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purinfelix · 3 months

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is it casual now? ✶⋆.˚

pairing - joao felix x reader summary - after yet another night spent together in secrecy, you finally build up the courage to ask Joao and uncomfortable question warnings - some angst, possibly a toxic relationship? word count - 1k

a/n: just bc ive been listening to chappell roan NONSTOP lately and realised i hadn't written a full length fic in a hot minute !!! hope u guys enjoy <333

There were a lot of people who wanted to know what kind of relationship you and Joao had.

Of course, there were endless amounts of media outlets and gossip pages that seemed to have eyes following everywhere the two of you went. It got to the point where you knew any time you were with him publicly, it would only be a few hours before your timeline was inundated with sensationalised headlines or sneakily taken candids.

Then there were the avid fans who commented on these posts, dreaming up theories that never failed to surprise you - that you were a childhood friend, a secret lover reuniting with him, or worst of all, that you were a ‘wannabe-WAG’ attempting to use Joao for his money. Perhaps most annoyingly though were your friends, who pressed endlessly for details whenever you mentioned having met up with the footballer recently despite your protests.

Sometimes it felt like all eyes were on you and your relationship - but sitting here, in a plush white hotel bathrobe on an equally plush and white hotel bed - you couldn’t help but feel as though you were the one who wanted to know most of all. You let the hand holding your phone fall to your side, heart heavy after seeing yet another gossip page post about the outing the two of you had gone on earlier the day with a headline relaying the typical narrative that you were nothing more than a gold-digging fake.

“Don’t bother with those,” you hear a soft voice behind you, Joao making his way out of the hotel bathroom in a matching bathrobe. His hair is still dripping wet from the shower and you’re almost envious of the way his skin glows in the soft ambient light. “Those idiots don’t know anything,” his tone is adamant, and you’d almost think he was being genuine.

“Well, it’s not like you tell them anything,” you mumble, barely louder than a whisper but he still catches the attitude in your tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffs, tossing the small towel he was using to dry his hair to the ground without a care. Making his way to the other side of the bed, he lies chest-down, eyes fixed on you.

“All I’m saying is,” the regret in your voice at having brought up this tired conversation is evident but the almost daring expression on Joao’s face forces you on, “we can’t expect them not to make all these crazy theories when you’ve basically been keeping me a secret all this time.”

“Hey I thought we both agreed to keep this a secret, why is it all my fault all of a sudden?”

“It’s not, it’s just,” you sigh in frustration, eyes wandering the room - the crumpled bedsheets beneath you, your bag laying on the bedside table, contents half-spilled, your shirt laying where you had hastily thrown it - anywhere but his face.

“Just what?” he presses, and you bite your lip in a futile attempt to stop yourself from asking the question that’s been on your mind for as long as you’ve known him.

“What are we, Joao?” your gaze falls to your own lap, unable to look at the expression on his face as you’re sure it’ll only make his response sting more.

“Why are you asking me this now?” It’s clear this was the last thing he was expecting from the way he’s taken aback and slightly amused - which only frustrates you more.

“Why can’t I?”

“I mean, I thought we were just keeping this casual, you know? That’s what we agreed upon isn’t it?”

“Yeah, months ago.” You try to maintain your temper but you can’t help your voice from raising a little, “Don’t you think it’s time to reconsider that? I mean we’re a bit more than casual don’t you think? Casual doesn’t involve fancy hotel hook-ups or night time beach walks!”

“I don’t know, I mean,” his defensiveness irritates you, “You know what it’s like being a footballer, I just can’t have anything threatening my position right now. I need to focus on the game, a distraction is the last thing I need.”

“And what about me Joao? Don’t you think I’m tired of the constant slander I get every time we’re out together?” You feel your heart racing and your blood boiling, “You’ve seen the articles haven’t you?”

“Look, it’s late, I’m tired and really don’t feel like talking about this now. Can we just go to sleep? We’ll discuss this in the morning.” He doesn’t even wait for your reply before stretching out underneath the blankets with a loud fake-yawn. You just sit there slack jawed, not entirely surprised but still a little taken aback that he would just cut you off like that, in the middle of a conversation you had been rehearsing in your head for weeks like it was nothing.

You know he’s lying about discussing this in the morning but still, you reach over to turn off the lamp on your side table before slowly pulling the blanket over yourself - not like you have any other option. You make a point of turning your back to him and huffing though, too frustrated to fall asleep as your mind continues to whir with thoughts about all the things you’re going to say to him the minute you’re awake tomorrow.

That is, at least, until you feel the familiarly gentle touch of Joao’s hands around your waist, tugging you close to him until he’s able to fully envelope you in his arms. He kisses the back of your head - a slow, sleepy, almost genuine apology. You can’t do anything other than let out a soft sigh, closing your eyes and letting yourself get lost in the comfort you’ve learnt to find in his touch, in his scent, and his presence - no matter how fleeting it may be.

Because even if you wake up tomorrow to an empty bed, no sign of him even having been here at all other than a heavy heart, and no one else in the world knows what sort of relationship the two of you have - at least you’ll have moments like these to yourself to savour.

#joao felix #joão félix #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix oneshot #joao felix fic #fanfic #football #oneshot #fc barça #fc barcelona #purinfelix #angst fic #jet writes ★

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bagopucks · 1 year

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J. Hughes - Blackouts

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Reader

Requested✨ (as a comment in a previous post)

@lolihaveaproblem

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning(s): None!

Not proofread!

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“This is so stupid!”

“Well if you hadn’t blown all your money, you wouldn’t be losing this bad.”

“Jack, you idiot.”

“I don’t wanna play this any more. You guys cheated.”

It’s all Ive heard all evening. When the boys at the lake house asked me to oversee monopoly, I did not think it would be this hectic. Or heated. It was Monopoly.

To be fair though, I did learn quite a bit about the Hughes and their friends.

Quinn was silently competitive, and I had definitely seen him slipping Luke some money here and there under the coffee table. I only let it slide because I was rooting for the youngest brother. I learned Cole was incredibly good with his money. Maybe a little stingy, but he was definitely a saver. Trevor didn’t give two shits. He was playing just for the hell of it, spending here and there and everywhere, but still managing to stay out of debt or bankruptcy, and Luke just seemed to have a natural knack for the game.

My beloved Jack was trying to do Trevor’s method, but luck was not on his side. He was owing people money he did not have. He was all over the place. He was a financial nightmare. I kept it in mind in case of the day you both get married. Any conjoined bank accounts would certainly have a pin or password he would not know.

“It’s a little late to quit now. Might as well stay in.” Quinn tried to reason.

“With my one property? Hell no.” Jack quickly stood up from the floor. I was not the only person who winced at the crack in his back. “Trevor can have it.”

Trevor, who somehow seemed to be the richest and luckiest.

“Oh fuck yes!” I giggled at Trevor’s excitement.

I would say I had more fun overseeing monopoly than Risk. When the boys decided to play that, I had to take headache medication due to all the yelling. They took that strategy game quite seriously. Again, except for Trevor. Who had a weird obsession with Australia, and overpopulated it with his troops.. and somehow ended up winning the game after two days of on and off playing.

There had been a lot of F-bombs there. A lot of negotiations. A lot of snack breaks. The second time it was brought out to play, halfway through day three, one of the boys got so tense they flipped the board.

The NATO of hockey players did not enjoy that.

Sometimes I played board games with them, but other times I really did enjoy watching them bicker and argue.

Throw Throw Burrito was another I enjoyed to watch. From a safe distance. Considering the main concept of the game was to throw foam burritos at one another. Some of the welts those boys left the table with amazed me. But I hadn’t laughed harder than the time Trevor got hit in between the legs. The speed with which everybody scattered, was highly amusing.

They didn’t play board games often at the lake house, but seeing as we were in the midst of a three hour power outage, and phones were on their last percentages, everybody was desperately looking for something to do.

“Babe, come on.” Jack mumbled, ever the sore loser. I looked up at him from the couch, his face illuminated by the many candles we had burning. Fucking scented candles that had the house smelling like too many things at once.

“I don’t know, Jack. Last time I left a board game unmonitored the whole thing was flipped.” I commented. I knew what I was doing, and as soon as the words left my mouth, the uprising of displeasure from that memory came in the form of new arguments and accusations about who it was that had flipped their poor game of Risk. Jack chuckled softly. I swiftly climbed over the arm of the couch, seeing as boys were sitting at the foot of it all gathered about the coffee table.

“They’re never gonna get over that.” Jack mumbled as he grabbed my hand. I was swift to snatch up one of the candles before he led me down the hall to his room.

“Not my problem. I still have my money on Cole.” I whispered in response. We both snickered softly, and I winced at the sound of another outburst. Trevor yelling about money missing. Looks like they caught Quinn and all his laundering.

“So, Rowdy,” I began with a playful smile as we wandered down the hall. “What’s on the agenda for tonight?”

“I don’t know. There’s gotta be something in this house to do.” Jack shrugged. I smiled at his cluelessness.

Once we got back into his room, I pushed the door shut behind myself. I opened his blinds and watched the rain pelt the windows, gently biting my bottom lip. Jack swiftly snuck up behind me, wrapping his arms around my body.

“Watch out baby,” I whispered, holding the candle out.

“Sorry.” Jack’s mumbled apology made me smile.

“Come on, Jack-O.” I tried to make my way to his tall dresser, but seeing as he wasn’t letting go, we both waddled our way over together. I set the candle down on top of the safe area, slowly turning in his arms to get a good look at Jack’s face.

“You think my mom and dad are okay?” His question caught me off guard.

“I have a strong feeling they’re more than fine.” I assured him, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “Probably having a more peaceful night than we are.” I added playfully, just in time to hear another shout and a loud bang. I winced. Somebody was beating the table now.

As much as I claimed to hate the noise, the silence in the lake house was often worse than that. Especially in the evenings. I got so used to the noise that the silence began to feel eerie. Like something was incredibly wrong.

“Can’t do movies, not enough phone power to play games. Not enough light to read.” I mumbled thoughtfully. “I have hair dye in the bathroom.”

Jack seemed to really consider the idea before shaking his head.

“Okay. Makeovers?”

He shrugged.

“Wanna watch me try on lingerie?” He lit up like a kid on Christmas. It was a cruel joke, but alas, I had no lingerie to try on, and I was not going to resort to seduction at a time like this. Not when something could go worse with the weather. The last thing I wanted to do was be huddled up in the basement with my boyfriend and his brothers and friends, in a less than appropriate outfit.

“Sorry for the false hope,” I apologized with a smile. Jack groaned.

“I’ll play mini sticks with you.” I finally offered, and Jack shrugged before deciding that was good enough.

“I’ll go get ‘em.” He was out of his room and back within a minute, two tiny little plastic nets in hand, a ball, and two sticks. I giggled softly. Even in the off season, we couldn’t escape hockey.

By the foot of his bed, Jack set up one net on one side of the room, and a net on the other. We quickly got situated on the floor before Jack slid a stick in my direction. I felt incredibly silly, but anything to pass the time at this point.

“You know the rules?” He asked, and I nodded.

“Same as normal hockey.” I checked. Jack smiled at me before he tossed the foam ball in my direction.

“Loser has to eat the melted nasty ice cream on the counter.” Jack made the condition. I grimaced. How disgusting. But once I agreed, we faced off, and our game began.

I could not say I was surprised near the end of the game, when we took an ‘intermission’ and I found I had holes in my leggings. Jack and I had played quite an aggressive game of knee hockey. Despite the fact that he tried to enforce penalties, he quickly gave up when I reasoned that he couldn’t be in charge of them. Especially when he kept grabbing the back of my shirt to keep me from getting too close to his goal.

The Hughes brothers were always cheating to win in some kind of minor game.

We’d laughed and yelled, pushed each other over and played with no mercy. But it was 9-9, and I seriously did not want to eat the warm ice cream. I figured if Jack had cheated, then I could play dirty too. So when I had the foam ball in my own possession, I rushed Jack, who was trying to play defense in the middle of the floor.

We made eye contact at the last second when I moved my stick into both hands -acting as though I planned to cross check him- and pressed my weight against his chest, shoving him onto the floor and effectively pinning him down.

Jack broke into a fit of laughter as I climbed on top of him.

“That’s a penalty,” he tried. I laughed and shook my head.

“Your mom is.”

I was swift to tap the puck into his net with my stick.

“And I win.” Jack was still laughing at the ‘your mom’ joke when he actually registered his loss. The poor brunette craned his neck to see the goal, his expression dropping with realization.

“What? You cheated!”

I leaned forward while he was busy complaining.

“You’ve been cheating since we started this game. I’d just accept my loss and get ready to eat shitty ice cream, Hughes.” I was quick to kiss him before I stood up, dropping my stick on his chest for effect.

“I want a rematch!”

“Can’t, Jacky. I’m retired.” I’d certainly give him hell about this moment for the rest of our lives.

“Bullshit. One more game.” Jack finally sat up, staring up at me as he held my stick out.

“I can’t, buddy. Not pulling a Tom Brady. I’m retired, end of story.”

“This sucks.”

“Aww it’s okay. How’s about you just come to bed and we can cuddle for a bit instead of the ice cream.” Jack eyed me cautiously, seemingly trying to decide if it was another joke or not.

“I’m not making you eat warm ice cream, Jack.” My tone took on a much more serious sound before I held my hands out to him. “Just come lay with me.” He let me help him get up from the floor, dropping his own stick and nodding.

“Can’t believe you thought I was cruel enough to make you eat that,” I teased.

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #trevor zegras #quinn hughes #luke hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #hughes brothers #cole caufield

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localcuttlefish · 4 months

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A Theoretical Lore Bible of Caesar’s Legion as a Nation

Hello good citizens of Tumblr! I’ve been on a Fallout: New Vegas kick lately, and I recently graduated college with a bachelors degree (major illustration, minor history of art and western civilization). So now that I’m certified to draw dick AND talk about Ancient Rome, I have things to yap about.

Have you ever looked at Caesar’s Legion and wondered how the more intricate aspects of their society model after the Roman Empire? Because I have! And because of those very musings, I have come up with a little dumb idiot theoretical lore Bible on how The Legion might function as a more developed nation, using my back knowledge of western civ and Roman art and culture. Nomenclature, societal structure, industries, imports and exports, the whole nine yards!

DISCLAIMERS: I have not looked through the writers’/directors’ social media accounts thoroughly enough yet to confirm if any of the information I’m bringing to the table is already solidly canonical or solidly non-canonical in the lore of Fallout: New Vegas. There is a nonzero chance I may say something that someone in charge has already said, or something that’s already been disproven or denied. If you catch something I don’t, let me know! I like worldbuilding for fun like this, and I want to keep everything as lore-cohesive as possible to challenge myself. I’ll come back to edit this every now and then if I come up with more cohesive lore pieces, or if you guys have any suggestions that would tie in the lore better. In addition, Caesar’s Legion is an inherently totalitarian nation that supports itself on some pretty sexist and bigoted social structures. There is no universe in which I support, condone, or otherwise encourage any of the ideologies of Caesar’s Legion in real life. Don’t become a tyrant dictator of a military slave nation, kids!

CONTENT WARNINGS: Discussion of slavery, sexism, physical and verbal violence, unsafe medical practices, brainwashing/psychological abuse, and death.

Without further ado, the absolute wall of text that is the theoretical lore Bible of Caesar’s Legion. Enjoyyyyy!!

CHAPTERS:

I: Citizenship

- How To Become a Citizen

- Social Castes

- Names

II: Everyday Life

- Common Social Customs

- Household Structure

- Settlement/Town Structure

- Clothing, Hair, and Accessories

- Languages

III: Industry

- Jobs

- Imports and Exports

IV: Politics, Education, and Religion

- What Senate?

- In The Unlikely Event of a Transfer of Power

- Common Political Beliefs

- Male vs Female Education Standards

Walk and talk with me about the ways The Legion mirrors, juxtaposes, and takes inspiration from Ancient Roman society in a post-apocalyptic setting.

The first time I encountered Caesar’s Legion in game, my initial thought was “What about the American West makes these people think this is the perfect spot to reinvent Italy?” it’s a barren, land-locked desert with only one or two significant water access points. Italy is a peninsula in a temperate climate with high mountain ranges and verdant forests. Most of this was a jokey thought, but then it struck me that a phalanx would actually be an insanely powerful force in a flat landscape. It all started coming together from there in a most dreadful shape

I: Citizenship

- How to Become a Citizen

Caesar’s Legion is a colonialist nation. They gain land through conquest, typically, and have a tendency to try and homogenize the culture to their liking. Generally speaking, after a town has been conquered, people who willingly surrender or submit to The Legion are given an opportunity for citizenship. Any survivors of conquest that aren’t willing to surrender are either executed or sold into slavery. Slaves are not considered citizens, because the rights and freedoms of a slave do not reflect the rights and freedoms that The Legion offers to those who can be put to better use or are complacent with the mission of The Legion.

Once one is offered a chance for citizenship, the highest ranking general in whatever battalion just took over that person’s land will evaluate if the person can be put to work, put on the battlefield, or is generally useless. Remember, an offer isn’t a guarantee. There is a chance someone who is offered citizenship may be evaluated as useless and sold into slavery regardless of their complacency. Protesting the verdict typically increases the chance of spontaneously being executed, or, if one doesn’t like their proposed role of worker or soldier, being demoted from potential citizen to slave.

If the general regards one as fit to work or fit for the battlefield, these “half-citizens” (media populi for plural, and media persona for singular) will be assigned a new legal name after a record of all new media populi is sent from the general to the regional Vilicus (overseer ;) we’ll elaborate more on this in chapter II), and given the task of minimum 400 hours of what we would understand as “community service” before the Vilicus confirms their citizenship. This “community service” is called pentimento, or repentance. It’s a form of brainwashing in which The Legion is in a position to repeatedly reaffirm that the media persona has more value here helping The Legion than they ever did as a free settler in New Vegas before, and instills dynamics that empower and encourage violence against people of “lower status” (slaves and women, usually). Kinda like a Stanford Prison Experiment that’s purposely designed to cause power dynamics instead of accidentally stumbling to the conclusion. Pentimento may include anything from helping re-pave and clear trade routes in Legion territory, to catching runaway slaves. Each media persona is given a number of tasks to complete per month, and each failed task results in more hours being added onto the total pentimento before citizenship is granted. The number of initial hours of pentimento a media persona needs to do may vary depending on the whims of the Vilicus, how much they resisted Legion control in the past, how many tasks of pentimento they leave incomplete per month, and whether they are masculine or feminine presenting, but is never less than 400 to start. Most media populi end up with starting numbers in the 600s or 700s.

Once the pentimento hours are complete and approved by the Vilicus, the media persona becomes a citizen and is expected to continue the service to the growing empire through either the trade they work in, or through service in the army. However, there is a several-month-long window of time in which spies occasionally visit the new citizens’ homes to monitor them for suspicious activity. In this window of time, spies may be looking for signs that indicate the new citizen is an agent from a rival faction sent to infiltrate The Legion. Only high-ranking officials know about this window. One can lose their citizenship and be returned back to status of media persona if they show suspicious behavior during this time, or worse, be demoted from citizen to slave. In cases where there is undeniable evidence that a new citizen is an agent for a rival faction, the citizen is immediately put to death, and their citizenship is revoked (though revoking the citizenship of someone being put to death is a little redundant).

A baby born into a family of two Legion citizens is automatically also a citizen, and must be given a name in line with Legion naming conventions (which will be discussed next segment). A baby born into a family in which the mother is not a citizen and the father is a citizen will also be considered a citizen. A baby born into a family in which the mother is a citizen and the father is not a citizen will not be considered a citizen at birth. A baby born to a family of two media populi or two slaves will not be considered a citizen at birth.

A person who willingly enters Legion territory and requests citizenship will follow the same steps as how a person from a conquered land would be evaluated for citizenship.

- Social Castes

Social Castes in Caesar’s Legion are determined by how useful one is to the empire, and whether one is male or female. The more sexist aspects of the caste system stem from the fact that women in The Legion can’t serve in the military, and the military is a notably higher status than most other castes since Caesar’s Legion is a military state.

Of course, Caesar is the highest on the social pyramid, followed by his chosen officials (take Lanius for example), then chosen guards (praetorian guard). The military comes next, with the social hierarchy of the military following that which was established in the Roman Empire in the early establishment of Caligula’s reign. After that, religious officials (which act as pseudo-indoctrinators into The Legion, and therefore are pretty essential to brainwashing the next generation of Legionnaires). Then, the Vilici, the overseers of each region/settlement. Next, the average male citizen and then, the average female citizen. Media populi come next, and following that social caste is performers (which serve very little purpose in the eyes of Caesar and the goal of conquest), with male performers having marginally more respect among the populous than female performers. Second to last is slaves, once again with males being just a little more respected than females, but what does that matter when both are going to be abused by the upper castes anyways. At the very bottom of the social ladder is outsiders and criminals, which need to be broken before earning even a sliver of humanity in the eyes of The Legion.

Caesar > Chosen Officials > Chosen Guard > Military (with sub-hierarchy of Ancient Roman military) > Religious Officials > Vilici > Average Citizen > Media Populi > Performers > Slaves > Outsiders and Criminals

- Names

The average citizen in Legion territory wouldn’t need to immediately use their new assigned name (since there’s not enough force immediately available to actually push that, the nation is still growing), but The Legion will give them a “legal” name that they’ll be addressed by formally, and in the best case scenario, the original name will be effectively waned out because it simply doesn’t matter in comparison to the new one.

A praenomen acts effectively as a first name one uses around close friends and family, while a nomen (while acting as a last name) becomes what one is more commonly known by in public. The average citizen will usually have a nomen at least, and a male citizen will have a praenomen and nomen.

- MASCULINE: A classical Latin praenomen will be assigned equivalent to the meaning or phonetics of the new citizen’s first name. The nomen will be determined based on either phonetic/meaning equivalent of the last name, or based on the new citizen’s occupation.

- FEMININE: No praenomen will be assigned. The citizen’s title will be a feminized variation of their father’s nomen, differentiated in generation by number nomenclature (Major, Minor, Tertia, etc). If they have no father, they will assume the feminized nomen of a living male partner that is already a Legion citizen. If they have no living Legion family, they will be assigned the name “Romana” and likely be either sold into slavery or auctioned to a bachelor to gain a proper nomen.

For example: Marcus Gaius has two daughters. The eldest daughter is Gaia Major. The youngest daughter is Gaia Minor. Gaia Minor meets Decimus Junius, and they get married. Now Gaia Minor is named Junia. Gaia Major remains unchanged.

Legion soldiers have more dignity in society, and therefore have all the previous conventions, plus a cognomen. Since all Legion soldiers are masculine, differentiation between masc and fem naming conventions is irrelevant from this point forward. The nomen of a soldier may be akin to the structure of how an average citizen’s would be given, or if the soldier shows exceptional prestige and has no remaining male family, a nomen referencing warfare or combat will be assigned to them (Marcus, Augustus, Drusus, etc.).

A Legion cognomen acts effectively as a Roman military callsign. Cognomens follow classical Roman conventions. The cognomen will be used most frequently in a military setting.

II: Everyday Life

- Common Social Customs

Many Roman social customs are adopted into Legion life. For example, the entertainment at the colosseum is mimicked in the tourneys in the various arenas scattered throughout Legion territory. However, because of the key difference in that The Legion isn’t even pretending not to be a totalitarian dictatorship, there are a number of drastic differences between Roman social customs and Legion social customs.

Because of how respected the military is in Legion society, it is commonplace to show soldiers with utmost reverence. It’s customary to allow soldiers to stay in a citizen’s place of residence if the soldier requests it, and it’s customary to refer to the soldier by their military rank, not their nomen or cognomen (especially if the soldier in question is on duty). It’s considered rude or inappropriate to question the motives of a soldier, or prevent a soldier from accessing areas of a citizen’s property. Such transgressions can potentially be met with violence.

One may frequently see slaves struggling to keep up with workloads. It’s taboo, but not punishable to help them, as long as it doesn’t interfere with the productivity of one’s own work. After all, The Legion gains nothing from incomplete work. If helping a slave means increasing efficiency, then it’s appropriate, but a citizen may get strange looks from others for doing so.

Utilitarianism is the ideal philosophy under which everyone should function in an ideal Legion society, but this is clearly not the case nor the environment to foster it. Social norms are based strongly on class, and in most cases, selfishness prevails because selflessness can be seen as weak (or worse, suspicious) by trigger-happy soldiers and spies.

But hey, at least sex isn’t considered a super taboo topic or activity in Legion society. Got that much going for them. Granted, it’s seen more like a conquest, but at least it’s not seen as a sin. Woohoo? Lets go? Kinda? One step forward two steps back.

- Household Structure

A household in Legion territory for a citizen of average means will likely be similar to any other household in New Vegas (with the addition of slaves in wealthier households). Where things start to get confusing is the aforementioned situation of soldiers being allowed to invade households at will. Psychologically, these soldiers are deprived of a lot of comforts the average citizen may have. There is a decidedly nonzero chance that soldiers can show up like stray cats and keep coming back in the event that a citizen is interesting enough to them. Soldiers sometimes “claim” houses or small patches of territory they frequent as a substitute for the emotional interaction they lack. Humans are social creatures. The soldiers might not know why they want to keep coming back, but they do keep coming back. Parasocial.

Generally, a woman’s domain is the household in Legion territory. While the society is by no means matriarchal, it’s customary for a woman to maintain control over most happenings within a household. This often means a woman will need to interact with stray soldiers more frequently. Among female citizens in Legion territory, these soldiers are called catuli (singular catulus) for their presence and tendencies, though this is always in secret due to the harsh punishment of misrepresenting a soldier’s status to his face. A household can sometimes have up to three catuli claim it before fights start to break out among them about perceived territory.

It is expected for a couple in a household to have children. Cultivating multiple generations of soldiers is part of how The Legion grows most efficiently, because children are impressionable enough to instill Legion values without struggle. If a household does not have a child after several years of partnership, it is considered suspicious and the male of the partnership is encouraged to be unfaithful or open the relationship. While there are no consequences for not having children, there is intense pressure to do so.

- Settlement/Town Structure

As mentioned before, the equivalent of a mayor in each region is called a Vilicus, or an overseer. The Vilicus is responsible for tallying the census, assigning names to media populi, approving the pentimento of media populi, keeping track of production rates of resources from citizens, keeping a lookout for disease outbreak so a region can be quarantined if needed, and monitoring the citizens in each region for minor suspicious activity to report to those higher in status. Each town is also occupied by a heavy military presence, to intimidate citizens into productivity and complacency.

Most of the time, Legion towns are made of the previously conquered settlements now added to Legion territories. Building more houses is an avoidable expenditure if they just repurpose the structures already there with a few modifications. Despite the multiple depictions in-game of Caesar’s Legion showing little to no care about what damage they cause, it would make sense that the depictions in the gameplay are actually the outliers in the situation, since it’s far more efficient to leave the settlements intact and just gut and reconfigure the purpose.

There are also multitudes of mobile scout settlements, mostly made of fabric, tarp, and hide tents that can be easily condensed and moved in the event that the camp is compromised. In many cases, these camps are set up as a base to return to in order to stage an invasion of new territories. If possible, The Legion sets them up close to large landmasses like plateaus or mountains for additional cover in the event of an ambush. If that’s not available, The Legion makes settlements like this close to preexisting towns in order to make the wordless threat of “push us back, and innocents die”. Generally, very few citizens are taken on these excursions, but if the plan is to stay out longer, citizens who are medics may be involuntarily drafted into going with the scout team.

- Clothing, Hair, and Accessories

The Legion isn’t a necessarily materialistic society that allows a lot of room for personal expression. Since the goal is to create a homogenous society and culture, self expression through visual cues is often muted at best and absent at normal. Makeup, perfumes, and hair styling products are prohibited if they have any synthetic qualities or materials. In many cases, beauty products are exclusively reserved for performers, and even still, only natural pigments and materials would be permitted. Think the same pigments Ancient Egyptians would make for their makeup.

Protective updo hairstyles are common for long hair, both for practical purposes and for purposes of keeping hair out of reach and harder to pull. Efficiency is key, so in the event of a raid or a threat, everyone is expected to be able to hold their own to some extent. Part of that standard is remaining on guard, so keeping hair up while out of the house is customary.

In the military, hair is expected to be cut short, again, for efficiency. Any soldiers with long hair are expected to keep it in tight braids or cornrows to maintain the same level of efficiency. As long as it stays out of the face.

Most clothing is dull, salvaged from the wastelands. The only exception is clothing reserved for high ranking officials and Caesar, which is quite literally dyed in blood of enemies. Because blood fades to a blackish-red hue over time, high ranking officials will often appear to be wearing darker colors, when in actuality they’re wearing clothes that were soaked in blood as a symbol of power and debt paid to the gods (namely Mars).

Widows are permitted to wear part of their fallen husband’s bloodsoaked clothes through the mourning process, if The Legion can recover and identity the body. With this in mind, as soon as the widow finds a new husband, the bloodsoaked garment piece is burned.

Slaves are deprived of all aspects of individuality, given rags or scraps to wear and marked with red paint. A citizen may give finer clothes to a slave voluntarily, but those clothes must also be marked with red paint.

Jewelry, while rare, is often made of scrap metal salvaged and re-forged from battlefields or old weapons without any further use. Which is why jewelry is so rare. There is seldom ever an instance in which metal can’t become a weapon, so making jewelry is a waste of time and energy.

- Languages

Basically any language can be spoken in Legion territory as it stands, because as The Legion is currently, it doesn’t have enough power or force to totally instill a whole new language system. With that in mind, the groundwork is being laid for an eventual push to make Latin the official language of Caesar’s Legion. Between the commonly used Latin terminology to address people and the Roman theming of The Legion, it’s primed to eventually enforce Latin as the primary language. Highly educated citizens may be fluent in Latin, and most soldiers know commands and codes in Latin.

III: Industry

- Jobs

There are two types of jobs in The Legion, excluding military and slavery. One can either be a worker or a performer. Medics and nurses are highly valued, both on the battlefield and off, since chemical substances are prohibited in The Legion. Carpenters, metalworkers and blacksmiths, engineers, and tanners are some of the more important standard worker jobs, since all of them play directly into expanding the empire more efficiently, making more weapons and armor, or repurposing old material to make new. Tailors, glassworkers, weavers, technicians, and chemists are less valuable to The Legion to some extent because they either involve industries less geared towards conquest, or involve industries beyond the scope of what The Legion finds socially acceptable. Despite the amount of emphasis Roman polytheism puts on naturalistic sculpture, The Legion actually doesn’t find the arts very useful in the immediate future of the empire. What’s most important is conquest, not expression.

On the topic of the arts, performers were seen in a very poor light in The Legion, often oversexualized into objectification or framed as clowns. Most performance art is often seen as a waste of time or an avoidable expense, but it does keep soldier morale up since it gives them something to target that isn’t their fellow man. Being a performer in The Legion is marginally better than slavery, because one can at least have a house as a performer, but the physical and verbal abuse is often daily and unrelenting.

- Imports and Exports

The Legion is definitely not known for being friendly to neighboring factions, so any concept of import and export is often very loosely based in barter (namely, The Legion demanding tithe to barter for leaving a region alone, similar to how some mafias demand payment in exchange for protection from themselves). The Legion has a semi-steady stream of imports from their commonwealths which they pressure into helping them in trade for leaving their towns unburned and their people free from enslavement. However, this is decidedly not a permanent arrangement. This is a way to bide time to grow the nation a bit more before making moves on settlements and regions with more useful resources.

They export nothing unless it’s a strategic play. They pressure neighboring regions into paying them, even though they honestly don’t need it as much as they want the general population of other factions to think they do. Middle school bully nation.

IV: Politics, Education, and Religion

- What Senate?

The big difference between Rome and The Legion is that The Legion doesn’t try to pretend it’s not a dictatorship. There is no senate, there is no board of people to vote, no forum. The only voice that matters is Caesar’s, and it shows in every aspect of how the society is structured, from the strict rules on self expression, to the patriarchal hierarchy of Legion society. Ultimately, this makes the nation weaker, because in the event of Caesar’s death, it creates a power vacuum. No, I don’t think there’s a secret senate. No, I don’t think there is a solid backup plan. I think the closest thing there was to a senate was the two-man power-team that was Edward Sallow and Joshua Graham. We all know how well that worked out. And I think Caesar’s been running on fumes ever since that point, taking this as a sign to expand the nation faster before anyone sees him bleed. Hubristic in nature.

The closest thing there is to a senate are higher officials (such as Lanius) that Caesar hand-picked from Legion ranks to be his personal cabinet that all agrees with him. There is a distinct instability of power when recreating Rome without a senate, and there is the distinct air of trying to hide that open wound.

- In the Unlikely Event of a Transfer of Power

Let’s say, hypothetically, Caesar, the praetorian guard, and all his higher officials suddenly died. The role of Caesar would be up for grabs. In the event that there is no clear successor to Caesar, there is no real backup plan aside from an arena battle between the generals that could potentially succeed Caesar. A simple solution that will clearly show who can spill the most blood for Mars without hesitation or question.

With this in mind, there is one thing distinctly Roman about the potential of a transfer of power. There is always a nonzero chance that Caesar’s killer, be they foreigner or Legion, could become the next emperor. All that matters is who can devote themself to Mars in a way that would honor the fallen Caesar.

- Common Political Beliefs

Politics and religion go hand in hand for Caesar’s Legion because of the cultish way Caesar built the nation. The idea of Mars being the patron deity of The Legion instills a level of gratuitous and overzealous love of warfare among the people. Military expenditures are met with great support, and very little infrastructure on public service is supported as adamantly because of the instilled value of “we are all independent cogs working in a well oiled machine, we don’t need help”. Then again, it’s not like any other voice mattered anyways, since Caesar is the be all end all of political power.

There is a generally nationwide extremism when it comes to dealing with criminals, however. Criminal activity in The Legion is more often than not punished by torture and death, and nobody seems to really protest it to the degree that other factions do. As many of the travelers and traders in Fallout: New Vegas have said, the roads in Legion territories are incredibly safe. There is a level of patriotism in The Legion specifically regarding how safe their lands are, but in exchange, those lands also have an active military presence.

Conquest is also a pretty intrinsic pillar of Legion political beliefs, since the motivation to create a homogeneous society and usher in a new era of perceived piece may make some people accept the totalitarian power for what it is and hope it pans out right.

- Male vs Female Education Standards

Due to the intrinsic divide between male and female Legion citizens, the education of male and female Legion children is vastly different with the only exception being the uniform brainwashing. Male and female children are not only educated on different topics, they are also educated in different locations.

Similar to Spartan men, most male children (even including orphans from freshly raided towns) are give combat training just about as soon as they can hold a stick and swing it. The male children that show combat proficiency continue to become soldiers, and the male children who aren’t strong, but are intelligent are instead divided into training as either spies or medics, depending on the specifics of their skill sets. Male children who aren’t good at any of that end up becoming armigeri (singular armiger), the people who sharpen weapons and tend to the needs of more proficient soldiers. It’s a social tragedy to become what is essentially a pathetic sidekick to some far better soldier. Thankfully, since most of these children are trained from an incredibly young age to be strong, cunning, fast, and durable, very few people end up becoming armigeri. Generally speaking, no boy in The Legion goes without military training. The Legion can capture their blacksmiths and carpenters, there’s no need to train them in-house.

Female Legion children are not given formal education. They are expected to grow up to be housekeepers and produce the next generation of warlords. However, a family still has the liberty to educate a daughter at home with a tutor so long as it doesn’t interfere with the family’s productivity. Usually, female children are given medical teachings more oriented towards patching the injuries of their future husbands. However, girls aren’t left entirely defenseless. Girls are taught how to use ranged weapons and how to escape grapples in the event of an emergency. In addition, girls are given more of an education on finances and practical skills that tie into long-term survival, such as how to use every part of a killed animal for resources, how to patch clothes, and how to cultivate plants.

A Thank You And Some Concluding Comments

Hello hello to anyone who’s made it this far through my ludicrous ramblings! Thank you for reading! This is really just me throwing nonsense in the air and seeing what floats, and most of what I’ve written here will probably be subject to edits every now and then to keep building up what I’ve already put down.

Feel free to use this lore for any fan fictions, fan art, original characters, or whatever else! Please keep building on it!

I hope y’all enjoyed my insane chattering!

#fallout new vegas #fallout #fallout: new vegas #fallout: nv #fnv #fnv oc #caesar’s legion #fallout legion #the legion #fnv legion #edward sallow #joshua graham #vulpes inculta #legate lanius #legion #the things I write for fun

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stevie-petey · 4 months

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hi m i'm not sure if you've done this blurb before, and my bad if you have, but i was thinking of getting a steve pov from his very bad terrible horrible no good summer when bug pulled away from him?? just his general thoughts and feelings on the whole thing from when it was happening?? love u and everything u write!!

ive done this type of blurb before but ,,,, i loooove diving into steves pathetic lovesick thoughts about bug and that summer <3

enjoy !

"its your first day of senior year tomorrow," nancy sighs against steves chest as they sit in the back of steves car late at night. theyre parked in front of her house, still have a few minutes before her curfew, and she seems to be content in steves company.

"yeah, i guess it is." steve shifts uncomfortably in the seat. he doesnt like being reminded that hes soon to be a senior, soon to be eighteen with a future handed to him by his father.

steve doesnt like being reminded that soon he will graduate and you wont be by his side like he had come to hope youd be.

its not that he had come to fantasize about you attending his graduation ceremony, or even help guide him through the college admissions process, but steve had selfishly thought youd be next to him as he crossed this next stage of his life.

and now hes almost eighteen and he knows, sometime in the summer, he has missed your sixteenth birthday, and he hasnt spoken to you in two months.

"are you excited?" nancy asks, breaking the silence. she can feel the uncertainty that hangs above them, steve has voiced to her before how fearful he is of growing up. she thinks its why hes been so distant these last few months.

june had brought a lively, vivid version of steve that nancy had come to learn how to love, and yet july his vividness dimmed. she had asked him what was wrong, if she could help, but all nancy had gotten in response were books about journalism handed to her with a bittersweet smile.

nancy has been too afraid to ask about it ever since.

steve thinks for a moment, though he knows that he has nothing to look forward to if it means you wont be next to him to tease him and call him an idiot. if he cant have your eyes shine up at him to remind him that hes worth more than whatever his asshole father tells him he is. "i dont know."

its three words, but its a confession that burns steves lips.

it feels as if these last few months have been confessions being stripped from him. confessions of missing you, that you had become his best friend within those months at the bookstore, of fearing that he will never truly be able to find anyone like you, so accommodating and accepting of his everything.

nancy turns to face steve and brushes a piece of his hair behind his ear. "i'll be with you every day, you know."

"i know," steve grabs the hand that fixes his hair and kisses it. "and i love you for that."

i love you.

the words feel thick on his tongue and steve wonders if love is supposed to feel like hes drowning. he supposes its why his mom drinks when his dad is away.

"i love you too." nancys blush is beautiful underneath the moonlight, and steve remembers how pretty yours had been when the sun had hit your face just right one day in the bookstore.

he wonders when he'll stop missing you. when your name will no longer cause his breath to stutter and heart to pound. even while youre away from him, unbothered and unphased by what hes lost with you, steve can feel you surrounding him.

steve will never know what he had done wrong that day in bookstrordinary to cause you to pull away from him, but he knows that he will carry the vulnerability you placed within him forever.

so he walks nancy to her doorstep, kisses her goodnight, and drives home with the radio turned off. he lets his thoughts wander to you, as they always do, and he comes home to an empty house and an even emptier room devoid of the light you once brought into his life.

#procrastinationprincess #ask #m speaks #come home blurb #set in between seasons 1 and 2 #m's writing #angst babyyyyyyyy

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sanjisblackasswife · 2 years

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okay i want your opinion: how do you think would sanji know that he fell in love for real? and zoro? i think zoro wouldn't know until someone tell him

How Sanji & Zoro Know They Fell in Love

Edit: yeah this will be considered a drabble💀

Its pathetic how much ive thought about this

Im going to give a half assed answer because im half sleep rn while working

So first off I genuinely believe how he acted towards Viola is like the closest we ever got to how he’d probably act if he were in a relationship.

And i also I think Sanji would not fully acknowledge his stronger feeling to said person until he catches his change of demeanor. Because i think he knows in the back of his mind that he does has a DEEP LOVE for women, but he isnt IN love with any of them yk? He may have thought he was with a couple women (hell i can even add Nami possibly) but those feelings subsided when he found a new woman in his path.

I believe a fine example on how he’d probably truly fall in love w a woman would be having a deep late night conversation. Mind u him and said person would have been probably friends for a cool minute, they know each other by this point. And in this conversation there is No lustful gazes, no blood, just like raw one on one time. She’s maintaining eye contact, she is patient with him as he speaks, etcetc

I do also think it would be a new feeling for him and that girl would intimidate him in a way he is more cautious with his actions around her. And im not going to say Sanji will stop bleeding and go on to have his fits with other women no but i do think when he is around the girl it’s like a switch hits.

Basically the mf turns into Mr. Prince and its hot🧍🏾‍♀️

I also believe he would ask her out eventually but it would take some mental preparation and reassurance somehow that she feels the same feelings because he has been rejected by many women but this one he just couldnt bare.

Now as for Booty Hunter Zoro..

Denial.

Denial

Absolute denial

He does not want to believe it. He cannot believe it and he wont.

Doesnt matter how much he thinks about u, is subconsciously near u, how he always have a strong urge to pull you to the side just to be alone with you. He will give every excuse in the book before he admits he is in love.

He finds no use for it, he would use excuses like “Love would slow me down” or some bs like that. But then after a few years he begins to get frustrated because now he may be wrong. He may just be wrong about not being in love

The warm feeling he has when he is in ur presence

The way how he remembers the small things about you

The way how even when he gets lost he will always happen to FIND YOU

He even picks up some of ur mannerisms and HE HATES IT SM. He may even act colder towards u for it. He doesnt mean it he is just confused on these new emotions he has never experienced and the poor idiot dont know how to express his feelings all that well so if you ask about why he has been avoiding u he will get defensive.

It doesnt diminish his feelings for u tho u just have to take ur time with him, approach him, talk to him. And if u happen to put two and two together and call him out of his BS he maybe JUST MAYBEEEE be willing to open himself up to a chance of being in love

Idk tho.🧍🏾‍♀️

Half assed answer but i hope u understand what i was trynna say

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cupoftaae · 2 years

Text

Forever and a day (KTH x READER) series♡ boys never grow up. chapter 3

Summary: your lifelong friend is forced to face his true feelings for you once he breaks the number one rule of becoming friends with benefits: dont fall in love. He knows he loves you, but you on the other hand need more convincing of the most important thing: the right decision.

Genre: fwb. Roommates, friends to idiots to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, the whole 9 yards tbh.

Pairing: taehyung x female!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni!!!)

word count: around 2k!!

chapter warnings: so much angst, some fluff if you squint. tae is really sad and reader is kind of mean in this chapter (but shes just confused its ok!) some suggestive talk but nothing major. i think thats all?

A/N- hey everyone! thank you for being so patient with this chapter, I apologize again for going offline for like 2 months, school and work is so crazy but Im glad to be back and writing. Enjoy chapter 3 and check my page for the previous 2 chapters. I will make a masterlist with each chapter soon.

"Honestly if you ask me, hes not doing you any favors. hes holding you back, he works from home and expects you to stay there with him, like a child who depends on their parent. its pathetic. I dont know why hes so defensive over you, He probably has a crush. Hes not very good at hiding it-"

you stared off at the wall behind your boyfriend, Kaito, as he rambled about the previous days altercation. you agreed to meet him for breakfast at the cafe down the street despite you trying to find an excuse out of it that wasnt: "I need to talk to Tae".

you had tried to communicate with tae as soon as you walked out of your room but he was afraid you were mad, and made up some lie about meeting with a friend. you know tae isnt meeting up with anyone. perhaps kaito was correct about the whole 'he depends on you' type thing, because since you guys had agreed to be friends with benefits, he isolated himself to just you. it was slightly concerning considering the fact you two are no longer exclusive, yet he remains emotionally attached.

"What do you think?" he spoke up, taking a sip of his still steaming coffee, while yours remained untouched.

shit.

"about what?" your eyes grew large, hands resting in your lap as you met his confused and slightly irritated gaze.

"about moving in with Chae? I just said it?"

you scoffed under your breath and looked out the window, shaking your head. he was still talking about this? you think he would learn and know better after last nights scene which was caused by this very topic.

"i dont....I dont know kai. Ive got a lot on my plate right now, and she hasnt even reached out to me about that so" you shrugged and looked down at your mug.

"whats going on with you?" he began, eyes scanning over your slumped frame. "you are a mess lately, you dont listen to me when I talk, you havent been keeping up with homework, youre always busy."

you sadly fidgeted with your coat sleeve, realizing everything he was saying was true.

"you know your grades are dropping in Ms.Daniels class right? you never submitted your final scene for the semester and she keeps bugging me to tell you about it, even though you should be keeping track of it yourself, Y/N"

you sighed deeply before nodding, feeling tears at the brim of your eyes. " i know" you mumbled.

"you are becoming distracted. dont let him do that to you. hes 23 years old and he is acting like that? keeping you from being successful just because he dropped out of college himself?"

you felt like your heart had been stabbed by your boyfriends words. You loved tae, he was your best friend, you spent all night in tears over how guilty you felt about this whole situation. you loved him, more than you had realized, but within those thoughts you also came to the conclusion that all you two had was sex. there was no dates, there was no true quality time together that didnt end up with you both making out. You wanted better, you wanted a relationship, which is the one thing Tae didnt want, and you know he would never date you.

Maybe that was it, all these harbored feelings which longed for something he would never give you. but you have kaito now, and its not fair for you to allow Taehyung to cling to your feet while also pursuing a relationship. what were you thinking? about to give up a relationship with a man who actually will give you want you want for some playdate? get yourself together y/n.

"you are right." you swallowed and wiped a tear, looking up at him. he frowned, "im not trying to hurt your feelings, im just saying what I think can help"

"no, no, angel." you reached over to hold his hand. "I need to start focusing on me and less on him. You are correct"

"can I ask you something?" Kaito mumbled, his thumb running over your knuckles.

"hm?"

"were you and him ever together?"

you laughed, shaking your head while trying to think of exactly how to word it. "no. we were never together in any kind of way" you offered a reassuring smile as he nodded.

"ok, im just trying to figure out why he could be so obsessed with you" he laughed

you hummed, "me and him have been friends since we were little, we do everything together and I think since he moved away from his parents, i remind him most of home?" you shrugged.

"maybe. or he likes you" he laughed again.

you bit your lip and shook your head. "no, I dont think so"

"ive seen the way he looks at you." he went on, sitting back. "im a man, y/n, I know these things".

"what things?"

"you know...like when a guy is 'intruiged' by a girl, wants to 'be' with them." he gestures. "to be honest he does seem like the kind to just try and get what he wants then leave" he added on casually, eating the last bite of the shared muffin in front of you.

you were in shock. Is that what all men did? did taehyung only see you in that way?

"and...how do you see me?"

kaito looks back at you and smiles, "i see you as the most beautiful girl, who I love immensely and would do anything for"

your cheeks blush, sitting back in your seat as your hands fidgeted.

"do you wanna just spend the day together? you dont have to go back tonight, id imagine things are....tense, back at the apartment" kaito suggested, standing up and tossing trash away.

spend the day and spend the night with kaito? but what about taehyung? another missed opportunity to finally talk with him.

"sure" you mumble. "but I do need to head home first for a few hours so I can finish some homework, can you pick me up around 6?" you ask, getting up as well.

he kissed your forhead. "ill be there"

Taehyung had been sitting by the lake while he attempted to read "The Catcher In The Rye", a book you previously suggested to him. He didnt understand this type of literature, it wasnt for him. He was never the type to sit and read, but oh how he wanted to be like you.

he lied and told you he was meeting up with a friend from high school, which he knew you wouldnt believe, considering he doesnt have any friends. He just wanted an excuse to avoid you and whatever angry words you had to share with him.

he realized a few things last night, 1, that the chance of you feeling how he feels about you, was literally 0 now. and 2, he needs to get his shit together. It would be hard to just throw away how he felt, especially with what Dahyun said last night. but he knew nothing would come from this. tae needs to focus on tae.

He never regretted his college decision, but he regretted devoting his time so young with some fucking business corporation. If he could chose to do anything, it would be an artist, or something like that. He would love to teach art to younger children. He loved kids and the freedom of expression, the freedom of just being and living. He wished he had motivation to go after what he wanted like you did. Perhaps he believes reading books you enjoy will somehow change him.

or not, considering hes reread the same page 4 times. he looked up to view the water. the way it rippled slightly with the wind. His attention was then caught by a much older man sitting just on the other side of the lake with an easel and canvas, painting. he smiled to himself as he began to think of all the possibilities his life could go in. Since the pandemic, hes kinda been at a stand still. Now the world is open and, truthfully, if he tries hard enough, he could do whatever he wanted. maybe he was too dependent on certain people in his life.

he looked down at his phone to check the time, seeinng you had texted him. He nervously opened the message which contained:

bumblebee: hey, staying over at kaitos tonight. im home rn so do you want me to cook something for you and leave it for dinner? lmk."

he scoffed. you seriously think he cant cook or fend for himself. Hell, you start a kitchen fire ONE TIME and suddenly you cant make dinner.

his eyebrows furrowed. he didnt care anymore if you were gonna spend time with kaito. you were not his to claim. you dont care so why should he? he wants to just forget about everything, the friends with benefits, the dream, YOU, everything.

you had stopped typing on your computer to read his response,

tata: no, thank you though. have fun!

you rolled your eyes, considering throwing together some miso soup and putting it on the stove for him. you knew he was still angry, you hadnt even been able to talk or sort it out, but he was trying to pull some act on you.

you left him on read before getting up and cooking, knowing he would end up eating it anyway.

Taehyung had stood from his spot and brushed the grass stain off his jeans before walking back home. He hoped he wouldn't have to talk to you, but the minute he walked in proved it would be harder than he thought.

you were stood in the kitchen, hair pulled back in a clip and you were applying lipstick through the reflection of the microwave.

you both saw eachother, speaking at the same time.

"is that my book?" "you made soup?"

you both smiled. "you read the book while you were with your friend?" you mumble, screwing the cap back onto your lipstick and throwing it into your overnight bag.

"yep" he pressed his lips together. "he had to, uh, leave early and I wanted to enjoy the nice air today so I stayed out longer. Brought it to keep me busy."

you crossed your arms and looked at him, nodding.

"hm, what do you think of Holden?" you asked.

his eyebrows raised as he looked at the book in his hand.

"uh, I mean. Hes a great guy" tae shrugged nonchalantly.

you scoffed. "no he isnt, hes incredibly flawed, and you did not read that book taehyung"

he looked toward the floor, accepting defeat. "Ok...but look" he walked further into the kitchen as he explained himself. "I cant get into it, I dont get any of the books that you recommend, like cmon what the hell is the 'bird that flew over the cuckoos tree'???"

"its 'nest' tae, and of course you cant get into it" you laughed to yourself. "they arent meant for you."

he put the book down on the table and looked up sadly, confused. "what does that mean?"

you sigh "it means you are childish"

"oh" he looks back at his shoes, deciding not to say anything further.

"you just like simple things, things that dont complicate you. stick to mangas and shit." you spoke, checking your bag so you have everything ready to go to kaitos.

you didnt mean to be rude. but you were fed up. here he is being all attached and in your space again, not even addressing or apologizi-

"look im sorry" he spoke up, voice raspy as he clears it.

you stand to look back at him, eyebrows raised.

"im sorry for being awful last night, it was so out of order and I understand I am quick to act like that and Ill do what I can to avoid it. Im sorry I made things weird, im sorry I embarrassed you and your boyfriend, im sorry for all of it. I am sorry that you feel like you cant talk to me, and im sorry for reading your book, or not? reading it? Im sorry that the reason I was so off yesterday is because I had a dream where we were intimate and it made me feel gross and disgusting because not even 5 hours later your boyfriend was in the room. im sorry that im too involved with you, you are my best friend and you are only that. I wont hold you back anymore, have fun at kaitos and text me. or dont, i dont care. Thanks for the soup." he spoke flatly, taking a breath as he finished then walking casually to his room as you stood there frozen, unsure of what to do or say.

"what the fuck?" you whispered to yourself, trying to unpack everything he just said. A dream??

you clutched your head and sighed. everything is such a mess. you finished throwing stuff into your bag and grabbed your phone, wanting kaito to pick you up an hour earlier, you needed to get out of the apartment and free your mind of whatever the fuck is going on. you needed to just have a nice time with your boyfriend.

taehyung leaned against the door to his bedroom and watched you leave with kaito. once you were gone, he shut the door and threw his hands to his face in shame. he really just let everything go there.

He wanted to rip the bandaid off, he wasnt sure it was the best way to do it but....kinda too late now. He wasnt sure what you would think of him now, but his conscience is now clean and he can do what he has been wanting to do: move on.

A/N: whew. the plot thickens. !!expect chapter 4 to be out friday!! comment to join taglist!

@taebangtanbabe

@turnthepageandbeburnt

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pollyna · 2 years

Text

The first time Carole hears Nick mention Ron is three months into their relationship. It's just a passing comment on who is going to be around that night at the pub, but he does a face that tells more than he could. If Thomas is around, Ron will be there too. They do everything together lately. Carole can almost feel how jealous Nick is, but then a new song on the radio starts, Nick smiles, and he swaps her from the floor, and they're dancing around their living room, singing out of tune and kissing each other silly.

Neither Thomas nor Ron are at the pub that night, and she can see how disappointed he is, but he tries not to show it.

II.

The second time they're sitting around the table, filling out the invitations for their wedding. They have been together for three years and Nick has never brought up Ron again, partially because now he flies with Maverick and Maverick takes so much space and time in his life that she barely knows how he sleeps. Should I invite Tom and Ron too? he asks, and she can't help but smile gently. Sure, honey, why not? a moment later, Nick adds yeah, but they probably won't be able to come. I don't know if-

Her hands are smaller than his when she squeezes them gently, It's okay if you want them around. Yeah, yeah, you're right. Okay, I'm going to invite them. He kisses her hand before going back to work.

Tom sends back the invitation saying thank you but we're to be deployed in two days, here the present, sorry for the inconvenience, have a good wedding! in a strangley beautiful italic calligraphy. The morning of the wedding the present comes in the shape of twenty hibiscus flowers that make Nick giddy to the point where he makes her wear one. The pictures are beautiful, and it's because of the flowers too.

III.

The third time, it's Maverick who brings Ron into the discussion, or better yet, it's Maverick who brings Slider into their dinner, and Nick almost chokes.

Did you hear that Iceman and Slider had their kill of the mission?

No Mav. Nick answers Are they okay?

Yeah, but it's not that important. That should have been us, Goose! Us, not them!

Nick's shoulders are tense for the rest of the night and his eyes continue to watch the phone like it could give him all the answers he needs or catch fire any moment now.

That night, under the cover and protected by the darkness, Nick cries over her shoulder. And he talks about high school and the kid who used to run around the football field with his team and how he used to always take a bottle of water for him too because he knew Nick would have forgotten his. About his first kiss in the locker room and how afraid he was because Ron was a boy and he was a boy. And how afraid he still is because the only other person he kisses that well is sleeping near him and listening to him, and he wants, but he can't and doesn't want Carole to think for a moment she isn't enough because she is the love of his life. He's just worried about Ron. He wants him back and alive. He wants him happy.

Carole almost doesn't know what to say. She can only hug him against her chest and hope that out there, Ron is doing okay.

IV.

The letters arrive with another one attached. The first is from Maverick and Goose, the second from Nick. They said they took us to Top Gun!! We're going to Miramar! and Nick adds you should take out your flowery dress and come to find me whenever you can, Miramar is going to be beautiful, but nothing is as beautiful as you.

When she arrives at the airport, her favorite two idiots are waiting for her and Nick's kisses taste even sweeter, after all those months of deployment.

The place where they eat is awesome, Charlie seems kind of nice, and she knows what they're all talking about, so the conversation doesn't die after the first five minutes. She says Iceman and Slider are good but not that good, and the rest of the conversation is kind of lost to her because Nick is looking guilty and she has to kiss his stupid face because he should have told her, but only because she wants to meet the guy at this point. You'll have to introduce me to them one day! she adds, taking the last sip of her beer. Goose can't stop talking about them she adds, it almost feels like he has a crush on them! Charlie looks at her shocked, Mav laughs, and Goose blushes a little.

She is honestly curious to meet the man, at this point. She wants to look the guy in the eyes and check if everything's alright with him, because how could he let go of Nick? Stupid Ron. Better for her though.

Nick and Mav don't win Top Gun but it's a near miss. Everybody is around for the celebration, and they're all talking about the great Iceman and Slider, but she can't, for the life of her, see either of them. Mav and Charlie aren't there either because, apparently, they broke up because there's another blond in Mav's life, even if he doesn't want to tell her, or Nick, who they are. Carole has half of an idea of their identity, but she isn't going to say anything until Mav doesn't. But, coming back to Ron, apparently everybody and their mother are talking about him and the Iceman and their maneuver, but they aren't around.

Carole is starting to be annoyed by Ron's absence because she really wants to see the man, but the moment she finishes that thought, Goose's arm isn't around her anymore and there's a letter in his hands, and she can feel it in her bones that they're not going to make it to the restaurant, not that night at least. His kiss tasted a little like all the goodbyes they never had the courage to say out loud and a little like a promise to come back to her.

It takes them five years, but they're finally in that pub like they planned the first time, and, this time around, Nick doesn't say who is going to be where; he just takes her by the hand and they're in a bar full of white uniform and drunken sailors singing along and celebrating. Mav's arm is around a blond man's shoulder who's wearing sunglasses inside, and he's talking to another tall man who's now looking at Nick like he wants to eat him.

So Carole, love, this is Ron. Ron, this is my wife, Carole Nick introduces them, and when Ron gets up to shake her hand, she can really understand, even just on a physical level, why Nick finds him attractive. You should come and dance with us, Ron she murmurs against his heat and, oh God, she has to go on her tips for him too. Yeah, yeah, maybe I should, he answers, smirking at Nick and taking her hands until the middle of the floor. Don't you want to come to Goosie? she asks, oh so innocently, batting her eyelashes at him like she used to do when they were still just flirting. Nick blushes again, watching behind him where Mav is lost in a world of Thomas and only Thomas, before taking a step forward. Let's dance, baby, let's dance, he adds, smiling and walking towards them.

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mistergoddess · 4 months

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absolutely petrified to take 1 day off work even though i am experiencing burnout to the degree it's become physically taxing... extreme clumsiness and brain fog and so completely drained and fatigued and nauseous and headachey so like at this point i am physically ill from it. and mentally i fear for myself if i keep going like this. because work has been so fucking awful lately and it's starting to show up very much in my mental wellbeing. and ive called out maybe once every TWO months ive worked here, so that means in 8 months ive taken like 4 sick days, but ive caught major shit for it every time (despite the fact that there are other people who call out like every other day) and i don't trust myself to not just go "ok then i quit good luck covering the next 3 weeks of closing shifts i was scheduled on" if they try to say shit over me taking one day off.

also i wasn't even scheduled to fucking work on tuesday and they changed it on like... sunday... with no notice, did not ask if i was available, just changed it, right before the week started... which is such a dick move. the other day one of my coworkers was checking out the new layout and was like "this is on purpose to make people miserable so they quit and they can get new people in" and i was like you're so fucking real for that because ever since the change i've been just miserable coming in because it's so awful and poorly thought out by these idiot managers who don't actually work there and just moved shit around willy nilly and made it so inefficient and frustrating and brutal and idfk like non-ergonomic to work like this...

so that, and then this week the incidents of 1) random new lady just wandering up to me and starting to follow me around... only for a while into it for her to go "oh yeah i'm here for training" and it was just like oh that's cool i would have really loved to be mentally prepared for that in any way at all and not just have someone kinda walk up and start staring at me like wtf am i supposed to do with that like just??? assume i'm supposed to train her? tf?? and it was LATE in the shift too like i was in clutch closing duties time like. absolutely mind boggling and infuriating. that a manager couldn't even come over and be like oh hey by the way this is so and so can you just show her shit for a while and have her help you close... like NOTHINGGG she just came up and didn't say anything and started just following me and looking at me. and then the second incident 2) changing my off days randomly at the LAST minute before the week starts... just fucking DISRESPECTFUL. those two disrespectful ass things happening on top of the first week of the new layout which is making working my station incredibly brutal and difficult has made it such a miserable time when up until now i've LIKED this job and now i feel like im going to flip the fuck out and have a panic attack at work and quit on the spot and make a big scene about it any day now.

so. ugh. i'm really doing rough and experiencing very clear burnout and i need to quit but i don't have the energy to job hunt while working here but i definitely can't quit first with no other plan and just be unemployed on the job hunt because that's risky boots so like... idfk what to do. gonna try to stick it out a lil bit but i need to be trying to look for smth else :( i need something that pays more and well. i can't really hope for better management in this city lol i get the sense that kind of everywhere you go bosses are going to be psycho. also like everyone i know is always jobhunting even tho theyre looking for the same shit i do and that worries and weirds me out but i also think theyre just being really selective and not taking the kind of garbage i would... but anyway if i could get something that pays a lil more and has a more consistent schedule/better hours then well :/ that'd be nice at least...

but i'm super scared it's fucking scary i do not have that dog in me to hustle in this city lol i just took the first really crap big chain hospitality job that was easy to get, but up until this week at least ive liked it :( and the commute is easy and i get so much free food which is pretty much the only way i can afford to work here... and i like the people i work with a lot :'( and the shift leads are fine, it's just management that's fucking awful and SO stupid and neurotic and unfair. and our customers kinda suck dick bc they're hella stupid rude stressed out asshole big groups big families tourists and i'd love to be somewhere where the clientele is a little less of a shitty demographic.. and the being in weird half closeted limbo at work is rough lol. and also closing my specific station is fucking grueling and exhausting as hell so it's not particularly easy work...

like :( all signs point to i gotta get the hell outta here pretty soon but im soooo scared <3 i do not want to job hunt <3 especially with burnout <3 i am in a bad position <3 bc if i quit rn i'm gonna need time to recover from burnout and historically that's taken me a little while and we ARE NOT IN MY HOME TOWN ANYMORE TOTO I CANNOT JUST CHILL FOR A BIT IN BETWEEN JOBS I DO NOT HAVE A SUPPORT SYSTEM HERE *AT ALL* OR EVEN FRIENDS AND IT'S TOO EXPENSIVE TO JUST LIVE OFF MY SAVINGS FOR A FEW MONTHS... so that'd be really stressful and bad to have no time to recover from burnout and have to try to find something new right away... but also if i just idk stay... i'm just gonna go nuts from the burnout getting too bad and quit anyway like i'm not gonna recover if i just stay. so i'll be in the same if not a worse position... so idk what to do... lmaooo........

but oughh ok yeah i'm so scared and hesitant to call out which is such a clear sign it's such a toxic workplace :/ but also i don't wanna lose tips that day :/ but i'm gonna have to suck it up it'd be all of like $20 less so whatever i have paid sick hours so i need to get over the slight paycheck loss of tips for ONE day real quick bc i need that day so much more than i need the $20 (i do need the $20 too) so really the only fear is gEtTiNg iN tRoUbLe... i'm just gonna tell them i'm going to kms if they don't let me have a mental health day idk no matter what i have to stick to my guns and not grit my teeth and force myself to go in i need to just call in sick because fuuuuck

#massive fuckoff vent teehee i needed to scream into the void a lil time for another ciggy #shitpost.txt

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truckreincarnation · 9 months

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I’d Much Rather Play the Idiot | Manami | 4.1 | RE: Esmée, Germain

Manami can’t bring herself to look at anyone around her right now. To either side of her, a fallen friend and runaway lover. Directly across, a swathe of empty space where people should have been. To Shin, now in the same boat as her, the same boat as Vee, flanked by death. Two more people she knew he was close to dead. She thinks if she looks at him even a second longer her heart will break even more than it already has right now. The same goes for so many people here, all suffering from these losses. There is exactly one person she thinks she can focus in the direction without shattering her quiet resolve out of sheer despair, and so her eyes settle on him.

King Calum Calac-Lamity IV will have to do. He’s here for a bit of entertainment, and she will do her best to avoid boring him. She has to, not only out of fear but for the need of a part to play, something just to the left of herself to latch onto. She bows her head to him in polite acknowledgment.

“You, um, you grace us with your presence, Your Majesty.”

Flattery wasn’t exactly going to earn them any favours, but it sure beat provoking the guy who had not even threatened but promised to ruin their lives into ruining them a little faster. At least his cape in particular gave her somewhere to look that wasn’t too terribly upsetting. Ah, but worrying too much about the smug bastard wouldn’t be very productive. She has to focus on Frank and Luz Victim A and Victim B. There are other persons of interest who will no doubt shed some light on the situation. She’ll let them speak when they’re ready. She figures she should probably share her piece for now, too.

“... I, I was alone for most of the night, admittedly, but I promise I stayed in the tree the whole time. Doing what I could to, um… to keep myself, you know, from laughing or smiling. It's easier by myself. I went for a late walk around the first floor a little bit after 9 just to stretch my legs. I saw Avery and Meme, just like she said. I did see Theophania really briefly at around 9:30, in, um, in the East hallway, but that’s the only, um, only thing I can really imagine being remotely relevant to narrow anything down. I didn’t see the other two basically all night.”

Luz and Frank. One person who she felt like she was really starting to develop a rapport with, and the other who had promised there was still a chance for a happy ending. They… they would both be back. And she believed with her whole heart that the Bound could still be happy. It’d just be cruel if that promise turned out to be a lie. She doesn't speak either of their names out loud for fear they'll be what she trips over and falls apart on.

“... part of me wishes I still hadn’t. I… I’m tired of seeing things like those burns… I almost don’t even want to think about it.”

Not that it's ever mattered what she wanted. Manami will do her best as always - she knows she has to, regardless of her personal desires.

#Manami #ch4 #trial4 #submission

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ms-sakurai · 6 years

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We live a dying dream If you know what I mean All that I’ve ever known

Happier times, before Wkm

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amoristt · 3 years

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Grazing the Fire | IV

well hello. here i am, four years later, once again enamored with nathan enough to finally dust this baby off and pick up where i left it. im a little rusty so bear with me this chapter! much more to come <3

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)! it also helps motivate me!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Warning: language, very vague s/a mentions

want to support me? heres my kofi!

__________________________

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?”

A few hands raise in the corners of your eye, but yours remains atop your desk. Eyes far away, mind in a murky haze and almost completely unaware. All you could focus on were the memories playing on repeat within the confines of your tired, tired brain. Hours ago, you were warm, you were comfortable. Safe.

Cheeks heated to a dusting blush when you remind yourself just how you had awoken that morning. At some point in the night, an angel had blessed you. Allowed you to wake up wrapped around none other than big, bad, Nathan Prescott. Your face nuzzled into his chest, broad but wiry hands pressed firmly over your shoulder and his arm slung over your waist to keep you against him. Thankfully you had been the first to wake up, blinking away the morning sun blazing through his blinds and painting the room stripes of gold. At that moment, before your headache came crashing down onto your skull, you were astounded by him.

Eye lashes brushing the top of his cheeks, his lips parted ever so slightly, chest rising and falling rhythmically. In that moment, there was no anger, no bitterness. Just a soft and peaceful slumber. It was like being the sole viewer of a magnificent painting- each stroke and detail placed just there just for you to pick out, to remember the curves and sharp edges down to the very foundation. From his unkempt hair down to the way his hand flattened onto the mattress where your indent still lived. Nathan was so beautiful like this.

For a long time you stayed there. It was as though you were afraid to move- you couldn’t bear to disturb him. You had wondered, if he was always like this, so at peace, what would he be like? Likely soft voiced, mild mannered. He’d do his school assignments without hassle and donate to the charity board. He would wander the town with his friends and listen to music in a beat up truck flying down the stretch of highway overlooking the bold, blue, and beautiful ocean. An entirely different version of himself- carefree, and a fair blue as opposed to a burning flame of red.

But, if that were the case, you’d never have gotten here. You’d never been both the outsider, and the only seeing eye. A lucky, albeit firstly unwilling witness to the display of depth before you.

It never hit you like it had quite in that moment how lucky you were.

But- just then- an alarm disturbed what serendipity existed. You nearly leapt out of your skin, clutched your hands to your chest at the sudden sound. A headache wove its way into your once untouched temples. Nathan groaned, mumbled, ‘god damn it’, under his breath, and thus his body was reanimated into life. He rubbed his eyes and he stretched, that familiar scowl coming over his eyes and lips as he took in the sunlight damn near blinding him. A polar opposite to the being you’d appreciated just moments earlier.

“Ugh, fuck, how the fuck is it seven already.” He groaned. “I feel like shit.”

“Well good morning to you too,” You started, welcoming Nathan into the world. “‘I’m feeling pretty shitty as well.”

You said that, but really… You were more than alright. Your head had hurt, slight nausea crept into the wells of your stomach, but other than that you’re sure you were phenomenally better than you’d have been waking up whereverTate would have left your ass.

“You need to get outta here, before everyone gets up.” Nathan drawled, but he didn’t sound as urgent as you expected him to be. You’d expected him to be angry that you were still in his room, but instead he just… accepted it.

You snickered, climbing out of his throne of a bed. “Wow, you’re giving me the morning after treatment?”

“Sure am. Get outta here, whore.”

“Oh fuck you.”

You located your heels from last night, resting upright near his dorm room door. Heels didn’t sound like the most practical to sneak out of a dorm with, so you instead opted to grappling them by the straps and carrying them at your side. Hair a mess, outfit riddled with wrinkles and makeup smudged under your eyes, you stood before Nathan in all your glory. He stared at you for a long, odd moment- and you for some reason felt exposed, or even, shy.

“What?” You ask expectantly, placing a hand on your hip.

His eyes trail to your line of vision. He shakes his head. “Just thinking about how now you really do look like my morning after.”

“Yeah?” You hummed. “Find it hard to believe you get a lot of those.”

Nathan shoots you a suggestive glance. “You’d be surprised. Everyone wants a piece of Prescott.”

Surely, he was joking, or maybe he wasn’t, but you… Didn’t like hearing that. It made your stomach feel odd, uncomfortably heavy. As he stood up, reminding you how many inches he had over your size, you swallowed and cleared your throat to flush out that crappy feeling. “Well,” you started, mood having dropped. “I’m gonna go, then.”

“What got your panties in a twist all the sudden?” He asked, raising a brow and pulling some clothes from his closet, tossing them onto the bed.

The bed you two had shared.

You hated the idea of his morning afters- whoever they may be.

“Not feeling great. Probably a side effect of the roofies.” You mumbled.

Nathan breathed a laugh. “Probably.”

He seemed so calm, right now. Perhaps due to it being so early, before the outside world had a chance to remind him just why he was so uptight all the tight. Before he needed to be so uptight all the time. He really did have so many versions of himself- all of whom you were slowly becoming familiar with. Compared to the person you’d believed him to be before your run ins, you’d never have assumed someone so dangerous could be so soft as last night, as this morning. In the beginning, you’d feared him. Avoided him like a plague, or a wild animal. Even when you were enraptured in the existence of him, you still wanted to keep away. You’d never have believed someone like you could wake up clutched to his chest, as though he were afraid if he released you, you’d be gone long before he woke.

Then, a sudden thought struck your mind.

He’d held you so tight. He’d welcomed you in the morning. No anger, no annoyance. His soft laugh at your banter and taunts. How your heels were standing upright instead of tossed haphazardly into some random corner, where he’d watch your struggle to find.

How he’d stayed awake to ensure your sleep.

“So are you just gonna stand there?” Nathan called you back to reality, hands gripping the hems of his shirt. “I gotta get ready and you need to wash up so you don’t look like a five dollar stripper.” Cruel words, but with absolutely no bite. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah. But, hey,” You started. “Thank you for last night.”

“Yeah, yeah. You gotta start learning to watch your own back.” He says. “There’s gonna be times I won’t be there to drag your ass out of the fire.”

If you’d been charged, if you’d been stricken with a strange defensiveness, you’d have retorted, ‘than stop helping me’, but… Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of protection. You allowed Nathan Prescott to watch you.

“I know,” You reached for the door. “Thank you.”

With that, you bounded out of the dorm silent as a mouse.

-----------

In hindsight, you should have left earlier. Class was merely 15 minutes away when you slipped out of Nathan's room and bounded towards the women's dorm. Albeit not exactly a long walk, by the time you discreetly snuck back into your own dorm, you had roughly twenty minutes to somehow pick an outfit from your countless unopened boxes and make yourself even slightly presentable.

Wiping off whatever make-up you could get and reapplying it, brushing out the tangles of your hair and nearly tearing off your scalp in the process, scattering your nightclothes over your floor and managing to scrounge out a semi-decent outfit for the day… You still looked a mess. If the mirror could laugh, it would have. Black mascara smudges under your eyes and frizzy untreated hair. What a lovely look.

You’d made it to class just five minutes late, but those five minutes were all it took for all eyes to be on you as you tried to slide into the classroom unnoticed. A couple classmates whispered to their table mates as you passed by, smelling of oversaturated cherry blossom perfume to hopefully cover the scent of alcohol. You sauntered to your seat and sank down with all your weight, suddenly exhausted. You’d made it with just five minutes tainting your record of attendance. The teacher greeted you with a disappointed sigh, and thus, the day began.

But, it was so hard to focus. All you could think about was Nathan.

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?”

You lowered your head.

“Ah, how about, ___?”

You snaked back into reality, blinking up at the chalk board that was somehow already riddled with math equations. Since you hadn’t been paying attention even in the slightest, your mouth gaped wide open, eyes scanning for something you understood even slightly so you didn’t look like a total idiot.

Sadly, you were out of luck. The teacher shook his head. “I’m shocked,” He said. “You're normally so on top of things. Oh well.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was on top of things,” A female voice sniggered behind you “Last night.”

Your face flushed a red, hot, ruby. What the hell was she talking about? How had they found out you were with Nathan? You were so sure of being sneaky, there was no way-

“Her and Tate totally got it on last night.”

You whipped around in your seat, facing girls who looked to be clones of some sort. Both with the same dark eyes, short brown hair, and freckles. “What?”

“Alright-” Your teacher blurted. “That's enough. April, May, enough. Let’s not discuss things outside of the classroom.”

The two girls batted their eyes. “Sorry sir.” One spoke, twirling a hand through her hair. Her sister's wide toothy grin never fumbled.

“Back to it then. Kate, can you help out __ with number four?”

The small, blonde girl nodded quickly, brushing a lock of hair behind her eyes and offering an empathic nod.

As you turned around in your seat, her answer fell on deaf ears. Your heart was racing in your chest, hands balled into fists while you stared ahead blankly.

They couldn’t seriously think that you chose to leave with Tate, could they? Surely someone must have seen the state you were in. Someone other than Nathan.

The clock ticks forward but time feels like it's passing almost unnaturally slow. With just 10 minutes left, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

‘Nathan: consider ur favor officially returned

Your tongue poked from your lips, the tiniest of smiles taking over your once sullen features. Terrible thoughts and worries flew out the window while you type back, ‘damn. here i was gonna to ask you to do a backflip off the roof with me. there goes my plans.’

Nathan types for a moment. Typing, stopping, typing again.

‘Nathan: soundz like a blast. where and when?’

A small blush heats your cheeks. ‘very funny. thanks to last night i have an entire 24 hour session of studying to catch up with.’

His response is almost instant. ‘Nathan: boringgg. txt me when ur fun.’

Rolling your eyes, you shove your phone back into your pocket. It seems you’ve been able to secure enough of a friendship with him for some mindless banter even outside your little visits. You smile. He’s… Fun to talk to. Surprisingly.

Class comes to an end and you start to pack up the books and papers you’d hardly even glanced at the whole period. Whatever had been upsetting you before is lost in your mind while you think of the morning, the night before. All the things in-between. But, your happiness doesn’t last long. As you get up, you’re almost forced right back into your seat as a weight shoves into your shoulder. Your books scatter to the floor. April, the one who’d remarked about you earlier, glares at you in what looks to be disgust.

“Careful April,” Her sister hums as she saunters past you, keeping distance and raising her already shrill tone of voice. “Might wanna watch where you’re walking- I’d hate for you to catch something from this slut.”

You absolutely gawk at her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

April scoffs. “Oh come on, like everyone doesn’t know what you were up to last night.”

“Sleeping around isn’t a good color on you.” May hikes her bag over her shoulder and snickers at you. They both leave the class together, sickeningly in sync. You’re left stunned where you stand, unsure how the hell your life came to this so quickly. How you’ve stooped so low that the daughters of the world's most uncreative parents are able to bully you based on something that didn’t even happen.

Next class goes no better. The person to your right, a jockey looking brunette guy, asks, ‘have you ever heard of a Tate?’. You say no, that that’s the dumbest name you’ve ever heard. The idiot grins and goes back to marking down likely wrong answers on his test sheet and you debate kicking the leg of his chair out- but you don’t to avoid even more eyes on you. It makes you sick to your stomach- even more than recovering from the roofies does. How can everyone believe it? You barely even knew the guy and you were clearly uncomfortable with his advances. No one saw that?

After everything you’d worked for to build a reputation, trying so hard to not call out peoples shit for the sake of seeming friendly, tainted over something that didn’t even happen? And the kicker was that it hadn’t even been your fault! He’d drugged you, he’d have taken advantage of you! Yet you were the bad person?

Class came and went in the blink of an eye this time. Your mind wrapped up in the situation, your stomach churning. You wanted the day to be over with but you still had 4 more classes to suffer through. Why was this happening to you? Was Tate being treated just as horribly, or was he getting pats on the backs of his unaware friends?

Wandering down the halls to your locker, you noticed Lance and Kaz hanging around one of the drinking fountains. Your nerves quelled- your friends would surely make you feel much better. Especially since they had witnessed how awful you were feeling as you left. You approach with a relieved smile, ready to say your truth and finally have someone on your side.

“Hey guys.” You smile, but Lance looks down at his feet while Kaz places her hands to his hips. Your smile fades.

“You could have told us you were gonna spend the night with Tate,” Kaz snaps. “You didn’t need to lie like that just to leave. We were all worried about you and it was for nothing.”

“What?” You feel like you could cry. “No, Kaz, I really did try to leave. Tate tried to drug me and take me home, and-”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Lance interrupts, with a frown. He looks back down at the floor with knitted brows. “I’ve known Tate since before time. He wouldn't do something like that, especially not to one of my best friends. Plus he told me he was really into you. Why would he even try?”

“Are you serious?” You sputter. “You think I’d lie about something like that?”

“You’ve been lying about all sorts of things!” Kaz huffs. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been so distant, and secretive. What are you hiding that’s making you lie like this? We’re supposed to be your friends and then you lie to our faces just to go and fuck the first guy that shows you attention.”

“What…?” It was like acid. It was like the rug had been pulled from your feet sending you spiraling down the unending cliff. Kaz, your best friend, all that venom. How could they turn against you like this? What the hell is going on? You felt your throat tighten. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, but I’m not lying to you, I-”

“We gotta go.” Lance isn’t in the mood to hear it. “We’ll catch up to you.. Some other time.”

Kaz says nothing as she pushes past you. Lance, at least, spares a short glance over his shoulder. You stood there alone in the hallway, your bag falling off your shoulder and clattering onto the floor with a thud echoing off the walls. Everything you had, all gone at once.

No one believed you.

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With nowhere to go where you felt like you could truly allow yourself to process the day's events, you went to the only place you knew.

Just outside of campus, where rocks lined the edge of the boundary, overlooking the outskirts of the town and the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. You settled yourself there, staring at the vast waters and wondering how this had all happened. Unlucky didn’t even begin to cover how it felt. Not only did you feel violated with Tate attempting to do unthinkable things with your unconscious body, but you also felt alone, and walked on. Your best friends hadn’t believed you. While Lance seemed saddened, Kaz was so… Angry. Her words cut like knives into your skin.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this.

You want to talk to Nathan, but knowing him, he’d see your state and bounce instantly. After all, this isn’t exactly very fun of you.

As the sun began to fall, splaying orange and blues over the wide open sky, behind you, you could hear voices. A group of them, some male, some female. Memories of when your notebook had gotten snatched by those two horsed face assholes came flooding back and with all your alertness, you stood up, and decided that this sitting place was no longer safe. Nothing was.

Before you even made it ten feet away, the group had found their way to your spot and gotten comfortable, one of the girls cheering, ‘this’ll be our hangout! look at how pretty the view is!’

You took a short drive down the stretches of road and decided that if you were going to lament in your own sadness, you were at least going to do so in a place that had something to cover the sound of your tears. Plus a nice view.

The beach, littered with its picnic tables and the sounds of crashing waves would suffice just fine. So, you pulled in the desolate parking lot and wandered down the sandy shores until you stumbled upon a picnic table shaded by a large willow cascading lushious branches to block out the sun- a perfect canopy for you to wallow under.

You had nothing at that moment. No friends, no reputation, no one to believe your tragic tale. And now, you’d just lost the one spot that made you feel comfortable when stress was building into your body like concrete. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes and you bit your lip, dreading that feeling of a lump in your throat. Why you? Everything had been going so well. How could not even a single person believe that Tate had tried to hurt you?

Well, actually, there was one person.

Of course Nathan believed you. He’d been the one to rescue you, after all. Time and time again it seemed. How was it that even the ones closest to you would turn their back so fast, yet Nathan seemed to be there even when you didn’t want him to be? Even when you yelled at him, and he yelled right back, fire and sparks falling into embers around the two of you.

In that moment, you almost felt like you could finally relate to him. A reputation based on lies and things out of your control, paired with a hardheaded attitude to try and combat all the assumptions.

No wonder he was so angry.

“Hey bitch,” A voice suddenly called, and you had a split second moment where you were terrified of once again being the victim of a cruel prank or some classmates boredom. “How about next time you have a pity party you don’t fucking call me in the middle of it.”

You blinked away your tears and through the blurriness saw a figure coming towards you. All that sass, the tone...

“Nathan?” You breathed. It only takes moments before he’s in front of you, holding his phone in view, seeing that the call that had been running for nearly ten minute. You flush in embarrassment, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “How did that happen?”

“Well, can your ass dial numbers?” He taunts, ending the call.

“Damn it, dumb phone must have butt-dialed you. I knew I should’ve gotten a different one.” You mentally kick yourself. “It must have unlocked in my pocket.”

“You don’t have a password on your phone?” He taunts. When you shake your head, he whistles. “You are just begging for a robbery. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m in the mood to send random messages to all your buddies.”

“Fuck off.” You scowl, and he grins, hopping up on the picnic table next to you. The sun flatters his skin. He’s almost glowing.

“Speaking of buddies, how the hell did it pick my number out of your sea of friends?”

You shrug. “Probably cuz’ it’s a priority contact.”

“Oh lala, I’ve been upgraded to priority huh? Does it display a superman logo whenever you give it a ring?”

“Nope. When I press call it rings the nearest asshole in my vicinity. The fact that it’s you is your own problem.”

“Haha, fucking ha.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He stares out at the water, watching waves pull and crash onto the beach. It’s almost beautiful, until he ruins it. “Yknow, you’re a really ugly crier.”

“Wow, thanks.” You shake your head. “That's exactly what I needed to hear right now. Why did you even stay on the line?.” Wiping your eyes, you start to forget your tears. “Couldn’t have been that wild of a conversation.”

Nathan shrugs. “Between the crying and the sound of the waves it was pretty nice.” He grins. “Very educational.”

“Awesome. Glad I was able to make your day.” It doesn’t feel like your usual bitey remarks. You’re tired, you’re still a little hurt and you can’t stop thinking about how such an amazing morning had turned into such a horrible day.

“So what’s got you all fucked up? Never seen you act like this big of a baby before.”

“Nothing. You already paid off your debt to me per this morning, so feel free to resume our regularly scheduled mutual hatred.” You say, lying through your teeth. You know you’re both past the point of hatred, but you’re feeling jaded, you can’t help it.

“Oh shut the fuck up,” He groans. “I didn’t drag my ass all the fucking way out to this shit hole of a beach just for you to give me that bullshit. What, did you fail a test? No one matched you on tinder?”

“Everyone thinks me and Tate slept together last night.” You blurt. “I think he’s telling people me and him had sex.”

Nathan tenses his shoulders and grimaces. “Fucking werido.”

“I told my best friends that he tried to take advantage of me and they don’t believe me. One of em’ even said he wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Fuck em’. Who needs best friends.”

“And to make everything so much better, these two bitches that I share four of my classes with harassed me all goddamn day. I mean, fucks sake, how the hell are girls named April and May of all things able to get to me. It’s bullshit. And to make matters worse, Tate is just… Getting away with it.”

“Yeah well, something tells me that Tate’s gonna get a real nice fucking taste of medicine eventually. I just gotta find him first. He’s got a lot of nerve spreading shit around given I knocked his ass onto the pavement.” Nathan brows knit at the memory.

You test the waters. “Why would you do that for me?”

He seems caught off guard, or maybe, surprised that you’d ask. Maybe he thinks you’re both beyond that point. He grumbles, “Why does it matter.”

“I’m just curious. We don’t owe each other anything, remember?”

“Yeah, well,” He huffs. “Don’t ask me questions to shit I don’t know the answer to.”

“You say that an awful lot.” You tease.

“Yeah well you ask dumbass questions an awful lot. Not everything I do has to have some weird ass motives behind it, ___. Maybe I’ve got beef with Tate that’s outside of you.”

“Uhuh. Sure.” You’re about to say something else, when your phone lights up with a text. The display makes your heart fall all over again.

Unknown Number: you should just pack up and go somewhere else. no one wants std’s from breathing your air xoxo

You don’t even know who that is. Now absolute strangers are on your case. You want to throw your phone into the ocean and leave.

Nathan scoffs. “Don’t even bat a fucking eye for that bitch, whoever the hell they are. Half the hoes you’ve mentioned have slept with half the football team,” he pinches his jacket, “and I would know.”

“Ew, Nathan,” You grimace, that same feeling from the morning returning. It feels, oddly, like jealousy. He nudges your arm with his elbow and grins playfully. It’s cute.

“Chill, I’m just fucking with you. You gotta know even I wouldn’t fuck girls that desperate. I’m a man of class.”

That last comment actually forces a laugh from you. It’s soft, but it’s real. The first laugh you’ve genuinely had all day. “That’s horrible.” You remark, giggling again.

It's almost like the slight restoration of your mood puts him at ease as well. He leans back on his hands and stares off into the ocean, those sparkling waters under the setting, orange sun. “I’m for real though. Those hoes aren’t worth your time. One day when we blow this shithole of a town they’re not even gonna matter.”

Your brows knit, eyes blinking up at him. Had you heard that right?

“We?” You ask, perplexed, albeit a little… Hopeful.

Nathan sputters. “Well- Like, when everyone’s older and-”

“You know what, it's fine.” You interrupt. “Fuck it. You’re right. We’re gonna blow this town and they’re just gonna be some shitty memories.”

He sucks in a shaky breath. You’ve never heard him scramble like that, like he’s been unmasked. The look he casts you when you agree, when you don’t tease or patronize and finally hop on the idea that yeah, what if the two of you really didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

What if the two of you could just exist, without the anger.

You look up at him. “Would you actually do that though?” You start. “With me, of all people?”

He swallows. His expression is tense, but he’s not upset. He appears nervous, caught off guard. Nathan tries, “I-”

Your phone rings. Shrill, piercing. Mood destroying.

“Jesus Christ, it’s my mom.” You grab your phone and Nathan looks forward, stone faced and silent as you hop off the table and answer. It’s your mother, who all but shouts into the phone that her and your father are taking a surprising visit to Arcadia Bay while they’re traveling by on their vacation. She insists that you be ready in about an hour for dinner, and likely there will be family photos.

Which means if you still look as wrecked as you did this morning, you’re gonna have a lot of washing up to do. With a quick goodbye, a short and sweet, ‘love you’, you hang up and sigh.

“You still tell your mom you love her?” He teases. “What are you, five?”

You frown. “You don’t tell your parents you love them?”

Nathan side eyes you, and just shrugs. It is all the answer you need, really, and for his sake you decide it wouldn’t be best to press the issue. Not now. But- it still makes your heart hurt just a little. You wished that he’d had it better growing up.

“Right… Do you want a ride home?”

“Fuck no, what am I,” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “a fucking girl scout?”

“I was just offering, weirdo.” When he doesn't get up, you feel like you’re missing out. Like if you stayed, maybe, just maybe, you’d get to know him a little better. “Hey, if you want, I can stay for a bit longer.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re needed elsewhere. But,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Fuckin’... Text me or something. Or not, I don’t care either way.”

There’s a small warmth in your chest that rises to your cheeks. He wants you to text him. “Yeah,” You say. “If I’m feeling fun.”

And with that, you bid him farewell, beginning your descent to the parking lot.

“Hey,” He calls, and you turn just in time to catch a small item he’s tossed right at you. A tiny key resides in the palm of your hand. “Spare. If shit hits the fan again-...” He shrugs, and actually looks away. “Just don’t be too fucking loud of I’ll kick your ass out myself. No Madison needed.”

The widest grin plays over your lips. “I’m gonna re-decorate your room while you’re gone.”

“Ah, you fucking better not.” He shouts. “Actually- you know what, give it back.”

“No, no! I’m sorry.” You play with the key between your fingers. “Thanks for this.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t lose it and remember- emergencies only. I don’t need you watching me sleep like fucking freak. We’re past that stage.”

“How many times will I have to say I was never watching you. Christ… But, alright. See ya, then.” The key is heavy in your palm.

You place it into your pocket and give him one last glance before you take off, leaving him to enjoy the sound of waves, birds, and the absence of your tears.

#nathan prescott #nathan prescott x reader #life is strange #grazing the fire #scenario #fanfic #fluff

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aliensunflower-fics · 3 years

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How to Exploit Kindness [A New Kind of Lila Salt Prompt]

[ Ive seen Lila and Class salt that goes a lot of different ways. In some Lilas a sad lonely girl who will do anything for friends and the class fall for her lies through a mixture of manipulation and Lila’s genuine sad lonely but real persona. In others Lila is insane and the class get basically sucked into her cult. And in others still, Lila slowly breaks the class down by preying on there insecurities, hidden jealousies ect. There are the versions where Lila just bribes the class with connections and the versions where Lila frames Marinette until no one believes her. But I wanted to write a new idea for people to use, one that I feel is a bit more realistic. One where Marinette’s classmates are more their more authentic kind selves but still get slowly pulled into Lila’s web and where Lila is just a bit more intelligent. ]

[ As usual with all my prompts feel free to borrow the idea to write for your own thing salt, sugar, cuteness angst ect just be sure to credit me for the idea so I can read it. ]

Lila was furious! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! She was supposed to be everyone's friend! She was supposed to finally get a cute perfect boyfriend who would cherish her like she deserved! She was supposed to be HAPPY! But no, the pathetic beetle Ladybug and that goody two shoes Marinette kept ruining everything!

No… No that wasn’t quite true. As much as she wanted to blame her problems on those two it wasn’t entirely their faults. Honestly Lila wasn’t quite sure what had happened. Her lies had been working at first, they had gotten her praise and compliments and adoration and friendship! But now? Now they were all ignoring her, unimpressed by her celeb lies! She could not understand it! At first she’d been sure it was Marinette or Ladybug maybe even Adrien had turned on her! But when she’d probed for information she’d learned that none of them had blown the whistle. So what was it! Tomorrow… Tomorrow she will find out one way or another. She needed to get them back under her thumb somehow.

It was Chloe who gave Lila her answers. Chloe was the reason none of her classmates cared about her stories! Chloe was the idiot mayor's brat. And what a brat she was constantly wiggling her way into her mothers fashion shoots or had celebrities over at the hotel. Of course Lila’s classmates didn’t care about Lila’s celebrity connections because Chloe was always name dropping just as many people as herself. The only difference was Lila used fake modesty and shyness that made her ‘friends’ view her lies in less of a gloating light than Chloe’s haughty claims of celebrity meetings.

It was a damn shame, celebrity lies were her bread and butter, they were exciting got people to think you were important and they were hard to prove or disprove allowing Lila to easily get around the messy little detail of ‘proof’ if someone asked for pictures all she could say was that her mom didn't let her take any because she didn't want her precious daughter being targeted by crazy fans. And if someone asked her to use her celebrity connections? Well she could just turn on the water works and cry about them just being her friend for her connections. Thus her prey would be forced to be her ‘friend’ , always listening to her and doing things for her, unable to ask for anything in return. Then when her mother announced their next move Lila would tearfully say goodbye and leave all her suckers behind. But without the sway of her celebrity lies her system broke down. That was the problem with picking the school full of rich talented idiots she supposed.

Well with Chloe ruining her system she’d need a new one. Scrolling through her classmates' social media for a clue she sneered at their overly cheerful and cutesy posts. Always encouraging one another and posting encouraging puff pieces about this or that. Always acting like they were so nice. As Lila scrolled over a charity fundraiser event that Alya had retweeted from Milene a sudden thought crossed her mind. Her classmates were very ‘nice’ and annoyingly so. They were always butting into each other's business, always being SO concerned, always organizing events to help each other and appreciate each other and going to charity events.

In fact now that she thought about it the stories that had intrigued her ‘friends’ always had some sort of charity garbage attached. Saving Jagged’s kitten or raising money for some cause or other that always got her heaps of praise. Sure saying Clara whatshername stole her dance moves got attention but not in the same way saying she raised money for some green project. Was it really that simple? Sure her classmates all loved Marinette for her extreme generosity and kindness but was it REALLY that simple? She needed to check.

It was actually that easy. One simple little lie about how she pulled a blind old man out of danger when he was nearly run over and suddenly the class was bathing her in praise. And the ‘fact’ that the whole very real thing made her miss first period and sprain her ankle? Well that was just the cherry on top. Suddenly Max was offering her a copy of his notes and everyone was back to caring for her like she was a princess. The fact that Marinette looked like she was seething only for sweet naive Adrien to keep her mouth shut was just so perfect. She’d found her golden ticket. Her classmates were truly ‘good kind people’ and nothing could be exploited quite like kindness.

With this knowledge Lila would easily be able to destroy Marinette, sure she wouldn’t be able to do it quickly but slowly she would replace her, with every good deed she made up with every act of false modesty she would build a reputation greater than Marinette’s she would replace her and become there new ‘everyday ladybug’ and the best part was she wouldn’t have to say ANYTHING against Marinette. Not. A. Thing. No sweet righteous Marinette would eventually snap, sadly for her it would probably be too late with how much control Adrien had over her, so when it happened Marinette would look like the jealous crazy girl going after the girl that was kinder, sweeter, and better than herself. As for Adrien… Well she had a hard time believing it at first but he really was an idiot with a pretty face as long as she was careful as she built her new reputation he would genuinely believe that she was changing for the better and then he'd fall for her.

The best part was, her classmates were genuine. As she built her new good girl heart of gold persona they would genuinely come to love her, all the loyalty Marinette got to enjoy all the perks of being friends with such talented, kind, sweet people would become hers. Slowly no matter how Marinette struggled she would lose, eventually she’d have nothing left. Of course she’d need to be careful with her lies but that was easy. Bring the class to a charity here and there and tell them that she was the one who gave the idea for the charity to the actual organizer but didn't want any credit because she was just that kind and humble. If they tried to make her do actual work then she’d have a sudden accident that would require she sit down.

And then once she’d done more photoshoots with Adrien for Gabriel she’d ‘convince’ the man that a charity would make him look good and boost sales. She’d MAKE her lies true all while winning over her future father in law, and heck maybe she’d even pocket a little of the money, she could use a better wardrobe and the extra would be perfect to buy her ‘friends’ the occasional ice cream or presents. In between that she’d just lie about saving people or volunteering on weekends. Maybe even let it ‘slip’ how she was a temp hero for Ladybug . One of the sweetest parts was that between volunteering with Lila, there own activities and hanging out with Lila so she could ‘thank them for their hard work’ no one would be spending a second hanging out with sweet pink little Marinette, they'd abandon her without even realizing it because they’d be SO busy. Sadly this plan of hers would take a little more work then her others, but it would be worth it to become the queen bee of the class- NO the school! And when Marinette eventually slipped up and looked like the biggest jealous bully in the school. Well she’d have no choice but to leave the school with her tail in between her legs.

Victory was looking sweet and satisfying.

[ And where it goes from here is up to you. Lila can win, she can slowly convince the class and school that she's a model citizen and an everyday hero. She can sneakily maneuver the class to not spend time with Marinette slowly separating the girl from her friends. In this way Alya and the rest of them don't become evil salty versions of themselves who overnight hate Marinette and love Lila, but rather they are good naive people who got slowly separated and tricked by someone who wants to use their genuine talents and skills to make herself look better. Adrien who is already shown to be naive and wants to believe the best in people, can fall into Lila’s trap and become genuinely convinced that his high road method really worked and ‘reformed’ Lila into a better person. OR Lila can fail, she can claim to be the wrong temporary hero for ladybug, or she can pick the wrong charity to lie about, or get exposed any number of ways and the class can realize with horror that because they are kind but flawed people who are perhaps too trusting and gullible that they got pulled away from Marinette through subtle manipulation and so they can be redeemed because instead of turning into outright bullies they stayed the same kind people they always were but just got genuinely tricked which is something that can actually happen in real life. You can go heavy salt where Marinette does eventually leave the school or class heartbroken that her kind friends have fallen prey to a bad person Marinette cant find a way to expose. Or you can go clever salt where Marinette figures out Lila’s plan and fights her from the inside slowly exposing the cracks in her facade. Or you can go sugar and redemption where maybe just maybe Lila actually LIKES being nice to people and having real friends who dont care about her fake celeb connections, maybe she honestly redeems herself and even makes amends with Marinette. You can do genuinely anything with this idea and I hope to see this generate some new less *and suddenly everyone is evil* content for those that like salt and angst. ]

#my writing #ml salt #lila salt #lila salt prompt #now technically there isnt any actual class salt or adrien salt in here because its more of a prompt but to be safe il tag it anyway #adrien salt #class salt #ml salt prompt

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deus-ex-mona · 2 years

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DANCE BATTLE!!: Epilogue

get his kneecaps, meggle

previous part (chapter 7)

A few days after the dance battle—

MEGU: Hey, so, all that talk about looking over their designs went poof, right?

DAI: Yeah. IV put a stop to it after hearing what happened.

IV: Regarding this incident… It was my fault for not having a good grasp of the situation before asking you to hear Aizo out.

IV: DAI, there’s no need for you to look over LIPxLIP’s costume designs.

IV: It’d be more meaningful if the two of them came up with their designs by themselves through trial and error, right?

IV: We shouldn’t interfere with that.

IV: We know our SICKS well, but—

IV: We don’t understand a single thing about LIPxLIP’s fans, after all.

DAI: Well, I get where IV’s coming from, though.

MEGU: But it’s still kind of a letdown, riiight?

MEGU: Oh well, it’s not like we have a choice! We’ll just do what we can! Let’s dance with all we’ve got!

As DAI made an attempt at dancing the choreography that he had been unable to get the hang of on a previous occasion, MEGU, who was watching him dance, let out a shout.

MEGU: DAI, your dancing has suddenly gotten better!

DAI: Eh… for real?

MEGU: Yup! It was already good before, but somehow…

MEGU: It’s gotten even better!

DAI: (All he’s telling me is that it’s good, though.)

With a wry smile stretched across his lips, DAI found himself recalling the day of the dance battle.

DAI: (If something has changed, it’s probably due to—)

Aizo: DAI!

DAI: Aizo… What’s up? Weren’t you on your way out?

Aizo: Yeah, but I realised that I’d forgotten to thank you for today.

Aizo: Um… I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused. But…

Aizo: I’m really glad to have had the chance to watch you dance up close today!

Aizo: I know that LIPxLIP and FT4 dance with different styles, but I especially love those performances of yours, wherein you use your entire body as you move.

Aizo: The way the intensity of your movements changed when you occasionally relaxed your body was super cool!

Aizo: Yujiro and I were talking about it earlier.

Aizo: We were only able to learn from you guys for a short time, but…

Aizo: FT4 really is amazing.

Aizo: That’s why we feel that we need to work even harder too.

DAI: (It sure has been a long time since… the last time someone had expressed their thoughts to me with such excitement.)

DAI: (Well, I think that it’s just a given that our performances are amazing, though…)

DAI: That dance battle sure made for a great breather, no?

DAI: Things like that are a necessity every once in a while, yeah?

DAI: It’s just as MEGU said… The intensity of my movements are really important too.

MEGU: Eh? What was that? Did you just praise me?

DAI: I wasn’t praising you. Just hurry up and change, so that you can get to practising already!

MEGU: Ehh! How come?! I’m the kind of guy who experiences growth upon being praised, y’know? Do you get me, DAI?

DAI: When you say “experience growth”, are you talking in terms of height? I think it’s already too late for you, though?

MEGU: Ah! Did you seriously just make fun of me?! That’s absolutely unforgivable!

DAI: Hey… You idiot! Stop your leg right there!

DAI: Don’t kick me! Oi!

#my name is dai. i like to dance.#just honeypre things #fedora translations4 #tl;dr: the titular dance battle was absolutely pointless lmaooooo #also disclaimer: i messed up in chapter 1 when i somehow mistook 'intensity of (dai's) movements for 'dynamics of the music'#idk how i managed to mess up that badly (maybe it was quarantine idk) but it's changed now!!!! i'm so sorry!!!!!!

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

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Prisoner's Game Pt. 3 (Rowaelin)

~Aelin~

There was something decidedly pleasant about sneaking out of prison.

It was the thrill, she supposed.

She'd always been a bit of an adrenaline junky, and there was nothing that matched up to the excitement of breaking out of a maximum security prison with no one being the wiser.

Aelin ran through the tunnel, her steps sure and soundless, a smile blooming on her face. What she was doing shouldn't give her such joy, but along with being a thrill seeker, she'd always been just a little bit vindictive.

Or maybe a lot.

The map of the tunnels was still crystal clear after all this time, and she had it memorized down to the number of steps it took to get to the right turn.

It was a three hour run. Two underground, then one through the city out into the suburbs.

While the first two hours were definitely not fun, it was the last hour that was tricky.

Avoiding cameras, not drawing any unwanted attention, dressing so no one could see her face without looking too much like the criminal she was.

It was also more exhausting.

It was an hour of sprinting across rooftops, sprinting through town, then sprinting some more.

It was a little funny to her that the journey to where she needed to go was more difficult than actually breaking into the building.

She had a set of scrubs stored in a nearby lockbox, along with a wig and a few prosthetics to make her look more like Ansel, one of the nurses working the night shift.

The security guard, Shelly, was prone to reading romance novels during her shift and never questioned why she occasionally thought she saw two of the same person wandering around.

It was no different tonight.

Once she had everything in place, Aelin strode confidently through the halls, grabbing charts and nodding like she knew what the hell she was looking at.

No one stopped her, no one questioned her.

When she got to the room and chart she wanted, she slipped inside soundlessly and crept up to the bed.

Despite the ever-present urge to hurry things along, she stuck to her plan and kept the dose the same.

The person on the bed never woke up, never noticed her slip an extra drug into the IV bag hanging on the wall.

Silent, efficient, traceless.

Just like she'd been taught.

Leaving was even easier than entering.

She waited until real-Ansel had been out of the guard's sight for a while, then walked out the back door of the facility like she hadn't just committed a felony.

One of the few crimes she actually deserved to be in prison for, ironically.

Then she ran back, hiding in the traffic camera's blind spots and ditching the wig along the way.

It was a little stupid and drawn out to do it this way, not to mention unbelievably cruel, but Aelin had always had a flair for the dramatic.

Plus, like she said: exciting.

~Rowan~

Doubt is a strange emotion.

It starts small, so small you hardly even realize it's there.

And then, over time, it grows and grows like a fungus, eventually becoming something that you think about all the time. Something that kills you.

Rowan didn't believe in doubt.

His problem had never been with not believing in himself, it'd always been with the opposite affliction: over-conviction.

He believed things so fully, so deeply, it was hard to see it any other way.

It was what made him such a good lawyer. As the top public prosecutor in the city, he had a reputation for being impossible to win against.

He convinced himself of the defendant's guilt so completely, the jury had almost no option but to believe him.

He hadn't always been that way, he didn't think. Argumentative and stubborn, sure. His mother could attest to that. But never so unflinchingly self-assured. So alright with deceiving himself if need be.

If he had to guess, he'd say it'd started two months after the day of Aelin's trial.

He hadn't been lying to her four days ago; every word had been the truth. He'd worked his ass off all those years ago, trying to find something that would help him either clear her name or at least fucking sleep at night.

He'd given himself a timeline, deciding that if he couldn't find a single lead in two months, there probably wasn't one. Two months, and then he'd let it go.

He didn't regret stopping his hunt--he'd seen what an obsession could do to someone.

And when that day had come, he'd thought he was ready. He'd exhausted himself working both her case and the ones he was assigned, burning the candle at both ends and sleeping in the office more nights than his own bed.

There'd been nothing to be found. The evidence, the testimonies, the medical examiner's reports... they'd all pointed to Aelin.

So eventually he'd forced himself to stop looking.

But the sight of her swinging between the two court police officers, fighting for just one more second with him with a desperation he'd never seen from her... he hadn't known how he could just forget something like that.

The image followed him, haunted him. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw hers. Lined with tears and disbelief and so much hurt he felt like invisible hands were wrapped around his neck.

So he'd hardened himself against it.

He'd repeated the pieces of evidence against her, told himself she was guilty until the words were easy to say, forced himself to visualize the crime scenes of her victims whenever he thought of her.

Piece by piece, he'd swapped out the months of positive memories they had with stone cold facts.

And it had worked.

After a month, he could sleep again. After a year, he hardly thought of her and when he did, it was with disgust.

Yet now, over eight years later, he found himself with just the slightest amount of doubt again.

It was the same nagging, incessant feeling he hadn't been able to shake eight years ago. Back for round two, apparently.

At first, he'd played it off as nerves from their conversation. She'd worked him up so much he'd admitted how much he'd once loved her and said things he shouldn't have.

His body was reacting to the sadness in her eyes, the surprise that had bloomed when he'd told her he'd fought for her. It was emotion, nothing based in logic, that made him want to start looking again.

At least that's what he told himself.

But four days later, he found himself on the couch--he really did need to give up and just buy a new bed--staring at the ceiling, trying to sleep and not being able to.

Because... well because what if she was telling the truth?

Why else would she have told him that story?

What had he missed during all those late nights spent hunched over her folder?

The questions grew and grew, until that once-little shard of doubt started to slowly drive him mad.

The uncertainty, no matter how small it had begun, had grown to be almost irritatingly large and unavoidable.

He couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said. The breadcrumbs that apparently only he could find.

What did that mean?

And why couldn't he just let it go?

"Fuck!" he yelled, throwing his blanket off and storming to the closet.

Like a love-struck idiot, he'd kept a box full of the stuff she'd left at his apartment during their relationship. The stuff that wasn't evidence, at least.

If it was something only he could find like she'd said, it was probably something only he had access to.

He dropped the box on his kitchen table and opened the lid.

Then cursed when the first thing he saw was a pair of red lace underwear. That was the last thing he needed to be thinking about and remembering.

Especially when he'd barely been able to resist the temptation to kiss her in that interrogation room.

Something about the way she'd looked at him after he'd told her he'd fought for her all those years ago had rattled the grip he had on his control hard.

She'd seemed so... sad. So hopeless. It had brought out the urge to comfort her in whatever way he could.

Hearing about her childhood and how she'd been raised by Arobynn Hamel hadn't made it any better. Truthfully, it'd broken something inside of him.

She'd always been so positive around him--a ray of light he'd felt was put on this earth just for him.

And all the while, she'd been forced to live with and work for one of the most notorious crime syndicate members of all time.

He'd always known she hadn't had a good childhood, but there was a difference between foster care hell and an actual house of horrors. Rowan couldn't even imagine the things she'd seen. Been forced to see, to do.

She made it out, he reminded himself, taking a deep breath.

But had she?

If what she'd told him was true, she'd killed those people because she'd been forced to.

It hadn't been her choice.

But there was something else about her, something he couldn't stop thinking about.

The secret she'd eluded to, the one that apparently only he had the key to solving.

A secret she'd promised would explain everything.

He tossed the underwear on the table, vowing to ignore them.

Then threw them in the trash a minute later when that became impossible.

You're such an asshole, he told himself, shaking his head. It's been eight years.

Even if that part of their relationship was most definitely memorable.

"Jesus," he laughed, running a hand over his face. Why was he even thinking about that?

Maybe it was the look in her eyes four days ago, or maybe it was simply that Aelin had been an important part of his life. He'd never forget the connection they'd had. Maybe it would always be a part of him.

But that was ridiculous, because he'd been connected to plenty of women since. Plenty of gorgeous brunettes and redheads.

For some reason, he hadn't been able to date a blonde, but that didn't mean anything.

He was over her.

Obviously.

Forcing his thoughts away from Aelin, he grabbed the next thing in the box.

Her address book. Maybe she'd left a note in there?

He flipped it open, scrolling through blank page after blank page. Her cousin's address and phone number were there--both of which he confirmed with police records--but other than that, it was blank.

The next thing he found made the ache in his chest expand to a soul-sucking hole.

It was a travel brochure for Aruba.

The edges were frayed from how much she'd flipped through it, and notes in her handwriting were scribbled throughout the pages.

He remembered this, all right.

He'd woken up one morning, a morning that seemed like a lifetime ago, to find her laying on top of him, leafing through the travel pamphlet with a huge grin on her face.

"We're going to Aruba," she'd whispered in lieu of a greeting, leaning down to press her lips to his.

"Why?" he'd asked back between kisses.

"Because it's the perfect place to hide from your real life," had been her laughed response.

She'd planned a trip for them at Christmas. Their very first trip together.

Every time they saw each other, she'd shown him a new page or told him about a new activity she wanted to do.

In general, she was a happy, excited person, but he'd never seen her so thrilled over anything like she was that trip.

He'd hidden it better, trying to play it cool, but he'd been excited, too.

He'd pictured her on the beach, running in the sand and smiling and laughing and drinking from a coconut. He'd imagined sneaking to the beach one night and making love to her in the ocean.

He'd imagined getting down on one knee and asking her to be his travel partner for life.

She'd been arrested two weeks before they were supposed to leave.

He tossed the little magazine back into the box, shaking his head to clear it of the memories and long-lost dreams.

The only thing left in the worn box was books.

Aelin had volunteered at a publishing house, trying to get hired as a fiction editor, and she'd always had a book in her ridiculously heavy pocket book.

She'd given him a few of her favorites, claiming that if he ever wanted to know the "real her," he had to read them.

A statement that made a lot more sense now than it used to.

He grabbed the one on top and leafed through it, going through the pages and scanning.

When that didn't yield anything, he flipped to the back of the book and looked at the inscription she'd written him.

March 1

Rowan,

I know you're not a fan of fiction, let alone romantic, feminist fiction, but I hope you'll read this and fall in love with Elizabeth's character like I did.

Aelin

He turned the book over and looked at the front again, then flipped through it again, then went through the whole process again.

Why did he feel like something about this didn't add up? And why was this, of all things, what she'd left as a breadcrumb?

He didn't figure it out until he reread the inscription for the fifth time and realized the date she'd written.

March 1st.

It was wrong; she'd given him this book on his birthday in February. He remembered because he'd laughed about her giving a grown man a romance novel for his birthday.

Why had she put March 1st? And why did that date stand out in his mind?

Stomach dropping, he finally figured out why that date was so important. It was the date of the first murder.

Maddison Kliff, a state senator who controversially wanted to fund renewable energy in the upcoming year, had been murdered the morning of March 1st eight years ago.

Breadcrumb.

He grabbed the next book from the stack, Wuthering Heights, and flipped to the end.

Almost the exact same inscription, except the date was April 13th, and the inspiring character was Linton Heathcliff.

April 13th was the day another victim died.

Rowan's heart started pounding, so hard he thought he was going to either pass out or go into cardiac arrest.

What was the connection between these dates, characters, and victims? Rowan could feel it in his gut that this was what she'd been talking about. It had to be.

He flipped through the books again, looking for something else, but there was nothing there. Nothing was underlined or highlighted, and the books were all in brand-new condition, no pages were bookmarked.

"What are you trying to tell me, Aelin?" he whispered, rubbing at his temples.

He made a list of all the dates and characters, stared at it until he thought he'd go blind, and tried to think like her.

Except her mind was a complex puzzle he'd never quite solved, so that didn't give him anything besides a headache.

He looked in the box again, hoping to magically find another note or something that explained everything in simple, idiot-proof terms.

But all that was there was that damn Aruba magazine.

It's the perfect place to hide from your real life.

The words came rushing back to him, so suddenly and violently it was like his subconscious had been shouting it for a while.

Was that it?

Maybe the connection wasn't only between the dates and characters, but it also had something to do with Aruba.

Maybe that was where this secret, whatever it was, was hiding.

Knowing he was probably grasping at straws, Rowan grabbed his phone and called the one person who'd help him.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I need a favor, Gavriel."

He heard a heavy sigh. "Like a we've been friends for twenty years favor or like an I'm the Chief of Police favor?"

"The latter," Rowan answered.

"Dammit, Rowan, you're going to get me fired one day." That was what he said every time. There was a long pause, then, "What do you need?"

"Flight manifests from Rifthold to Aruba from ten different days eight years ago."

Gavriel caught on quickly. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a former flame of yours, would it? One currently serving time for ten murders from eight years ago?"

"Of course not," he lied, knowing he was busted.

Another sigh. "You need to let this go, kid."

Rowan ran a hand over his face, knowing that wasn't possible. Not when, for the first time since he'd been assigned this God forbidden case, he had a lead.

"Can you help me or not?"

"I will, as long as you promise to drop it once whatever you're chasing ends up to be yet another dead end."

Knowing he didn't have another choice, Rowan agreed.

Gavriel told him he'd send them over, then said softly, "I know you loved her, Rowan, but it's time to move on."

It's not that easy, he thought, thinking once again of Aelin sitting in that tiny cell, skin pale and hair too long.

"Thanks for your help," he said instead, hanging up before the lecture could continue.

A few minutes later, he was printing out the passenger lists from all the Rifthold to Aruba flights on each of the ten dates.

Starting with August 1st, he went through, passenger by passenger, and looked for an Elizabeth.

There'd been three direct flights to Aruba that day, so by the time he found it, his eyes were so tired he almost missed it entirely.

But there was a name that stuck out, one that was straight out of his copy of Pride and Prejudice.

Seat 14C had been occupied by Elizabeth Darcy, and she'd flown directly from Rifthold to Aruba on August 1st.

Rowan's jaw damn near hit the floor.

His hands shook as he highlighted the name, writing the victim's name next to it to keep it straight in his head.

His mind whirled with possible explanations, but he didn't let himself think about anything except the next date.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, he went through the passenger list for April 13th.

And sure enough, Linton Heathcliff was on one of the flights. In the same damn seat.

"Holy fuck," he whispered, grabbing the next sheet of paper.

He went date by date, flight by flight, and by the time he'd located every character, he was sure of what he'd found. What she'd left for him.

It wasn't a breadcrumb, it was the whole goddamn loaf.

Rowan barely made it to the kitchen sink before his stomach emptied as an explanation of what had really happened eight years ago started to form in his mind.

He didn't have all the pieces, but the ones he did have made him literally sick to think about.

Her insistence on being innocent, her begging him to look again, telling him only he could find the clues... it all made sense.

The doubt he'd been struggling with for eight long years suddenly disappeared, replaced by a certainty so swift and thorough and all encompassing, it almost took his breath away.

She hadn't been lying.

She hadn't killed those ten people.

She couldn't have, because...

"They're still alive."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dun dun duuuuun

part 4 out next Friday (sorry for the slow updates I'm in summer school)

@audreycressworth @whimsicallyreading @onceupona-chaos @lil-unoriginal-weirdo-273sole @surielandiareendgame @captain-swan-is-endgame @poisonous00 @vasudharaghavan @sailorsassley @endlessdaydream @swankii-art-teacher @beanco8 @stokingthemidnightflame @mis-lil-red @ladyfireheart-and-buzzard @sheharahu @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @jorjy-jo @court-of-dreams-and-ashes @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @loudphantomdragon @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitehorn #rowan x aelin #aelin galythinius #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fandom

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darthkruge · 4 years

Text

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Help

Summary: The five times the Senator!Reader needs Anakin’s help but refuses to ask for it and the one time they do

Warnings: Language, reader is afraid of vulnerability, reader is going through it, angst, violence, fluff (it ends on a positive note, I promise)

Words: 4k

A/N: This idea has kinda been bouncing around my head for a hot minute and I finally decided to just go ahead and write it. And somehow it became the longest fic I’ve ever written! Is this self-indulgent? Who’s to say?!

(not my gif)

Okay, so a right, then a left, then another left, then-

You groaned. You’d been going over the cryptic instructions Padme gave you back at the temple but they were, unfortunately, not helping. It was your first time alone in Coruscant and you were completely lost in the painfully literal sense. You had just been given your first actual mission with the Council as a senator, something you’d worked your entire career for. As an added bonus, you were on the same planet as your boyfriend, Anakin Skywalker.

You’d gotten close over the last year and were elated when he asked you on a date the last time you were in the same place. This was the first time you were together in the two weeks it had been since then.

Anyway, you were currently wandering around the bustling Coruscant streets, looking for the market. Well, you were looking for the market. Now, you realized you would probably never find it and were just trying to make your way back.

You debated calling Anakin. You could. He would be able to guide you home easily, you rationalized. But it’s Coruscant! How difficult could it be? If people came here for missions all the time and didn’t get hopelessly lost, so could you! And Anakin was probably busy anyway, you didn’t want to disturb him. Besides, the relationship was so new! You didn’t want to annoy him. After weighing the odds, you pushed down the urge to reach out and decided to just find your own way.

This logic was ridiculous, you realized far too late. Fuck. There was no way around it, you were going to be late. Or at the very least, cut it exceptionally close. You started running, heart racing. It would be so stupid to be late to your first actual Council meeting because you got lost. You wanted them to take you seriously and think of you as a professional. Tardiness as a first impression went against all of that!

After sprinting and taking several aimless turns, by some stroke of magic you found your way to the Temple. You checked the time and realized you had two minutes to make it to up several flights of stairs.

Fuck it. You decided, taking off in a run. You took the stairs two at a time, stumbling occasionally before unceremoniously bursting through the doors to the meeting.

You gulped in air quickly, chest heaving while you desperately tried to calm your heart. You inelegantly brushed a hand through your hair and gave an awkward smile.

“Hi, uh, everyone! Hi! I’m,” You took a quick break to breathe in some more oxygen as your gaze shifted to Anakin. He looked amused and concerned as he took you in. He gave you a discreet and supportive smile and head nod. You gave your own in return. He believes in me. “I’m Senator Y/N L/N”

II.

Honestly, you didn’t know how your speeder had broken. You’d been flying them for years and, despite being a senator, you were pretty damn good at it. It was something that gave you solace as a kid, those little moments of freedom. Even then, though, you were a decently cautious person and didn’t break many of them.

Thus, you ended up in your current predicament. Staring at the fried wires under the hood of your speeder, trying to figure out what the fuck went wrong. You knew Anakin was freakishly talented at fixing basically everything. He could probably look at the speeder for 10 minutes, know what’s wrong with it, and get it back to you in perfect shape.

You think this is why you don’t want to tell him. What if he thought you were stupid? Shouldn’t you be able to figure this out yourself? You fought with your instincts, feeling the conflict build inside you.

You knew he wouldn’t judge you. You knew he’d be glad you came to him for help. Even so, you felt physically incapable of moving to call or find him.

Frustrated, you turned back to your work. You decided to pull this one gear, thinking it might do something. Well, you were right about that. A stream of oil sprayed out of the speeder, coating you in its thick, black paint. You stood there frozen for a second, trying to mentally comprehend that you had just been sprayed with oil because you were too afraid to talk to the man you were in a literal relationship with!!

You groaned, wiping your hands on your pants before grabbing a towel to wipe some of the grease off your face. You walked back into your apartment quickly, praying to the Maker that no one would see you like this. Honestly, they’d probably smell you first and run the other way.

You finally got back without problems and made a bee-line straight to the bathroom. Pulling off your clothes and turning on the hot shower, you sighed as you finally felt the oil washed off your skin. You spent about twenty minutes in there, scrubbing furiously to ensure you didn’t smell like a fucking garage.

Finally, you went out and saw Anakin sitting on your bed, messing with a piece of wiring.

“Hey, Y/N! Did you know your speeder was broken? It looks like you blew a cable, easy fix, don’t worry. I’ll have it ready for you by tonight.”

He looked up and saw your exhausted state and the clump of dirty, grease ridden clothes you were holding.

His brow furrowed, trying to piece it together. “Maker, what happened to you?”

“I had a fight with the speeder. And lost”

Anakin bit back a laugh before his confusion compounded. “Wait, you know I can fix this, right? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was an idiot. I mean, I did something and broke an entire speeder and somehow didn’t even know what I broke! It’s humiliating!”

“Cables are hard, it’s not your fault you didn’t know what to do, love.”

“Really?” You asked, unconvinced.

“Really. Come on, let’s go throw those clothes in the wash and I’ll get back to fixing this.”

“Oh, no, Ani you don’t have to-”

Anakin cut you off with a kiss, distracting you enough to quickly take the clothes from your hands.

“I’ll have it ready within the hour, my love.”

III.

Who the fuck decided to put the plates that high up?!

You jumped again and again, arm outstretched as far as possible. Once again, you didn’t even get close. Sighing, you looked around the apartment and noticed a ladder. It looked a bit unsteady but you would be fine, right? You were a whole ass senator, you were sure you could handle an old ladder.

Pulling it over to you, you climbed up and reached out. Much closer this time, but you still couldn’t reach them. You went on your tiptoes, eyebrows furrowed and lip bit in concentration. You angled your body just a little further, a little further-

The ladder was suddenly ripped out from under you and you desperately shot your arms out, hands clawing to try and stop your imminent fall onto the hard kitchen tiles. Bracing yourself for the inevitable pain, you squeezed your eyes closed.

“Y/N!!” You heard as your fall suddenly stopped. You opened your eyes and noticed you were barely floating above the floor. Anakin ran toward you and noticed the ladder strewn on the floor beside you.

“What the hell were you doing?” He said, offering you his hand and pulling you up.

“I was just-” You gesture lamely to the plates, realizing how ridiculous you must look.

“Y/N, no one can reach those! Next time, just call me, I’ll get them for you!”

“But-” You sigh, hating this. “I wanted to be able to do this, I don’t want to rely on you and your Jedi powers all the time”

Anakin’s gaze softened. He knew you had trouble relying on others. Even so, he couldn’t even start to think of what would have happened if he’d arrived home even 10 seconds later.

“I know, baby, I know. But, please, try. You’d have to rely on me a lot more if you break your legs falling off a ladder.”

“I know” You reply softly, giving him a shy smile. “I’m working on it, I promise”

IV.

You’d been up all night working on a new presentation for the Council. You’d spent hours going over it, the facts, the plans, the details. Everything was set. Well, everything except one little piece. To make your point stronger, you needed the statistics from the latest Jedi missions.

The only people with access to those were Anakin and Obi-Wan. You knew, logically, that if you asked Anakin he’d give them to you without hesitation. He supported you always and knew that you only used your power as a senator to improve lives.

Even so, there was that part of your brain that told you he wouldn’t give them to you. He would think you’re just trying to use him for his connections as a Jedi. Or perhaps he simply wouldn’t care enough to search through the reports to find the information.

All of this was, of course, completely inaccurate. But you’d never had someone who actually wanted to help you. It's always been “okay I’ll do this for you but only if you do this for me, too.” No one ever looked out for you and you’d grown accustomed to it. It’d become almost comforting, in a way. At least you knew what to expect.

This was how you ended up seeing your beautiful boyfriend across the halls of the Jedi temple and walking another way. Your heart tugged painfully and your brain screamed at you. Why don’t you allow yourself to trust him? Why would you assume the worst? Why can’t you fight these thoughts?

You took one more look back at him. You didn’t want to be closed off by any stretch of the imagination. You wished you could turn off the thoughts and the doubt. You knew Ani didn’t deserve it. You sighed. There he was, training by himself in the courtyard. You looked away and took a moment to compose yourself before your legs carried you away and toward your good friend.

“Hey, Obi-Wan, could you help me with something for the next Council meeting?”

You were running. You were running and as fast as you moved, you never got closer to him. You were never safe. A masked figure was chasing you and you just couldn’t get away. Your legs burned with the effort, your lungs straining to grasp oxygen. You were exhausted to your core, your sheer panic the only thing keeping you awake.

You looked back and saw the man gaining on you. Tears started streaming down your cheeks. You knew what he was capable of and had no doubt he would kill you if he caught you. You didn’t want to die, not like this. You didn’t want him to beat you. You were so, so scared. You screamed as he caught up to you, your body no longer moving. You pleaded with your legs to work, reasoned with the heavens, did anything you could, and yet you wouldn’t budge.

The stranger’s claw of a hand twisted around your neck, squeezing. You fought. It was pointless. You began to black out, feeling the life slip out of your body. Dark spots appeared in the corners of your vision and you tried once again to kick your way out of his grasp-

You bolted awake, eyes shooting open. Your chest was heaving and tear stains marked your cheeks. You placed your hands on the bed sheets, bunching them up and trying to feel the texture to remind yourself that you were safe. You tried to breathe, tried to calm yourself but nothing was working.

You got up, pacing quietly. Out of all the nights to have a nightmare, it had to be today. The one night you and Anakin weren’t together. Since you had to hide the relationship, you couldn’t technically share an apartment. This didn’t stop you from spending basically every night together, though. His chambers became yours after the first month or so of dating, neither of you wanting to spend time apart.

But, unfortunately, the Council seemed more cautious as of late and you didn’t want to risk it. Thus, you decided to spend tonight apart. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to care right now. You grabbed one of his Jedi robes, pulling the black fabric around your body. You were immediately calmed by his scent and wrapped it closer around you. You started to make your way down the hall. You knew it was risky but after that nightmare, you just needed him.

You made it to his apartment, went to knock on the door, and abruptly stopped. What are you doing? You can’t just go to him! He’s exhausted, he’s been working all week! He finally got home from a mission and you want to wake him up in the middle of the night because you had a nightmare? It wasn’t even real! Maker, get a hold of yourself, Y/N!

Your hand hovered over the door. You wanted him, you did. But those lingering thoughts, those lingering emotions remained. A childhood of neglect, of constant feelings of unimportance left scars you couldn’t avoid. You hated that your parent’s inability to show you affection or care manifested in your inability to be vulnerable. Despite this, you somehow understood. You’d spent years letting them in and only getting invalidated in return. Like all patterns, this one wouldn’t go away just because you wanted it to.

Now, every time you tried to let Anakin in, it’s like an alarm was tripped in your brain. Every part of you that wanted to allow him to know you was combated with the overwhelming fear that, if you did, if you went to him for comfort or help, he would think of you as a burden. He’d leave, just like the rest of them did. So you pushed the urge for comfort aside, dropped your hand, and made the lonely walk back to your room.

You got back to your room, mentally beating yourself up. You wished your brain worked differently. You wished you would allow yourself to be loved. You wished you could trust, fully and completely. You sighed. Knowing you wouldn’t be getting any sleep, you made yourself a cup of tea and sat on your cough, the room solely illuminated by the moonlight. You kept Anakin’s robes around you, wishing it was his arms. You sat like that until morning, sipping the drink on and off until it grew cold. You were zoned out, staring out the window at the Coruscant traffic. Your thoughts either drifted to him or your past trauma. Maker, you wished you could change it.

Fuck. You’d been driving around on your speeder, zipping in and out of alleys, for the last twenty minutes. There was a bounty hunter after you. A damn good bounty hunter, at that. Being a high profile senator, it made sense you’d run into the occasional person trying to kidnap you. Or kill you.

Damn, this bitch is good. You kept trying to lose them but you couldn’t shake them. You didn’t even know who they were but it didn’t matter, you supposed. At the end of the day, regardless of who was in that speeder, they wanted you dead. And if you didn’t figure out how to get out of this mess, you would be.

They’d been shooting at you for a while now but you’d been able to avoid the blasts. Whether it was skill, luck, or a combination of both, you weren’t sure. Even so, you didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t shoot back at them, as you stupidly forgot your blaster. Who could blame you, though? All you wanted to do was go for a ride to clear your head, you didn’t expect to be fucking shot at!

You continued like this for a while. All you had to do was get back to the Temple. You were probably about 10 minutes away if you continued at this pace, 7 if you really pushed it. You looked ahead and saw the walls of it come into view and suddenly safety didn’t feel so far away. Despite the circumstances, a smile graced your face. You could do this.

Or maybe not. As you tried to swerve between more buildings, they hit you. You felt your speeder plummet 10 feet instantly and screamed. Your engine sputtered and your heart dropped. Mind racing, you tried to drive but came to the chilling realization that there was no way you’d make it back. Your engine was done for, it wouldn’t make it 3 minutes, yet alone all the way back.

Your mind went to him. Anakin. Fuck, you loved him. You let out a humorless laugh. Since you started dating, you almost never asked him for help. You couldn’t let him in. Something in your brain stopped you every single time. And yet, now, all of that felt stupid. It felt juvenile. When you looked at your speeder, slowly but surely stalling and the bounty hunter approaching, you felt this overwhelming sense of clarity.

You were going to die. This person, they would get to your speeder and shoot you. You didn’t have a single weapon. It was inevitable. Your mind, however, wouldn’t relent. It was stuck on him. In this moment, you pressed the comm button in your speeder, hoping beyond hope that it would still work.

“Y/N?” Anakin’s staticky voice cut through the speeder and went straight to your heart.

“Hey, Ani” You said, your voice broken up with unshed tears.

“Y/N? Where are you? What’s happening?”

“I’m- Anakin, I’m in trouble. A bounty hunter is after me, my speeder is hit and going to stop working probably within the next 20 seconds. I don’t have any weapons to defend myself. I, I, uh, I need your help”

“I’m coming to get you, stay where you are.” His voice was firm, his need to protect you overruling everything else in his body.

“I’m just a few-”

“I’ve got you, love. I can sense you in the Force. I know where you are”

Of course he could. You took a few deep breaths and you speeder sputtered out, stopping in a deserted alleyway. You looked around and saw the bounty hunter, now obviously male, stepping out and making his way towards you.

“He’s here, Anakin” Your voice was tight, anxious. You were quiet, paralyzed by fear.

“Please, Y/N, fuck! Hold on, I’m almost there”

“Ani, Anakin I’m scared! Ani! Ani!” You were hysterical now, screaming and sobbing his name as the man punched the top of your speeder, fracturing the glass. He pulled you out of it by the hair and threw you harshly onto the concrete.

You yelped in pain as he kicked you directly in the ribs. He backhanded you across the face, the power from his hit making blood pool in your mouth. Harshly you spit it onto the ground, looking up at him with pure hate.

He placed the blaster to your head, right on your forehead. You let your eyes flutter closed. Your knees were scraped, legs bruised. You were sure at least one of your ribs was broken. You could feel blood running from your temple. Your arm was radiating pain from landing on it. Despite all this, the only thing you thought of was Anakin. Funny, you thought, how the brain chooses what to focus on in its last moments. All you hoped was that he didn’t feel responsible for your death. All you hoped was that he knew you loved him.

“You’re finished, Senator”

“I don’t think so” Anakin’s smooth voice, tight with anger, cut through the air. His lightsaber unsheathed, he swung it directly into the man. You gasped, everything happening so quickly. As soon as the blaster was gone from your forehead, you scrambled back.

Anakin walked up to you but, from the shock, you pulled back even further.

“Hey, hey, it’s me, it’s Anakin, okay? I’m not gonna hurt you”

You whimpered, looking at him and placing a hand on his jacket before harshly jumping into his arms. He gripped you to him, both of you sighing in relief.

“You came for me”

He looked at you like you were insane. “Of course I did! You needed me, you called! I’m always going to be there for you, Y/N. I am always going to show up”

“Thank you” You said, voice muffled against his chest. His hands raked through your hair while you just breathed him in. His scent comforted you, his strong chest and large arms grounding you after a day so intense and horrifying that nothing felt real.

You were still trembling, the aftershocks quite apparent.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you. You’re safe, he’s dead, he’s gone. No one’s ever gonna hurt you again, I promise.” Anakin whispered these affirmations into your hair, holding you until the shaking ceased.

“Thank you for calling me, Y/N. I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“It wasn’t that hard, to be honest, I- wait? What do you mean, you know it couldn’t have been easy for me?!”

Anakin looked at your sheepishly. “You honestly think I haven’t noticed your problems with asking for help? We’ve been together for almost a year and, contrary to popular belief, I can be quite perceptive. I didn’t want to call you out on it, I assumed you’d be embarrassed. But I’m glad that when it actually came down to life or death, you called me.”

“I’ve always known I could call you, Anakin. Please, I don’t want you to ever think my inability to be vulnerable is rooted to anything you do. You’re, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re kind and compassionate and caring and you’re always looking out for me. Look, I know I haven’t been too open about my past and I still struggle with that. I guess what I’m trying to say is I’ve never had someone who actually wanted to be there for me. This thing where you care and want me to come to you when I’m hurting or simply just want affection or company or help with the little things, it’s foreign to me.”

Ani’s heart broke at your words. “I’m sorry I didn’t know you back then, Y/N. I hate that this” He said, gesturing between you both “is unique to you. But, seriously, anytime you need anything I’m someone you can come to. I honestly want you to come to me. Regardless of if you think it’s something small or this life-altering favor, ask me. I doubt I’d turn you away and, on the off chance I do, I’m not gonna hold that against you.”

“You won’t leave? Even if I show you all of me? Even if I rely on you?”

“I won’t leave you, beautiful. So long as you allow me to show you all of me, too. And you let me rely on you, too.”

Your eyes widened at his words. “Of course! Of course, Ani! I’m here for you, I got you, too, always.”

“I know you do” His flesh hand went up, cupping your cheek.

“I know you do, too.” You sighed into his touch. You were exhausted beyond belief, your body and mind pretty much shutting down from the stress of it all. Even so, you relaxed further into his body. Yeah, this was new. Yes, it was scary. But you were going to try. Even though it terrified you, you wanted to be loved. You wanted to be loved by him.

tagging julia bc she asked when i was textpost-complaining about having to edit this <3

@anakinswhore

#megan writes #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x gn!reader #anakin skywalker x gender neutral reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker angst #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker

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