#thread. prudence

[haereticus]

𝐖𝐇𝐎: PRUDENCE WARREN & OPEN 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: THE CAPITOL, MISCELLANEOUS PARK 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍: EARLY MORNING

For FIVE YEARS, Prudence Warren had played the part of a perfect Capitolite. Since arriving from DISTRICT THIRTEEN, she had worn a meticulously constructed mask, kept her head down and blended in with the droves. For five years, Prue's life had not been her own – no, it had belonged to the rebellion. She had been playing a part, acting, since the moment she stepped out of the darkness of District 13 and first tasted fresh air. The outside world had been everything she'd ever dreamed of – more colour and life than she had thought possible, but it wasn't hers to enjoy. Not yet.

Last night had been a step in the right direction. The first true glimpse of freedom that Prue had had since going undercover. And, despite sticking to the shadows and working under the cover of night, it been first time Prue hadn't felt as though she were hiding in almost as long as she could remember. And, when their transmission had played for all those in power to hear – it started to feel like the last five years had been worth it. Like Prue's sacrifice had actually meant something. Like her parents' sacrifice had meant something, too.

Of course, nothing could ever be that simple. Not only had they lost one of their own last night and discovered a traitor in their midst, but the President had announced plans for the upcoming games – and suddenly the rebels' little stunt didn't seem quite so impactful. Prue had been in a daze since the previous evening – she'd barely slept and now wandered the streets of the Capitol like some sort of spectre, her thoughts clouded with fear and grief rather than the hope and defiance she'd expected to feel this morning.

She'd soon found herself in one of the gardens near the city centre. It had become a favourite place of hers over the last few years – a speck of greenery among the vast cityscape. At the early hour, her usual bench is pleasantly unoccupied – and it remains that way for quite some time before footsteps behind her alert Prue to the fact that she is no longer alone. Her head turns to the newcomer, and she offers them a wan smile. "There's plenty of room," She says, "I won't be here much longer."

[victoriams]

ᴡʜᴏ: PRUDENCE WARREN & NAZANIN NABAVI ( @reblrths ) ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: THE CAPITOL – CITY CENTRE ᴡʜᴇɴ: SIXTH DAY OF THE GAMES, IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE FIRES

DISTRICT THIRTEEN was many things, but forthcoming was not one of them. The task Prue had been assigned was simple enough – safe enough. Or, at least, this is what Prue had assumed. She'd been instructed to head to the city centre, to keep an eye out for peacekeepers, for Capitol reinforcements. Just simple intelligence gathering – apparently, there was going to be some sort of resistance activity happening later in the day. What, exactly, Prue didn't know – she didn't have the clearance for that kind of information. There had been the consideration to simply go by herself – but when Nazanin had offered to tag along, Prue had been quick to agree. Then again, she was quick to agree to most things that Naz suggested. Especially if it meant spending time alone together.

All had been going well – they'd been scouting the streets for peacekeepers, bantering, and Naz's shoulder had even brushed against Prue's own in a way that made her heart flutter. She'd noticed the hours quickly ticking away – the time that she'd been instructed to return and report back long since having passed. Ordinarily, Prue was a stickler for a deadline, but she had become quickly engrossed in some story that Nazanin was telling, which led to another, and another – and by the time she'd found the presence of mind to tear her eyes away from Naz's lips and to her watch, dawn had slipped into early morning. She'd muttered something about needing to get back – but, before they had the chance, the Capitol started to burn.

She won't ever remember much of what had happened next – she will remember grabbing Naz's hand and starting to run as the building beside them was suddenly engulfed in flames. She will remember the screams of frightened Capitolites as building after building caught fire, as the foundations began to collapse and smoke clouded the streets. She will remember choking on the smoke and dodging debris as more and more of the city centre became an uninhabitable inferno and flames licked at her exposed skin. She will remember seeing blue sky in the distance – and almost, almost making it to safety, before the building in front of their path to escape came crumbling down.

And then, she won't remember much of anything at all.

Consciousness returns slowly. The first thing that Prue becomes aware of is a painful pounding in her head. The second is a raw feeling in her throat, cotton in her lungs. The third is that she is in the dark – surrounded by debris on all sides and trapped by large slabs of concrete. The fourth is a dull throbbing over her arms and legs. She squints against the darkness to see that her skin is red and raw, and her left arm has started to blister painfully from where it was exposed to the flames. The fifth ( and, by far the most important ) is that she is not immediately sure where Nazanin is. They'd been together, hadn't they? Naz had only been here because Prue had dragged them along – and now she couldn't see them.

"Naz –" Prue starts, cutting off as she coughs violently. Her voice is hoarse, but she swallows thickly a few times before trying again. "Naz?" She calls out, louder this time, as tears sting against her eyes. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay. "Can you hear me?" It's impossible to miss the way that her voice cracks on the last syllable.

[victoriams]

She's not sure whether or not she believes the words – but, maybe because it's Danya who is saying them, Prue feels somewhat reassured. Although they're the same age, Danya has seemed infinitely older and wiser than Prue since the moment they first met – maybe that's why she looked towards Danya for guidance, for leadership. They all did. Maybe it was selfish to rely on one person to keep them altogether like that, but Prue couldn't stop herself from looking to Danya to tell her what to do next.

"Okay," Prue says, smiling. If everything does turn to shit, at least they'll be together when it happens. At least everything they'd done so far will have meant something. Or, at least, this is what she had to tell herself in order to keep going. "Nothing's changed." She repeats, more for her own sake than for Danya's. She glances down at her watch, noting the time. "Shit," She mutters, "I'm supposed to be getting the tributes out of their outfits. I'll check in tomorrow, okay? Be careful."

danya is hanging on by the tips of their fingers , all of the strength in their tiny body grasps their sanity , their will to keep moving forward . this stupid mistake , the error which could have cost alaric his life , prue her humanity . all of their covers shaking in the wind , she might as well have ripped the masks from their faces when plunging her knife into the peacekeeper , spilled snow's beautiful floors with their blood , black more than it was red ; that had surprised her .

they have to keep it together , looking at prue now , danya knows only to protect their friend . they would shield her from this entire rotten world if they could , tucked beneath their cloak where nothing of the capitol can touch her . " this is all for show , " they smile , nudging prue's shoulder gently with their own , certain that the end is near for them all , but living in this moment for as long as they can . " nothing's changed , " they confirm , nodding . " the plan is the plan . we're so close , prue . "

[atlasnolan]

closed for: @prupipers

where: out by the bleachers, night of the prom

"What'cha doing all the way out here, Flower Thief?" Atlas asks as he descends up the bleachers so he could sit on one that was in closer proximity than he would have been if he tried speaking to her from down near the field when he had first spotted her.

"Party's in there and it's lively."

[fixction]

for: @deviiates pairing: prudence + finn. setting: they're besties. finn got dumped. convinced prudence to film some stuff to make her jealous. it gets out of hand, because we're fucking degenerates.

"mm ... you just want me to touch your dick." prudence rolled her eyes affectionately as she gazed up at the man. the bottle of red wine she had put away by herself showed up as a fierce flush on her cheeks. there was this lack of focus in her gaze, this droop of her eyelids, that had her peeking up through long eyelashes. the original idea had been for her to just pose with finn's cock inches away from her face, enough to imply that something was going on. it tickled her mischievous nature for sure, especially since she never quite got along with the girl he was with for the past year. "i dunno, you might enjoy it too much ..." no way for her to hide the fact that she was curious though, not with the way her hand was already going for it. she stroked him clumsily, playing the part of a virgin trying her best, before she broke down into giggles. "sorry, sorry, of course i know how to give a handjob. been doing it myself for years," she cooed, shrugging her shoulders as her hand slid down to hold him at his base. marvelling at the size, prudence kept his heavy length in place with one hand while the other stroked his shaft, his tip. she gyrated her wrist as her palm grazed over his swollen head, squeezing gently with her other hand. "now is this enough? or do you think it'll be more convincing if i make you cum?" she asked sarcastically.

[victoriams]

When Prue had lost her parents, she'd figured that was it. They were the only family she'd ever known, and she didn't imagine she would ever have another shot at it. Sure, she'd figured that she must have relatives, somewhere. That maybe there were people her parents had left behind in District Twelve – but she knew that she would never have any way of tracking them down. That her parents were as good as ghosts, phantoms that only existed in her memory.

When Alma Coin had informed her, not only that she did have family out there, but that she had a living, breathing brother, Prue had thought it was a joke, too. She'd been hesitant about leaving her life behind, about diving headfirst into the rebellion and getting on a train to the Capitol, possibly to never return. There had been an awful, cynical moment where she had thought maybe it was a ruse to get her to go along with the plan. But Coin was nothing if not prepared – with birth records and blood tests, all of which proved inconsequential when Prue saw a picture of Alex. When she recognised his smile – recognised her father in their features. It had been like something out of a film – an instant recognition. She wonders if Alex feels that now, looking at her.

"He... our dad, um... he died, about ten years ago." She says quietly. Even though a decade has passed, the reality of her words still do not sting any less. Even now, they trigger a deep ache in her chest. "I don't... I don't know whether he knew about you." She likes to think that he didn't, that her father wasn't the kind of man to willingly leave behind his child. "But... I'm sure he would have wanted to know you, too. If he had the chance." Empty placations now – for Alex, who never had a chance to know their father. Instead, they are left with Prue, a sister as a consolation prize.

Prue cannot help but laugh as Alex does – an equally disjointed, broken noise. Born partly out of their half-hearted attempt at a joke, and partly out of sheer relief that, not only had Alex believed her, but they say they want to know her. That they're family. It warms up the place in Prue's chest that has long been reserved for grief. "Yeah," She chokes, "I guess I need to work on timing, huh?" She shakes her head, feeling some of the tension she'd been carrying for the last few days dissipate. "I, uh... I know it's unorthodox, but if there's anything you want to know – you know, about our dad, or me, or, like, anything... I, uh... I want to tell you."

it is more than difficult, it feels impossible. it feels like the wind-up to some last final joke that the universe is pulling--here is family, watch us take you away from them. but looking at prue, alex knows that she is telling the truth, they can read it in her eyes, in the tone of her voice. she's being honest.

and that is somehow so much worse.

it feels like the wind has been knocked out of him, taking any words he might have said right along with it. his mouth opens and closes several times, a short huff escaping him as a shaky hand runs through that mess of curls.

"y-you have nothing to apologize for..." they point out with a quiet, albeit dry laugh--but when they look at prue, their expression soften. eyes scan her features, looking for any sign of him in her, for that connection. it doesn't take long for him to see it in her eyes, her hair. he can't help but wonder if her father--their father--held these traits too. can't help but wonder what he was like, if he ever regretted alex...if he was alive, would he have accepted them?

answers he won't ever get and now a sister he might never get the chance to know. it still feels like a bad joke.

"...the timing on this really sucks, huh?" it's a bad attempt at humor, complete with a broken laugh as alex looks to prue, that brief smile not quite reaching their eyes. "want nothing to do with--you're joking, right? i'm just sorry that-" he exhales sharply, head shaking. "-i'm sorry that i don't have more time to get to know you before...well..." it isn't fair. "of course i want to know you. you're family."

[bookgeekgrrl]

My media this week (20-26 Apr 2025)

📚 STUFF I READ 📚

🥰 We Solve Murders (We Solve Murders #1) (Richard Osman, author; Nicola Walker, narrator) - I just really enjoy the characters Osman creates & the slighly madcap adventures they go on whilst trying to solve the puzzle. This one really reminded me (positively) of a Carl Hiaasen novel; it's that sort of vibe (except not so Floridian).

🥰 Coming Up Easy (musette22) - modern AU, pure domestic fluff, the author is cooking and it's exactly my kind of comfort food

🥰 Into The Dark (OutFoxing the Paranormal #3) (Jordan L. Hawk, author; Tristan James, narrator) - another satisfyingly spooky outing for our crew, this time at an abandoned asylum (so of course the true horror is the historical treatment of the mentally ill). This series is just…FUN - likeable characters and the right amount of spooky but never getting too dark (tho i suppose ymmv depending on triggers, etc)

💖💖 +180K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖

Take Your Time Coming Home (odetteandodile) - MCU: stucky, 13K - [reread] a kind of epistolary fic, prewar vibes

miles to go before i sleep (obsessivereader, author; alby_mangroves, artist) - MCU: shrinkyclinks AU, 34K - [reread] great story, great art. Love this Steve so, so much.

Dream blunt rotation (Sadstateofaffairs) - Stranger Things: steddie + heather, 11K - basically threesome pwp, hot

📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺

Ghosts (US) - s4, e19

Home Town - s9, e10

Doctor Odyssey - s1, e15

QI - series R, e11, 13-15; series S, e2-3, 8, 12-14

BLOOD ON THE CLOCKTOWER! | Good Time on the Clocktower | "Hemorrhaging Trust"

Blood on the Clocktower: Live! (Sam Reich, Ify Nwadiwe, Aabria Iyengar, Zach Kornfeld, Meredith Hackman)

BLOOD ON THE CLOCKTOWER! | Good Time on the Clocktower | "Saintly Virtue"

Um, Actually - s10, e

Doctor Who - s2 (series 15), e2

Ludwig - s1, e5-6

Game Changer - s7, e2

D20: Titan Takedown - "Hope And Heroism" (s25, e4)

D20: Adventuring Party - "Hotties And Hot Hearts" (s20, e4)

Leverage: Redemption - s3, e4

🎧 PODCASTS 🎧

Short History Of… - The Salem Witch Trials

Pop Culture Happy Hour - Recent TV Comedies You Don't Want To Miss

Heist - Ep. 3: The Transylvania University Book Heist

No One Saw It Coming - Marie Antoinette, mother of French fries?

Pop Culture Happy Hour - The Wedding Banquet

Dinner’s on Me - JOSHUA JACKSON

Mission Implausible - "Bad Astronomer" Phil Plait

⭐ 99% Invisible - One-Nil to the Arsenal

Vibe Check - Blessed Be the Hoes

⭐ Decoder Ring - How “Chicken Soup” Sold Its Soul

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - The Kolache Triangle

Pop Culture Happy Hour - Conclave

Mission Implausible - JFK Assassination Convert Phil Robinson

⭐ Imaginary Worlds - The Optimist Behind Blade Runner's Dystopia

Dear Prudence - We All Hate My Sister’s Husband. Help!

Pop Culture Happy Hour - Summer Guide And What's Making Us Happy

⭐ Endless Thread - Find Our Friends

It's Been a Minute - Think you have ADHD? Here's why so many of us are saying yes.

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Retracing Historic Journeys with Elise Wortley

Today, Explained - The most dangerous award

Hit Parade - The Bridge: Rihanna Is Still Unapologetic

⭐ Smart Podcast, Trashy Books - 664. Haunted Abbeys and Hidden History with Alexandra Vasti

🎶 MUSIC 🎶

Chappell Roan

Billy Idol

Dream Into It [Billy Idol] {2025}

Warrant radio

[sixtymillionoverdueideas]

"H-Hey, Kakuzu. I ma-- I got-- t-this is for you, hn!" Deidara extended a mug to Kakuzu. It was larger than a normal mug with a large handle, a little bumpy and haphazardly painted green. It was obviously handmade, but Deidara didn't tell him that. He didn't want Kakuzu to know he spent the last month learning how to bake and glaze just to make him a dumb mug. Why a mug, you may ask? Deidara had noticed normal mugs were too small for Kakuzu's hands. Kisame had the same issue and solved it by just buying a cheap vase to use--yes, a vase. But hey, it worked.

Sure, Deidara could've just bought one for Kakuzu, too, but the vase didn't have a handle, so holding it required both hands. He also noticed (he noticed a lot of things about Kakuzu) that Kakuzu liked having his coffee or tea while working. You couldn't do that if you needed both hands to drink. So, Deidara had the dumb brilliant idea of just making one. And in time for Valentine's, too! Which totally wasn't a coincidence cough cough.

After a dozen failed attempts and hogging the oven to bake the clay and then accidentally setting the oven on fire--the final product.

Kakuzu blinked, taking the mug into his hands. He handled the mug carefully, inspecting it from multiple angles - the homemade quality was apparent. Now, Kakuzu wasn't blind, nor ignorant; he knew that Deidara had been using the communal kitchen's oven quite heavily over the past weeks. It was... thoughtful of him to think of remedying a non-problem that he honestly hadn't paid mind to for a long, long time. It was of a sturdy build. Good. He made a mental note to see what he could make with the supplies on base, or maybe head out later that day to reacquisition some. Stepping forward, his hand descended--

To land on Deidara's head, ruffling his hair, half a headpat.

"Thank you, Deidara."

Later, the blonde would find a small box containing a miniature tea-and-chocolate cake, garnished with only a small amount of raspberry jam and singular blueberry on top. It was unsigned, but the tiny version of his Fire Mask was indicative enough as it looked up with soulful painted eyes.

[arch-slash]

no one has called her the prettiest, the most well dressed, the one with the most poise. mostly, prudence has been called improper, sometimes even downright rude, and men have claimed she isn't too hard on the eyes. none of that had ever mattered to prudence, though when she sees galinda, she can't deny that a slight bout of envy touches the innermost corners of her heart. perhaps a desire to be desirable has always been there, no matter how small. but it wasn't in the cards for her, and she didn't have any resentment to those who seemed to understand society and its inner workings better than herself. 'what a pretty dress,' prudence gives the compliment genuinely, glancing over the pink fabric that adorns galinda. 'i'm afraid i've never looked good in blush, but it is very much your color. i adore it,' @goodliness / random muse sc.

[victoriams]

There is a sense of relief that comes with Peeta accepting her offer of refuge, and she extends a hand to the victor as she leads him out of the crowded room. She is glad, selfishly, not to feel useless, even for a brief moment. It was beginning to seem that everything she had done in the last few days – hell, in the last few years, since she had first signed her life away to the rebellion – was amounting to nothing at all. The games had gone ahead as planned, and Prue was still left in the dark, without a word from District Thirteen about what was supposed to happen next. And if Prudence was frustrated, she could only imaging how the victors who had placed their trust in. the rebellion must feel.

"I am," She says, nodding as she answers Peeta's question. "Probably not for much longer if Caius has anything to say about it, though." She chuckles softly, though it sounds forced even to her own ears. They're away from prying eyes, now – she glances left and right to make sure that the room she has led Peeta to is deserted, the only signs of life coming from the television mantled in the corner, the games proving inescapable. Prue shakes her head emphatically as Peeta continues, "You've got nothing to apologise for," She says, "If anything, they should be apologising to you."

Maybe it's not fair, what she does next – but Prue has been eaten alive by guilt since the countdown had begun. Guilt that she couldn't stop the games. That her efforts weren't enough. That, now, Peeta's family was paying the price for the rebellion's shortcomings. "I'm sorry, too." She whispers – allowing the facade to slip, but only slightly, always careful of ears in the Capitol. "That this is happening, I mean – we tried, and I –" A pause, and she shakes her head again, "It wasn't supposed to go like this."

She chews her lip for a few moments, before resolving to snap out of her self-pitying stupor. "Do you... um, do you need anything? I can get water, or something, or I can just –" Another pause, "I don't suppose you want to talk about it with a relative stranger."

peeta knows better than to be making such a public scene. it was irresponsible - peeta has seen the repercussions of such firsthand. katniss and his' victory tour, four one -- loud bangs still make him jump from time to time. so many innocent lives lost because of them, and now perhaps one more - their son.

so when someone comes to calm him down - to save him really, peeta should be thankful. he's already caused more than one stir in the capitol, he's paid more than enough consequences for it, the last thing he needs is to continue that streak. he needs to be strong, to be there for his family - as much as he possibly can be. which, admittedly, was not much.

they look up to the girl - small in stature, looks like a timid thing, really. but peeta knows how deceiving looks can be, and this girl certainly is no capitolite. over the years, they've become too acquainted with them. that fact should sadden them, that they've had no choice but to become aware of who they speak to, but that's how you grow up in panem when you're on the outskirts of the country. "i have to keep watching," peeta says, gesturing to the tv. then again, there are TVs in every room of this building, making sure no one wasn't watching the games. so they nod, agreeing to follow her out of the room and somewhere quieter. "you're the stylist, right?" peeta asks quietly, once they're away from such prying eyes. "i shouldn't have done that. i've already made quite a mess." he laughs but there's no humor in it, self-deprecating as a sigh falls from his lips.

[victoriams]

ᴡʜᴏ: PRUDENCE WARREN & NAZANIN NABAVI ( @reblrths ) ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: UNDISCLOSED LOCATION, CAPITOL ᴡʜᴇɴ: DAY OF THE LAUNCH

As far as missions went, this one should be simple. Get into the meeting point, get the weapons, get them into the tower, and get out. Only four steps, simple. Of course, this didn't stop Prudence from fretting. Any number of things could go wrong along the way – they could be pulled up by peacekeepers in the city, the distractions in the tower could go awry, they could face difficulty moving the actual cargo – and so we find Prue pacing up and down as she waits for the remainder of their team to arrive, eyes flickering nervously between her watch, and the other companion of the room.

Nazanin, for her part, seems unperturbed – of course, Prue thought that she always looked like this, so effortlessly cool beside Prue's obsessive, neurotic nattering. She ignores the way her heart flutters at the knowledge that they're currently alone together – something which has been exceedingly difficult to achieve since they had embarked to the Capitol. She also ignores the way that the light reflecting off Naz's eyes give them a mesmerising golden hue. Because there is a task at hand – and these details are irrelevant.

"This'll work, right?" She asks – today was the culmination of everything they'd been working towards thus far. If it went sideways, the entire rebellion might be over before it ever had the chance to begin. "You think this'll work?"

[regencis]

why prudence feels relieved, as if frederick would deny her the opportunity of his company, she does not know. have they really fallen so far from each other's graces that pru believed they were no longer friends? at least that. so of course he would agree to escort her. no question to be had about the intention here. yet prudence found her mind wondering to opinions of obligation rather than wanting, even as she smiled and draped her arm under fred's own. behind them, her maid fixed the short train of pru's dress and began walking a few paces back, as their chaperone. prudence wanted nothing more than to have a moment alone with the man she had once known so well, but that was not proper for either a man or woman of society. there were too many rules, too many expectations. she wanted to laugh with him, again. she wanted to see his smile and have it only for herself, a selfish wish she refused to feel bad for as she walks beside frederick out into the courtyard.

his comment about drawing the gaze of others causes a light blush to cross her cheeks, though it blends well with the rouge already painted there. it is true that many have asked her to dance, have tried to understand what made prudence lockhart tick, but all of them did feel wrong. pru laughs a bit. 'perhaps my father was correct when he told me i was too particular. and much too stubborn - much like my mother, i've been told,' glancing out across the grounds, prudence takes in the moment, quietly enjoying the way her arm seemed to fit so perfectly around frederick's. sadness touches her features, for a moment, as she glances at him. 'you have nothing to apologize for, fred,' she should address him properly, but in this moment, they were best friends again, and she wanted him to know everything was going to be alright. 'you've experienced something no one should have the tragedy of experiencing. i do not fault you for forgetting to send a letter,'

the sun graces them, reflecting off of the sparkling lavender of her dress. she feels warm, but not simply due to the great star in the sky. 'what would you like to know? the gossip of the ton? perhaps what lady whistledown has written about the bridgertons lately? or would you be more inclined to know about my rather boring preparations for this season?' surly there were more interesting things to talk about, but she was more than willing to catch frederick up, should that really be what he wants. @frightes / cont.

[22ayla21]

Anaxa x Reader

The city lived its measured life, but in its alleys, squares and dark taverns something else was happening - a clash of two elements. She, like a wild lioness, challenged everything that limited freedom. He, Anaxagoras, found answers in logic and reason, leaving no room for chance. Their paths crossed, and from that moment the world around them seemed to change.

They did not look for each other, but invariably met - first by chance, then intentionally. She lived by instinct, throwing herself into reckless actions with a thirst to know the limits of her capabilities. Anaxagoras watched her, studying, analyzing, but instead of condemning her impetuosity, he found in her a source of inspiration. She was chaos, which he did not try to tame - he sought to understand it. The girl tested his patience, his convictions. She tested how far he could go without breaking, without changing himself. She laughed when he offered her prudence, and tested his will by tearing off the masks of those who preferred to live in comfortable illusions. Her energy raged like fire, but Anaxagoras did not retreat.

He watched her throw herself into street fights, how she was not afraid to be rude and direct, how she emerged from any situation as a winner. She had no fear of consequences, but she did have a fear of weakness. She did not tolerate uncertainty, and perhaps that was why his steadfastness attracted her more than she was willing to admit.

It all began as a game - a test of boundaries, a clash of mind and instinct. But over time, their fight turned into something more. Their worlds merged, and they both knew it. She felt that he was the only one who did not try to break her. Anaxagoras understood that her chaos complemented him, creating something whole.

Nights turned to days, their clashes became deeper. They did not try to change for the sake of the other, but somehow they became closer. She remained the flame, and he was the one who did not extinguish it, but supported it. Their game did not end. It continued, but no longer with winners or losers. Now it was not a fight, but a dance - a balance of power, where no one sought to dominate. Just the two of them, connected by an invisible thread, strong alone, but truly free only together.

Months passed, filled with meetings and partings, arguments and silences, tense glances and casual touches. Mutual attraction became something undeniable, as natural as breathing. They did not belong to each other, but at the same time no one else could come between them.

One evening, the girl watched him, leaning against a column. There was something new in her gaze - not a challenge, not insolence, but a quiet confidence. She no longer tried to destroy his logic, just as he no longer sought to drive her into the confines of reason. They accepted each other as they were. Anaxagoras looked up from the scroll and met her gaze. In that moment, it became clear to him that she had become a part of him, just as he was a part of her. Without changing either himself or her, he became the one to whom she trusted herself without fear. For the first time in her life, she did not feel the need to fight for the right to be herself.

The wind whispered through the alleys of the ancient city, carrying away the remnants of old arguments. Their game had reached a new stage. There were no more victories and defeats, there were only the two of them, two elements merging into one.

[victoriams]

"Yeah," Prue laughs quietly. She's not quite sure what she had been expecting when their squadron had been sent to the Capitol – but they'd been drip-fed information over the past few years, never quite knowing what was coming next. It unnerved her. Prue wasn't sure if it was because nobody, including Coin, knew what the next move would be at any given time – or if her squad had just not been deemed important enough to be trusted with such information. She wasn't sure which possibility she disliked more. On the one hand, this entire rebellion could be proceeding blindly. On the other, they could very well have been left out here like sitting ducks.

"They're not exactly big on the whole sharing is caring thing." She says – though maybe she was naive for hoping that the higher-ups would be. Prue nods – aside from the disaster at the tribute ball, things for the past few days had seemed alarmingly quiet. Like they were all just waiting for the other shoe to drop – a feeling she hated. "Everything's... quiet." She admits, "I hate just waiting around."

Eris hears a voice in her peripheral— one so quiet that it nearly goes undetected. This detail alone meant it could only belong to one person. PRUDENCE is a comforting sight in a room rife with chaos. The half truths of what they were meant to executing on behalf of their superiors were beginning to build up. Still, the visceral reaction to the executions meant something. They only wish they knew what was to follow, never one to be fond of surprises. “Hey, Prue.”

Part of her wishes she had answers if only to reassure her friend, but she doesn’t— only frustrating Eris further. “No idea. Guessing you know as much as me, right?” Which was essentially nothing. “Is everything else good otherwise?”

[victoriams]

ᴡʜᴏ: PRUDENCE WARREN & JAMESON HUTCH ( @reblrths ) ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: TRIBUTE TOWER, LAUNCH ROOM ᴡʜᴇɴ: MORNING OF THE (PROPER) LAUNCH

Prue hated this. If she'd thought that the build-up to the games was painful, then this morning had been absolutely excruciating. She's not sure what she'd been expecting – maybe part of her had been hoping that their stunt yesterday would be enough to delay the games indefinitely, or at least for a little longer than twenty-four hours. And yet, the morning had come, and the games with it all the same. As though nothing they had done yesterday had made any difference. She would be furious, if she weren't so despondent.

She had been fetched by a pair of peacekeepers early this morning, escorted to the location of the arena, and had been waiting in the launch room for her tributes to arrive ever since. Part of her had hoped they would never arrive ( well... maybe she wouldn't be so upset if Caius went into the arena ), and yet, after an hour or so, she hears the familiar click of a door opening behind her – and JEM HUTCH is sent through to meet her.

The peacekeepers at least have the decency to allow the tributes a few precious unsupervised moments before they are sent into the arena, and Prue makes the most of it, rushing over to greet Jem and stopping only a few feet short. "Jem, I –" She falters, the gravity of the situation finally, mercilessly, dawning on her. This might be goodbye. "I'm so sorry," She says, shaking her head. She'd dragged the victor into this rebellion, and it hadn't even been enough to save his life. "I – I really thought it would work."

[jburrgf]

Prudence Girl.

We could stay alone, you and me and this temptation, sipping on your lips hanging on by thread.

pairing: joe burrow lsu x reader (becoming enemies to lovers)

summary: after a year at LSU, your best friend finally convinces you apply to be a prudence girl.

description: college life, frat party, kiss

—————————————————————

It was a relief to be far from home. From Ohio in general.

Now, I have to put up with my best friend, Tracy Evans, rambling about the fraternity and sorority homecoming at LSU and how much she’d love to be part of Prudence.

Prudence, by the way, is a sorority mostly run by a clique of cheerleaders. They all live in a huge house, practically Republican HQ, where they throw parties almost every week.

I find it cosmic and weird that the name is also a condom brand. But hey, no judgments here.

“We have to go, y/n.” Tracy grabs my shoulders, shaking them. “We can’t miss this!”

“Freshmen can’t miss it, and we’re not freshmen,” I say, winking at her. “At least, not technically. I still feel like one, tho.”

Tracy rolls her green eyes. “That’s where you’re wrong, y/n. It’s not just freshmen who can’t skip out. Prudence pledges can’t either.”

“And why does that matter to us?” I ask, frowning.

“Because, my dear, if we pass tonight’s initiation, we’ll be Prudence pledges,” she says, winking as my jaw slowly drops. “I signed us both up.”

“You what?” I get up from my chair, furious. “If you want to be a Prudence Girl, Tracy, go ahead, but don’t drag me into it!”

Tracy rolls her eyes again. “Don’t be dramatic,” she says, stroking my cheek. “You don’t have to go through initiation if you don’t want to, or even join Prudence. I just want your company, you know, moral support and stuff.”

With her puppy-dog eyes on me, it was impossible to refuse. Sighing heavily, I nodded.

“You owe me, Tracy Evans!” I growl, grabbing my black jacket and throwing it over a white T-shirt that says, “Don’t look at my tits, perv” as I leave the room.

I walked across the dorm with a scowl on my face. Sure, it’s good to be away from home, but it’s not like Cincinatti is a paradise. It’s not even close.

“Hey, y/LN!” I turned my head to the left, where Alyssa Powell was calling me. “Love the shirt.”

I roll my eyes with a faint smile. “What’s up, Powell?”

Me and Alyssa knew each other from the hallways of LSU. She wasn't like a friend of mine, but she was cool to talk to.

“I need ya’ help, y/n,” she says, biting her lip. “You know I don’t get along with Abby Griffin, right?”

“I think the whole campus knows, after she grabbed the principal’s megaphone and announced she’d make your life hell.” Aly grins at the memory. “Go on.”

“I need a reason to stay in Prudence,” she continues. “And a great reason would be to mentor a pledge during initiation. And I saw your name on the list…”

Oh, no.

“Aly… Look, you’re awesome, smart, funny…extraordinary!” Aly smiles, blushing. “But no way.”

“Why not?” She pouts. Oh boy, here come the sad faces again.

“Because I have zero interest in being part of Prudence,” I reply, tucking a strand of curls behind her ear. “Mentor Tracy. She really wants to join you guys.”

Aly sighs. “She already has a mentor,” she says, her voice pleading. “Abby made sure every pledge had one before I could even consider it. I’m surprised you don’t have one yet.”

“Oh, that’s simple. I hate every Prudence Girl,” I say, shrugging. “Including you. But I hate you with love, you know?”

I watch Alyssa laugh, throwing her head back.

“Y/n, look, I wouldn’t be here begging if it wasn’t important,” she says, grabbing my hands. “My mom graduated as a Prudence Girl, so did my aunt, and my older sister. It’s a family thing, you know? I can’t screw it up just because the leader hates me for sleeping with Joe.”

“Wait, what?”

I had no idea about it. Fresh gossip, I guess?

Joe Burrow was the new sensation on campus for the last six months. He was QB1 from the LSU Tigers and didn't lose any games in the regular season — at least not until now. I didn't know that guy very well, and honestly, I like it that way. I'm not into jocks, especially the ones with massive egos.

“Yeah. She doesn’t like me because I hooked up with her boyfriend once, that’s all,” she says, shrugging. “Please, y/n…”

I stare into her brown eyes, at her wild curls and clothes far too bold for a university.

“Okay. On one condition,” I say, watching her smile grow wider and wider.

“Anything!”

“I want a room with Tracy, just the two of us. That, or no deal!” I cross my arms.

“Deal!”

[…]

When I return to my dorm, Tracy is there, jumping around to an ‘80s song, dressed in pink leggings, a black crop top, leg warmers, and a headband holding back her blonde hair. She looked ridiculous. Ridiculously beautiful.

“What the hell are you doing, Evans?” I ask, climbing the bunk bed ladder. If joining Prudence means having my own bed on the floor, it might be worth it.

“Aerobics,” she says, smiling. “I do it every day after class for two hours. It’s exhausting, but it works.”.

“You should try it.”

“No thanks. I prefer my soft butt,” I say sarcastically. “Oh, by the way, I’m doing the initiation and becoming a Prudence Girl.”

“What? Why?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be happy?” I frown.

“I am, of course I am,” she smiles. “But why? You were so set against it this morning.”

I sigh. “Alyssa Powell asked me,” I shrug. “If she’s not my mentor, Abby Griffin will kick her out of Prudence.”

.“Remind me to thank her later.”

I lay back on my pillow, thinking about what it would be like to share a house with dozens of girls. Rent is $100, slightly less than the dorm, but that’s not reason enough to join a sorority.

“How does this initiation work, anyway?” I ask.

“It’s really simple, almost childish,” she says, rolling her eyes. “The guys eat or drink something, then kiss us. If we guess what it was, we’re in.”

“Seriously? That’s it?”

“Almost childish, like I said,” she grins.

Then it hits me. “Wait! Guys? What guys?”

“What other guys, silly? Prudence Girls kiss Prudence Boys,” Tracy bites her lip. “I can’t wait to kiss one of them.”

I rub my face with both hands, already regretting agreeing to this mess.

“I bet you can’t.”

[…]

Prudence House was packed, full of students. Nobody cared that it was the initiation for the new Prudence pledges because it was one of the most anticipated parties of the year—alongside the Prudence fraternity’s homecoming, the Kappa farewell, and the random Acacia parties, all of them Republican houses.

Tracy made me wear one of her dresses, shorter and tighter than I had imagined. My best friend did my makeup and hair, not because I can’t get ready on my own, but because I take forever doing it.

In just an hour, I was perfectly ready, waiting for the campus lights to go out and the pink lights of the Prudence sorority, in the back street, to take over. The house was ridiculously large—after all, it housed almost thirty girls—with many rooms, many bathrooms, and a huge party hall. It was in this hall that I stopped to observe the beige walls.

“Stop looking at things like that, you look like a child,” Tracy murmured, elbowing me.

“Sorry, mom,” I teased, hiding a smile. “This place feels like a museum.”

Tracy didn’t respond, maybe because she agreed or maybe because Abby Griffin was making her way toward us, looking determined.

Abby Griffin was the type of girl with queen bee energy. And she really was, technically. For the past two years, she was the “Prudence Queen”. I never knew how we became friends — actually, I didn’t even have the idea that she knew who I was.

“Y/n y/ln, I presume,” she said, eyeing me with superiority. “Alyssa’s new recruit.”

“In the flesh,” I smiled at her.

“The initiation will start shortly, in the backyard. If you're late, you’re out.” I could see in her eyes she wanted to add "along with Alyssa," but she held back.

“We’ll be there.”

Tracy squeezed my hand and pulled me outside in a matter of seconds, making me roll my eyes dramatically.

When we arrived outside, a line of women stretched across the lawn, their nervous and anxious faces clearly marking them as potential pledges. Everything would depend on a stupid kiss from a guy.

Alyssa found me when I got to the end of the line; including Tracy and me, there were twelve of us, the maximum number allowed per semester. Aly smiled and held my hands.

“Your room is already reserved,” she whispered. Aly glanced around, checking the area before leaning in to whisper, “Coffee candy and mint gum.” To disguise her words, Aly gave me a quick peck. “See you later, Prudence Girl.”

I held back the urge to groan that "Prudence Girl" and "Prudence Boy" sounded like names for a girl group and boy band—and they also actively reminded me of condoms, of course. I could make that joke later, after surviving the initiation just because a fling had kindly asked me to.

Tracy watched us with a smile; a nod from her confirmed she had heard what Aly said.

I would call this cheating if I cared about this whole mess.

“Welcome, everyone—brothers, sisters, pledges, and nosy students,” Abby Griffin began, silencing the crowd. “Tonight, we’ll be welcoming our new sisters—those who, of course, pass the initiation.”

Tracy squeezed my hand. Sneaky little thing.

“The initiation is as follows: we have a dozen Prudence Boys here, but you won’t see them until after you've kissed them.” At that, each mentor handed their pledge a black blindfold and placed it over our eyes. “Each guy has tasted something different—maybe a strawberry, maybe whipped cream, maybe vodka... Your job, during the kiss, is to figure out what was in his mouth before he kissed you. Good luck.”

Apparently, a line of twelve boys stood in front of us, aligned like we were. But we wouldn’t be kissed all at once.

I had to endure the sounds of sloppy kisses for several long minutes, along with guesses of foods or drinks—all of them correct.

Tracy squeezed my hand one last time before letting go.

It was her turn.

More kissing sounds, longer than usual. I rolled my eyes beneath the blindfold.

“Coffee candy!” Tracy shouted, earning applause and cheers.

Now it was my turn.

I felt the approach of someone who smelled of cheap cologne and sweat, and I automatically grimaced. This was clearly Abby’s doing.

But before the guy could mess up my night, a voice stopped him.

“Step aside, Oliver.” The body heat from the boy faded as he stepped away, and someone else approached. This one smelled of Dior Savage and coconut shampoo, and I honestly like it more. “She deserves someone better.”

“And you’re that someone better, Burrow?” Oliver, I assumed, yelled.

There was no response. Instead, soft lips covered mine, kissing me gently, while a hand slid to my neck, holding me in place, at his mercy.

An overwhelming sense of déjà vu hit me.

But his mouth didn’t taste like mint gum. Oliver surely would have, but this intruder had interfered.

I didn’t know whether to thank him for sparing me from the sweaty guy or curse him for confusing my mind.

I was still being kissed. His lips pressed lovingly against mine, and at the end of that affectionate wildness, three soft pecks were left as his hand released my neck.

Oh, crap. Crap, crap, crap.

The once-noisy crowd had gone completely silent. Not a single person was saying anything.

Nothing. Not even a whisper.

I focused on the taste left in my mouth, where his tongue had roamed freely.

“What the hell was that, Burrow?” Abby yelled, probably storming toward us.

I didn’t dare remove my blindfold, afraid of what I’d see. Of who I’d see.

“You weren’t supposed to kiss her!” Abby continued.

Someone leaned toward me, and from the scent, it was him again.

“Do you have a boyfriend, darling?” he asked with the sweetest voice he could do it.

“No.”

“Then yes, I can kiss you.” I pressed my lips together as they argued.

“No, you can’t! You took Olly’s place!” Abby shouted back.

I cleared my throat, embarrassed.

“Chocolate,” I suddenly said, silencing them. “You ate chocolate before...”

A soft gasp escaped the boy, low and pleading, before his mouth claimed mine again.

Oh my God...

“Joseph Burrow!” Abby shrieked, furious, while the boy ignored her completely, more interested in caressing my lips with his own.

Damn, this feels so good!

A strand of my hair was tucked behind my ear as my lips were reluctantly released.

“Congratulations, Ohio girl. You’re a Prudence Girl now.”

I felt like I could faint at any moment, but I didn’t remove the blindfold, because I knew who I’d see if I did, and I wasn’t ready for that.