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#i love it and the whole song gets even better. it's so good
tea-cat-arts · 3 days
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Ranking mxtx couples by whether or not I think they'd be good parents
(I'm 90% sure I'm forgetting someone)
Yep, next question (S)-
Wangxian: tried and tested good dads. I wish them luck with the whole “trying to get wwx pregnant” thing 
They have some shit to work through, but after that I think they'd be fine (A)-
Ling Wen/ Bai Jin: if we're just going off the original publication, I would put them in a much lower tier, but since the revised edition added that thing about them raising orphans together and said orphans turning out alright before unfortunate circumstances, I'm putting them up here. I think they'll be alright once they work through the miscommunication
Xiao Xingchen/ Song Lan: They obviously have a lot of trauma they're working through, but I'd like to think they and A-Qing will be a loving family in the long run 
One of them would be a good parent, the other wouldn't be a bad parent (B)-
Jiang Yanli/ Jin Zixuan: there's no canon reason for me putting them this low. Jin Zixuan just gives off a mediocre parent vibe to me (and we all know Jiang Yanli is the best)
Yushipei: Yushi Huang has good mom energy, and Pei Ming has been shown to be a not terrible mentor. I'd want the misogyny fully beaten out of him with a mace before I'd think he should have kids of his own though 
Lang Qianqiu/ Little Guy: at the very least, they're making sure Guzi is fed, clothed, washed, vaccinated, and has access to education. Neither of them know what they're doing, but I think Little Guy is good at faking it. I wish them luck in their upcoming custody battle  
You know what, surprise me/ I'll hear you out (C)-
Bingqiu: My first instinct is “no, do not bring kids into this,” but then I remembered tharnShen Qingqiu has a surprisingly decent track record? Like, Ning Yingying and Ming Fan both turned out a lot more health than they did in the original novel, and though I wouldn't call him in a good place, Binghe is doing a lot better than Bingge. The wild card for me here is Luo Binghe because I have no idea how he'd be with kids
Quanyin: Yin Yu had a decent track record until he was pushed into snapping. I think rn, he needs a couple centuries of being a babygirl before he's ready to parent again. No idea how Quan Yizhen would do though 
Born to “dual income, no kids, rich uncles/aunts” (D)-
Fengqing: Feng Xin is canonically a bad dad. I know he's working on it, but it is what it is. Mu Qing has been shown to be decent with kids, but I think he’d have a melt down if he had to deal with the mess constantly. 
Hualian: I mean, Xie Lian has raised three kids at this point and one of them became a god, another became state preceptor and then sorta complicit in a genocide, and one became god AND committed genocide + he babysat a ghost king for months and didn't even realize that's what he was because it was a miracle if he remembered to feed him… so, a mixed bag. Hua Cheng may be schrodinger’s child hater, but I'm intrigued by the idea of him raising kids just because I want to know how his own childhood would influence his parenting abilities. They should probably just stick to babysitting for now though 
Mingling: Liu Mingyan is too busy writing gay porn to be dealing with kids, and I just can't imagine Sha Hualing as a mom
Please don't bring a kid into this mess (F)-
Beefleaf: Do I need to explain this one?
Mobeishang: Shang Qinghua should not be put in any position where he has to teach someone about consent (Binghe’s early attempts at flirting being a prime example of why that's a bad idea). I also think Mobei Jun is still working on the whole “why hitting people is not cool” thing. 
QiJiu: I think the original timeline is a prime example of how they're just not in a place to be raising kids 
Jun Wu/ Mei Nianqing: Xie Lian would like a refund on his adopted father figures. They had one kid and he only made it to age 20 because he was cursed to not die
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taesanrot · 3 days
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[moved on] fwb!taesan x f!reader | 0.7k words shorter drabble inspired by the song moved on by laundry day!
my heart is saying things my mind just cannot speak ... i don't know what is wrong with me
taesan was an avoidant. he was good at ignoring things, pushing away the elephant in the room and pretending he doesn't care, that it couldn't bother him any less. he was good at ignoring the way your glances at him grew longer and fonder. he was even better at ignoring the way your doe eyes and soft hair made his heart race and stomach turn.
i'm clinging onto you just like i cannot breathe ... i don't know what is wrong with me
he knew it hurt you and he hated himself for it. you two had agreed to keep things between the two of you casual, seeking comfort in each others' touch in the late hours of the weekend and barely speaking the days in between. at the time it started, taesan's fleeting presence filled you up, bringing you out of the emotional trenches school had sent you into.
maybе I'm the problem saying this is alright ... am i coming on too strong?
that was your first mistake -- you should've known you were setting yourself up for failure right then and there. letting the raven haired boy light up your day with a simple stroke of his hand against your cheek; your heart never stood a chance against the curse of time.
please make sure you call, just to say it's alright ... am i waking you all night?
as the days passed, it was taesan who became the reason you ached on late nights. staring at your still unread message, you wondered why things were like this. the boy's actions twisted your mind in ways he'd never know. at times like this your mind flashed back to the way he was after the sun had set, when it was just the two of you in your own world.
we get together but things might just be better if we moved on
the way his warm lips felt against your neck, the way his fingers burned into your skin, it was all imprinted on your mind. the moments you two shared felt so intimate, and they replayed in your mind over and over like a broken record.
turning around under your heavy blanket for the tenth time that night, you screwed your eyes shut as more and more memories invaded your mind and dreams.
the two of you had been watching a movie, your head laying on his chest and his hand rubbing your shoulder softly. eyes trained on your laptop, you almost missed taesan’s face in your peripheral vision, peeking over at you. he had a habit of doing this — you always assumed he was simply checking if you were awake. you always stayed silent, just smiling and blinking delicately at him.
“i’m awake, san” you don’t know what made you blurt out defensively, but taesan shook his head softly at your words.
“i know, i was just looking at you.” your stomach still turns at the thought of the smile he was adorning as those words fell from his pretty lips.
his fond smile only looked wicked to you now, his words singing your skin and burning your resolve. how could he say all of that without feeling a single thing? you thought to yourself bitterly.
am i giving you up? ... changing seasons, can't believe it now i'm leaving you
sometimes taesan too thought he was insane. it stung to think about the sweet things he'd said or done to you -- it scared him how he meant it all completely. the boy didn't know what was wrong with him, why he couldn't just let the two of you be happy and togehter. he felt like a speed bump in the road, stubbornly and selfishly guarding his heart at the expense of your fragile mind.
hindsight is 20/20, and sitting alone in his cold and you-less bed, taesan knows what he should've done and said to you, what was staring him in the face this whole time. he was utterly in love with you and he didn't even realize.
bitterly, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and reads over your last text to him again.
[2:47 a.m]
y/n: i can't keep doing this anymore. i'm sorry, let's stop seeing each other.
you have been blocked by this number!
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francesderwent · 2 days
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I’ve been on a real Fearless kick lately and it always makes me feel some kinda way about Olivia Rodrigo’s body of work. and not even primarily about her and her talent and her songwriting, just about how different an experience it seems to be growing up as a young millennial woman versus growing up as a young gen z woman. take the total absence of any jealousy/self-image song on Taylor’s debut album or Fearless—because social media wasn’t this omnipresent perfect image factory and so the insecurity of growing up looked more like “Place In This World” or “The Outside”, fundamental experiences of questioning and longing that are deeply connected to our humanity, as opposed to “jealousy jealousy”, “pretty isn’t pretty”, or “lacy” which are founded on an obsession spiral that is literally only possible on that level because of the invention of the smartphone.
look at “Tell Me Why” or “Other Side of the Door” as opposed to “vampire” or “logical”—Taylor’s approach was a very straightforward “you acted this way and this is how it made me feel." it wasn’t until later that she started to make statements about patterns of behavior, because she simply couldn’t see them except in hindsight! she couldn’t say “this is what kind of man you are” or “this is what sort of relationship we had” until she had fully processed what happened—which is when we get songs like “Fifteen” and “Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve” and “The Manuscript”. but because the younger generation breathes the air of pop psychology buzzwords, Olivia is diagnosing her exes and labeling her relationships right away. and you might say this is a good thing, that young women are armed with terms like “gaslighting” and taught to be suspicious of age gaps because of the power differential. but having the knowledge doesn’t seem to have protected Olivia at all. she still makes all the same mistakes, there’s literally a whole song all about knowing something is a bad idea and doing it anyway. she still dates the older guy, but then she has so many labels readymade to explain why it didn’t feel good that she doesn’t ever actually get down to saying how it felt—because I don’t think she knows. the younger generation acts like processing an experience means figuring out what tiktokified sound bite applies to it and then slapping the label on and moving forward. “my parents were emotionally abusive” “my ex was a narcissist” “my ex best friend gaslit me” etc. but it seems to me that’s skipping some necessary stages of actually processing your shit. “vampire” is Olivia trying to write “Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve” before she’s ever written (or felt) “Tell Me Why”. it’s the difference between “here’s to you and your temper, yes I remember what you said last night / and I know that you see what you’re doing to me, tell me why” on the one hand and “went for me and not her ‘cause girls your age know better” or “master manipulator, you’re so good at what you do” or “you convinced me it was all in my mind” on the other hand.
and another side effect of this, the big names in this younger generation of artists aren’t really writing love songs, and I don’t think that’s accidental. they literally do not have the vocabulary to do so. the psychology buzzwords that go around are all about toxic relationships and red flags. and so, deprived of a way of thinking about being in love, the love songs either fall flat (“I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American”) or they simply don’t exist. the open-hearted sincerity of a “Hey Stephen” or “Jump Then Fall” is nowhere to be found.
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fqreverwinter · 18 hours
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“guilty as sin?”
— — — —
relationship: loki x fem!reader
summary: you were caged in a loveless marriage with thor. ever since you were little, you were in love with his brother. it was never meant to be, leaving you to dream about being with him instead.
word count: 2.9k
warnings: mentions of cheating
notes: this is (obviously) inspired by “guilty as sin?” by taylor swift!! i hate that this plot line always puts thor in this situation, but it’s too good not to write it :) also the “poem” mentioned at the end is actually lyrics from “the downtown lights” by the blue nile that is referenced in taylor’s song!!
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Before you took your first breath, you were already considered royalty, born to the closest Lord and Lady of the Throne of Asgard. Before you took your first step, you were promised to one of the sons of the Throne. It seemed like you had little say in your own life; never once did you get to pick out your own clothes, do your own makeup, make your own meals. You yearned for a sense of control in your life as soon as you understood what control was. Being locked in the cage of regality was the bane of your existence, but there was no getting around it.
To be fair, you loved your parents. Though they gave you little room to breathe, they always made sure you were happy and taken care of. They supplied you with plenty of books, plenty of journals, and other things to keep your dreary days in the palace occupied. You loved the king and queen, as well. Odin and Frigga viewed you as one of their own.
And as for the two princes— Well, they were your closest friends in the whole world. You grew up together, experiencing your firsts side-by-side. You couldn’t have dreamed of better partners in life than Thor and Loki. Your personality was a bit of both of them—the fiery spirit of Thor and the intellect of Loki. No matter who you were with, you always had a good time.
When the three of you became teenagers, feelings started to get in the mix. Your parents had warned you that you would eventually marry one of the brothers. In your mind, that meant you could choose, and you had no doubt who you would pick.
Thor was sweet to you. He always made sure that you had a good time, that you were treated as a gentle and precious woman. That’s not to say he wouldn’t want to battle or get muddy with you, but he would always make sure you had a glass of water and a fresh pair of clothes afterwards. You appreciated his kind gestures, and you noticed his conventionally attractive features.
But it wasn’t him you wanted.
Loki had stolen your heart since you first learned what love was. He was much quieter compared to his brother, but when he did speak, his words were so eloquent and thoughtful that you had no choice but to swoon. You would listen to him talk about his favorite books, his favorite spells—hell, even his favorite rocks if it meant watching his blue eyes glow and his slender fingers gesture as he spoke. He was your confidant, the one you told all your secrets to because you knew he would never betray you. His title meant nothing to you; you never saw him as the mischievous, devilish boy that everyone else saw. You saw his charm, his intelligence, his kindness, his imagination, his drive.
When you were both just teenagers, you were sat in one of the many courtyards of the palace. Loki was rambling about something his father said that ticked him off, but you were just watching him speak. Soon, you saw how frustrated he was. His shoulders slumped as he sighed, staring down at his feet. Your heart broke for him. In a moment of bravery, wanting to offer him comfort, you gently took his hand and leaned your head on his shoulder. He looked at you with surprise, but leaned back into you. Your heart was beating so fast when you eventually looked up at him. His big blue eyes stared back into yours, and he quickly closed the gap between your two lips.
That moment, you knew you were in love.
Then, two days later, your parents broke the news that you would begin a courtship with Thor.
See, when they said that you would marry one of the princes, they failed to tell you that it was the first-born prince. You never had a choice; there was never a chance of you marrying Loki. It shattered your heart.
After they told you, you ran to your room and slammed the door, locking it behind you. You flopped on your bed and screamed into your pillow. It was so unfair that you never got to make any choices in your own life. For once, you found an escape from the thick iron bars that your parents locked you in all your life. But as it turns out, you were never free from that enclosure.
Thor began your courtship with a giant bouquet of flowers and a pair of diamond earrings. Both gifts were thoughtful, but they did nothing to pull your heart away from Loki.
For the remainder of your teenage years, Thor did everything to impress you, to show how much he loved you. He would hold your hand on late night walks along the river. He would bring you new books that he thought you would enjoy. He would keep you close to him at formal affairs, introducing you as his beautiful future wife. The phrase made you cringe internally. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t love Thor. Sure, you had love for him—but you loved him as a brother, as the best friend that you grew up with. You never felt any romantic love for him.
In secret, you yearned for Loki. You thought about him at times when you should only have been thinking about Thor. At dinner, you sat next to your betrothed, but you snuck glances at his brother whenever you could. In the moments you were alone, you went out of your way to attempt to bump into him and strike up a conversation. You pictured him as the love interest in your novels.
But it seemed like Loki didn’t want anything to do with you.
Ever since you began your courtship with Thor, Loki became distant. Your long talks in the courtyards or late night chats in the library became fewer and far apart until they completely stopped. He didn’t smile at you in passing, send you a wave across the room, or send you small notes under your bedroom door. You didn’t understand it; you thought it was obvious you didn’t want to be with Thor. Why wouldn’t Loki take the hint?
But you were wrong.
Loki couldn’t stand to look at you anymore because he was also hopelessly in love with you. He, too, had been in love with you since you were little kids. Loki thought—no, knew—you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He wanted to be the one that you spent the rest of your life with, not his stupid brother. Every time he saw you, it broke his heart all over again.
Sure, he flirted with maidens and even brought a few back to his room. But he had the same thoughts as you—he saw your face in all of theirs; he dreamed that it was you when he was kissing them. They were nothing to him, just things to fill the ever-growing void in his heart.
He wanted to love you. He wanted to be the man that you deserved. He didn’t want to buy you flowers or gifts; he wanted to love and cherish you. He wanted to listen to your worries, celebrate you in your moments of joy, and talk to you in the way that only the two of you understood. Loki knew he was better for you than his brother could ever dream to be.
But Loki couldn’t tell you any of this. It would be breaking his brother’s trust. He did think about it, because what did the God of Mischief care about trust? But part of him knew that it would be breaking your trust as well, and that was something he could never bring himself to do.
On your wedding day, you felt nothing. Not even sadness or anger - just nothing. During the ceremony, you kept sneaking glances at Loki, but he never once looked up at you. Tears were welling up in your eyes, but you never let them slip.
During the reception, you managed to sneak away while Thor was busy chugging beers with his best friends. You went to one of the balconies in the main wing of the palace and leaned over the railing, staring out at the beautiful spring landscape of Asgard.
“I did not expect to see you out here, Princess,” a deep voice that you knew all too well muttered.
You sighed, “I needed some air. It was getting quite hot in the banquet hall.”
Loki stood beside you, grabbing on to the railing in the same way you were. You looked over at him, admiring how beautiful his face was up close. You were so attracted to him, his fair skin and bright blue eyes and sharp cheekbones. Your heart skipped a beat.
“I was always told that your wedding would be the happiest day of your life,” he said, finally looking at you. “But you don’t seem so thrilled.”
You shrugged. “The day is not quite how I pictured it.”
“How so?”
You looked back down at your hands.
“I just—I feel like I have never had a sense of control. All my life, I’ve been told what to wear, what to say, what to do, who to talk to… I have just been locked in this tight cage. I always thought that my love would be the one thing I could have control over. But as it turns out, I can’t even have that.”
“Do you not love my brother?”
You snapped your head back to Loki. He stared at you with a specific look, like he knew the answer to that question but was dying to hear you say it. You opened your mouth to answer, but you were cut off by a guard calling your name.
“Princess, Prince Thor has been looking for you. They are about to start the toasts.”
You nodded, adjusting your dress then walking towards him. You looked back to see Loki again, but he wasn’t looking back at you. Your heart broke again as you followed the guard back into the party.
The biggest change after your marriage was that everyone went from addressing you as Lady to Princess. Your feelings never changed; you still loved Loki and felt indifferent towards Thor.
Now, you shared a room with Thor. He would hold you in bed every night, trying to initiate some sort of moment for you two to share. Most nights, you said you were tired and brushed him off. On the nights you let him go further, you still just pictured Loki.
Your only solace was the fact that Thor started going on warrior missions to other realms. He would travel for days, sometimes weeks at a time to either serve as a diplomatic figure or a traveling soldier for different places throughout the cosmos. Those times were the only times you finally felt like yourself again. You got to sleep in your own bed, come and go as you please, and best of all, you didn’t have to worry about being physical with Thor.
Eventually, you cracked the wall that was put up between you and Loki. When Thor was gone, you spent nearly every day with him. It was almost like nothing had happened, no years were lost. You laughed and joked and told stories just like you did when you were kids. It did nothing but deepen your love for Loki, but at least you found some kind of relief for your longing.
Because in your twisted mind, these thoughts meant nothing; if you never took any action, never touched or felt Loki, you were not guilty of any betrayal.
One rainy night, the two of you were locked in the palace’s library, going through countless books of poetry from the different realms. You read them dramatically to each other, making the other laugh and laugh. When you reached a Midgardian book, you found a poem that especially struck a cord.
“Sometimes I walk away,” Loki began, propping one leg up on a couch while projecting his voice for the entire library to hear. You giggled as he continued.
“When all I really wanna do, is love and hold you tight. There is just one thing I can say, nobody…” he began trailing off, losing the excitement in his act.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, your smile running away from your face.
“Um…” he said quietly, not moving his gaze from the book in his hands. This was so unlike Loki; it was rare that he was at a loss for words.
“Sorry, it just caught me off guard,” he finally said, clearing his throat. He looked at you, his big blue eyes blown as he finished the line that he was stuck on.
“Nobody loves you this way.”
You stared at him, your heart skipping a beat when you realized why he stopped at that line. It resonated with your situation, the longing and dreaming that had gone on for years and years. You stood up, moving closer to Loki as his eyes never once left your face. You placed a hand gently on his chest as one of his wrapped around your waist. The two of you leaned in, ever-so close to the moment that you shared when you were merely teenagers.
“Princess!” one of your maidens called, sprinting towards you. You quickly stepped back from Loki as he did from you. The two of you acted like nothing ever happened as she approached you.
“Princess, it is well after midnight. You must head to your bedroom. You have breakfast with the Allmother tomorrow, remember?”
You nodded. “Yes, very well. Goodnight, Prince Loki.”
“Goodnight, Princess,” he replied, nodding his head at you.
You followed her towards the exit. You turned around once to see Loki, expecting him to ignore you like he usually did. But this time, he flashed you a smile and winked. Heat rose to your cheeks as you quickly spun back around, fighting the smile that was taking over your lips.
Once you got back to your bedroom, you closed the door quickly behind you, reminiscing on the moment you two almost shared. You giggled like you were a teenager again, spinning around before crashing into your bed. That night, you dreamt of a marriage with Loki, but this time happily instead of bittersweet.
But the next day, your husband returned, and this time bearing news that he would be back for a while. He embraced you excitedly, happy to be home with you. But you couldn’t feel worse. Thor being around meant Loki would go back to pretending like you didn’t exist.
The more time Thor spent around you, the more you wished to finish the moment you had with Loki. Those few seconds ate away at you like nothing you experienced before. You thought about it when you woke up, when you went to sleep, when you were alone in bed, imagining what it would have been like to finally have your lips against his again. You begged to be set free.
Some days, you really did consider throwing caution to the wind and knocking on Loki’s door. But every time you got close, nerves would take over and you quickly kept walking past. When you saw him in the hallways, you had the same temptations, but again he ignored your presence.
It only got worse with pressure from everyone around you to have a child with Thor. Your mother, your father, Queen Frigga, and even your husband pressed you about when you were finally going to start a family. The first anniversary of your marriage was nearing, and everyone said that it was time for you to produce the next line of royalty.
As a result, Thor tried to be physical more often. It became harder and harder for you to brush him off. Afterwards, he would roll over and fall asleep while you laid in bed restless.
One of those sleepless nights, you heard something rustle near your door. Curious, you gently stood up and walked over, finding a piece of paper that had been slid under your door. You checked to make sure Thor was still asleep then crept to your en-suite, softly closing the door and turning on the light. You read over the note, gasping when you realized what it was.
Through all these dreadful years, you were holding back the urge to cry. You felt like you were not allowed to cry. After all, you put yourself in this situation. You were the one that was not willing to let go of Loki. You were the one that dreamt of cheating on your husband with his brother. You were the bad person in every light of this situation. There was no reason for you to feel self-pity and let those tears fall.
But tonight, you finally let it happen. For that note was no regular note. No, rather it was a piece of paper torn from a book, annotated and signed by Loki, the Prince of Asgard, the God of Mischief and Lies, your true love.
And the note read the poem that you two had shared those few weeks ago. The poem that reignited your flame, that sealed your fate in the loveless cage forever.
Sometimes I walk away,
When all I really wanna do
Is love and hold you right.
There is just one thing I can say,
Nobody loves you this way.
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gunstellations · 4 months
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In the world I love
_
In a different world
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cainite-bite · 1 year
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Rule of Rose is an incredibly underrated game
but lord have mercy its OST is one of the most underrated ones out there despite being so honestly gorgeous??
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solarisposting · 5 months
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screaming myself hoarse til I pass out we were together during a very tumultuous time in our lives I will always have your back and be curious about you about your career your whereabouts!!!
#not about j we're good - about the friend who i haven't shut up about in the 14 years i've been on the hellsite#the fun part is that i know his forever career and his forever whereabouts and it will break my heart into shards for the rest of my life!#and goddamnit we weren't romantically together but instead together as part of a weirdly codependent friend group of four and we were#near identically weird and fucked up emotionally and in our humor and how we spoke and how we meshed and i will NEVER fucking get over it!!#i'm still agog that i sent you a last chance hail mary sort of letter like the lyrics in this song about how i think about you often and#have always believed in you and been rooting for you like all the rest of us who knew you before things got really bad because you were and#are such a fucking incredible person and musician and friend and so smart and creative and LOVABLE! i said that in the letter without#realizing alanis said that in one of THE best lost love songs of all goddamn time!#i wish i could tell you one more time - right now today immediately or better yet five years ago - how i have always loved and admired you#and everything about you. even now. all the way out here in iowa i am still loving you with everything i have in me every single day#knowing i will never speak to or see you again [i think about you all the time but i don't need the same] and i finally started to admit#that to myself and my friends and my therapist in 2021 and i'm more at peace with it than i ever was or thought i could be in 2019 and 2020#but i know it's gonna take my whole lifetime to get a grip on it and accept it. and it'll stop hurting one of these days. i know it will#i don't think i've ever loved a friend as much as I loved you. i think you were the best friend i've ever had#and that's one of the nastiest parts of it - we were good friends and you did seem to like me plenty#but i think i was the w-h-auden_morelovingone.txt by a mile. i was a weird obsessed stage 10 clinger.#and that's surely a large part of the dwelling and the fixation. if things had been more equal then maybe it'd be very different now.#guess i'll die because i sure ain't finding out!!#HELLO LOVES HAVE SOME RICH NUTRITIOUS ANNIE LORE ON THIS FINE FREEZING COLD SUNDAY AFTERNOON!#ann with an ie#<- this was a nightmare to type out and feel but i wanna keep it around for whenever i get the balls to talk about it in therapy again
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seventh-district · 9 months
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in other news i cannot stop fucking listening to Brokenheartsville by Joe Nichols and i’m starting to annoy myself with it but. i cannot stop. it’s too good
#Seven.txt#music stuff#it’s this perfect mix of being applicable to my current taste while also being a very nostalgic song for me#‘cause i liked it when i was a kid. and i recently heard it on my father’s radio outside. and man it’s been y e a r s since i’ve heard it#why is it so addictive to me#like. you cannot make a song that opens with the lyrics-#‘He wore that cowboy hat to cover up his horns. *insert seductive guitar sounds here* Sweet-talkin’ forked tongue had a temptin’ charm.’#and expect my southern and devil-loving ass to not go fucking feral over it#even when i’m not listening to it it’s playing in my head. was analyzing the lyrics the whole time i was in the shower earlier#but what’s funny is i think i’ve listened to it so many times that i’ve developed a whole new story than the one actually being told#but like. with how much he’s supposedly upset that this guy stole his girl or whatever#which i know he’s probably just comparing some dude to the devil and not actually saying that it was the Devil Himself#but it’s so much better if u picture it as actually being the devil that’s picking up this dude’s girlfriend in a bar#but anyways given how that’s supposed to be the point. he spends so much time describing the devil and ain’t got shit to say abt his girl#like okay buddy. we know you liked his cowboy hat. we know you liked his sweet-talkin’ tongue.#we’ve heard all about the make and model of his Long and Chrome Very Red Hot Sexy Devil Car#do u not have anything to say abt ur girlfriend. are u not gonna wax poetic abt her? no? too busy admiring the Devil and his Hot Car?? yeah#we’re gathering that#like.. brother… i dunno how to tell u this but i think u might wanna fuck him a lil bit#‘Love’s gone to hell and so have I.’ yeah!! i’m gathering that!! good for u dude!! get it!!#so now the whole time i’m listening to it i’m just like. this is a love song abt the devil!#which it isn’t. but it could be!! and so that’s what i’m choosing to see it as. bc i’d feel the same way tbh#i much prefer the idea of him being pissed that he missed his chance to run away w/ the devil than being pissy over his girlfriend leaving#it’s just so much more appealing to me im sorry#also. side note. when i was a kid i thought the line was ‘that angel up in the air’ and not ‘that angel who did me in’#and i don’t know how i misheard it so badly but now i sing it wrong every fuckign time cause it’s still cemented in my head from childhood#how young was i. hold on.#oh yeah it came out in 2002. so yeah i was quite young when i heard it a lot so i think im forgiven for mishearing it so badly lmao
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magentagalaxies · 14 hours
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going to a comedy open mic tomorrow mostly to watch my friends (it's at a cool venue that my improv troupe performs at once a month and a few improv troupe friends are doing standup there) but when these friends were asking if i'd be interested in coming they were like "btw there's usually a ton of open spots on show days if YOU want to do something... and they're not strict about it only being standup either, people have done character pieces and sketches etc like they embrace the weirdness... and they're not strict about time limits you could probably do anything between three and eight minutes... sometimes if there's not enough people signed up they'll even let you go twice..." and i'm like god damn it i thought i was gonna take a break from aubrey but this setup is like tailor made for an aubrey appearance lmao
#still on the fence about it bc the burnout i experienced at the beginning of may extended to aubrey#especially bc so much of my aubrey stuff is comedy about gender and my brain was more in ''set everything on fire'' mode#and i think i've gotten to a good place with that burnout but i still haven't worked on any aubrey stuff since i got home from college#but even still even tho my mental health is better than it was a few weeks ago#recently i have had this horrible insomnia where i haven't been able to fall asleep at night in over a week#(i've made up for it with naps but still i am not mentally 100% rn. i've tried so many things and nothing has worked.)#so that's my justification for *not* doing aubrey tomorrow. however.#i reeeally need to get more performance experience bc there's only so much you can develop a sketch character without performing them#and this venue is so good. it's an art gallery like an hour away that's designed to be part gallery and part performance venue#especially for comedy. like the venue owner is this veteran comedian who used to work with bobcat goldthwait and a lot of other big names#and it's a low-pressure environment bc everyone there has seen me do comedy before with my improv troupe#but they still haven't seen me do aubrey at all so it's bringing a new side of my comedy to some of my main collaborators#like this is so much better than my previous aubrey performances bc they were all either#1. shows in CLASSROOMS with a bunch of my classmates who generally don't get my comedy (very clique-ish)#or 2. a guest spot on a show at a coffee shop where everyone knew each other except me#plus the biggest thing for me is the lack of a strict time limit. like as much as having a good 3-minute monologue can be#i think aubrey is a character you need to get to know a bit longer than 3 minutes. and a lot of my stuff is long while also being very tigh#like not every monologue is like this but my best aubrey monologues are almost like aubrey is telling you a sitcom storyline#and removing too many lines makes the whole narrative jenga tower fall over#and as much as i want to figure out how to make every monologue a good starting point#having the chance to perform multiple monologues if i get to go twice so that they can build off each other would be perfect#idk i'm not sure how often the open mics are there. at least monthly tho i might be missing next month's depending on when i'm in toronto#so like this wouldn't really be my only chance. but yeah i'm on the fence about whether to bring aubrey back for a performance tomorrow#i probably wouldn't do new material. i'd do the 5 minute version of my uncle reg monologue bc it's the one that's worked best so far#and if i get to do multiple. maybe i'd do the ''nom de plum'' monologue bc i think it's also very strong#and it has a good callback to uncle reg#but idk i also think doing the song would be very fun and on-theme since it's pride month and the song is a satire of rainbow capitalism#tho i'd probably have to rework the monologue that leads into the song bc even tho i loved the concept i don't think i articulated it well#or i could write an entirely different lead-in and make the previous monologue (''C/H/M'') a separate thing to revise later#which would probably go better and somehow be less work to write. but even so i don't know what the venue's sound setup is
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
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twinkle twinkle little star
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words: 700
warnings: 18+ only, smut, dom/sub undertones, fluffy <3, reader is called kid and stupid, clit rubbing
“rafeyyy.” you whine, squirming underneath the thin blanket covering the two of your bodies.
“baby.” rafe grunts out, his voice deep with what he wishes was sleep. “go to bed.”
“i can't! im trying really!” you complain. 
rafe sighs, tugging you closer, back into his grip that you wiggled away from trying to find a comfortable position.
“just close your eyes, kid.” 
you try. you really do. you shut your eyes, pray for your body to relax, but to no avail as you squirm again, causing rafe to sigh.
“alright. hold on.” he moves, sitting himself up against the headboards, arms open as you crawl into his lap, letting him cradle you in his big arms.
“this better you big baby?” he coos, rocking you softly from side to side, letting out a small groan as your bum moves against his lap.
“mhm.” you nod, resting your head against rafes chest. you close your eyes, sleep is so close, but yet when rafe tries to move you back so he can lay down, your eyes blink open.
“fuck, you're still not asleep?” rafe groans.
“im sorry!” you whine. “im trying, really. just can’t.”
“alright, shit.” rafe moves your body for you, laying your head into the crook between his chest and shoulder, arm caging your body close.
his free hand moves to your chest, massaging your tits through your silk nightgown.
you let out a low moan, eyes fluttering closed as rafe switches back and forth between your breasts, rubbing and massaging them gently enough to allow it to be relaxing instead of just turning you on.
“stupid baby, didn't even realize she couldn't sleep just because she was horny.” rafe coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead. your eyelashes flutter open, looking up at rafe.
“it's okay, kiddo.” he says. “im gonna take care of you.”
his hand moves lower to dive between your thighs, smirking to himself when he feels your flimsy underwear. he has a habit of ripping them off whenever he wants access to you, so you've given up on buying high quality material just for it to be destroyed.
“gonna rub your little cunnie for you, mkay?” rafe makes sure you nod.
his finger strokes over your underwear, right through your center. you try not to squirm around, opening your legs up slightly to give rafe more access. he presses a kiss to your head when you spread your thighs, muttering out a quiet affirmation.
“thats my good girl.”
“i-”
“shh.” rafe pets his finger over your clit before dipping lower, feeling how the wet spot has formed on your underwear.
rafe pushes your underwear to the side, unable to restrict himself any longer from feeling your bare skin. he lets out a hum of approval as he moves his fingertip through your slick.
he continues to hum, soft familiar melodies. rafe is no singer, but if he was he'd be cooing you gentle lullabies as he continues to gently rock you, two fingers now gliding through your folds.
“ohhh, thats it.” rafe hums as your eyes close, unable to keep them open any longer. you're sure to be out as soon as his fingers bring you to orgasm.
he moves up to your clit, wanting to get you off quickly so he can get to sleep himself.
“big day tomorrow, bunny.” he presses more kisses to your forehead and hairline. “gonna take you shopping.”
if this was the first you'd heard of the news, you'd certainly be wide awake and excited, but rafe has been promising you a whole day just the two of you for a while now. shopping, dinner, walk on the beach, anything you decide.
“mmm love you.” you whisper as rafe rubs his two fingers over your clit, your thighs squeezing in closer to his hand as your high builds.
“love you too baby. cum for me then we can get some sleep, yeah?” rafe resumes his humming with twinkle twinkle little star.
you let out soft mewls and moans that are the perfect accompaniment to his song, rafe playing you like an instrument with his fingers on your clit.
you don't need to tell him that you're close, you're certain he knows from the rush of wetness, the way your clit pulses as he rubs faster until your entire body stiffens, then your back arches as you let out a moan.
rafe rubs you through your orgasm until you slump in his arms, high replaced by pure exhaustion, falling asleep before rafe even lays you back down.
“mmm, that's my girl.” rafe kisses your head once more as he readjusts you in bed, eyes sliding closed now that you're content and asleep in his arms.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra
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scoreplings · 1 year
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every time i listen to pink in the night by mitski i think about how my ex said that song was how he felt about me. about a month not even before he left me for our mutual friend (that i had specifically asked him not to pursue because it would hurt me a lot)
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il-miele-che-scrive · 25 days
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Lando Norris and [Y/n] Wolff are an on-and-off thing, fans think they're all good after [Y/n] releases a song supposedly about Lando, but they forget he's not the only Brit on the grid.
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username1 HE LAUGHS AT ALL MY JOKES
↳username2 AND HE SAYS I'M SO AMERICAN
username3 sorry but in which part is y/n american?
↳username1 her mother, Y/m/n Y/l/n, is American and Y/n spent most of her life in the US after Y/m/n and Toto divorced
username3 oooh good to know, thank you!!
username4 I'm so happy to know Y/n and Lando are still together after all
↳username5 But they were never official
username4 But it's obvious! They were seen on dates many times, hanging out around Monaco, not to mention every time Y/n is in the paddock she spends more time in the McLaren garage than Mercedes'
username6 my fav nepo baby <3
username7 damn Lando must be doing a good job lol
username8 Y/n finally released a love song, everybody thank Lando
username9 Weren't there rumours about them being over forever just during the winter break?
↳username10 Toto would find a way to get Lando kicked out of F1 if he ever broke Y/n's heart lmao
username9 What does Toto gotta do with McLaren?
username10 He's rich? Lol
username9 And? Stroll's daddy is rich as well yet he can't make idk Verstappen disappear lol rich doesn't mean he can do anything he wants
username11 Guys I have a bad feeling, we actually haven't seen them together in a long time , I'm afraid they might be actually broken up for good
↳username6 I wouldn't read too much into it, Y/n studies in Monaco so she isn't able to attend races right now
username11 You sure? Y/n hasn't made a single appearance since the season started
username6 The season started in the middle of her uni year lol you ever thought of that?
↳username7 this is literally a love song, how are we even wondering if they broke up? she wouldn't release this if they were done
username6 THIS!! I feel like this song is a confirmation from Y/n that all is good, maybe she was tired of people talking if they're broken up or not
username5 Then why don't they make it official?
username6 that's not a question i can answer
username12 "I'll go anywhere he goes" then why aren't you attending races miss girl? Education can wait
↳username2 lmao it literally can't wait
username13 "the books you read" ma'am, Lando looks like he hasn't touched a single book his whole life
↳username12 And it's not like he dresses that well either, his style is nothing special
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
y/n's texts with Lando
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· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
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username1 All men are the same I swear
↳username2 nooo I swear there are good ones, but that's just not Lando
username3 excuse me sir, y/n has just written a love song about you
username4 NOOOO THE WAY HE PUT HIS HAND ON THE GIRL'S LOWER BACK
↳username1 Him and Y/n are done frfr 😭
username5 Do we know who the girl is?
↳f1gossip Not yet, but I'm sure we'll know in no time
username6 Wtf is wrong with you, it's not her fault Lando can't focus on one woman
username7 But there's no way she didn't know about him and Y/n ;)
username6 There is/was no "Lando and Y/n", they never confirmed a relationship
username8 He's just won in Miami, I was hoping they'd make it official after that :(
↳username9 Sameeee it would be so cool
↳username10 Literally same, it'd be perfect
username11 Lando Norris, you disappoint me again
↳username12 at this point Y/n must be used to that lmao poor girl I hope she finds someone better
username13 WHAT DOES TOTO SAY ABOUT IT?
↳username3 Whats he supposed to say? Y/n is a grown woman, stop treating her like a baby
username14 I swear if we see Y/n back again with him after THIS I'm gonna break some dishes
↳username15 Yeah I hope she'll find some self respect and finally leave his ass
username16 Y/n I beg you to leave him, the d can't be THAT fire
yn_wolff posted on instastory
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landonorris replied to your story:
↳mind if i join?
yn_wolff:
yeah lol don't join
landonorris:
i was gonna sail today anyway, what if we do it together?
hey i think i see u thru my window who are u with?
yn_wolff:
with dad and susie
stalker ass creep don't get anywhere near me today
landonorris:
I see another man
who is he?
*seen*
y/n answer me who is he
is that russell?
fucking russell wtf is he doing there
he better keep his hands away from you
what the fuck why are u hugging him
yn_wolff:
i'm hugging george and I'll do something worse if you don't stop with ur stalker shit
landonorris:
what the fuck do you mean y/n
yn_wolff:
don't worry, I'm sure that blonde girl would love to give you a hug, you should go see her
landonorris:
she's just a friend
y/n you're mine
she doesn't mean shit to me
don't show my texts to russell
yn_wolff:
Hello it's George, stop texting my girlfriend or we'll have to tell Toto
landonorris:
girlfriend?
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username1 Right after? The Lando thing was yesterday
↳f1gossip Yeah, and this was this morning
username2 Whats Y/n doin with George? 🤨
↳username3 in case you forgot she's y/n WOLFF, the daughter of Mercedes' boss which GR drives for
username4 After seeing Y/n's story I hoped she's finally spending some time with Lando but...
↳username5 Have u seen what Lando posted? 😂
username4 What did he post?
username5 Oh apparently he deleted it already lol it was a story
username5 Anyway he posted like a lowkey thirst trap pic and the music he added was Tumblr girls by g eazy lmao
username4 Boohoo consequences of his own actions catching up
username5 Yeahh and he especially chose the verse that goes like "fucking off and on, always stop and go, probably got someone, choose not to know"
username6 Guys, I say we take in consideration the possibility of 'so american' being about George
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landonorris Monaco weekend 🇲🇨☀
view all comments
username1 Why do I feel like he posted this just so people think Y/n was there with him even though there's not a single pic of her? 😂
↳username2 Bro why he want her when he can't have her anymore?
username3 get over it, it's your fault
username4 I feel like he's tryna say "Hey guys look, Y/n took these pics" but why would we believe it 💀
↳username1 Exactly!! We all KNOW she most likely spent the day with George
username5 Now all i think about when i see Lando is the story he deleted 😭
↳username6 totally hahah he literally called Y/n a bitch but also admitted that he can't help wanting other girls
username7 Wait when did this happen? When did he say that?
username6 he never said that, it's lyrics of a song he posted but quickly deleted
username5 He immediately regretted hahah
username8 @/maxfewtrell Tell Lando to behave, why are you even helping him with this bullshit?
username9 It's too late, you had your chance FOR HALF A YEAR and still chose to lead Y/n on, now she got someone else and you're being petty
↳username10 She let him lead her on for half a year? Damn it he should pay for her therapy
username9 I feel like she really hoped she can change him but realized "if you can't change the man, change the man"
username10 Very accurate lmao
username11 Guys, I believe Y/n and Lando were a thing for much more time than half a year, it was going on for at least a year, they were just very secretive about it
username9 Well, good for her to finally get out of this shit, she deserves so much better and I hope George will give her that
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username1 I bet Toto loves his new son in law
↳username2 He has to be very relieved to know Y/n chose George eventually
username3 We still don't know if they're dating, remember George drives for Mercedes
username4 I really hope Lando is crying rn
username5 Now Lando for sure can't trick us into thinking Y/n was with him lmao
username6 I love George for saving Y/n
username7 I love them, they're all so old money, Y/n and George are a great match
username8 MY DELULU IS BECOMING TRULULU
username9 This is our confirmation that so american is about George
username10 I feel like Y/n upgraded at some point but at one point also downgraded
↳username2 Let's not talk about it, we should be happy for her and George, at least he won't treat her like an option
username11 George is literally THE MAN for Y/n, I'm so glad she finally realized that
↳username12 Chill, let's not assume stuff before we have any statement from them, we all know where assuming can get us
username13 This is my old money dream
username14 HEAR ME OUT but I'd actually love to see George and Y/n get married one day
↳username12 THIS is exactly where assuming can get us
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yn_wolff Oh you'll like him, he's really kind andhe's funny like you sometimes, and I found someone I really like maybe for the first time
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username1 I'm so happy for them I'm gonna cry
lewishamilton Invite me next time!
↳georgerussell63 Toto said it was family only, I'm sorry, Lewis!
↳yn_wolff Ask Ferrari to invite you wtf
username1 lmao only Y/n Wolff can talk to a 7 times world champion like that
username2 YESSSS IT'S OFFICIAL
↳username1 Y/n is officially free from Lando!!
username3 I love the vibes, I love the fact that Y/n is dating a driver from her dad's team, I love the fact that Toto accepts it
↳username4 He must've been going CRAZY when Y/n had the situationship with Lando
username3 Absolutely and I think we all know about Toto's anger issues lol
susie_wolff 💝
↳yn_wolff 🩷
ymn_yln I hope George knows he's welcome in America too 😊
↳yn_wolff Of course!! We have a plane on Friday❤️
↳georgerussell63 I wanted to take Y/n to Miami so we can visit after the GP, but she refused 😔
yn_wolff Shut up I have uni!!
georgerussell63 It can't be more important than me meeting your mum
lilymhe Beautiful couple 😚
↳yn_wolff @/susie_wolff it's about you and dad💕
lilymhe Might as well be 😂
username3 Susie and Toto literally are Y/n and George in like 20 years lmao
alex_albon Finally, no more secrets
↳username2 ALBONO KNEW?
username4 Phew I can't imagine how much stress it was for him 😂
username5 George just MIGHT be the guy which so american is about...
username6 Something about this relationship makes me feel so at peace and I don't even know them in person
charles_leclerc Someone check on Lando😂
↳yn_wolff Charles 💀
username5 Is he wrong tho
username7 I laughed harder than I should've
↳username8 Betting all my money he's regretting all his actions
username9 As he should tbh imagine leading sb on for about a year, people who do this are evil
username8 Yeah, that was so wrong of him
username10 No but I need to know what books George reads tho
landonorris 👍
↳yn_wolff Stalker ass you don't even follow me
↳username4 THE AUDACITY
landonorris I hope you'll have fun while it lasts
↳yn_wolff YOU'RE the one to speak about lasting
↳georgerussell63 Not your place to worry about it🙂
username5 THE EMOJI MAKES IT SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON
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username1 "THE WAY YOU DRESS, THE BOOKS YOU READ" he dresses well✅ he looks like he reads✅
username2 He's the perfect man for Y/n frfr
username3 I'm so happy that it's not about Lando after all, I was like girl he's treating you like shit and you write a love song??
username4 I've been waiting for it for YEARS
username5 So they had a thing for no longer than since the end of winter break and already made it official
↳username2 Something Lando couldn't do for almost a whole ass year lmao
username6 But have y'all noticed how obsessed with Y/n Lando is suddenly?
↳username1 of course he is, that's how it works, he's been rejected so his fragile ego is hurt
username3 He's even liking fans' edits of Y/n😭man is manifesting hard but I doubt anything can help him
username7 Good to know George's hands are warmer than hell, they don't look like it
username8 Girlie deserved a man who doesn't have commitment issues aka is a real man, I'm glad she got him
username9 Y'all think Lando reads Y/n x reader fanfics?👀
↳username1 Totally
↳username2 I can imagine it
↳username3 He'll do it until his delulu becomes trululu (it'll never happen🔥)
username10 I'll laugh so hard if now Lando will now stop fooling around with other girls 😂
username11 Can't wait for a whole album full of love songs about him
↳username12 I don't think we'll have to wait for long
1K notes · View notes
yanaromanov · 2 months
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in unholy denial
・ 。゚*. 18+, minors DNI . * 。゚・
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pairing: wanda maximoff x reader
summary: you’re the perfect all-american girl; a good student, a weekly churchgoer, you’re even dating the high school quarter back. so it’s all a big shock to you when your family decides to send you to a conversion camp, claiming they believe you’re a lesbian. you don’t agree with their accusation, telling everyone that you don’t like girls at all. but then you meet your camp mate wanda maximoff, who seems determined to sway your mind in another direction…
warning(s): conversion therapy, homophobia (externalised and internalised), religious mentions (christianity), smut, fingering, thigh riding, loss of virginity, hickeys, slight dubcon (only kissing), swearing, pet names (princess, honey), wanda and r are in high school but of age (over 18), cheating (r has a bf), slightly innocent reader, nude magazine, etc. minors dni
author’s note: this is my first time writing and uploading smut so i really hope it’s not terrible 🙏🏻this is heavily inspired by ‘but i’m a cheerleader’, only this time it’s with teenage wanda and much more smutty :) i also took light inspiration from @imaginedanvrs and her fic ‘atonement’, and though i did take a different turn, check it out because all of their writing is amazing :))
wc: 11.7K words
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The car is quite on the ride up. You stare out the window, watching as your world begins to disappear. The camp is just under two hours away from your home town; far away enough that it feels like a whole different world, but close enough that your parents can still come visit on the weekends.
You’re not being punished. At least that’s what your parents have told you. They just want what’s best for you, want to help you find the right journey in life. Apparently this camp was supposed to do that for you. Though, you could quite see how - the apparent problem they claim to be able to fix, not identifiable to any part of your mind.
When they’d first brought up the idea, you’d been quick to confusion. A conversion therapy camp? But you weren’t gay. You had a boyfriend, the football team’s best quarterback at that, and you two were very happy together. He was handsome and kind, and you loved him. Except for maybe when he tried to kiss you, always left feeling grossed out by the encounter as his tongue tried to play with yours. But he must just be a bad kisser. That was at least what you always told yourself…
Aside from that, there were so many things that couldn’t have possibly lead your parents to believe you were gay. You were one of the top students at school, always getting the highest grades. Every Sunday you attended church, said your nightly prayers each evening before you slept. You were in the church choir, for goodness sake!
Still, your parents had sat you down in the living room one night and had a very serious conversation with you. They were concerned mostly, worried that something sinister had crept in and was tainting your life. You’d used all of your excuses in protest but they’d came prepared with their own.
A few posters from your room, filled with woman in bikini tops. You liked the patterns. Songs from your playlist that held ulterior meaning. You just liked the way they sound. The fact you hated kissing your boyfriend; a few comments you’d made to your friends about other girls at church. You thought everyone felt that way…
In the end, they’d convinced you to come along to the program, claiming it was in your best interest to attend and get the help you need. Although you didn’t believe you needed any help at all, you had agreed. If this camp was going to help them feel better, you were willing to give it a go, even if it meant getting treatment for a nonexistent problem…
Still, your heart aches a little as your small family car drives away from the suburbs you are used to, the view soon replaced by dense forest trees and vibrant undergrowth. The program was set out almost like a Summer camp, out near a lake where members could swim during their free time. That was one of the activities you’d read in the pamphlet your parents had handed you, the camp explained in its entirety alongside its promise to guarantee positive results. You’d initially asked your parents how long you would have to spend there, worried about being forced to remain when there wasn’t a problem with you to begin with, but your mom had simply smiled back softly and replied, ‘let’s just see how you get on’.
You’re almost lost in thought when the car finally turns on to the last stretch of its journey. The sight ahead of you drags you back to the present moment, eyes now searching the wide opening in the trees as the camp comes into view. It’s easy to spot, the only buildings around for a long while, and the white shutters standing out vibrantly against the green trees. The lake comes into view too, shimmering in the morning summer sun.
Soon the car slows, coming to a halt outside what looks to be the main building, its size large compared to the other’s dotted around. The ranch-style house is painted a soft blue, the fixtures and wrap-around porch shining dazzling white. All in all, it looks rather beautiful.
Your parents are the first out the car, looking around as they close the doors. You follow a moment later, eyes drifting over your surroundings as you inhale the sweet smells of the forest air. A pair of footsteps soon diverts your attention, your gaze falling to a tall blonde man making his way in your direction from the large blue house. He’s dressed very similarly to the men you see at church; a pair of neat navy slacks and a matching blue and white gingham shirt. You and your parents come to stand together on one side of the car just as he reaches your feet.
“Good morning,” the blonde says, his grin reaching from ear to ear. “Mr and Mrs Y/L/N, isn’t it?” There’s an exchange of hand shakes as your parents confirm his assumption. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And you must be young Y/N.” His gaze falls to you as he speaks, a hand outstretching in your direction.
You take it, shaking it gently as you nod your head. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
The blonde lets out a low chuckle as he releases your hand, his attention turning back to your parents. “What a polite little girl you have,” he says, his smile widening. Your parents seem to take pride in his compliment, inching closer together as they stand and look over at you. “But please,” the man continues, turning back to you. “My name is reverend Steve so you can call me as such. Or just Steve if you prefer.” He smiles again as he shrugs his shoulders. “Sir always feels a bit too formal.”
There’s a trade of small laughter between the adults but you don’t find yourself joining in, still feeling a little apprehensive about this whole scenario.
“I do hope your journey here was alright.”
“Oh, just fine,” your father replies in response to reverend Steve’s question, smiling easily back at him.
“Good. I’m so glad to hear that. We’re just so happy to have Y/N here. And don’t worry, your daughter is in very good hands.”
Just at that moment, you notice another figure approaching your group, a woman, originating from the same place Steve had. When she reaches you, there’s a soft smile on her face, her red hair dazzling in the Summer sun. The reverend reaches one of his arms out, bringing the woman close to his side as his hand rests on her hip. “I’d like you to meet my wife, Natasha. She helps direct things around here, especially with the girls.”
Her hand also extends out to your parents to meet in a soft handshake as she smiles widely back at them. “Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” With your parents, reciprocating the sentiment, the redhead then turns her attention to you. Her eyes sparkle a bright shade of green as the morning sun hits them. “Hello, Y/N,”
You find yourself momentarily stumbling over your words, something about the woman distracting you until she speaks. “Good morning,” you manage eventually, smiling back nervously.
In the time you’ve greeted her, it seems your parents have retrieved your luggage from the back of the car. “These are your bags?” Reverend Steve asks, reaching to pick them up. In truth, you hadn’t even noticed them being moved there. “I’ll just take these up to your dorm room, Y/N.” He smiles once more at you before he turns, walking towards the house with your belongings in tow.
“I’ll give them a little check over once we get there,” Natasha says, drawing your attention back to her. She passes you a playful wink that causes a strange feeling in your chest. “But I’m sure there’s nothing in there that will get you in trouble, hm?”
“I don’t think-“ Your response is cut off by your sudden realisation you’re standing alone, your parents retreating back to the car and already starting the engine. “Wait I-“
“Don’t worry.” The redhead’s words yet again distract you, pulling your attention away from the vehicle behind you. “They’ll be back at the weekend to visit. You’ll be seeing them again in no time.” Natasha turns to stand side by side with you, her hand resting on your back as she gently begins to press you forwards. “Now how about you just come with me and I can show you around the place. How does that sound?”
“A-alright,” you stumble, giving one glance back to the car that has already pulled away from the camp. You let the woman by your side guide you as you watch it slowly move further and further away up the road, officially leaving you all alone.
The tour Natasha gives you, however, helps to lift your spirits a little. The camp grounds are rather beautiful, the grass vibrant and speckled with small colourful flowers. The buildings themselves are also very pleasant, all adding to the soft summer camp feel the area had. Natasha first directs you to the small bunker home her and Steve resided in, claiming members were not allowed inside but there was a small bell if you ever needed them at any time. Next, she shows you the church; a small yet grand building with dazzling stained glass windows. As you walk the pews, Natasha tells you how their service is held each morning, directed by Steve himself.
“I hear you’re in your church choir?” Natasha quips as you take in the way the light hits the windows, spreading bright colours across the floor of the building.
“Yes,” you reply, lifting your head and smiling sheepishly. “I have been since I was thirteen.”
“You’ll have to sing for us one time,” Natasha says playfully, before beckoning you out of the church and off to your next destination. On your way, she explains a little of how their program works; a mixture of group lessons and singular sessions to help you understand your problem. “Do you still attend bible study, Y/N?” Natasha asks as you approach the main building.
Shyly, you turn to face her. “No. I stopped a few years ago when I turned sixteen.”
The redhead clicks her tongue but overall doesn’t seem too disappointed, still smiling over you. “Don’t worry,” she replies. “I’m sure our study will set you just right again.” She passes you another wink before you step in through another door that she opens ahead of you.
The building has a wide front opening, a set of grand stairs set out ahead in the expanse of the tall ceilings. At the bottom of them, you suddenly notice a tall girl standing there. She’s wearing a neat uniform, her long black hair pulled back into two braids. “Y/N,” Natasha says, gesturing towards the girl. “I’d like you to meet Kate. She’ll be your mentor while you settle in.”
The raven-hair girl smiles at you as she extends a hand. You shake it, sharing a quick greeting before she hands you a welcome packet. Natasha explains how all of the rules are written inside, alongside a list of other expectations and your schedule for your stay. You hold on to it against your chest as the pair walk you around the house on your continued tour.
Inside of the main building, it feels somewhat like a mixture of a house and a school. There are two classrooms, both filled with a set of students learning from a tutor at the front of the class. A large dining hall was also set up, functioning like a school canteen. Downstairs there were a few recreational spaces with small couches arranged around card tables, all littered with various bible verse posters along the walls. As you move upstairs, Natasha shows you the bathrooms and the couple isolation rooms they had, though she assured you, you most likely wouldn’t be spending any time in there.
“Now, let’s get you some uniform, hm?” Natasha says, moving further down the corridor. She opens a long cupboard, filled with rows of pleated skirts and crisp white shirts. She looks through the rails before handing you a set of uniform in your size. Her and Kate then give you some privacy in the cupboard to change while they step outside.
The uniform is light blue, the skirt pleated through with lines of navy. The sweater vest is a matching dark blue, the logo of the camp embroidered onto one breast. You pull it on over the white button shirt, followed by the long white socks and black patent shoes Natasha had also provided. When you step out of the cupboard, the older woman takes hold of your old clothes, claiming she’ll take care of them for you until you’d be needing them again. You’re not entirely sure what she means but she’s continuing on with the tour once more before you can truly give it much thought.
“These are the girl’s dormitories,” the redhead says as she opens another door, guiding you inside. As you step in, you notice two rows of small cots, lined up with matching pink floral bedsheets. You notice one on the end, your bags sat atop waiting for you. But what catches your eye even more, is the brunette girl splayed across one of the middle beds, a magazine between her hands. She looks up as all three of you walk into the room, her green eyes meeting directly with you.
“Miss Maximoff,” Natasha says as soon as she notices the girl. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your lessons right now?”
The girl diverts her gaze to the camp director. “I didn’t feel well so I came to lie down.”
The way the girl lay across her stomach, face perfectly amused as her eyes flitted across her magazine didn’t exactly come across to you as unwell. It seems that Natasha too picks up on her lie, simply passing the brunette a small scowl. “Nice try.”
There’s a moment where the girl stares back, almost daring the women with her gaze, but she soon gives up, instead rolling her eyes as a long frustrated sigh escapes her lips. “Fine,” she mumbles, lifting herself up from the bed and slowly walking towards you. As she does, you notice how her shirt is unbuttoned further down and how her skirt is rolled at her waist, climbing the front of her thighs.
Natasha seems unfazed by her antics, simply holding out her hand which the brunnete places her magazine into with another sigh. The redhead gives it a once over before staring back at the girl. “This is contraband. Where did you find it?”
The brunette simple smirks in response. Her shoulders briefly brushes against yours as she squeezes her way through your group, headed towards the door. Before she leaves, she turns, walking gently backwards as the smirk widens on her face. “The Lord showed me the way to it.” She turns again quickly, disappearing from the dormitory alongside her lingering gaze.
Natasha doesn’t make any move to follow her, simply inclines her head as as she shouts down the corridor. “Roll down your skirt, Miss Maximoff!” Her voice still echoing, the redhead then turns back to you, that perfect smile returning almost as quickly as it at dropped. “I’m so sorry about that,” she says, glancing down at you. “Some of the other girls are a little…challenged in finding the light. Sometimes they can be a bad influence but I’m sure if you just stick with Kate, you’ll be just fine.”
You glance at the tall girl stood beside you, her soft grin looking back. “If you have any questions, feel free to ask Kate. Or of course, me or Steve at any point,” Natasha adds, drawing your attention back to her. You nod in response and she smiles back, placing a hand on to your shoulder. “Now, how about we take a look at your bags?”
———
Settling in isn’t as hard as you thought it might be. Kate is nice, you discover quickly, and helps you get unpacked. You tuck your things away into the drawers under your bed, then some more of your belongings in to the bedside table - next to the complementary bible you find tucked inside. Kate explains you can put up some photos with blue tac if you wish, pointing out to some of the other girls’ beds who have done the same. You borrow some of said blue tac from her as you stick a photo of your family alongside one of you and your boyfriend up on to the wall.
Afterwards, Kate sits with you while you look through your welcome packet. A lot of it relates to the pamphlet your parents had given you before your arrival, talking all about the camp and its methods of tackling what they phrase, ‘the misdirection of youths towards homosexuality’. The entire idea is still a little scattered in your head, but you brush it aside as you delve further into the rules and scheduling of the camp.
There are quite a few rules written down, a lot of which you recognise from your own home regulations. No curse words are to be used, nor any other inappropriate language. The Lord’s name must not be used in vain. Members must pray before each meal and every night before bed. Uniform must be worn at all times.
Then there are other rules that make you feel a little more uncertain. There is strictly NO fraternising between members. No member is permitted in the opposite dormitory to which they are assigned. Any inappropriate belongings will be confiscated.
The last rule makes you wonder back to the girl you’d seen sat inside the dormitory. There have been something ‘inappropriate’ about her magazine, obviously leading to the confiscation by Natasha. You weren’t quite sure what about it could be so bad, the name you’d glanced at briefly unrecognisable before Natasha had quickly stashed it away from your sight. If anything, the whole ordeal had only made you more curious about the strange girl and what exactly she had been reading.
As if the universe could hear your thoughts, it’s barely a few hours later when you collide with the girl once more. It’s lunch time, Kate and you just having sat down with your plates of food after she’d explained how they were set out each meal time. The dining room is filling up, all of the other camp members filing in to take their place at differing tables. It’s as your inspecting the meal in front of you that a very particular member sets herself down in front you.
“Hey, newbie.”
Your head raises from the table as you hear the voice, looking up to meet the same pair of green eyes that you recalled from earlier. The brunette stares back at you, a small smile playing at her lips as she watches your face. “Uh…hi?”
You don’t get to say much more before Kate is speaking up, leaning over the table with a scowl. “Get lost, Maximoff. We don’t want you to sit with us.”
The brunnete turns to look at the other girl, a frown of her own appearing between two perfect brows. “Loosen up, Bishop. I just wanted to say hello to our newest addition.” As she finishes, her eyes trail back to you, the scowl dropping away to that same smirking expression. For a moment it seems as if she looks you up and down, scanning over your uniform before studying your face again. “I’m Wanda,” she says eventually, voice light. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
You smile back a little awkwardly, torn between your polite nature and the instructions you had received to avoid this exact girl sat opposite you. “Y/N,” you reply, letting your manners overtake the situation.
“Just go away, Wanda,” Kate butts in suddenly, her voice raised. “I’m her mentor, not you.”
The brunette screws up her face as she turns to the raven-haired girl, scoffing under her breath. “God Kate, you’re so fucking uptight.” She sighs loudly as she pushes herself up from the table. As she does, you notice how her skirt is still rolled at the waist. But you don’t settle on it too long, distracted as she begins to speak again. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” Wanda says, her voice playful once more. Her eyes train on you for just a moment as she backs away from the table, another girl soon taking her place.
“Just ignore her,” Kate grumbles over to you. She begins to list a string of complaints about the girl but doesn’t get far, soon interrupted by Reverend Steve calling for grace at the front of the room. You bow your head as he begins to pray, clasping your hands under your chin just as you did with every meal you ate at home. A chorus of ‘amens’ rings out as the prayer finishes, all heads lifting once more to begin eating their lunch. As you lift yours, your gaze briefly flashes across the room, catching across the way, a pair of green eyes staring back at you. Wanda sits smirking, but you don’t see much else, quickly finding yourself flustered and looking away, turning your concentration instead to the plate of food sat in front of you.
———
Natasha’s office is very nice. That’s your first thought when you enter through the door, guided by her hand on the base of your spine. There are a few wide windows on one wall, white shutters open to give a view of the lake just down a grassy hill. Her desk sits in one corner, a plush vibrant chair close by, then across the way, a small couch. There are shelves littered with both plants and framed pictures, most depicting some sort of bible verse.
You sit yourself down on the sofa while Natasha settles in her chair beside her desk, pulling out a notebook as she turns to face you. There’s an exchange of pleasantries as she explains exactly how these private sessions will go and how anything you say is entirely confidential. You nod, sitting rather folded in on yourself, uncertainty still coursing through your body.
“So Y/N,” Natasha says eventually, crossing her legs over the other. “To start off, why don’t you tell me a little bit about the first time you experienced homosexual tendencies.”
The request is one that leaves you stumbling a little. “Oh I- well…” You swallow, landing on the same response you’d had every time your parents had suggested the idea. “I’m not actually gay. Everyone just thinks that I am.”
Natasha’s face changes, taking on a soft but curious expression. “And why do you say that?”
“Well I’m not,” you reply. “I don’t- I don’t like girls. I have a boyfriend.”
That fact alone seemed enough to you for this whole endeavour to be needless. You didn’t like girls, couldn’t like them. You and your boyfriend had been going strong for over two years. He was handsome, funny, and you were sure you loved him. Even if you did feel slightly disgusted every time his lips touched yours…
“Listen Y/N,” Natasha says, her voice calm. “I know this whole experience can seem a little daunting but we’re here to help you, okay?” She smiles softly, the intention of her words feeling truthful. “But the first step of your journey needs to be your admittance to your problem.”
It isn’t that you don’t feel comfortable telling Natasha about your problem, in fact you actually feel a strange warmth in your stomach whenever she talks to you, but in your mind, there was no problem to begin with. “I’m not gay.”
Natasha sighs at your answer. She adjusts herself in her seat, her soft gaze looking back at you. “Think about it like this; homosexuality is like a disease. These thoughts weave their way into your mind, changing your behaviour.” The redhead raises a set of perfect brows. “But we can’t begin to heal if we don’t have a proper diagnosis. Can’t administer the right treatment if we can’t admit we’re ill, right?”
Her analogy isn’t lost on you, somewhat similar to something you’d heard your pastor say back at your home church. “Yeah…I guess that makes sense.”
“Now what you’re experiencing can be fixed,” Natasha continues. “I’ve seen it fixed many times before. You can heal Y/N, break away from this and find the light of our good lord.” With his name, Natasha glances up to the cross hanging on the wall beside you. Your eyes follow too. “Don’t you want that?”
You turn back to the woman, your voice sounding small. “Of course I do.”
Natasha smiles. “That’s good.” She rearranges herself again, adjusting to hold her notebook and pen better. “Now, could you maybe tell me first time you can remember ever having thoughts about other women?”
“I don’t-I haven’t,” you stumble. “I don’t think about them like that.”
Like that. It was a phrase you’d repeated like a mantra in your head. You didn’t want a girlfriend, you didn’t want a girl to kiss you. You thought about girls the same way everyone else did. Sure, sometimes your eyes would fall to their ass when they walked to the front of class, or perhaps you got a bit hot and bothered in the changing rooms before gym, maybe even your favourite movie scene was the one where all the girls would go to the beach and play in the water. But that was what everyone else thought too…right?
“Alright,” Natasha says, sighing again. “I can see you’re really struggling with this, but that’s okay. I’m here to help you.” She smiles. “How about we take a little look at your family history, hm? See if that can get things kickstarted for us?”
You spend the rest of your session talking about your family. Natasha asks about extended members, questioning about any problems there may be down your blood line. But as far as you know, it all comes up clean, your entire family the same good Christian folks you’ve always known them to be.
Finding nothing of interest, Natasha moves on to talk about your childhood. She asks about your time at school, how long you’d attended church, what sort of friends you had. It’s all scribbled down on the notebook in her hand as you list off answers, all the perfect idiom of what a good Christian girl should be.
By the end of your session, you’ve spoke about almost everything that’s led you up to where you are now. Natasha asks again about your feelings towards women, trying to compare the reasons your parents sent you here to real acts of homosexuality. But all in all, it’s no use. At the end of the hour, you’re still in denial, refusing any accusation of your alleged problem. Thankfully, Natasha doesn’t seem angry, still smiling softly as you leave her office. She send you away with an assignment to think about what could be your ‘root’, what she terms the initial source of your unholy thoughts, determined once you figure this out, it will begin your journey to sanctuary.
———
The next few days pass by without much excitement. You begin to settle into your lessons, listening as a few ex-members of the program give speeches of their experiences, or as Steve talks about how God can help give meaning to your life. There are group therapy sessions you attend, though mostly sit quietly through, but listen while others talk about their own experiences and thoughts. It’s in them you notice a certain person who seems to stare at you from across the room. You try to avoid making eye contact but it seems each time you glance over, Wanda’s stare is trained on you.
Following what Natasha had said when you first arrived, you tried to stick to Kate’s side as much as possible, avoiding the other girl who seemed to look at you more often than not. When you weren’t in lessons you could avoid her, instead hanging around with Kate and her friends in the recreational spaces, sometimes watching one of the approved DVDs that lay beneath the TV. At meals, your group sits together, always saying your prayers before eating your food. But it seems even there you can’t escape the strange brunette, always catching her stare from across the room. It’s only in bible study, on the day that marks a week since your arrival, that you actually get to speak to her again.
Kate was sick today. She’d caught a head cold, presumably from her parents who came to visit her at the weekend. You had also had a visit, your mother and father asking every possible question about your stay and how you were finding camp. The visit had went well, but now a few days later you were left with no mentor to guide you throughout your day. It isn’t too much of a worry in your mind though, the layout and scheduling of the camp already becoming a familiar routine to your body. But what you aren’t used to, is a certain strange individual sitting in the seat where your mentor usually sat.
You don’t notice it is Wanda at first. Feeling the body slide against yours on the bench, your first thought is perhaps that Kate has made a miraculous recovery. But when you turn to face the individual and are met with piercing green eyes, you are certainly even more surprised. “Um,” you fumble, looking back at the brunette as you try to stumble for words. “That’s Kate’s seat.”
Wanda raises a brow, her head spinning to look around the room before it returns to you. “I don’t see her.” She smirks. “Besides, no seating arrangements, right?”
Technically she is correct. There is nothing actually stopping her from sitting beside you apart from your slight aversion to interacting with her. You slide your body away a few inches to the right, shifting away from the touch Wanda had initiated as she sat down a little to close. The brunette seems to notice, glancing down at the gap now settled between you, but she doesn’t say anything about it, instead just looking up at you as she flashes a set of white teeth. “So Y/N,” she begins, rolling your name easily over her tongue. “Where are you from?”
“Not far,” you reply, still inclined to politeness even with your anxiety around the interaction. You elaborate further, telling her the name of your town just two hours north of the camp.
Wanda hums at your response then crosses her legs on the bench. You try not to notice the way her rolled skirt flashes a pair of smooth pale legs. “I’m from down south,” she says. “Further than you, though. About six hours. My parents only come to visit about once a month.”
You met her eye as you try to think of a response, but before you can, you’re being interrupted. Reverend Steve calls out at the front of the class, silencing everyone so that he can begin calling the register. As names echo out across the room, you and Wanda’s conversation dies, but the soft warmth emanating from her body close to yours, does not leave for the rest of the lesson.
Having quit bible study over three years ago, you were a little worried you wouldn’t be able to keep up, but as Kate had told you last week, some of these kids had never even been to church, so the pace was definitely slow enough for you to follow along. The story Steve told today was one you knew rather well actually, one of the most prominent ones you could recall from your early teens. Still, you pay the upmost attention throughout the entire time he talks, eyes trained on his figure at the front of the classroom. What makes that a little difficult however, is the girl sat right beside you.
Wanda is easily distracted you notice quickly, constantly fidgeting with the pen in her hand - your pen actually, borrowed by the brunette when she claimed she had forgotten her own. You sit a little in shock as she casually graffitis the open bible sat upon the desk in front of her, mindlessly drawing squiggles and random shapes into the margin. You try your best to ignore her antics but it’s a little hard when she accidentally tosses her pen across the desk, following a failed attempt to spin it around her fingers. It lands over on your side, just to the right of your own bible. You go to reach for it to hand back to her but it seems she’s already moving before you can even get the chance.
Her body lifts slightly from the bench, stretching out across the table with one arm for her lost pen. As she does, her chest is brought closer to your face. Your eyes fall on the black cross hanging around her neck, then suddenly dip lower, catching the area of her shirt where her buttons are undone further than they should be. There’s the briefest of moments where your eyes linger there, passing over the ever so slightly visible cleavage that swells on her chest, but it’s less than seconds later you’re darting away. Wanda eventually picks her pen back up, after what feels like an eternity, and pulls back in her chair. You glance momentarily over at her, then quickly return to the bible open in front of you, trying your best to follow along with the passage Steve reads aloud while ignoring the strange sensation that has settled in your lower stomach.
———
Camp isn’t quite the way you imagined it to be. Before you arrived, you thought it would be entirely awful, like a prison only with more…God. But for most of your experience, it just feels like you’re back in school. Although, now your lessons about maths or science are replaced by those about God and the way into his heart. Just over two weeks in, you’ve picked up the swing of things quite nicely, falling into an easy routine as you move through the services and lessons with ease. The one thing you just can’t quite seem to grasp is the understanding of why you’re here in the first place.
You’ve had three private sessions now with Natasha, each of them as feeble at finding a change as the last. You’re still not ready to admit your problem, as Natasha puts it, reluctant to find the issue within yourself. But as you’ve said since before you even came, it’s a simple fact you aren’t gay. Natasha seems determined in her ways to make you see something different.
She’s handed you a book, walking out from your last session. The title reads, ‘My Sexuality and Me: Finding the Root of Homosexual Tendencies’. You’re tasked with reading it before your next session in hopes it might finally help you understand your own thoughts. For now, however, it has to wait. Leaving your session, you go up to the dorm to drop it by your bed, taking just a moment before you have to head to your next organised activity.
The camp helps run on a set of scheduled chores that the members have to carry out. It’s on a rota, something Kate had shown you on your very first day, and changes each week. There’s everything from weed picking to cleaning dishes, all work that helps to keep the camp in shape for everyone staying there. Reverend Steve mentioned something about the work ethic helping everyone be grateful for what the lord had given them.
You have to go down to check the rota, forgetting what was scheduled for you this week. Most of the others are already dotted around the camp doing their chores, apparently your one-on-one session running over slightly and causing you to be a little late. You make your way down the stairs to the main room where the rota is located, pinned into a notice board on the wall. But as you turn the corner at the bottom of the stairs, you notice that you are in fact, not alone.
Wanda turns almost immediately when you round the corner. She’s stood up against the notice board, back resting upon the wall with one foot lifted against it. A smile appears on her face as you come into view, her teeth shining around the piece of pink bubblegum she chews. “Hey, princess.”
You try not to scoff at the name - an endearment the brunette had coined after seeing you one night writing in your diary about your boyfriend, claiming you were like a locked away princess longing for her prince to come save her. You’d rolled your eyes at her comment at the time, and had to deal with its return each time you’d bumped into her in the past week. Now, you try to ignore it as you walk past her and stare up at the notice board trying to find the chore schedule. However, Wanda is speaking again before you even get the chance to locate it.
“Looks like it’s you and me this week.” You glance over at her, watching as a pink bubble forms at her lips. You want to ignore her teasing, looking back to the board to locate where you would be stationed, but when your eyes fall upon the schedule, you realise she is right. Written on the notice board, right below the date of the beginning of the week is your and Wanda’s name, then below it; house duty.
You turn back to look at her, a pair of green eyes glinting your way. For a moment you think there’s some kind of mistake. After all, you had always been with Kate before. But then, not far away from yours is indeed Kate’s name written, not on house duty, but on pantry organisation.
Wanda smirks as she rolls the gum in her mouth, eyes fixated on you as she blows another bubble. When it pops, she finally speaks again. “You’ve never done house duty, have you?”
She’s right. You’re in unfamiliar territory and you don’t have your usual mentor to help guide you. “No,” you reply simply, gently shaking your head.
Wanda breathes out a laugh, throwing her head back slightly as she drops her leg from the wall. “Come on, princess,” she says teasingly, walking to close the gap between you. “I’ll guide you.”
Her hand is reaching for yours before you can protest against it. Soft skin slips into yours, gripping hold and quickly dragging you down the corridor. You stumble slightly, surprised by the whole encounter but Wanda doesn’t seemed fazed. She simply pulls you along the hall like a lost puppy. When your brain restarts from the initial shock, you look down at the way your fingers are grasped between hers. It’s a simple interaction at its core, an innocuous hand hold as she shows you the way to go. You’d done the same thing with your own friends back home many of times, but something about this one feels a little different. Something about the way her soft skin is warm against yours creates an odd fuzz in your head.
“Here we are,” Wanda announces, suddenly dropping your hand. You try not to think about the way it now feels cold as you watch her reach for a door handle. It opens to a cupboard, full of what looks like cleaning supplies. “We basically just dust everything,” the brunette continues, turning back to look at you. “Just dust and vacuum the floors in every room in the house. Oh- but not the bathroom, someone else will be doing those.”
You find yourself nodding, the task seeming simple enough. You’d dusted plenty of times at home, this couldn’t be any different.
Wanda lets out another laugh, seemingly at your immediate obedience to follow through with your task. “Alright, princess,” she says, cracking her gum. She reaches in to the cupboard, picking up a cloth and a bottle of disinfect spray. “I’ll do upstairs, you do downstairs?”
There isn’t much room for objection even if you had any, Wanda already beginning to walk away with the cloth thrown over one of her shoulders. You reach down to grab similar materials, standing back up to watch her figure moving down the corridor. “Stop calling me that!” You call out, but the girl is gone before your sentence is even finished, the protest seemingly falling on deaf ears. A sigh escapes your lips as you close the cupboard door, determined to just ignore the other girl while you begin your designated chore.
You start with the class rooms, wiping each desk with the spray and then dusting the other surrounding surfaces. You quickly find nothing was too dirty, the uphold from the other members ensuring the work wasn’t too difficult. You move next to the dining hall, then the recreational spaces, your cloth picking up any small specks of dust that have come to rest on the furniture and surfaces. When you’ve wiped down each room, you return to the cupboard for the vacuum you’d spied earlier. It’s older than the one you have at home but easy enough to work, quickly making light work of vacuuming the entire bottom floor.
It’s probably half an hour later when you finish, at least that’s the guess you make without a watch. You tidy away the cleaning supplies back into the cupboard before doing a quick inspection of everything to make sure you haven’t missed anything. Satisfied everything is clean, you turn your attention to your missing task partner. You haven’t seen Wanda once, barely even heard her moving upstairs. So, devoid of what else to do, you decide to head up to check if she needed any help.
You check a few rooms before you find her, the closest spaces absent of her presence. It’s only when you open the door to the girls dormitory that you finally see her. Except, she’s not cleaning like you expected her to be, in fact the cloth is entirely disregarded on the bedside table. Instead, Wanda sits with her back against the headrest of her bed, legs crossed over the top of her floral sheets and a magazine sat across her lap.
The door almost slams behind you as you catch eye of her, shock and repel taking you over. “You’re supposed to be cleaning!”
Wanda’s eyes pick up as she hears you yell, meeting your stare across the room. A smirk appears on her face, her expression seeming very amused by your sudden entrance. “Believe me, what I’m doing is much more enjoyable.”
You scowl back, annoyed by the fact you’d just spent the last half hour cleaning the house while she had been sitting up here doing nothing for who knows how long. If you were more argumentative, you would think of something to say in retaliation, some quick quip to get back at her for being lazy. But you’d never been very good at arguing, never very good at holding your temper. So instead you simply hold your tongue as you walk further in the room, watching Wanda as she stared back at you. Suddenly, your eyes fall to the paper in her hand, reminded of how similar this situation felt to the first time you’d met her. Like then, the same curiosity comes over you as to what she might be looking at, particularly how it could be classified as contraband. With that in mind, the next words you utter are not with anger anymore, but instead interest. “What are you reading?”
“Oh this?” Wanda replies, closing the magazine and holding it up briefly. She smirks your way, the grin wide against her cheeks. “Playboy.”
The word was unfamiliar to your mind. “What?”
Wanda’s brow raise. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of a playboy magazine.”
You notice in that moment she’d lost her gum from earlier. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if she’d stuck it under a piece of furniture somewhere. But still trying to focus on the conversation at hand, you simply shake your head in response.
Wanda looks surprised, her brows raising even further. You think she’s going to jest you further, make fun of you for not recognising the name of her treasured magazine, but instead she simply extends it out. “Look.”
You move slowly, slightly hesitant to approach. You know Natasha had confiscated something like this from Wanda before and you didn’t presume this new magazine was much different from that previously banned material. Still, your curiosity seems to be getting the better of you because you slowly sit down on Wanda’s bed, your legs hanging off the side whilst the brunette crosses hers. Against the covers of the bed, Wanda slides the magazine between the two of you, opening it to a random page. What is plastered over it causes your eyebrows to raise completely in shock.
Women. But not just any pictures of women. The magazine was covered in dozens of images of women in differing stages of nudity. Immediately when you saw it, you felt the need to pull your eyes away, knowing that these kind of images were most definitely not the kind you should be looking at. But at the same time, it was like you couldn’t stop. There are about four models across the two pages scattered with different images, sometimes wearing sets of black lacy lingerie, sometimes wearing nothing at all. Theres a strange sensation bubbling in your gut, an odd warmth spreading through your mind as you look down at the pictures. The pure immorality of it all is enough for you to shake your head viscously.
“This is-we’re not-you shouldn’t have that.” You stutter, the images imprinted in your brain making it harder to focus and find the right words. You’ve never seen anything like that before, never looked at a woman’s body so out in the open. Now you could see why Natasha had quickly confiscated Wanda’s magazine and hidden it away from your view. “How do you even have this?”
The brunette seems utterly unfazed by the material in front of you. More so, her face looks amused at your alarmed reaction. “I steal them out of my brother’s backpack when he comes to visit,” she replies casually, as if this is something she’s been doing for months. “He’s pretty oblivious so he never notices, always thinks he lost them. Besides, even if he did know, he couldn’t tell my parents. He’s not allowed them either.”
While Wanda explains, you have to fight against yourself to hold eye contact. In your peripheral, you can still see the open page of nude women, restraining yourself from your body’s seemingly natural instinct to look down. “This isn’t right,” you reply, shaking your head. “We shouldn’t be looking at that.”
Wanda scoffs, looking displeased at your disapproval. She reaches out for the magazine, pulling it back into her own lap as she glances down at the images. Then, she’s looking back up at you, face inquisitive. “You’ve really never seen one before?”
You’re not sure exactly where she thinks you were going to find such a thing, but you’re certain you’ve never seen anything of the sort before. “No,” you reply sternly, shaking your head once more.
Wanda laughs to herself, rolling her eyes. “You call yourself a lesbian and you don’t even know what a playboy is.”
Her words cause a deep frown to appear on your brow, your voice raising to almost a shout. “I’m not a lesbian.”
A perfect brow raises in your direction as Wanda looks at you. Her expression seems particularly amused. “No? How’d you end up here then?”
The question hits you hard, the same thing you’d been pondering to yourself over the last few weeks of your stay. “I’m not gay,” you reply harshly. “Everyone just thinks that I am.”
“And why do you think they think that?”
Wanda’s eyes meet your own as she speaks, the question another one familiar to your own mind. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “Stupid reasons.” You think back to the conversation you’d had with your parents, the first time any of this had even cropped up into your mind. “A few posters I had up in my room, a couple songs on my playlist. Oh, and I told my boyfriend I don’t like kissing him. Which is totally stupid. I’m pretty sure he’s just really bad at it.”
A chuckle emanates from Wanda’s throat. You’re not quite sure why, watching as she leans in closer to you. When she speaks again, her face is barely inches from your own. “Oh honey, you don’t like kissing him because you like kissing girls.”
“What?” you exclaim, taken aback by her accusation. That couldn’t possibly be right. “No! I don’t! I told you, I’m not a lesbian.”
Wanda smirks, her eyes trained on yours. “Okay, maybe not a lesbian but I bet you’ve thought about a girl while he’s kissing you.”
The idea was entirely preposterous. “No!” you yelled back. “I haven’t!”
But your anger is only met with amusement on Wanda’s side, her smirk only deepening as she leans back on the bed. “You’re cute when you lie.”
The words have you recoilling, the inclination behind them picked up on yet rejected by your brain. And yet, you could feel a warmth spreading to your cheeks, embarrassment flushing in.
“Have you ever kissed a girl?”
You snap on to Wanda as her question rings out, watching as she casually slides her magazine back behind her bedside table. “No,” you reply firmly. “Of course not.”
“Then how do you know you don’t like it?” The brunette sits up again, leaning in closer to you. Her eyes meet your own, a strange shadow seemingly passing over them. She watches you for a moment, in almost unreadable expression moving across her face. “Surely theres only one way to find out.”
Wanda’s voice is low, barely above a whisper. You find you’re too busy watching her lips to notice her leaning in even closer, face barely centimetres from your own. Suddenly, you pull back. “What are you doing?”
Wanda doesn’t miss a beat, continuing to lean in even as you pull away. One of her hands comes to rest on your thigh, fingers grazing the material of your pleated skirt. “It’s okay,” she says lowly. “I’m just trying to help you.”
Her advance doesn’t stop, face moving closer and close towards yours. It’s only when she’s almost touching you, you realise she’s trying to kiss you. “No,” you say quickly, pushing her back by the shoulders. “We can’t do that. It’s not right.”
Wanda sighs, relaxing her posture a little. She shifts in the bed, eyes still trained on you. For a moment she simply looks over your face before that smirk appears once more. “Maybe…” she says, angling her head. “But isn’t that the whole reason we’re here?” The question slightly throws you for a loop, your confusion allowing Wanda to move closer to you once more. “Don’t do you want to be a good girl and finish the program?”
The way her breath fans across your face sends an odd shiver down your neck, goosebumps appearing on your arms. Her choice of words seems to form an odd feeling in your stomach, but you try your best to brush it off, nodding your head in response to the question. You did want to finish the program. You wanted to be able to go back home to your family.
Wanda smiles at your answer, her head angling to the side as her voice takes a caring tone. “Well we both know what the first step is…You have to admit to yourself you like girls.” She leans in closer, her eyes briefly flashing down to your lips. “You can’t heal if you don’t admit you have a problem.”
Her words mirror those of Natasha’s, the same thing she’d been trying to get through to you for weeks. But you can’t help but fight the part of your brain that recalls everything you’ve been taught about attraction. “This isn’t right,” you say quietly. “You have to stop.” And yet you find yourself making no move to pull away from the girl whose face sits mere inches from your own.
“As I said, I’m just trying to help you.” Wanda’s voice is calm, understanding. “Once you realise you like girls, you can move on with the rest of the program.” Then the brunette shrugs a shoulder. “Or hey, you maybe hate it and realise you actually are straight.”
It makes some sense in your mind but you’re still hesitant, knowing that what Wanda was even suggesting was against everything you wanted to believe in. “I don’t think that we should-“
“Just don’t think.” Wanda cuts you off before you can finish, and before you can even process what’s happening, she closes the final gap between you. Her lips meet yours, soft and warm against your skin. It’s gentle but rough at the same time, your eyes fluttering closed. Then immediately, as the warmth leaves, they snap back open.
Wanda’s staring back at you, face smiling. “How’d that feel?” You notice that her eyes look a little blown out, pupils wide against the sea of green. “Feels good right?”
Suddenly you realise what’s just happened, every part of your upbringing screaming inside your head. “What? No!” you reply, flustering. “No, it didn’t feel good. It felt wrong.”
But some part of you creeps up in the back of your mind, a part you recognised and yet wanted to snuff out more than anything, a part that knew you were lying.
And apparently, Wanda can see right through to that part too. “I can see it on your face, honey,” she says, voice now teasing. Her eyes trace over your features and you wonder what exactly gave it away. There isn’t much time to think however, as before you know it, Wanda’s leaning in again. Her lips meet yours, a hand sliding to your thigh once more.
“Stop,” you reply, pulling away. “This isn’t right. We’re not supposed to-“
Wanda cuts you off again. “Don’t think about what we’re supposed to do. Think about what feels right.”
You notice again the wildness of her pupils, only for a moment, before she leans in again. Your eyes close on impact, her lips crashing into yours in another kiss. Only this time you instinctively lean into it, pursing your lips against hers. Wanda pushes back, her mouth opening just slightly to take in your lips and you find yourself leaning in. There’s a reminiscent taste of bubblegum, sweet on your tongue as her saliva begins to mix with your own. The hand on your thigh tightens, another placed on to the side of your face. For a second you don’t think about anything other than just how good this moment feels.
It’s seconds later Wanda pulls away, her touch lingering but her lips missing. You find your eyes opening, gazing back at the smirking brunette staring back at you. “It feels pretty good doesn’t it?”
You’re lost for words, sure of your answer to her question but so reluctant to admit it. Wanda smiles back at you, her grip on your leg slowly raising up, ever so slightly bunching the fabric of your skirt. Before you can formulate a response, she’s moving in towards you. Her face disappears into the crook of your neck, her warm breath fanning out across your skin before her lips attach. Without thinking, your head falls back, only giving the brunette more access to nip at the skin of your neck. Your eyes feel heavy, an odd sensation pooling deep in your body. “I can make you feel so good…”
The words reverberate across your skin, sending shivers down your neck and across your chest. A small whine exits your throat, unintended by any part of you but seemingly drawn out by the gentle touches of both Wanda’s lips and her fingers dancing across your skin. “Wanda…”
The brunette slowly pulls back, her face rising to meet with yours. Theres a look in her eye you can’t identify. “You’re already a sinner now, right?” she says, voice husky. “No harm in twisting the knife.”
There’s a moment where you want to turn away, to listen to the rational part of your brain that tells you this is all wrong. But right now there’s only one thing you can truly think of; just how good it felt with Wanda’s lips against your own.
Your hands grab at the brunettes shoulders as you pull her in, the pair of you colliding before you even recognise what you’re doing. The kiss comes fast, clashing together in your desperation for the girl to stop talking and just to feel her against you again. Wanda smirks against your lips, humming an amused noise before she’s all over you.
Her hands find purchase in your hair, entangling in the strands at the nape of your neck as she pulls you in closer to her body. Her kiss becomes fiercer, control quickly being regained as she presses her lips into yours. A small hum of your own escapes as she presses her tongue into your mouth, quickly taking over as you simply let her in without protest. And in that moment a thought crashes over your mind; gay or not, your boyfriend was definitely bad at kissing. Furthermore, Wanda was very, very good.
Your hands grips slightly at her shoulders as the brunette domineers the kiss, her lips almost possessive against your own as her hand clutches as your cheek, manipulating your position to give her full control. You feel her other hand begin to drift further up your legs, pushing your skirt up to your hips before climbing even higher. Delicate touches grace over your stomach, then softly against your chest. You release a small whine as Wanda nips at your lip with her teeth, at the same time, reaching to unbutton the top clasp of your shirt. Her fingers work faster than your mind can even process, too distracted by the touch of her lips to notice her quick work of opening your entire shirt. It’s only when she reaches to touch your chest, a gasp of realisation releases from your throat.
Wanda however, continues without missing a beat. As you gasp, she lets her lips leave your own, reappearing quickly on the side of your neck. Her hand tightens around the skin beneath it on your chest, fingers squeezing around your bra and grabbing hold of your breast beneath it. Her soft kisses continue to move lower as you whine softly, her touch against your chest sending shivers down your body.
Then, her mouth turns more aggressive, resting just at the curve of your breast she begins to suck on the flesh harder, nipping with her teeth before smoothing it over with her tongue. You whine softly, the new sensation novel to your body but so intrinsically intuned. For the first time your eyes open, looking down to where the brunette resides again your chest. You notice the way your necklace rests between the wisps of her hair, a silver cross that you’d worn every day for years. The image is enough to remind you of how wrong this is, how under no circumstances you should be letting a girl kiss you or touch your body like this. But before you can fully wrap your mind around the forbidden nature of the act, a new sensation is stripping a small gasp from your chest. Wanda’s fingers move back to your thighs, slipping up the exposed skin before coming to rest on your underwear underneath.
“Wanda…” you breathe heavily, worked up by her touch and yet knowing how wrong it all was. You shouldn’t be doing this, any of it, especially what Wanda was insinuating as she slipped her hand beneath your skirt.
“Shh, it’s okay.” The brunette replies with ease, her voice low and sensual. Her eyes raise back up to your face, meeting your gaze with a blown out expression. “Let me make you feel good, Y/N.”
And with that, her mouth is on yours again. Her kiss is enough to distract you from forming a response, eyes closing as the sweet taste of bubblegum coats your tongue once more. Then you feel her fingers again, pressing lightly against the material of your underwear, tracing the lines of your folds underneath. Small noises travel from your mouth to hers, receptive to her touch, but it’s when she presses her thumb to your clothed clit, a moan finally slips out.
The situation is entirely new to you, never having been touched by anyone this way before. You and your boyfriend had always said you’d wait till marriage, just like you knew you should. But here with Wanda, her lips against yours and her fingers tracing your most delicate areas, the endorphins flowing through your brain are enough to say to hell with it all.
You push harder into the kiss, grasping hold of Wanda’s shoulders as you try to gain the upper hand. But the brunette is much more experienced than you and doesn’t let up easily. Her hands move to your own shoulders and quickly begin to push the open shirt from them. Her lips remain on yours, strong and fierce, until the shirt has been slipped from your body. Then Wanda pulls away, her eyes drifting down over you for just a moment before she’s grabbing at you again. She spins you around, pulling you fully on to the bed as her hands press your shoulders down into the mattress. In a swift movement, she’s kicking off her shoes to the floor, then pulling yours off too. She comes to settle on top of you, knees placed either side of your legs as she looks down. Her hands are quick as she unbuttons her own shirt, tossing it to the side. Then, she’s moving to unclip her bra.
You feel your eyes widen slightly as Wanda’s bare chest is revealed to you. Before the magazine she’d shown you minutes before, it’s the first time you’ve looked at another woman so nude. And in that moment, despite what your brain is screaming out to you, you can’t help but think about how good she looks.
Wanda seems to notice your staring, her face pulling an entirely amused expression as she looks down at you. “I don’t see why you deprive yourself of this, Y/N,” she says, beginning to lean in. Her lips meet your neck, sucking gently as you feel her fingers slip behind your shoulder blades, seeking the clasp of your bra. “Can something truly be so wrong if it brings you so much pleasure?”
You try to reply to her question, brain racking all of the answers you know you should be saying. But then her lips are sucking at your neck and you’re arching into her touch, once again taken over entirely by the flush of pleasure underneath her control. Theres a release against your chest as Wanda unclips your bra, tossing it easily to the side along with her own. “So gorgeous,” the brunette murmurs, one hand coming to grab at your chest. Then her lips are on you again, kissing at the skin around your nipple. When she pulls it into her mouth, teeth grazing over the bud, a needy whine erupts in your throat. Wanda smirks against you, breathing out a laugh. “So sensitive.”
Her mouth continues to work around the skin of your chest, before you notice her fingers crawling over your stomach. They take hold of your skirt, pressing it up to bunch at your waist. Then Wanda is moving away, fingers quickly hooking themselves under the sides of your underwear as she begins to slide them down.
For a sudden moment, you’re acutely aware of what’s going on, of how you are quite literally in a dorm at a camp where this type of behaviour was attempted to be corrected. Not to mention the rule of any sort of fraternisation being entirely banned. “Wait,” you say, looking down at the brunette between your legs, suddenly afraid of what you were about to do. “I don’t think-“
“I told you to stop thinking,” Wanda replies, eyes snapping to yours. She continues to pull your underwear down, throwing them to the floor once they’ve passed your ankles. Before you can say anything more, her lips drown you in a kiss. The sweetness of it all is enough to wipe any of the doubt from your mind, so when Wanda’s hands dip between your legs, you don’t hesitate to let her. Deft fingers run between your folds, teasing you slightly as they brush gently across your clit. You sigh breathily between the breaks of your kiss, Wanda’s touch like electric to your skin.
“God, you’re so wet, Y/N,” the brunette whispers, pulling her face away to smirk down at you. “Is this all for me?”
She’s teasing you, making you think about how hesitant you’d been to this whole idea, and then about how receptive you were under her touch. But you don’t want to think about any of that, don’t want to remind yourself of how wrong this all was. All you want is for her to keep going. “Wanda…” you whine, squirming under her as her fingers teased your entrance. “Please.”
You don’t even truly know what you’re asking for her to do, all you know is you need her. Thankfully, the brunette is proficient in picking up your body’s signals. “Shh, it’s okay,” she whispers, breath fanning across your face. “I know what you need, princess. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
It’s only seconds later you feel her middle finger plunge into you. You let out a loud gasp at the contact, feeling her finger begin to move inside of you like nobody’s had before. Her name drips off your tongue, laced with pleasure, as her head moves back to your chest, tongue playing with your hardened nipple. Theres a mark resting there, red and throbbing below the skin of your cross. In the heat of the moment, you hands reach out to grasp the back of her head, intertwining with her hair as you feel her add another finger inside you.
The pleasure rolls of you in waves, Wanda’s touch like a skilled professional highly attuned to draw sweet subtle moans from your mouth. Her thumb circles your clit as she continues to pump her fingers inside of you, curling them to reach that spot that sends shivers up your spine.
“Fuck, Wanda,” you murmur, nails lightly scratching at her bare back.
The brunette chuckles, raising her head from your chest. “Now that’s not a very holy word, is it Y/N?” She smirks, and for a moment her touch is gone. You whine, chasing her fingers as they leave your needy core. Theres a second she lifts her weight and you see her reaching to remove her own underwear, then she’s back on you, this time sitting against just on of your thighs. You can feel her wetness against your skin, a soft moan escaping as she makes contact. “I wanna cum with you, okay?” she says, eyes meeting yours. You nod eagerly but your reply is swallowed up by a low cry as her fingers suddenly sink back into you.
Her speed picks up as she begins to curl inside you once again, a soft stream of curses leaving your lips at the unexplainable pleasure of her touch. You can feel Wanda begin to grind on to your thigh as she works, soft gasps escaping from her lips each time her clit brushes beautifully against your skin. She showers your praises as you whimper noises of your own, breaths heavy and moans unrestrained as she brings you closer and closer to that edge.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous, princess,” Wanda husks over you. “Such a pretty girl for me.”
Her words only add to the building feeling in your lower stomach, that familiar coil building from the times you’d reached down to pleasure yourself after your parents had went to bed - not that you would tell anyone that.
“Please, Wanda,” you whimper, back arching into her. “I’m close-please…”
One hand continues to pump inside you, paced perfectly as her curled fingers reached that spot with each thrust. The other come up to play with a perked nipple, the bud rolling though Wanda’s fingers as helpless whines spill from your mouth. “Just a minute, princess,” Wanda replies, her breathing heavy. “I’m almost there.”
Surprisingly, her pace doesn’t falter as she too climbs closer to her orgasm. Her moans grow louder, her cunt grinding harder against your thigh as she continues to swirl your clit at the perfect speed. It’s when you finally tense the muscles in your leg, that she finally falls apart.
You feel her soak your thigh, gasping desperately as she cums. You watch mesmerised as her face screws up, her jaw hanging loose as she rides out her orgasm on your leg, drunk on pleasure. It only adds to the bundling arousal pooling in your lower stomach.
“Cum, pretty girl” Wanda whispers, still coming down from her high. “Cum for me.”
And you do. With her fingers curling just right inside you, you finally tip over the edge. Your orgasm comes hard, crashing over you in a tidal wave as Wanda slowly circles your clit, guiding you through it. A guttural moan elicits from your throat, Wanda’s name lacing your tongue. That pleasant buzz takes over your mind as you feel her fingers slow, riding out your high, drunk on her touch. You’re on the brink of overstimulation when she finally removes her hand entirely. Eventually your eyelids flutter open, heavy from exhaustion, and you spy the brunette with her fingers deep isnide her mouth, her tongue lapping up every last bit of your arousal.
“So sweet,” she murmurs above you, both of your minds still fuzzy from the resounding pleasure. Eventually, the brunette moves herself away from your thigh, whining slightly as her core is exposed to the cool air. Her body flops down next to yours, shoulders touching as you lay cramped in the single cot. Your heavy breaths are the only sound for a long while, loud in the silence of the dormitory. Then finally, when you’ve managed to right your body again, your face turns to look at the girl beside you. Wanda is already staring back, green eyes wide as a huge smirk settles across her lips. She looks you up and down, her grin only widening as she husks, “You still wanna believe you’re not into girls?”.
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ravens-two · 5 months
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PAC: Your First Time With Your Person 18+
This reading includes:
how your first time will be like w/ your person
where and how it might happen
The extended reading includes:
what you will think about it
what your person will think about it
Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone. Also, this content is 18+ only!
TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC
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Pile 1
Emperor rx, Two of Pentacles rx, Tower, Chariot | Sun god
"Come all, come now; expand into the skies and into the shadows below."
Hi pile 1, the energy here is very very masculine and dominant. I feel like most of you will be the more submissive energy so I'm going to focus on that for the reading, but please switch it around if you feel like it applies better to you that way. Anyhow, there isn't any switching or "equality" here, this is straight up power exchange energy. You are giving in to your person, letting them do whatever they want with you, complete surrender. This isn't scary for you though, you are doing this because you trust them completely and know they will take care of you. Honestly, despite this whole power play thing (I'm even seeing some manhandling) the sex will be super loving. I truly don't see it being rough or your person calling you names or anything like that. It's like they want to make love to you, they want to make sure that every single one of your needs is taken care of, but they don't want you to lift a finger. Just lay there and let them make you feel good, basically. Ooof, your person isn't shy about what they want, pile 1.
I think that this might happen either during the day or you will go all night long until sunrise (I think that for most of you it's the later). I also get the feeling that this will happen during spring/summer, or on a nice weather day. For most of you this is also happening in a bedroom. The energy I'm getting is that you and your person will want complete privacy and knowing that you have the time to do whatever you two want. For a smaller part of you this might begin in the car and then you move to the bedroom. The energy here is very explosive, it's like at first you're not really sure if you want to do this now, but then all of a sudden you can't think about anything else. I think that you'll be trying to convince yourself not do it at first for whatever reason.
I can't stop hearing the song "You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC, so this is some more confirmation that the sex is going to last awhile. Honestly, you should check out this song's lyrics if you aren't familiar, because I feel like it's totally the vibe of your first time with your person. They are crazy about you, pile 1, like crazy crazy. They have wanted to do this for a long time.
Also, let me warn you to make sure you're protected if you can get pregnant! Like, pregnancy is the energy here so be careful if that's a possibility for you. Not to be too explicit, but I'm also seeing a lot of fluids and playing with them, so make of that what you will. Also, if your person is a man he is BIG.
I think that some of you have like a daddy kink or authority figure kink and it's something that it will come into play as well. I think that they'll enjoy it very much as well. There's multiple orgasms here, and I think that you'll be coming very fast and very hard. It will be earth-shattering. For some of you I'm also seeing that the man might finish first - for some it might be a bit disappointing, but your person will make it up to you; for others though I think that it's because you're starting with oral first. Also, if you have breasts they love playing with your breasts, or maybe it's playing with nipples in general. But, yeah this will start with a lot of foreplay and then you guys will have multiple rounds.
Pile 2
Eight of Wands, Ace of Wands, Nine of Pentacles, Fool | Maiden
"Demand what is yours and take back what was taken. Reclaim until you've gathered all of you."
Pile 2, hi! The first thing I'm getting from this pile is that this will be your first time having sex. If this doesn't apply to you, it might be your first time having sex after a long pause or the first time having sex with someone of a certain gender, but if neither applies it might be that this pile isn't for you. I think that for most people this is about losing their virginity, though. No matter the case, I think that this will be really lovely. Your person will make you feel like a god/dess. There's a lot of passion here.
Just like pile 1, I think that this will happen in a "safe" setting, most likely in your bedroom or your person's bedroom. I think that this place has a feeling of luxury to it, even if it isn't exactly luxurious if that makes sense. Basically, it's very tidy, well organized, beautifully decorated, you feel welcome and relaxed in this place. I'm actually seeing a fur rug and throw blankets on a bed, so really comfy. I think that for most of you this isn't planned. I think that it just kind of happens that you have your person over or that you are at their place and then they do something that just makes you think "that's it, I need them". I get this feeling that you just suddenly realize how much you love and trust in this person so you try to initiate. I see you being a bit awkward at first, but you'll find your footing quickly. Before anything happens though I see you making out with your person and feeling each other up for a long time, then your person will ask you if you're really sure about that and then all hell breaks lose.
I think that you have a lot of pent up energy and desire and you want to get it out as quickly as possible, but your person will take over a little bit and slow you down. For one, they know that it might be a big mistake to rush you, but also they want to be thorough with it. This person wants to get to know every single inch of you, they want to know what you like, what you love, what you don't care for. They want to explore your body and consume you. It's like body worship really. It's like they don't want you to think about anything else, but their body on yours. (I also get the vibe that some of you are very anxious or over thinkers and your person really wants to make sure that you're grounded for once). I also get this vibe that your person thinks that you're a bit of a brat, in the best way possible though. I see them laughing as they say that.
Just like pile 1, please make sure to use protection if there's any possibility of a pregnancy. I think that there will be a lot of foreplay and you'll be having at least one or two orgasms before penetration (also if your person is a man I think that they're bigger than average). Your person really wants you to feel good. I don't see you having multiple rounds because I think that you're going to be exhausted pile 2. Maybe the next day, though. Afterwards you're just going to cuddle with your person and have some aftercare. And, also let me tell you that you person is amazing with aftercare they're just so loving and gentle, not wanting you to move a finger and making sure that you're completely taken care of. They may bring you some food and drinks and then tell you to take a nap.
I think that you'll be a bit transformed by this first time. It might be a bit different for everyone and that's why I can't really see how. But it will change the way you view yourself, your sexuality and even your person. I think that it will help you to bond even more with your person.
Pile 3
Lovers, Ten of Pentacles, Temperance, Queen of Pentacles | Self-worship
"My hands fold as I speak to the stars, watching as the sky holds its breath. It's in stillness that I find all that I am and all of divinity within me."
Pile 3, this is probably the most romantic pile here and honestly that's saying something because they've all been super sweet. But this is 100% old-fashioned romance. I can actually see it very clearly that you're going out with your person, maybe out to dinner at a fancy or fancier place and then going either to a hotel or to one of your places to continue the night. This is the only pile that I see going to a hotel actually. But, your person will give you flowers, I think that it will be red roses for most of you (a classic of course), but for others it will be a bit more personalized, like let's say that you love tulips then that's what your person will get you. I actually just heard that your person wants to wine you and dine you and in more than one way lmao. They're funny.
For this pile I think that you have been dating this person for a while, but you're taking things slow. I just get the feeling that you two really love each other - deeply - and you know each other well. This doesn't feel like something that would happen after two or three dates. You might actually know this person before you start dating too. Anyway, as I was saying this is old-fashioned romance. I see candles and rose petals on the bed. Some of you might actually start by taking a bath together or giving a massage to one another. I just see it being very sensual, but calm. You're not rushing here, you both clearly want this, but you know that you have time and it feels so much better to draw it out like this. You're like the third pile where I have to say this, but use protection if you can pregnant! Y'all are very fertile.
I think that you're going to start with oral, and for some of you there's even 69ing here. I'm also seeing lots of fluids here. Like, even your bodies are wet with sweat or from your bath or massage. But this feels very wet, let's put it like that. With the Lovers and Temperance here this is such more than sex for you guys. It's truly like two people becoming one, body and soul. I don't see you two talking much, it's like you don't need to, the connection between you two is so powerful and so deep it's almost magical. There's lots of hand-holding, gazing into each others eyes, holding each other close. It's so, so sweet. I think that you might tear up from emotion, from how much you love them. When it comes to positions I see you guys sitting, cowgirl and missionary. But, basically, it will be whatever can give you as much closeness as possible. I also see you person holding your face, like cradling your head and running their hands through your hair.
Honestly, this will be transcendental for you guys, you might even get like an out of body experience when you orgasm. It will be very very intense. I see some of you describing it as almost being a religious experience. I see that some of you will be squirting for the first time, so that might also be intense. This is just for a few of you I think, but you might have sex in front of a mirror or they might start it by touching you in front of a mirror. Almost being like "do you see how beautiful you are?", etc, that sort of thing. The aftercare will also be very sweet, and I see you being so in love with each other afterwards. Just talking and holding each other until you fall asleep.
Pile 4
Two of Swords, Knight of Pentacles, Four of Wands rx, Three of Wands | The lovers
"Love lulls all sorrow and bewitches flesh, mind and breath, reminding me that I am unafraid of the unfurling winds of my eternity."
Pile 4, this is the most negative pile out of them all. I'm really sorry for that. I would much prefer that they were all amazing and without any problems. I don't think that it's anything serious, but it will vary from person to person. Most of all, what I feel in this pile is anxiety and almost not feeling comfortable in your body. I think that some people here have sexual trauma, relationship trauma, or even body trauma. There might even have some eating disorders in this pile. No matter what it is and no matter the seriousness of the situation, it has left you uncomfortable with your body and with sex. So, I feel like most of you are going into this with a lot of anxiety. It's almost like you want this but you don't at the same time. I'm getting a very specific message that it's only meant for a couple of you: you might have sex with a stranger or hook-up with someone (basically something you wouldn't normally do) just to prove to yourself that you can. It's almost like you're trying to do exposure therapy to yourself. Now, I'm not saying if it's right or wrong, it's not my place to judge really, but just be careful.
For most of you though, this is happening with a partner. I think that you're going to be a bit unsure at the beginning, you want to want it, but you're not really there yet. Your partner is going to be incredible here, because they're going to move really slowly to get you as comfortable as possible and stopping to see if you're alright. I see them showering you with affection and basically praising you to the heavens. They're going to be super careful with touching you, up to a point where it almost annoys you and then you start to become more active let's say. I think that you're going to take charge of the situation at a certain point and guide your partner on how you need it. And honestly I think that they're very much into it.
Throughout the whole thing you're a bit self-conscious. I think that you might be suffering from low self-esteem and you're not entirely comfortable with your body and how you look. This might mean that you have sex basically in the dark, with very little light to make you comfortable. I don't think that this is happening in your house, so that adds a little bit to your anxiety, because you're in an unfamiliar place. I can't get much more information about it, it's almost like your person is trying to protect you and your privacy which is really sweet.
However, I see that you will be left very satisfied at the end lol. Not only that though, you will be feeling much more confident in yourself and your sexuality. I'm seeing you feeling so sexy at the end. It's probably because of your partner too. They'll be like "do you see what you did to me?" and completely disheveled, and you'll be like "oh shit". This will be a turning point for you. I'm really happy for you, pile 4! When it comes to your relationship it will also be taking it to the next level, not just intimacy-wise, but also in the trust that you have in each other.
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hyunubear · 1 year
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mmmhh i just LOVE the taste of NOTHING
#Were the stylists who dressed them for MMA not available or did they have a zero budget situation?#bc those hideous techwear were from gambler era sprayed with glitter and added random belts and body chains from idk Jealousy?#don't even get me started on the colors. or well. lack there of.#were they performing at a funeral?#black and white with silver jewlry? did they WANT the boys to be invisible?#also. i don't have anything against Gambler but she had no reason to be the main song#literally why did they not do Love instead?#it made so much more sense...#this one is a personal opinion (i mean all of this is my PO but) there IS something as too much electric guitar#that was just extra and it didn't add anything to the song bc it was THE WHOLE SONG#i also didn't like the begining. they started rush hour at the weirdest part...#idk what its called but its like the highlight of the song but the song BUILDS UP to it so it feels good to reach it#starting with it however just felt weird. it was out of place#i just cant get over how bad their fits were... its like their stylist wasn't available and someone tried to replicate their work#it looks like a bad/cheap copy of their usual style#like how can they have mx look so good for MMA and then mess gayo so bad?#those belts and garters were thrown over those hideous techwear RANDOMLY. it all felt terribly out of place#even tho they had a huge issue with sound in MMA the overall performance was so much better...#also just to be clear i don't think any of this is mx's fault#they have a comeback to prepare for in a little over a week and as far as their performance on stage goes they did great#but whoever planned everything else needs to fired bc that shit was boring at best
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atlabeth · 4 months
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geyser
series masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader
summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.
a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song
wc: 6.5k
warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs
also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on
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Percy thought that his head might explode. 
He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 
At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.
All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 
Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 
“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 
“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 
“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 
Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 
“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 
“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 
“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 
“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 
Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”
Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 
But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 
The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 
His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.
There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 
Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”
That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 
“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”
“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 
“She did.” 
He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 
“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 
“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 
Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 
Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 
“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”
Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”
“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”
Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 
“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”
An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 
Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 
He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 
Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 
…Gods. 
Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 
-
“Luke—” 
“No!” 
“Luke, please!” 
“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 
“She won’t know!” 
“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 
Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 
“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 
“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 
“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 
“If you say a single word—” 
“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 
“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.
“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 
“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 
“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 
Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 
“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”
“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 
“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 
“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 
To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 
“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 
“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 
Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 
You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”
And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 
Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 
Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 
Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.
But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 
Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.
You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 
Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 
“Never better.” 
-
“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 
Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 
“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 
Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 
He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 
He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 
Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 
He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 
“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  
Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 
He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 
“I’m curious,” he decided. 
Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…
Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 
“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 
“And how it killed the cat?” 
He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 
“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 
Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 
“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 
He nodded. “Yeah.” 
“Who’s her parent?” 
Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 
“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 
Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 
He had a sister? 
“I have a sister?” 
“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 
A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 
He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 
Gods. 
“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 
Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 
One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 
“How did you meet her?” 
“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”
Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 
“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 
Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 
Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  
“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 
“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  
Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 
“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 
The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 
Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 
Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 
-
Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 
He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 
“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 
“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 
Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 
“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 
“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 
Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 
“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  
Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 
“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 
Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  
Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 
He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 
“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 
“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 
Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 
Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 
He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 
Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 
Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.
“A happier part, then,” he suggested.
“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 
In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 
A letter. 
��We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 
Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 
So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 
To the one and only Luke Castellan, 
My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.
I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 
Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 
But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 
Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 
I can’t wait to see you again.
Your hurricane.  
It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 
Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 
“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 
Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 
“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 
“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”
Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 
I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 
“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”
Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 
He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 
Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 
“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 
Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 
“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 
He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”
“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”
Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 
“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 
-
After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 
Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 
Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 
“You’re awake,” she said. 
“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 
“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 
“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 
They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 
“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 
“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 
Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 
“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 
Annabeth went silent. 
“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 
“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  
“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 
“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 
Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 
“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 
That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 
“How did you meet her?” he asked. 
Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”
-
For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 
It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.
The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 
She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 
But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 
Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 
Where was Thalia? 
Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 
Thalia— 
“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 
“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 
Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 
“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 
Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?
You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 
“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 
“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 
“Annabeth!” 
Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 
“Luke, you’re hurt—” 
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 
“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 
Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 
When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 
“Luke?” you whispered. 
Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 
“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 
“My friends—” 
“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 
Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 
So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 
She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 
The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 
-
You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  
You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 
Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.
You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.
A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 
“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 
Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 
“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 
You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 
Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”
You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 
He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 
“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 
“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 
“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 
“You know what I mean.” 
Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 
“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 
“The usual,” you mumbled. 
“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 
You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 
“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 
“Bullseye.” 
“I’m sorry,” he said. 
You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 
“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 
“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 
Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 
“Yeah,” you murmured. 
You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 
That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 
“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 
He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 
“Just like old times,” you whispered. 
“Just like old times,” he agreed. 
Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 
There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 
How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 
Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 
“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 
And by the gods, you believed him. 
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