#this is why people are told to put their own house in order
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
anarchywoofwoof · 3 days ago
Text
every reddit community is being flooded right now with posts about how amazing Joe Biden is and how he is the greatest President in American history and how "he's still got it."
normally, i'd find this kind of odd. because the tone has been drastically different everywhere else since the election loss. but then i found out why there's a sudden explosion of pro-Biden content.
During the 2020 presidential primary, Jill Biden campaigned so extensively across Iowa that she held events in more counties than her husband—a fact her press secretary at the time, Michael LaRosa, touted to a local reporter. His superior in the Biden campaign quickly chided him. As the three rode in a minivan through the state’s cornfields, Anthony Bernal, then a deputy campaign manager and chief of staff to Jill Biden, pressed LaRosa to contact the reporter again and play down any comparison in campaign appearances between Joe Biden, then 77, and his wife, who is eight years his junior. Her energetic schedule only highlighted her husband’s more plodding pace, LaRosa recalls being told. The message from Biden’s team was clear. “The more you talk her up, the more you make him look bad,” LaRosa said. The small correction foreshadowed how Biden’s closest aides and advisers would manage the limitations of the oldest president in U.S. history during his four years in office. To adapt the White House around the needs of a diminished leader, they told visitors to keep meetings focused. Interactions with senior Democratic lawmakers and some cabinet members—including powerful secretaries such as Defense’s Lloyd Austin and Treasury’s Janet Yellen—were infrequent or grew less frequent. Some legislative leaders had a hard time getting the president’s ear at key moments, including ahead of the U.S.’s disastrous pullout from Afghanistan. Senior advisers were often put into roles that some administration officials and lawmakers thought Biden should occupy, with people such as National Security Adviser Jake Sullivan, senior counselor Steve Ricchetti and National Economic Council head Lael Brainard and her predecessor frequently in the position of being go-betweens for the president.  Press aides who compiled packages of news clips for Biden were told by senior staff to exclude negative stories about the president. The president wasn’t talking to his own pollsters as surveys showed him trailing in the 2024 race. 
so it turns out that, after the last year and a half of leftists saying "hey, isn't this guy really fucking old and kind of dying?" and being completely shit on, told to shut the fuck up, sit down and know our place... the guy was indeed dying behind the scenes.
and now, because this story is gaining attention in the mainstream media (CNN ran a segment earlier), reddit has full tilt re-engaged the Biden propaganda machine in order to "preserve his legacy."
throughout the entirety of the Biden presidency, and even before the 2020 election, Biden's cabinet, advisors, spokespersons, campaign staff, etc., abdicated their duty. their lust to remain in power, retain influence and secure gainful future employment in Washington along with their contempt for the average human being (including Palestinians) has effectively doomed us to 4+ years of Republican rule. now, they will go onto lobbying in the private sector and cash in on years of clout accumulated through being a dutiful stooge.
target your anger appropriately. stop blaming the voters. the Democratic party has never and will never care about you or anyone in this country other than their corporate owners.
37 notes · View notes
fandom-imagines-stories · 12 hours ago
Text
Not a Creature Was Stirring
Tumblr media
Declan O’Hara x Reader
Words: 2677
Summary: Christmas at the Priory gets more complicated with Maud can’t make it back from London. As Declan’s girlfriend, you try to step in to still make it a perfect holiday for him and his kids. Needless to say, things don’t exactly go according to plan. 
Notes: With my love for Aidan Turner, you guys had to know Declan would be joining my list of stories eventually! I love him so much and I’m happy to have him as the subject of my Christmas imagine this year. I hope you all have a happy holidays, whatever you celebrate and a wonderful new year! (and if you recognized the Poldark quote I totally stole, no you didn't)
-
T’was two weeks before Christmas and all through the Priory, everyone buzzed with holiday spirit. Patrick and Caitlin were back from school, Taggie was busy making hors d’oeuvres for all of the holiday parties she’d been hired to cater and you were enjoying a book by the fireplace. The only one who seemed unable to enjoy the season was Declan. He stomped about, going through receipts and orders and cards. His brows furrowed and his mustache curved with the harshness of his frown. 
“I can’t make sense of any of this,” he huffed. “Everything from the last ridiculous party she planned and I still don’t know what to do.”
You set your book aside. Even though Declan and Maud were no longer together, you knew her approval still meant a lot to him. That, and now that he was the face of Corinium, he was expected to be a bit of a socialite as well. 
“Why doesn’t she plan it herself?” You asked. 
He hated getting into the details of these things. As long as there were good drinks and decent music, he seemed happy. 
He ran a hand through his dark curls and collapsed onto the sofa beside you. 
“Because she won’t get here until Christmas Eve.” Declan blew out a long, tired breath. “And the kids have been hounding me about having something here for weeks. I think they’re too cooped up. Tired of the house. Tired of me.”
Caitlin had complained more than once about her ongoing boredom. 
You brought your legs up, draping them over his lap as you turned to face him. His hand found your calf, rubbing circles to soothe both you and himself. 
“Why don’t you let me do it?”
“Do what?”
You flicked his arm. “The planning, silly.” 
“You want to plan Maud’s party?” He scoffed. 
“Sure,” you shrugged. “How hard can it be?”
Declan grinned, snickering.
“What?” You asked. 
He just shook his head and kissed your cheek, pulling you closer as he stared into the fire. 
-
He’d tried to warn you. From the moment you volunteered to take over, Declan had told you it was not a task for the faint of heart. Especially since you were convinced the party had to be as extravagant and special as Maud’s would be. He wanted to tell you there was nothing to prove. That you didn’t need to dazzle everybody and put on some grand show. But you seemed excited to help, so he didn’t say anything. Besides, it was nice to focus on his work rather than invitations to people he’d rather not have to see more than he already did. 
Taggie knocked on the door of his office, apron covered with flour. “Have you seen Y/N?”
Declan glanced up from his papers. Bills he couldn’t pay and assignments he didn’t want. 
“She isn’t here?”
Taggie shook her head. “I was going to ask what she wanted me to make for the party.”
They looked at each other for a while until Declan shrugged.
“I have no idea,” he said. “She hasn’t told me anything.” 
“You mean you aren’t helping?” 
Declan scoffed. “I haven’t exactly had time, Taggie.” He put the papers aside. “And she won’t let me.”
“She won’t let you?”
“No. She won’t let me.”
She sighed. “Reminds me of me.” 
Taggie muttered, while it was nice not to be in charge for one, she felt a twinge of guilt thinking of you trying to throw everything together on your own. 
“If you find her, tell her I want to talk to her,” Declan said. 
Taggie snorted. “Right. Talk.”
“Your sister is rubbing off on you,” Declan groaned. "Run off."
Taggie left snickering. 
Declan tried to focus back on his work, but couldn’t. Maybe Taggie was right. Was he expecting too much of you? He wasn’t exactly known for his observation skills when the subject wasn’t an official or celebrity he wanted to tear apart. He didn’t want a whole fuss of a party anyway and now he was letting you bend over backwards to make it happen. He sighed, running a hand down his face. It was too late, of course. Declan knew if he said anything, you would assume you’d done something wrong. 
Your current situation did little to help. Having spent the last two hours haggling over second-hand decorations, you still didn’t have enough for both the entry hall and the dining room, not to mention other areas of the house. Plus, you’d need to repaint most of the wooden tree decorations, patch up the banners, and glue the ceramic snowman back together. The rest was a haphazard collection of string lights, ornaments, and brass angels you bartered for a steal. For you, it was enough. But for the O’Hara’s? For Declan? 
It was hard not to feel cast into a shadow when his ex was who she was. 
“Why couldn’t Maud be a minimalist?” You groaned. Maybe the girls could help you dig up some more decor from storage. Surely they had a snow or two tucked away somewhere. 
Stars… 
Now that gave you an idea. 
-
12 hours. That’s all the time you had left to prep the best Christmas party Declan’s family could have.
No pressure, right?
With the decorations set- you nearly broke your neck putting them up- now all you needed to do was make enough food for all the people you invited. Taggie had offered to help, but you insisted she spend Christmas Eve about town with her siblings. Of course, this left you standing in front of a dozen empty pans and no idea how to fill them. 
“How does she do this?” You muttered to yourself, looking over the recipe for the thousandth time. Mince pies, cranberry tarts, figgy pudding… it all could have been delivered, but making it yourself was cheaper. You knew money was tight, not that Declan would ever admit it. So it would be the best- and most affordable- Christmas party. 
Declan walked into the kitchen just as you were putting the first round of mini pies in the oven. 
“Maud called,” he sighed. He smoothed his wild curls only for them to pop out again. “She can’t make it.”
You almost dropped the pudding. “What?” 
“She can’t come home for Christmas.” He tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but you heard it all the same. “Apparently there’s a big party with lots of directors who might cast her, so she’s staying in London.”
“Oh.” You turned away so he wouldn’t see your face fall. It was silly, really, to be upset. But you hadn’t realized how much you wanted to impress her until now. 
“I’m sorry, love.” Declan came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know how much work you’ve put into all this.”
Secretly, a small part of him was relieved, though it was a shame the kids wouldn’t see their mother on Christmas. 
Your back stiffened against his chest. 
“This is all the more reason to have this magnificent party,” you said, shrugging him away so you could get back to work. “It’ll be good for Patrick and the girls.”
Declan stood to the side, watching fierce determination overtake your features. 
He exhaled, surrendering. “Alright, love.”
-
The kitchen smelled like smoke and blackened fruit. Coughing, you pulled the tray of unsalvageable tarts from the oven and set them aside. You’d been so busy finishing up the decorations that you’d forgotten about them entirely. You opened the window despite the chill to let out some of the black clouds and godawful odor. 
Just half an hour before guests would start arriving and you’d just ruined half of the desserts. Pouring yourself a glass of whatever was closest, you just hoped they’d be content with free liquor after dinner. Maybe they’d get too drunk to care. 
“Are you setting fire to the entire neighborhood, because if so, at least spare my dogs.” A familiar snark sounded from behind you.
“Rupert? What are you doing here this early?” You gasped, wiping your hands on your apron. “Declan hasn’t had enough whiskey to tolerate you yet.”
“Then you should have invited more people,” he teased. Rupert entered the kitchen, leaning on the counter. “Why don’t you have Taggie help you? She’s perfect at this.” The admiration in his voice was hard to miss, but you ignored it.
“Because she deserves to spend Christmas with her family, not stuck in here with me.”
He raised a finger to point out you counted as family, but you interrupted. 
“And what do you mean, invite more people?” You put your hands on your hips. “I invited half of the Cotswolds.” 
Rupert winced. “Yes, well, that explains this then.” He pulled something from his jacket pocket. A stack of filthy, water-stained envelopes. “I didn’t find them til this morning. Postman must have dropped them in the garden when he got chased off by the dogs.” He handed the ruined invitations over. 
You stared at them, a lump forming in your throat.
“You mean… no one is coming?”
“I’m afraid not, darling.” He plucked a not-charred tart from the tray and popped it in his mouth. “But isn’t this better. A more intimate gathering with your mustachioed man?”
You shook your head, running your hand through your hair, breathing starting to pick up.
“Maud is staying in London,” you blurted. “So the family is without their mother for Christmas and I thought I could-”
“Replace her by throwing some ridiculous party?” He chuckled. His face fell, however, when he saw your lip quiver. “Darling, you know no one expects you to be Maud, don’t you?”
You looked away. 
“Nobody wants that.” He stepped forward. “Y/N, I’m sure they don’t. I’m a little relieved she’s not here, to be honest. She was always a bit much.” 
Shaking fingers struggled to untie your apron. You tossed it aside. 
“I have to go.” You hurried for the door, grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter. 
“Y/N-” He started. 
The door slammed shut behind you. 
Rupert watched you go, sighed, and stole another tart. 
-
As the O’Haras piled into the main hall, Caitlin pinched Taggie’s arm, spotting the Minister of Sport coming out of the kitchen. 
“I didn’t know he was coming,” she whispered excitedly, earning a stern glance from their father. 
Taggie gulped. “Neither did I.”
Both watched their father put on a tight smile and approach the other man. 
“Rupert.”
“Declan.” Rupert’s smile was genuine, if not a bit arrogant. “I’m afraid I’ve been the bearer of bad news to your lovely Y/N,” he said. “All her invitations were lost to my flower bushes, left undelivered.”
“So there’s no one coming?” Patrick frowned. He’d hoped to meet some of his father’s good-looking TV hostess coworkers. 
“First mummy, now the whole town. Whatever will we do?” Caitlin said, eying Taggie and scooching her forward. When that didn’t work, she poked her brother. “Patrick scared them off with his terrible poetry.”
Patrick rustled her hair, making her squeak in protest. 
Declan ignored them. He ran a hand down his face and looked around at all you’d set up. You hadn’t even gotten to turn the lights on. 
“She seemed rather upset,” Rupert said, noticing Declan’s concern. “Ran off into the night. Very dramatic.” He leaned forward. “Perhaps you should go find her, hm?” He gave him a knowing look. 
Declan’s heart sank. He knew this wasn’t about the party. Not really. He just wished he’d realized it sooner. And before Rupert Campell-Black.
Starting for the door, he stopped, grabbing Rupert’s arm. 
“Don’t-” He narrowed his eyes, “-touch anything.”
He hurried off.
Rupert turned to the remaining O’Haras. 
“So,” he clapped his hands together. “Who knows where Declan keeps his best scotch?” 
-
He found you sitting on a snowy stump at the edge of the property. Declan watched the deep, shimmering green fabric of your dress sparkle in the moonlight, shifting as you lifted the bottle to your lips. You didn’t seem to see him approaching, eyes trained at the stars. 
“You look-” He sat beside you and kissed your cheek, “beautiful.”
“I don’t feel beautiful,” you muttered, taking another swig. The wine stained your lips a reddish purple but you didn’t care. Nobody would see it anyway. “I failed, Declan.”
“You didn’t fail.”
You scoffed. “The dessert is burnt, the decorations are literally hanging by a thread, and- oh yeah- none of it matters because no one is coming.” You raised your arm for another drink, but Declan grabbed the bottle, bringing it to his lips instead. 
Despite your efforts, your lip trembled. 
“I just wanted your family to have the perfect Christmas,” you said. 
“Is that what you think I care about?” He asked. “The extravagant party? The guests lined up down the pather?” Declan took your hands in his, trying to warm them from the chill. “Y/N, you’ve gotten me to look forward to a holiday for the first time in ages.” He brought your hands up for a lingering kiss. “Just by being you.” 
Your shaking stopped, tears chased away by his soft smile. You snatched the bottle back.
“Flattering will hardly make me feel better, Mr. O’Hara,” you teased. 
He raised a brown and leaned forward. 
“Does this?” He kissed your lips. “Or this?” Your jaw. “Or maybe…” The spot behind your ear. 
“Declan,” you breathed. 
He kept his lips by your ear, whispering. “You don’t have to be any more than you are, to be enough for me.”
Now, your tears returned for a different reason. Throwing your arms around him, you crashed your lips into his, forgetting what you’d been so upset about. Your hands found his hair, tangling those perfect black curls around your fingers. He reached one hand around you to hold you closer while the other rested on your thigh, creeping ever upwards. 
“If nobody is coming, can we start to eat?” Patrick called out over the lawn, making you jolt apart. 
You bit back a laugh, Declan’s face turning pink. “Go ahead!”
“Little bastard couldn’t wait ten more minutes?” Your frustrated boyfriend whined. 
“Ten minutes?” You stood, holding out your hand to help him. 
Declan pinched your upper thigh and scooped you up, both actions eliciting a squeal from your lips as he carried you back. 
-
“Ready?”
“Yes!” They all cheered, impatient.
You giggled, holding the switch captive in your hand. “You don’t look ready.”
“Get on with it, Y/N,” Caitlin whined, “turn them on!”
A chorus of pleas joined her. Declan just laughed, giving you a wide grin.
“You heard them,” he said.
“Alright, alright.”
You flipped the switch. All at once, the main hall lit up, and not just around the tree. Lights strung up above their heads created a canopy of color. Rupert turned on the speakers, filling the space with music. Exclamations of awe and excitement sounded all around you.
“Come on,” Caitlin said, dragging her siblings out to dance with her. Taggie glanced at Rupert, blush flooding her cheeks. He simply motioned for her to go on and dance.
Declan grabbed your hand.
“It’s perfect.” He kissed you deeply, making your knees weak as though he held you up in his embrace.
Caitlin made a teasing sound of disgust, but Taggie couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t think she’d ever seen her father so happy.
Rupert leaned over to you as he strutted to join the others. 
“Told you so,” he whispered. You reached to smack him, but he shimmied out of the way.
“Told you what?” Declan asked. 
You curled a black strand around your finger. 
“That I didn’t have to prove something to be loved by you.”
He pressed a kiss to your palm.
“For once, Rupert and I agree.” He lead you out to dance, swaying slowly despite the cheesy song. 
“Merry Christmas, Declan.” You kissed him again, nuzzling closer. 
“Merry Christmas, my love.”
And so you all spent Christmas dancing to overplayed tunes under flashy, colorful lights. 
And it was perfect.
24 notes · View notes
introvert-in-hiding · 3 days ago
Text
Nothing annoys me as much as my sister. At this point I'm half convinced it's physiological.
"Don't baby me"
Sure then stop acting as if I l'm your legal guardian or something
1 note · View note
alchemistc · 3 months ago
Text
"Evan's not here," Tommy says, and Eddie scowls at him as he pushes past Tommy, already aiming for the kitchen as he hitches the six pack he'd brought with him up under his armpit. It'd been a - a thing. A 'my best friend and my new friend are too busy sucking face to spend every spare moment distracting me from my problems' thing, a thing where Eddie sort of finally understood exactly why Buck had hip checked him on the basketball court months ago. He wants his best friend back. He wants the ease of his friendship with Tommy back.
Which is - Christ, he's selfish, is the thing. A month without Chris there to keep him occupied and Eddie has had some startling realizations about himself. ("You're not selfish, Eddie, you're the most selfless person I know." from Buck and "So fix it," from Tommy, a rare night out with the both of them because he'd headed date night off at the pass by asking Tommy to go out for drinks before he and Buck could make plans without him).
"My world doesn't revolve around Buck," Eddie tells him, and screws the cap off a beer to hand it to Tommy. Tommy's doing that judgmental face he gets when he wants to say something bitchy but hasn't put the words in the right order yet. And - Eddie's not lying. Buck is a fixed point, an ever present life-line, but he's not the fucking sun.
Neither is Chris, apparently, which is news to Eddie and he's - spiralling, still. Quietly, calmly, and he's only punched one hole in the wall on a bad night.
"You ever go to Frank?" Eddie asks, like Frank is the only therapist in the greater LA area, and Tommy rolls his eyes, disappears long enough for the muted sound of the television to go quiet.
When he comes back Eddie's reading the label on his beer bottle
"Apparently I resent you," Eddie says, and Tommy chuffs a laugh.
"Apparently?"
"No, I -." The words had been just as hard two hours ago. This little trip was his own design, he'd been told specifically to sit in it for a while but Christ, an hour a week isn't enough time to talk through his issues and it's not like he can tell Buck he resents him for finding something he's happy and stable and solid in. So. Tommy it is. "You and Buck are good together. I'm happy for you both. I am."
Tommy settles against a countertop with his hip digging into the Formica. His kitchen has gained a dutch oven that looks suspiciously like the one Buck has been showing Eddie for like six months that he couldn't justify the cost of because he's not around enough to use it as much as he'd like.
"I'm not usually the one without his shit together," Eddie says.
"No offense, Eddie, but I thought the whole point of therapy was you realizing you rarely have your shit together."
Also true. He's - usually better at hiding it though. Kim was a joker stacked up on a wobbly house of cards and he'd known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that she'd bring the whole thing tumbling to the ground. Mass casualty event. No survivors.
"You make each other better people," Eddie says, which is the wrong thing to say apparently because Tommy scowls.
"If you wanna completely ignore all the work we've both put into ourselves," he snipes, and - yeah. Fair. Buck's been in therapy for years now. Every once in a while he'll pull something out of his ass that makes Eddie's skin itch - something so mystifyingly self-aware that it makes Eddie want to claw into his chest cavity and rip out his fucking heart. And Tommy - well, he doesn't know much but it's not like Tommy's the paragon of perfection. He's worked through some shit. Is still working through shit, if the aftermath of his and Buck's first real fight is any indication.
"I've never been with someone who makes me want to work on myself," Eddie admits, and the lines around Tommy's eyes shift. He sighs.
"Never gonna find that if you don't want it for yourself."
Yeah. Frank's said as much. It's just - Eddie doesn't have a starting point. Tommy had the whole hiding his true self thing, and Buck had the dead-brother-shitty-parents thing, and he's whittling them both down to the sharp edges of themselves in his mind, which isn't entirely fair but it's easier than trying to confront what the fuck his own problem is. Dead wife, his kid in another state, a contentious relationship with his father, a whole backlog of PTSD he's never really confronted head on. Weird feelings cropping up about a religion he thought he'd left in the dust and sand of Afghanistan and a hole he's been trying to fill up with other people since - well, he doesn't even know since when.
Tommy's got his dog tags laying in the bottom of an empty fruit bowl on his kitchen table. Eddie's never seen them before, and some part of him knows Tommy'd brought them out for a conversation with Buck he'll never hear himself, and he aches. He doesn't want them, but he wants what they have, wants to be able to talk about the difficult shit without closing in on himself, wants to have someone to come home to, wants -
"I spent six months imagining my therapist's head exploding every time she made me talk about something uncomfortable," Tommy tells him, and takes a long drag off his beer. For the first time since he'd knocked on Tommy's door, Eddie actually feels a little bad about interrupting his night, but that just leaves him spiralling some more because Eddie usually feels bad about everything, all the time, so why hadn't he felt guilty about this until now? And why does he feel guilty about not feeling guilty?
"I just want him to fix me," Eddie says, and Tommy laughs. Laughs hard and long enough that Eddie's feeling offended. Off kilter and pissed off and -
"You're not a single loose wire, Eddie. Can't just replace a cable and have a clean slate. You gotta change your oil and replace the spark plugs and top up the coolant, over and over again until you die."
It's the sort of metaphor Eddie'd like to lob across the field of engagement just to watch it get shot to pieces. It's apt, though.
"Feels like the whole engines gotta go," Eddie tells him "Transmission's shot and my catalytic converter keeps getting stolen and the mufflers been welded back on so many times that it's half-solder."
"Christ," Tommy says, which. Yeah. Exactly. "Well you can't exactly send yourself to the junk yard for scrap and buy a newer model."
"Buck does," Eddie snaps, and Tommy rolls his eyes. He'd been there the last time Buck brought up his 1.0 days.
"Half the time a system update patches ten bugs and creates twenty more."
"So Buck's buggy, is what you're saying."
He rolls his tongue over his teeth. "You are running off faulty software and you've been refusing to update to the new version because you heard it'd burn the battery faster, is what I'm saying."
Eddie doesn't have a whole lot of charge to begin with. And the metaphors are starting to muddle in his brain, too many different ideas battling around when he's already spent an ornery hour talking to Frank and another trying to convince himself he doesn't resent his best friend for accepting his own fucking flaws and working on them.
Tommy sets the beer bottle down. Eyes Eddie for a moment, and Eddie wonders how often he levels that look on Buck, how Buck feels when Tommy flays him open and digs through his insides. "You wanna go hit something for a bit?" he asks, and Eddie nods so quickly he nearly smacks his nose into the brim of the bottle in his own hand. He's about done feeling his feelings, for the moment. He'll probably end up being annoyed that Tommy makes him wrap his hands before he takes some aggression out on the bag hung up in the corner of Tommy's garage, but maybe when Tommy gets annoyed with him and does that takedown maneuver that knocks the wind out of Eddie's lungs when they're sparring he'll let that go.
Tommy flicks his forehead on the way to grab him something to wear. "That's for calling my boyfriend buggy, jackass," he says, and laughs himself all the way down the hall when Eddie splutters after him.
His bedroom door snicks shut by the time Eddie's recovered enough to remind him that he'd been Eddie's friend first.
683 notes · View notes
nathaslosthershit · 7 months ago
Text
Celebration Baby, Literally! (CL16) [Blind Items AU]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Part 6 in the Blind Items AU [can be read separately])
Summary: 8 months after Charles Monaco win, the fans get to see just how hard he celebrated
Tumblr media
“Ohhhhhhh mate, you have been outed!” Pierre laughes as he shoves his phone into Charles’ face.
“Pierre, I cannot read when you put the screen in my eyes like that, back up” Charles responds as he shoves his longtime friend. Like many of the other victims of the ‘F1 Blind Items’ account, Charles’ face drains of color as he sees what they are saying. While there is some truth to the rumor, it still is far from correct. “Ah! Merde, they got so much wrong, mate!”
“What's wrong, honey?” Charles’ girlfriend calls from the other room where she is sitting with Pierre’s girlfriend. The couple decided to join the Gasly house for a nice dinner, although reading the post surely made Charles lose his appetite. 
Charles and Pierre look at each other as they realize she heard them. The one thing the post got right was that his girlfriend was very pregnant with what is most likely a post-win conceived baby. There was no reason to stress her out when she was so offline it would take a while for her to learn about the rumor, giving Charles enough time to convince her to go public and try to make this into the smallest problem possible. 
“Nothing, baby. I love you” He responded as he made a ‘stay silent’ motion at Pierre.
“Um okay, love you too?” was all she replied, not believing in the slightest that this was nothing. 
It didn’t help that for the rest of the night, Charles was off in his own world, thinking of how he was going to execute his terribly thought out plan. But she wasn’t going to interrogate him on it, at least not again, she had already asked him multiple times if he was okay and if he wanted to talk but he would always answer with a “I am fine, beautiful. How can I not be when the woman I love most is pregnant with our child.” While it was charming, she still wasn’t convinced he was okay after all. 
After hours of deliberation, as he sat outside the bathtub while his girlfriend relaxed in it, he finally spoke his mind.
“We should tell people” is the best he came up with after hours of thinking.
“Tell people what?”
“About the baby”
“We told people about the baby”
“I mean like everyone, we should go public.”
She turned her neck to fully face him at that. 
“Where is this coming from? Why now?” She asked.
“No reason”
“You are a shit liar, Leclerc, tell me why.”
“People know”
“What people know?” She asked. God, he was awful at explaining things.
“Everyone.”
“Then why would we need to tell them?”
Right when he was about to reply, he closed his mouth. Why would he need to tell people? While the Blind Items account had become a reliable source as they had yet to be wrong, there wasn’t any reason to actually address the issue, at least not till the baby was born, which would happen during winter break.
“...I guess we don’t need to. It's just- there is this account that posts rumors about the drivers that so far have always been true, but one came out about us and it isn’t really that correct, I just thought we should squash it.”
“What did they say that wasn’t correct?” She questioned.
“They implied we only got together because of the baby, and that we weren’t dating before I uh, knocked you up.” The ‘very public breakup’ the post referred to, was an actual breakup that happened a year prior to the world knowing. It was another very private relationship, as Charles became more famous and ‘sought after’ he liked to keep relationships from the limelight till they got serious in order to protect his girlfriends. But when his ex had found out just how serious things were with his current girlfriend, she wanted to bring it to light in order to get her 15 minutes of fame, which ended up being more like 2 minutes. As terrible as it was, once the public knew she had no connection to Charles anymore, they lost interest in her. 
After requesting he pull up the post, Charles handed his phone to his girlfriend so she could read.
“Is this what you are worried about? The part about me getting a ring for a ‘push present’? Don’t want me getting any ideas?” She joked. They had been together long enough and were about to have a baby, so the idea of getting engaged took up about 65% of the monégasque’s thoughts, the rest being about her and the baby, maybe 5% in total was devoted to F1.
“Ah no, my love, you know that is not it. Although an engagement ring would already happen even without our baby, so I will get you something else as well as a present” He said as he kissed her shoulder, then her neck, then her cheek, finally landing on her lips.
“We don’t need to say anything, let us enjoy the privacy for a while longer. Wouldn’t it be better to go into the upcoming season with a baby and a financée?” She asked.
She was right, why not make an even bigger entrance by saying nothing and letting the rumor die down, in order to enjoy the bliss of privacy for a little while longer.
“That sounds wonderful, mon amour. Absolutely perfect.”
601 notes · View notes
mcu-coworkers · 6 months ago
Text
A Weeks Time
Summary: The king brings you and Aegon together in hopes to mend his broken family.
Pairings: Aegon Targaryen X Targ. Reader
Notes: Hello everyone! In honor of the House of dragon season 2 I became inspired to write this little series. I hope you all enjoy the journey my mind takes me on.:)
Pt.2 Exploring The Prince
(I do not own this gif all characters are from the series)
Tumblr media
As a child my mother spoke to me of all the things she did in order to proceed as heiress to the crown. Her duty to perform did not come to her so easily but she became used to the attention, the obligations that came with attachment to the crown.
She told me the story of her first marriage to my father and the night of their wedding. In some ways I felt as if she was preparing me for something.
And in this thought I was right.
”When a girl comes of age, she is to be wed to a suitor my darling.” She said, smiling softly, “you have come of age.” She finished barely above a whisper.
With a confused smile I answered, “Yes I believe so mother but, with no suitor in sight.”
Briefly looking at me I notice her smile fade.
”Mother?” I push.
”The King has betrothed you already, you shall marry him at once.” She said rather quickly.
But not quick enough to save your ears.
Your breath hitched in your throat, who could he have chosen for me so quickly?
”At once? To whom?” I was finally able to form words again.
I ’d have felt more at ease if my mother hadn’t struggled so much to come out with the name.
Could he really be that bad? Surely my grandfather wouldn’t marry me off to just anyone.
”Aegon, y/n, You will marry Aegon.” she said, waiting for your reaction.
You thought hearing the news of a betrothed left you speechless but hearing who it’d be left you with your mind running wild yet thoughtless at the same time.
”Aegon? But mother we left for Dragonstone because he and his brother were trying to kill my brothers, now I am expected to marry him?” You all but yelled.
”We must put that past us Y/n” she sighed.
Aegon would not have been her first choice for you, but he was the Kings.
”Past us? Is it past them? Past Aemond?” You already know the answer. They hadn’t. And they never would.
Especially Aemond. He had it out for all of us.
”That I cannot be certain of but this can be a chance to mend that wound, we can be close once again, a family.” My mother said hopeful.
I couldn’t tell if she was trying to convince me or her.
”But why me?” I asked. Helaena was there, her and so many other suitors.
” You are my oldest, your grandfather sees you for your beauty, and it will do Aegon good to have a woman like you by his side, to help him mature.” She said as she took your hand in hers.
Aegon and his brother made countless rumors about your brothers because they did not display the traditional Targaryen look you all did.
Your silver hair is a contrast to the rich chocolate color of theirs.
You had heard things about Aegon, most you overheard and chose not to believe for the sake of your own peace.
The things people described are things you’d never seen personally.
To you Aegon was kind, gentle, and humorous. You’d never seen the man that gets credited for all of the crazy things you hear.
And you’ve heard them all.
”Alright, when shall I be wed?” You asked, ‘at once’ didn’t exactly specify.
”We leave for Kings landing tomorrow, you will wed him in a week's time by the end of the traditions.” She said standing from my bed and leaving the room.
I laid there taking in the news, I was betrothed to Aegon Targaryen.
Closing your eyes nervously for what’s to come, you wondered how he’d reacted to the news.
———
“Wed? Me? And to what whore did you happen to choose for me?” Aegon screamed in disbelief.
”Watch your tongue boy.” Viserys warned. “You are to be wed to Y/n, she will make a good wife.” He said catching breathe.
Aegon froze in place catching Aemonds eye.
”Father be rational we cannot mix our blood with theirs.” Aemond said, smirking.
”And why not? She is of pure Targaryen blood.” Viserys insisted.
”Is she?” Aemond asked. Pushing his father.
”Watch how you speak of my betrothed brother, she is to be my wife and you will respect her title.” Aegon said not once breaking eye contact.
Viserys smiled, satisfied with his son.
”She will be good for you, Aegon, be good to her, and put an end to this silly quarrel with her brothers.” He said as he began to walk away from his sons.
Once the king was out of sight Aemond was the first to break the silence.
”You can’t seriously be on board with marrying that bastard child?” He asked Aegon once again, this time hoping to get an answer he’d like.
” I warned you once brother, do not make me do it again, she is to be my wife I will not allow you to speak of her this way again.” He said as he walked out of the room and to his own chambers.
Truth be told the time you two spent together was his favorite, he saw your beauty from miles away, but your brothers kept him from ever pursuing you.
But now, nothing stood in his path.
Your brothers wouldn’t dare to challenge the king's decision nor would they want to upset you.
You were to be his and he to be yours.
And with that news Aegon found sleep peacefully eager for the next day to come.
532 notes · View notes
d1xonss · 8 months ago
Note
H EY could you possibly write a fic where the readers been on some heat the whole day just overall pissed, then there’s a fight outbreak in Alexandria and everyone crowding around & people calling Daryl so he comes, just to realise it’s his girl and he has to restrain her, pulling her away so she doesn’t continue beating the shit out of whoever and she’s MAD so he has to calm her down and gets her to just talk to him so he can help her. Just a thought yk 😛
Sticks and Stones
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader
✧ Era : Season 5
✧ Pronouns : she/her
✧ Genre : Fluff
✧ Word Count : 3k
AN ~ I like this idea a lot! Just the thought of Daryl helping her clean up and take care of her after something like this just makes me melt. ps- Sorry for the inactiveness lately, April has already been such a crazy month for me and I've sadly had little to no time to write. But I'll definitely start getting back on track soon. Hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media
The weather was hot, sticky, and humid. Your hair was a frizzy mess, sticking up everywhere as you worked in the miserable weather. You were sweating in places you didn’t even think were possible to sweat from. Bottom line was, you were miserable.
The bad mood that was embedded in you only seemed to grow as the day dragged on longer and longer. It was bad enough that your group joined this new community in the first place, having to live with all of these complete strangers after everything you had been through with your family. But what seemed to make it even worse, was this community had some high expectations upon your arrival. The leader, Deanna, made it very clear that she wanted each and every one of you working like dogs in order to do your part just like everyone else.
Meanwhile her sons were sitting in their air conditioned houses without lifting a damn finger.
Though you didn’t mind putting in the work, in fact, that was all you did your whole life. You were never handed a damn thing, needing to learn to find your own way in life and work for everything you got instead of being spoiled rotten. But again, you didn’t mind. The only thing that bugged you was that there were clearly a few favorites that got special treatment. Though you weren’t just talking about Deanna’s sons.
For the past couple of days you had been scheduled to work with a small group of others that you tried to play nice with. And for the most part, they all seemed friendly enough, willing to pitch in and do the part they were told to complete. Everyone…except for this one bitch who seemed to love getting a rise out of you.
You didn’t know her name, you couldn’t be bothered to learn it. But that didn’t mean the urge for punching her in her stupid, fake ass face wasn’t growing the longer you were in the same vicinity. She didn’t do a damn thing other than tell every other person what to do. And she always seemed to make it her mission to get under your skin at least once a day to really add to your sour mood, really wanting to see how far she could push you. But you, of course, always did nothing. It’s not because you weren’t capable of defending yourself, but you knew even one screw up could get you, and possibly the rest of your family kicked out of here.
You didn’t want to take that chance. After all, this whole opportunity and hard work was the chance to prove that you were all worthy to stay within the thick, sturdy walls they had built. You didn’t want to screw it up for yourself, but you especially didn’t want to screw it up for anyone else. Which is why you kept to yourself for the most part, only smiling politely to the ones who showed you even an ounce of kindness as they passed by with a friendly greeting. Other than that your eyes just stayed down, in hopes that somehow the day would go by faster that way.
You and a few others were currently in the large garden that was placed practically directly in the middle of the community, instructed to pick the fruits and vegetables that were ripe enough to bring back to the pantry. The job was simple enough, knowing that when this last basket of yours was full, you would take everything back, wash them off, and place them in the right sections before finally heading back to your new home. You could practically hear the cool shower calling your name from all the way over here.
Though subconsciously, your gaze traveled up a few different times to keep an eye out for Daryl, seeing if he was maybe passing the area. You didn’t necessarily know the job he was given for the day, but what you did know was that it was hot as fuck outside. And seeing Daryl with his arms exposed, the signature leather vest, and sweat glistening off of him…the sight would surely make your day ten times better than how it was going.
But everytime you did a subtle scan, he was nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t help but sigh a bit dramatically as all you wanted was to take him home and use that last bit of energy you had left.
“Hey!”
You were snapped out of your lustful daze suddenly when you heard a familiar voice from the other end of the space, seeing the one blonde bitch who wouldn’t get off your back, her face scowling into a glare.
You raised your arms up from your slightly crouched position, “What?”
“I can see you slacking off from all the way over here, get back to work!” she called with her hands sassily on her hips.
You sent her a bitter smile before ducking your head back down in attempts to pull yourself together, “Oh, I’ll get back to work.” you spoke under your breath, “Work on shoving this foot up your ass.” you grumbled as you began picking a few more ripe strawberries.
A few minutes of peace passed, moving down the line as you scanned for any more things that were ready to be picked off the vine. Your small basket sat by your feet as it was nearly filled to the brim with the amount of fruit you collected over the past hour or so. That is…until it wasn’t.
Out of the corner of your eye you could see someone’s shadow coming from your left as whoever it was seemed to just be passing by. But the sound of their foot coming in contact with the wooden basket right beside you is what caused your gaze to snap up, already knowing who the hell it was. Her blonde hair blowing behind her as she didn’t even stop to look at the mess she made was kind of a dead giveaway.
You shot up to your feet as annoyance began to quickly overtake you, causing you to open your mouth before you even got a chance to think twice. “What the fuck?” you called after her.
She turned around on instinct, as if she was expecting you to say something, a small smirk on her face as she shrugged. “What?”
You pressed your lips together as your annoyance grew, stepping up closer to her so you could keep the conversation quiet, “What the hell is your problem? You don’t think I can tell you’re doing this shit on purpose?”
“Oh I know you can.” she said with a bitchy tilt of her head, her arms coming to cross over her chest, “I’m just wondering when the fuck you’re going to get a clue.”
“Well, why don’t you just spell it out for me, because I’m getting pretty tired of dealing with the same bullshit from you.” you stated bluntly.
She scoffed, “You and your grubby little group don’t belong here.” she spat harshly, “None of you are what we need for this community, in fact, you’re only tearing us down. I don’t even know why Deanna let you people in here in the first place.”
Her words caused your eyebrows to fly up in utter surprise. You expected her to attack you, shoot insults directed toward you. But you never expected in a million years that she would have the audacity to go after your family the way she did with little to no reason at all. 
And in the end, that’s what pushed you over the edge as you laughed at her, not needing to come up with a single response as you had a few other things in mind.
Daryl was on the other end of the community, patrolling around the streets when he heard the sudden commotion. At first he couldn’t quite pinpoint what was going down, only seeing a swarm of people flooding toward one area where lots of shouts and panicked voices were coming from. Curiosity eventually got the better of him as his brows furrowed in confusion, his pace picking up as he approached the gardens, opening the white gates to step inside.
His eyes squinted as he could tell there was some sort of fight breaking out, the people surrounding them either cheering them on, or trying to rip them apart. He leaned from side to side, trying to see who was in the middle of it all as he silently prayed he was wrong about what he originally assumed. But then there was a small parting in the crowd, allowing him to catch a glimpse in between them, and his face dropped.
Some random guy was holding you back as you attempted to hit the blonde girl at the other end of the circle they created, clawing out of his grip every so often to get another swing in while she cried. Daryl then didn’t waste another second, harshly shoving his way through the crowd to get to you in attempts to stop you from doing anymore damage. It was almost like he couldn’t get to you fast enough, either that, or you were just quick when it came to nearly tearing her head off.
“Hey!��� he shouted once he was close enough, pulling you out of the man’s grasp in attempts to hold you back himself, “Stop!”
You hardly even heard his voice, your ears ringing as you continued to try and pry his hands off of you, desperately trying to swing again as the woman sobbed. Her nose bloody and a bruise forming on her right cheek. She clearly couldn’t fight for shit considering she had such a big mouth.
Daryl groaned as he yanked you back harshly, “Damnit (Y/N), I said stop!” he shouted once more, his voice enough to silence everyone in an instant.
The familiar voice then finally registered with you as well, whipping your head around quickly to see him, smoke nearly coming out of his ears. Your face softened as you instantly came to the realization of the damage you just caused, the potential outcome of your actions suddenly terrifying you.
Your head shook slightly as you tried to speak, “I-”
“Get back to the house.”
His tone was firm, but somehow still held a bit of gentleness. You sighed as you took yourself out of his hold, not needing to be told twice as you slowly began to walk out of the crowded area. Now seeing the amount of people that witnessed your meltdown, you suddenly wanted to crawl into a hole and die, feeling all their watchful eyes on you as Daryl quickly ushered you the rest of the way out. The last thing you barely caught a glimpse of, was a few others crowding around the blonde as she continued to cry her eyes out with her beaten face.
There wasn’t a single word spoken between the two of you. Just silence. And it was killing you.
He didn’t utter a word, only gesturing you into the bathroom for you to sit at the edge of the tub, before pulling out a first aid kid from the closet. Your brows furrowed in confusion as she hadn’t laid a hand on you, but then your eyes traveled down to your own hands, seeing how cut up and bloody they were. The pain hadn’t even registered to you, you hardly felt the sting at all as if your adrenaline was still pumping fast through your system.
Daryl wordlessly kneeled down in front of you, taking your hands with such softness in his touch as he cleaned you up with precision. You could tell he was trying to be as careful as he could, despite the fact that he was probably upset. Hell, the whole group would probably be upset with you for a while, over something that you could now never take back. Something that you could never undo. All because you couldn’t keep your head on straight.
You were forced to think about it even more as the silence only lingered, playing the imagines back over and over again in your mind. You wanted to say it was worth it, to see her actually get somewhat of a taste of her own bitter medicine, knowing now she would probably never fuck with you again. But the fate of the future, what would come next, still weighed heavily on you as it was clearly unknown.
You then sighed softly as you looked down at him, “I…I’m sorry.” your voice spoke barely above a whisper.
He nodded as he kept his eyes down, finishing up your left hand as he wrapped it in some bandages, “I know ya are.”
“You don’t know the things she was saying…what she’s been doing ever since we fucking got here. God…I know I shouldn’t have taken it that far, but that bitch got what she deserves, trust me.” you spoke bitterly, trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him.
Daryl’s eyes then glanced up to you, a small smile on his lips as he nodded again, “I know.”
Your brows furrowed in both confusion and surprise, “You’re…you’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” he asked, his voice a lot more gentle than it was before. But then again you could only assume it was all just the heat of the moment.
You shook your head softly, “I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down to your hands as you slightly examined them, mostly to avoid his eyes as you knew he would be able to see right through you.
And he did. His brows furrowed as a few seconds of silence passed before he spoke again, “Yeah ya do. You just don’t wanna say it.”
A heavy sigh passed through your lips as you looked back up at him, “I just…I know that doing that was a big mistake.”
His eyes softened as he heard the timidness in your tone, “Everyone makes mistakes, sweetheart.” he said as he raised his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, “It’s alright.”
“No…that’s not what I mean.” you said with a shake of your head, “I…I fucked up…I fucked up everything. Once Deanna finds out what happened, once she finds out that we can’t work with her people, she’ll kick us out. And then we’ll be back on the road without any food, or water, or anything. We barely made it last time, I-”
“Hey.” Daryl interrupted you softly, raising his hands to gently grip your forearms, “What are ya talkin about? None of that’s gonna happen.”
“But she’s already weary of us, we’re the big, scary outside people. The second she realizes that we won’t be able to fit in here, there’s no way she’ll let us stay.”
The man in front of you couldn’t help but smirk, which at first confused you, but then you found yourself rolling your eyes. “The big, scary outside people?” he repeated with a light chuckle.
You gave him a pointed look, “This is serious.”
“I know, I know.” he assured, “But I also know you’ve been bustin yer ass damn near everyday tryin to prove that you can be trusted here. That we can be trusted here. So…I think right now, you just need to take a second and breathe…okay?”
You stared at him for a moment before swallowing a bit thickly and nodding your head, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm your nerves. It felt like your brain was scattered all over the place and you knew he was right in saying that you just needed to fucking chill out for a second. You still had your worries about the outcome, but for some reason the longer you looked at the man sitting in front of you, the more those thoughts started to disappear.
After a few moments of silence, you felt him gently squeeze your arms again as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you, “Ya got pretty worked up back there, killer. And I don’t think this stress and worryin is helpin. We’re here for a reason…to have a fighting chance. And you just gotta trust that over time, everythin’s just gonna work itself out…no matter what.”
He was so confident in his words, it made you want to feel confident too. It made you want to believe that this would all pass, and you didn’t completely screw up this opportunity like you assumed. Though there was still something else on your mind.
“But what about the fight? I mean…I messed her up pretty bad.” 
He simply shrugged, “Good.”
Your eyebrows raised in slight shock, “What?”
“That bitch got what was coming to her. Truth is, ever since ya told me about what’s been goin on, I’ve been dyin for ya to knock some damn sense into her. If anything, I wanted to cheer you on.” he winked.
You couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, you always have been my biggest supporter…” you trailed off as you looked down toward your hands again, “And the best doctor around.”
He hummed with a small smile before grasping your hands gently, raising them up to his mouth to leave a few kisses on the back of your bandaged knuckles as if to seal the healing process.
You smiled a little to yourself at his actions, “So…you really think we’ll be okay?”
“We’ll be just fine.” he muttered as he placed one final kiss on your skin, “It’ll breeze over, people will move on. Cause I think they all kinda know she was the problem to begin with.”
“God, I hope so.” you scoffed, “And even though I kinda lost it…it felt good.” you admitted almost a bit sheepishly.
He chuckled as he pulled at your hands a little, helping you stand back up to your feet as he did, “Looked pretty good too.” he confirmed as he held you close, placing a kiss on top of your head. “I think you could use some kinda award for doin that.”
You smirked as you looked up at him, “Well…I could use a massage.”
He smiled right back at you as he nodded, “Done.”
~ Thanks for reading!
715 notes · View notes
ktsumu · 9 months ago
Text
when you meet his family (cousins, parents, sister, brother, and brothers*) warnings: drinking
-
Right from the first night you kissed him, Issei's dreamt of this going every way possible.
He's thought of it being a mess, defending your honour after a misunderstanding with a cousin or something, taking your hand and squeezing it before waking up with a shiver.
He's thought of it going fucking fantastic, with his mom liking you a bit more than she probably likes him, calling you one of her own and ushering you out of his grasp to ask what wine you like.
And he's though of it going neither way, sat in the middle of neutrality, where they simply decided you were a fine choice for their fine son and that was going to be that.
He didn't cover this.
It's not that he didn't cover it, actually, it's that he can't categorize it. It doesn't fall into any of those three categories he so meticulously dreamt up— you don't fit any of them.
It was decided you'd finally meet his family at his sister's engagement party. He remembers explaining the game plan over a lunch date— all the attention's on them, so you won't have to be as nervous. Good, yeah?
(You snorted, telling him sure, whatever and asking what he was gonna order.)
You both prepared for this like you're in the finals, drew up your game plan on a locker room whiteboard and put your hands in the middle. You wore your finest backyard BBQ-appropriate attire and told Issei to at least add a belt, rolled your eyes when he said he liked your Sunday best.
He told you didn't need to worry about that, that you'd look 'fucking hot' in anything, but you ignored him entirely.
(He didn't mind, 'cause he got a good look when you you were walking away.)
He doesn't even know why he was nervous, now.
The two of you set foot in that house for maybe ten seconds before being overwhelmed with the love inside, warm hands patting his back and names he's heard a million times introducing themselves to you for the first.
He found himself watching how his people swooned over you, gushing over your name and how it suits you— he thinks he remembers doing the same, at least once.
He found himself watching you from across the room as you left his side— divide and conquer, 'Sei —with his mom, grinning as you whirled your head around to decide who you'd answer to first. Grinning as he punched his cousin's gut, the one hanging off of his shoulders and asking how much he paid you.
("Nothing, dickwad."
"Bullshit. How?"
"Magic. You'll never know.")
He found himself relaxing his shoulders when you all went outside, taking a bottle from someone tall enough to ruffle his hair and taunt about how big he's gotten, taking a drink when you met his eyes.
You smiled, and all the worry he's had for the last week disappeared in one fell swoop.
He introduced you to his parents, his sister, her fiancé— his sister was half in the bag and said something about how he talks about you more than anything else, but it wasn't anything you didn't know.
His dad clapped him on the shoulder and pointedly said he's glad he's settled down, but no one can hold him to the man he was in university.
He's pretty sure his mom wanted you to stay the night.
He introduced you to his little brother, who— for the first time that evening —looked up from his phone to blink twice and say you were a stunner. Call me if Issei does you wrong, too.
(He flipped him off and nudged you the other way.)
The wad of cousins that are around your age told you all about a childhood with Issei, of his darkest secrets, raised brows all around when you simply said he told you already.
Safe to say they approved.
Check. Check. Check. Check. Check.
Judgement day was more of how he introduced you to his boys more than anything else. Because he knew that, if anyone was gonna be scarily honest, it was gonna be them.
Makki knew you already— he's around Issei's apartment too much not to know you. It helped to have someone in your corner in talking you up to Tooru and Hajime.
Iwa greeted you with a warm handshake, already armed with harmless questions. He knew where you were from, but he asked you like Issei didn't spill everything after a week of knowing you. He knew how you met Issei, but he asked you like he didn't.
Tooru hugged you, and his questions had an intense lean. Why Issei? What'd you see in him first? If you could pick one thing about him that you love the most, what is it? And don't say anything below the belt!
(That was the end of the onslaught. Hajime grabbed him by the scruff and told him to just stop talking.)
Now it's nearing seven, and the party's winding down.
There's a fire burning and everyone's figuring out a way to crowd around it. His backyard's never been big, but his family's never been either— crammed together shoulder to shoulder, hands on someone's knees when they laugh.
You're off with his sister again, figuring out how much you have in common while Issei prepares to have you stolen away from here for the rest of his life. He doesn't really mind it.
He's slumped back in a lawn chair he used to nap in when he was a kid, paint peeling and the wood probably too old for him, a bottle of beer in hand that he swirls nice and slow. Makki and the others sit on either side, legs kicked up with twin drinks. Makki kicks Issei's to bring him back.
Brothers.*
"So," he drawls.
"Better be good, Makki."
"Good?" Makki shares a glance with Iwa and Tooru—they look equally as buzzed, equally as pleased. "I think you're set for life, man."
There's a quiet laughter amongst the three of them, Tooru even nudges his shoulder when he looks back at him, hanging off of Hajime's neck. The four of them are rarely serious, which is how Issei knows so well when they mean something.
"Think so?"
"Know so. That's your fucking match, dude."
Hajime scoffs from the side. "Never thought I'd see the day."
Issei snorts, taking a slow drink. "Still bitter and single, I see."
"I just congratulated you five minutes ago!" he defends, hiding behind the mouth of his bottle. "Fuck,"
"It's okay, Iwa, you'll do great when you learn to talk to people at the gym!"
"I don't even wanna hear it from you Tooru—get off my fuckin' back,"
"Girls, stop fighting."
Chatter drowns into the back of his mind when you walk into it, just a simple look making you rule it alone. You're smiling at him. The smile that he finds so easy to stare at, one that is unequivocally yours.
He offers you one back— his is more crooked, but that's just how it is. He never really noticed until you told him how much you love it, now he tries a little harder.
"You know," Tooru's singsong tone brings Issei back to the bubble, "now that you've introduced us all, that'll should you guys, next."
Issei follows his finger to where your hands cradle your sister's engagement ring, entirely not your style but still beautiful. He grins, because he knows enough to know you'd like something else.
"Uh, okay, slow down maybe?"
"Why do you take everything so seriously, Iwaa?"
The thought makes him feel wonderfully sick. Butterflies, thunderstorms, whatever else in his gut. The sight of a ring near your hand makes him grin.
"Yeah," Issei agrees, head tilting as he watches you come back to him. "Guess it will be."
(The three of them share a look.)
"What're you guys talking about?" you ask, taking the hand that lures you into Issei's lap. You settle into the spot you've practically molded for yourself, arm reaching around to comb your fingers through the curls on the back of his head. "What'd I miss?"
Issei leans back to get a good look at you. "Nothin,' just catching up."
You scan over the four of them— they've all got that look that says they're up to no good, but you think that's the effect of the group.
"Uh-huh."
Issei can't categorize tonight into one of his three genres of dreams he's had. It's not that it wasn't amazing, it's that it was more than that.
He hadn't thought about bringing you home, and leaving a piece of you there. He hadn't thought about bringing a piece of it home with you. He can feel it in his lap, and he wants to ask you right here.
Makki huffs a laugh, giving Issei a little wink behind your back.
"So," he drawls, "I forget—what'd you see in him, again?"
"Oh, not this."
675 notes · View notes
drewstarkeyluvbot · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Haunt me
Rafe Cameron x ex-best friend pogue! reader
Summary : After your encounter with Rafe , you wished never to face him again. Nevertheless, fate fathoms different plans and in a time where old wounds have been ripped open and blood is rapidly spilling out , four hands are going to get messy.
warnings: angst, cursing , jealousy
word count: 3.2k
part one , part three
~
There is no deeper pain than the one stemming from an old love that transformed into a bitter stranger.
Because you know it. You know it now, you knew it then - god - you've known it since you were a toddler. You know you were in love with Rafe Cameron.
Perhaps that's why the pain caused by his absence was so deep, so profound that it reached into the crevices of your very soul and settled there . It was always there , you were aware of it, but you constructed defence mechanisms and put up walls in order to shield it from the outside world,in order to forget it and keep it buried deep within your soul.
Your efforts were destroyed in a matter of seconds , a few words falling from his lips were stupidly enough . It was awoken, dragged back to the surface no matter how hard you tried to conceal it. He made you vulnerable - again - and you despise him even more for it.
Because he doesn't care.
But you do , you care. You always did, even during the days that Rafe wasn't quite Rafe. He has always been short tempered,always had aggressive tendencies. The man that was supposed to distance him from such behaviour ; who should have been the light guiding him through the dark , was the very cause of his peculiar behaviour.
You never quite liked Ward Cameron. Even before Rafe opened his heart to you,you noticed small -yet malicious- traits in his behaviour. You noticed the way he talked to - the way he scolded - Rafe, you noticed the way rafe's back would straighten the moment his father entered a room. It was almost as if a switch had been turned on , and he would attempt to take up the role of the perfect son. You noticed the way his father treated his sister, the way his eyes lit up every time he saw her. Sarah Cameron was his little princess, and Rafe Cameron was the neglected son that yearned for a validation he would never receive.
You were fourteen when you truly realized what a horrible person Ward Cameron was ; It was the first time Rafe cried in your arms . You were so confused - so young - yet embraced him with so much love and warmth that his father's insults and cruel words about pretend masculinity were nothing but a vacant thought. At least until it happened again. But then, you'd do it again,and again, and again.
You were his medicine,in a way. Patching up his wounds and healing his broken soul with your mere presence. You were so full of love,and you gave it all to him. You'd wipe his tears and caress his face until your eyes would sting and your fucking fingers would feel numb, because who cares about momentary torture if it meant seeing him smile again?
But that's all in the past now.
Leave the past in the past, y/n.
Leave the past in the past,y/n.
Leave the past in the past,y/n.
That's exactly what you're weakly attempting to achieve at this moment, before you've realized you got lost in your irrational thoughts once again,the ones that you've tried to desperately avoid. Your head is feeling slightly dizzy,and you can practically feel the blood pumping inside your veins as you grip the glass of the unknown drink you're holding. You're at a random house party, one that the pogues had unwillingly dragged you to, claiming you've been out of it the whole week. Of course you hadn't told them about your recent encounter, you don't need to have more people reminding you of how much fucking power he still has over you, your own repetitive words are enough.
Your eyes shift towards your group of friends, bodies splayed out on the rather uncomfortable couch as giggles and contented sounds fall from their lips. You smile, eyes falling on the drink in your hand and studying the nasty liquid. You weren't really the drinker ; well, at least not to the point of throwing up in another person's toilet and confessing your undying love to said person. But everyone is different, right?
You picked up the habit of staying mostly sober when Rafe first discovered alcohol , and you weirdly felt that taking care of him was your own liability. It kind of stuck on you since then , both the staying sober and taking care of others. He somewhat ruined you, didn't he? How silly.
He's here ;  you noticed him the moment you stepped inside the ridiculously posh house. He's resting against the wall lazily, drink in his hand as his group of friends surrounds him. The same group of friends he discarded you for. He fits into the crowd seamlessly, he blends in. You suppose he never did that with you.
They're not good people, you know that, Rafe knows that. But, perhaps your definitions of good don't quite line up anymore. How silly.
You feel a fluffy mess falling against your exposed thighs, and you move your drink that's hiding the view. You slightly scrunch your nose, narrowing your eyes as your mouth quirks up at the sight of your drunk friend.
JJ Maybank is sunshine presented in human form.
"Why are you so quiet, sunshine?" He slurs in a funny tone, making your soft smile widen into a bright grin. You shake your head, lightly ruffling his blond locks. "Just tired, Jayj."
He groans quietly at your response, scrunching his face like a petulant little toddler. "S' a party! You should be partying and drinking and dancing and singing!"
A loud laugh immediately falls from your lips as you stare down at him fondly, "you're quite literally seconds away from falling asleep on my lap. "  You reply teasingly.
JJ grumbles at your response, reaching up in a weak attempt to flick your forehead but ending up flicking your eyebrow instead. "That's because I've already partied , little brat! S' the aftermath!"
You smile softly at his reply, shaking your head in pure amusement as you let him rest his head on your lap. You lay back on the couch, lifting your gaze and letting your eyes wander about. You know that they're not just wandering about.
Your eyes fall to his lips first, instictevely. You notice the way they're stretched into an obnoxiously cocky simper. You notice his arms after,the way the bicep bulges and contracts as it's tightly secured around her waist. You notice his chest, the way her hand presses against the firm muscle as she smiles up at him with a look that can only mean so much. You notice the way their bodies are plastered together, almost forming into one as he leans down to whisper into her ear.
You notice icy blue eyes shifting to yours from across the room before his hand wraps around her wrist, dragging her away to a place where bodies meet and words don't matter.
~
It's a bit blurry after that, you make up a stupid excuse about having a rapid headache that your friends certainly do not buy, but cannot interfere. You can't even pinpoint how you ended up sprawled on your cushioned bed , images of your car speeding away like a bat out of hell. You're calmer now, tranquility and peace settling inside your apprehensive mind.
Why did you feel that way?.  Why did you feel that peculiar tightening sensation in your chest the moment he dragged her upstairs? Why did he meet your eyes? Why - for god's sake - do you care so damn much?
You need to stop being desperate for an alternative ending to a story that had a miserable one.
Excruciatingly slow hours have passed before you actually manage to drift off to sleep, your face squished against your soft pillow. When you drift awake,you expecte the warm, orange rays of the sun to be peaking through your blinds and cascading over your face. instead , you're met with the soft glow of the moon and a weird groaning sound stemming from the outside.
When you process the noise, you so desperately want to excuse it for being a wild animal,and fall back into the slumber you were in. You can't, not when the groaning ensues, not when it's certainly the sound of a person.
You tentatively lift the warm covers from your body, your feet meeting the wooden floor. You're currently the only person present in your house,the probability of meeting some ill-intentioned person behind the door quite high. Nonetheless,your instincts take over and your hand gently grips the door handle.
The sound of the door creaking tunes out  the rapid acceleration of your heartbeat,the feeling traveling to your ears ; ringing , and ringing and ringing.
It has been two years since the last time Rafe Cameron found himself drunkenly sprawled on your front porch. Today, that changes.
Your heart feels like it's desperately trying to claw out of your fucking throat as you stare at his worn-out form, face first into your wooden , antiquated floor. Soft groans are still falling from his lips , body still and frozen. Just like yours.
"Rafe," it's spoken in a gentle whisper that most definitely does not reach his ears. "Rafe." You repeat a tad louder, still not enough to drown out his throaty groans. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you slowly crouch down.
A hand carefully places itself on his back, feeling it slightly move under the touch. The groaning stops. "Rafe." , your voice is loud and clear now ,anxiety bubbling in your chest as you desperately anticipate some form of a reaction.
His head slightly shifts to the side, curtain bangs messy and sweaty as they cling to his forehead , but not enough to shield his pained and glassy eyes. He's quiet for a moment, seemingly filtering my presence. "You're here." The side of his mouth ever so slightly quirks up.
A soft sigh falls from your lips, hand still pressed into his back as you gaze into his eyes.  "How did you get here, Rafe?" You whisper, quietly and hesitantly. Rafe flashes you a toothy smile, gaze lost and hazy. "You're here." He slurs again .
You stare at him, filtering the state he's in. You're slowly dragged back into your past, to those nights you would take care of him. To the night you took care of him and he confessed his feelings.
Rationally, you should go back inside. It is certainly not your fault that Rafe Cameron got piss drunk once again and somehow found his way to your house, as if being lead by the force of habit. You should leave him out here, in the darkness of the night , and let fate deal with his poor misery. You should , but you won't.
"Come on." You whisper softly , grabbing his arm gently and attempting to lift him off the ground. Your strength is evidently not adequate, and Rafe groans deeply as he complies in an trial to assist you in helping him up. He grits his teeth together, legs wobbly as he wraps an arm around your shoulders tightly. You grip his waist tightly and push the door open with your free hand , leading his large frame towards your living room couch.
You carefully place him on it, cradling his head to ensure he doesn't plop it carelessly and sliding a cushion behind it. You can hear him letting out a soft hum as you help him settle in. His eyes burn into you. You do not look into them.
"I'll go grab you a wet cloth and some water,hm?" You don't genuinely expect an answer, simply angling your body around before a strong hand wraps around your bicep. Strong hand, but a gentle grip.  "Don't leave."
Your heart plummets in your stomach at his broken tone, your teeth digging into your lip anxiously. You don't turn to look at him,not wanting the pain in your chest to intensify. "I'll be back,I promise." Your whisper is soft as your hand gradually slips away from his hold, your body moving towards the kitchen before he can mutter another unexpected response.
Your eyes train on the way the freezing tap water drowns the cloth you picked up,in an attempt to prevent yourself from drowning in your own fucking thoughts. You hastily fill up a glass, your hands slightly shaky. You walk back to the living room,back to him.
He's staring up at the ceiling, seemingly out of it and possibly seconds away from falling asleep. Maybe you should have let him, maybe you should stop caring as much as you do. You place the glass on the small table before hesitantly sitting on the edge of the sofa , looking down at him.
His glassy eyes meet yours, and you let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, Rafe" , you speak in a muted tone as you grab the soaked cloth and place it on his forehead. You dap at the sweat that has accumulated there, while simultaneously offering him a sense of refreshment and alleviating the rapid throbbing inside of it.
His enchantingly blue eyes bore into yours as you take care of him, lips slightly parted. "You dating that pogue,hm?" He finally speaks again, voice scratchy and croaky. Your eyebrows immediately furrow, trying to filter his words. That pogue?
You remember the blond mess of unruly hair on your lap, and you let out a small sigh as you keep running the cloth over his face. "JJ?" you speak ,he does not answer. You sigh again. "No, I'm not dating him, Rafe."
He looks at you,not replying before he shifts his eyes. He nuzzles into your hand that's dapping his face,and you're so thankful you didn't drink much alcohol because you're certain you would have emptied your stomach right there.
You pull the cloth away after a while, grabbing the glass of water that was resting on the table. "Sit up." You tell him, receiving a whine in response. You let out a soft sigh, before cradling the back of his neck gently . "Come on, you need to stay hydrated."
Your soft touch turned on a switch, because he slowly moves his body right up. You hand him the glass, your fingers lightly grazing against the other. You pull away first. You discreetly watch his Adam's apple bopping as he downs the glass, silence prevailing.
You grab the glass when he's finished, placing it on the table. "Do you want more?" , you whisper softly. He merely stares at you, and you so desperately want to reach into the depths of his soul and untangle the mess he has become.
"You care." He whispers, "You still care."
It's as if he's repeating the words that have been circulating your mind for the last week repeatedly, like a vinyl on an old record player. You still care. You hope he doesn't ask for a reasoning, because you can not supply him with one.
"Lay back down." You instruct softly, lightly pushing at his chest as you grab the mostly wet cloth . He obeys wordlessly , and you begin dapping his face again. Why does this feel so intimate?
"I don't know why I came here." He whispers again after moments of empty silence. You momentarily halt your movements, before ensuing . "It's okay, Rafe." You can't help but reassure him, why?
He lets out a soft sound, "Y/n" , the sound of tour name delicately falling from his lips makes your heart stop. "Y/n , you're so lovely." He slurs on a pained whisper.  "Why are you so lovely? This would have been so - so much easier if you - you -" He hiccups before he can finish his sentence.
You genuinely cannot deal with this right now, your fingers tightening around the stupid cloth. It's just the alcohol, he's done this before, do not react, do not give in.
Do not believe his words.
"Why did you drink so much, Rafe?" You ask instead, your tone gentle and quiet. You listen to his breathing pattern for a moment, before lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. He smiles weakly, eyes narrowed and hazy. "So you'd take care of me."
He doesn't know what he's saying.
Leave the past in the past, y/n.
You shake your head at his words, not replying. You finally pull the cloth away , before slowly getting up. A hand instantly circles your wrist, meeting painfully pleading eyes.
"I'll be back." You whisper gently, pulling your hand away as you scurry towards your bedroom. Your head is nothing but a fucking tangled mess, his words making your ears hurt and your heart bleed even more than it previously was. You grab a fluffy pillow and a small blanket before heading back towards the living room.
He's staring at the ceiling again ,and you hover above him. You slowly kneel down, softly cradling the back of his neck and lifting his head, replacing the rather confining cushion with your comfortable one. You get up, before covering his large frame with your warm blanket.
He hums contently, and you've reached the point of utter bewilderment and hopelessness. You don't know what to do , where to go. You need to stay away from him, lock yourself in your name and scream into your pillow until your fucking ears ring and the sounds of roosters prevails over your own broken voice.
A hand slowly reaches up to wrap around your wrist again, your breath hitches at the touch. "Hair." He mumbles incoherently, your eyebrows scrunching up in question.  A soft groan leaves his lips as he stares up at you in anticipation, "Play with my hair."
His reply sinks in, and you instantly shake your head , "Go to sleep, Rafe." You whisper rather coldly, watching as his Adam's apple bops on a gulp.  You hate the way your chest tightens.
"You always did that." He adds quietly, his expression pained. "Do you remember?"
You wish you could forget. Frankly enough,you wish that the fateful night of the thunderstorm , the rain would have started pouring a little harder , or the thunder would have sounded a little louder, or the lightening would have shone a little brighter ; if so , you would have stopped a little fucking earlier and would knock on the door of a random, obnoxious kook that would have cursed you out but you would have pridefully accepted it because at least they wouldn't know how you sounded when you screamed and begged for someone to love you.
You wish you were someone else, someone that doesn't know who Rafe Cameron used to be. Someone that isn't still fucking haunted by the Idea of him.
At your lack of response , Rafe decided to speak up again. "I wish I could go back to the start." he whispers weakly, voice slightly breaking out. "Before I messed it all up."
His eyes shimmer in the darkness of the room,and you wish you would die.
You begin feeling your eyes stinging, but you don't find the power within yourself to control yourself. Your hearts are bleeding, and you're both drowning in your own blood.
"That's the beauty of mistakes, isn't it?"  you whisper, "they're irreversible."
You walk away again.
~
201 notes · View notes
kaliforniahigh · 4 months ago
Note
Starting to date Noah and sneakily avoiding any food related get togethers or saying you aren't hungry all the time. Redirecting date ideas to something unrelated to food. Texting with him and telling him that you aren't hungry even though he knows you only had a coffee and a muffin today. Thinking he doesn't notice because he's a guy after all. Little do you know that he's asked the guys if they have noticed how you never eat around them. Maybe he notices a calorie tracker on your phone. After he confronts you, he learns that you're extremely uncomfortable eating in front of people, in public especially, because ex's have made comments about your weight. Never being completely comfortable eating around people but he likes to leave you little premade snacks and seeing the empty container makes him feel better.
Honestly I'm terrible for having a single coffee a day, eating maybe 3 times a week. Mostly I'm just busy but there is always a little voice in my head saying that I haven't burned enough calories to be eating anything.
Thank you for trusting me with this request <3 Please seek help if you need to, we care about you and we want to see you happy and healthy!
Warnings: this story deals with eating disorder and a toxic relationship (not with Noah), hospitals and fat-shaming comments directed at reader.
Requests are closed for now.
WC: 2.3k
Tumblr media
"You're not putting that in the cart", you heard a voice behind you.
You usually skipped the junk food isles whenever you went to the grocery store. You didn't know why you stopped this time, but you were hoping he wouldn't find you. It was just your luck that your boyfriend showed up right behind you as you grabbed a package of Oreos.
"I wasn't going to, was just looking at it", you put the Oreos back on the shelf.
"Those have around 471 calories, we don't need that going into your body", he told you as he grabbed a pack of KitKats and dropped in the cart. You wanted to tell him those have 518 calories, but you kept your mouth shut.
It was always like this, he could eat whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, but deprived you of the basic pleasures of life, like eating an Oreo for dessert.
You rarely went out to eat, him telling you that restaurants didn't use good quality ingredients, therefore, the food wasn't healthy and there was too much grease. Instead, you stayed wholed up in your house, eating whatever bland food he made for you.
Even now, a year after ending this relationship, you still held on to some habits, like checking the calories on things before you bought them and avoid eating fried food. But eating in front of people was the habit that was the hardest to let go of. You knew they most likely didn't give a shit or didn't even pay attention to you, but you couldn't help but feel their eyes on you, judging how much you could eat.
You hated the person he made you become. You were never like this as a kid. Your parents always made you feel comfortable in your own skin. Family gatherings always consisted of a lot of food, made and assembled on the table with love and care by your family members. And you weren't shy about eating and tasting all of it.
Now, you couldn't fathom the though of eating a whole burger by yourself.
That's why when you met Noah and his friends, you felt such whiplash from the behavior patterns you were used to in your last relationship.
You soon noticed that when they ordered food, they ordered food for real. They were a big group of people, but still, it looked like the amount of food could feed an army. You could always get away without eating in these social gatherings, everyone was so focused on their own food and conversations that they didn't even notice you not eating.
When Noah asked you out on your fist date, you specifically told him to not take you out to eat at a restaurant. You made up a lie about you having a lot of food allergies. So he took you to the Santa Monica pier, that way, you could choose whatever you wanted to eat.
You popped a couple of popcorns in your mouth - it was the healthiest option you could find - and when he finished his hot dog and excused himself to the bathroom to wash his hands, you dumped the popcorn in the nearest trash can.
That was almost six months ago and you thought you were so unsuspecting with your eating habits, that is until you were strolling through the supermarket with Noah.
He noticed you grabbed a lot of things from the shelves, looked over the packaging and put it back. By the third time he saw you doing this, he couldn't help but ask.
"Baby, what are you doing?", he asked you and noticed you freezing a little at his question.
"What do you mean?" you tried to buy yourself some time to come up with an excuse as to why you were looking over the nutrition facts on everything you wanted to buy.
"If you want anything, you can just put it in the cart, no problem", he told you as he walked closely behind you through the isle.
"It's ok, I can't eat any any of these things anyway, the calories are out of this world", you kept walking, not even noticing what you just said and that Noah completely came to a halt behind you.
"Baby", he called out to you and you looked back at him, he walked the couple of steps to reach you, leaving the cart behind and standing in front of you. "Were you checking the calories on every food you picked up?", he grabbed your face in his hands as he asked you the question.
"N-no, it wasn't that", you answered, but stuttered and he could tell you were lying.
"You don't have to look at that shit, if you want to eat it, we can buy it, the damn calories don't make a difference"
His words were sweet and you could tell he was worried, but you wished it was that simple. Your mind just can't get past all the scoldings if you even dared to take a look at the foods he forbid you from eating, or the way he made you weigh yourself weekly to see if you gained any weight.
"Can we talk about this later?", you told him in a small voice, not wanting to discuss this in the middle of the supermarket isle, or ever, actually.
"We'll talk about it when you're ready", he gave you a peck on the lips and dropped the subject for the moment. You breathed a sigh of relief and held yourself back from grabbing anything from the shelves.
After this day, Noah kept a close eye on you, noticing how you kept to your water instead of eating anything with the guys when they were over having lunch or dinner, or how you left before or after luch or dinner time whenever it was just the two of you.
So he decided to talk to Nicholas about it.
"Have you noticed anything strange with Y/N lately?" he asked his best friend when they were sitting on the couch playing Mario Kart one night.
"No, dude. Should I have noticed something?", Nicholas asked back. Noah was sure he wasn't imagining things.
"We were buying stuff at the supermarket the other day and I noticed she was looking at the packages of everything she picked up from the shelves", he started to explain, and Nicholas paused the game so he could pay attention to what Noah was saying.
"So I questioned her about it and she said something about calories, and then I realized that she was checking the nutritional facts to decide if she would buy it or not. So I started to pay attention and noticed that she doesn't eat anything around us or me", he gave a big sigh of frustration. He wanted to confront you about it, but didn't want you to run for the hills.
"I offered her some chicken wings the other night but she refused them", Nicholas pointed out to him.
"Can you just keep an eye on her? Just to make sure I'm not making things up in my head?" Nicholas nodded and assured him he would say something if he noticed anything strange.
The days went by and you kept to the same pattern, until one day when Noah was sitting in the studio, working on new music and his phone rang beside him. Looking at the caller ID, he saw it was your mother giving him a call.
It wasn't unsual for them to talk, but they never called each other, choosing to stick to text messages intead. He picked up the phone as soon as he saw it was her.
"Hey, what's up?" he greeted, heart beating faster for no reason at all.
"Hey, Noah. I can't explain right now, but Y/N is in the hospital. She's fine, but I think she needs to see you", her voice was calm and that's what helped not alarm him too much. He got up from the chair and didn't bother putting his sneakers on, opting for the sliders already on his feet.
"I'll be there in a minute", he told her.
"I'll be waiting for you at the entrance", he gave a hum of acknowledgment and hung up the phone.
His head ran over a million possibilities of what could've happened to you, but he tried to keep himself from going crazy on the drive to the hospital. Your mom said you were fine, and he trusted her.
Sure enough, she was waiting for him at the entrance, wanting to talk to him before he went into your room. He approached her and they hugged as a greeting.
"Listen, I know you've probably noticed Y/N's eating habits by now", she told him and he nodded. "She is gonna tell you all you need to know, just please be patient with her. I know you're a good man and she's gonna need your support right now"
"I'll do anything she needs me to do" he reassured her.
"I know you are. She is in room 102" she told Noah and he got inside the hospital, stopping at the reception and then being led to your room.
He opened the door and saw you laying there on the bed. The sight broke his heart. You looked fragile and a little embarassed.
"Hi, baby" he said in a soft tone, not wanting to alarm you, as he took a seat on the chair, scooting over closer to your bed.
"Hey, there. I guess I owe you an explanation", you looked at him with a guilty look on your face.
"What happened, baby?", he took your hands in his and gave you his full attention.
"Apparently I'm very anemic", you let out a sarcastic laugh. "Before I met you, I had a boyfriend", you dived straight into it, not giving you the time to talk yourself out of this. "He was very controlling, specially with what I ate. He always told me he wasn't the kind of guy to date overweight girls", you felt his grip on your hand tighten at your words.
"He made me check the calories on everything I bought at the supermarket, hence why I was doing it that day. He would get very annoyed if I even looked at unhealthy foods in front of him. He made me weigh myself in front of him every week to make sure I didn't gain weight"
You closed your eyes, tears stinging them and threating to fall down your cheeks. But you kept going regardless.
"He was cruel because he ate everything I couldn't in front of me. To this day, I really do believe it was a form of psychological torture. I finally had the guts to break up with him after talking with my mom and my therapist", you looked at him and saw his brows were furrowed, you could tell he was angry about everything this man put you through.
"But old habits die hard and I guess I haven't fully realized I'm not in that place anymore. Everytime I reach for something at the supermarket or anytime you guys order food or we have a barbeque, his voice and his insults echo in my head all over again, and I can't help it but let it consume me"
"If I'm being honest with you, I just wanna bash this dude's head in right now", he said through gritted teeth. He couldn't fathom anyone putting their partner through this kind of thing.
"I heard he moved out of the country a few months back" you told him and he was actually glad, because he was already making plans in his head on how to find this guy and give him a piece of his mind.
"What can I do to help you?", he decided to change the topic of conversation to what you needed right now. He was going to focus on you.
"Going to therapy weekly again is a must. And try to get out of my comfort zone. In another words, I really have to start and try to eat more and more regularly" you told him and you could see the gears in his head turning.
"Here's what we're gonna do: you're gonna make a list of everything you're comfortable eating, and I'm gonna make you meals and snacks with those. You don't have to eat in front of me if you don't want to, I just need to know you're eating. And then the foods that trigger you, we can work on them together along with your therapist to make sure you're safe with eating them again" he had a whole game plan set out, and your eyes welled with tears for a different reason this time.
"It might take a while" you warned him.
"We have forever to work on it" he leaned over you to plant a kiss on your forehead.
The weeks following, he kept a close eye on you, but made sure to not crowd you. He had various snacks in different containers in the fridge for you to grab whenever you felt hungry, and you made an effort to put the empty containers on the countertop so he could see you were eating them.
Therapy felt good and soon you were finding yourself getting out of your shell more and more. You and Noah went on your first dinner date, and you finally got to taste Matt's amazing barbeque. Drinking beer again was amazing, and you would never forget the taste of having a sweet treat after a long day, or after a delicious meal.
You got to experience what a real relationship felt like, how it was to have supportive people around you. You no longer felt like you were being watched and judged, instead, they encouraged you to be yourself with no shame.
161 notes · View notes
xkaidaxxxx · 7 months ago
Text
Fortunate Ones
BAKUGOU X READER
Mentions: Corrupt Government, Quirkless, Injections, Pregnancy, Dad Bakugou, Fluff!
reblogs are appreciated! <3
There was a point in time where life was happy for everyone. Then one day things changed.
Those with Quirks lived a better life. Good homes, good environment, upperhand on job opportunities. Quirkless born have it rough. A child should have their quirk by the age of 5 and if not the government will give the child another year just in case they’re late bloomers. If no quirk is developed by the age of 6 they’re separated from their parents and put into the quirkless side of town, Although they are allowed to travel anywhere.They get paired with a good family. They’re not allowed to have any contact with their old family.
You grew up with Bakugou and Izuku. Yeah Bakugou was an asshole but you still followed behind him just as everyone else did. You and Deku had each other. Yes you were parted from your birth parents but the ones you were given too were great. They love you like their own. Deku went through the same thing which is why you guys are understanding each other. You thought you’d be with Izuku forever as besties and have a possibility to end up with Bakugou.
Izuku never told either of you about training with All Might. He couldn’t. He didn’t even tell you about getting into U.A. You thought you'd be going to school. You knew Bakugou got in and it hurt you like hell. Parting ways with someone you fell in love with. “ Since when do you have a quirk!?” You yelled at Izuku. “You’re a piece of shit for not telling her sooner.” Bakugou said. “ It’s not what you think,”Izuku said. He wanted to stay with his best friend. He wished the three of you could attend the best hero school there is. He cared more about being a hero. “ I can’t believe it. How..just have fun with your quirk Izuku. Bakugou have fun as well. I guess this is it…” you say tears running down your face. “Who knows…maybe we can meet up one day or whatever.” He said handing you a piece of paper with his number on it. You smiled. “Y-Yeah..thanks. I’ll miss you guys more than anything.” you said. Bakugou hated it when he was forced into a group hug. He hates physical contact but tolerated it for you. He’s always had a soft side, though he's a total asshole. 
Everyone went their separate ways. You didn’t stay in contact with Izuku. He’s “too busy.” when in reality he didn't make time. He cared more about being a hero. Bakugou is very serious about it too but he tried and did make time even if it was talking on the phone or meeting up in the city going to places where Quirkless people were allowed in. Sometimes he’d even facetime with you at night even after a long and tiring day. Yes he’d knock out mid way with you but he made the time and it made you happy. 
As time went on Bakugou developed feelings towards you and finally confessed after becoming a hero and you two Immediately started dating. During the ending of highschool there was a bill being set. Quirkless people were not allowed to house with a quirk user unless married. Then 2 years later the bill passed. 
“We could always lie. We don’t have to worry about it. Let me handle it.” Bakugou said, holding you close. You were both 20 and ready to move out. Bakugou was making a great amount of money from being a hero even though he's young. You were in your 3rd year in college studying for business management and English language. You had a small business. It’s going very well. You always have orders coming in. “We can’t lie about it,Kats. If they find out then what?” you asked. “We’ll make it happen eventually.” he replied, pecking your cheek. You nodded slightly. It was your plan with him. Him becoming a hero, you finishing school and starting your small business then soon enough live together. You continued your homework. Thank god you’re the smartest in all your class and gained trust from your teachers. They’d give great recommendations for when you need a job. 
“Hey mom. I brought her to meet you. You’ll love her.” Katsuki said. He brought you into the living room. “Really!? All this time?” Mitsuki said, giving you a big hug. You returned it. She’s known you since a kid; she just never thought you’d end up dating her son. “You should’ve told me since you started dating her. Why did you keep it a secret for so long?” She asked, letting me go. “I told him I wasn’t ready not until I was almost done with university.” You answered. “We were planning to move in together but…the new bill was placed..” he said gripping your hand lightly. Mitsuki knows how much he loves you because when you and Bakugou started she noticed how much he started changing and in a great way. “You two are young. Still in the beginning of the new chapter. Us parents will be here to support you both.” Mitsuki said. 
When you and Katsuki turned 21 he proposed to you. While you were at work he decorated the dining room with candles and roses.(he lived on his own.) He made your favorite meal. The lights were dimmed. “Hey Kats. I'm here. What did you need help with?” you asked as you took off your heels. “Yeah I'm in the dining room,” he replied. You went over and blushed as you saw the lovely decorated table. You both enjoyed the food. You talked and laughed. “You’re such a romantic, it's cute. Thank you for this.” You said smiling. “I have one more surprise.” He walked over to you.” he replied and made you stand up. “ Where are you taking me?” you asked. “No No, just stand there okay. Close your eyes, loser.” he replied. You obeyed him. Bakugou took out the ring and got down on one knee. “Open.” he ordered. When you saw him your heart was racing. “Y/n I'm in love with you and you know that. You give me everything you have to offer. You always express your love to me. Make me the happiest man in the world and marry me.” He asked. You nodded as you started crying with him. He slipped the ring on your finger. When the wedding happened a year later you both were so happy, loved and fortunate, very very fortunate. 
You must be wondering why? Well thank god you and Bakugou decided to try for a baby during the honeymoon and it happened. You were blessed twins, baby boys. During the time you were 7 months the government released the news about planning on injecting half of the quirkless females. An injection to stop them from reproducing. You had your babies and after you got approval from the doctor to have another child. You and Bakugou got to work. It was hard to take care of the twins while pregnant but you and Bakugou want a little tribe. 
“ Morning my wonderful boys.” Bakugou said to the twins who were awake and ready for their bottles. He carried both of them and got comfortable on the couch he fed both of them. Struggled but fed them. You were still asleep. He makes sure you get proper rest which is why he took time off work. To help you around the house another set of twins are on the way. You woke up around 9:30 am“Kats?Kousuke?Kensuke?” You called. “In the bathroom babe!” Bakugou said. He was giving the twins their baths. Kensuke was the calm one and Kousuke…sweet lord he’s the wild one. You walked in and saw Bakugou’s shirt all wet. The boys cooed and kicked as Bakugou made silly faces. Kousuke splashed water as Bakugou lifted him to scrub his back. “Let me help kats.” you said with a smile. It took about a good 30 minutes to bath them and have them all set . 
You had a small and cute gender reveal only you,bakugou, his parents, yours and your 2 siblings. It was inside the second nursery. Your sister knows the genders so she planned it. “You guys ready?” Mitsuki recorded. You and Bakugou took a deep breath and then let go as you both opened the closet. Half of it was filled with boy clothes and the other with girl clothes. You shared a kiss with Bakugou. Everyone clapped. “ I love you and our babies.” Bakugou said as he rubbed your bump. “ We love you too, loser.” you replied. Months later you pushed your beautiful babies out. 
You guys want a K family and you also wanted to have one more pregnancy. Hopefully you’re not one of the chosen quirkless females for the injection and lucky for guys you werent. By the time you and Bakugou were 26 you had 6 kids. 
Kids' names. K family. Eldest to youngest.
Kousuke Bakugou(m)
Kensuke Bakugou (m) 
Kyousuke Bakugou (m)
Kimiko Bakugou (f)
Kaoru Bakugou (f) 
Kaisei Bakugou (m)
You changed the kids out of their pjs and into cute clothes. Your mother made a family gathering. Bakugou hugged you from behind then nibbled on your ear whispering, “We should have one more, don't you think my sexy girl.” Your eyes widened when you felt his bulge. “ Go fix your problem in our room.” you said. “ Come on one more?” he begged, leaving a hickey on your neck. You saw the kids fall asleep as you packed up their diaper bags. “ Katsuki Bakugou no.” you replied. His hands roamed your body. When he got to your breasts you moaned as he pinched your nipples,you felt your milk leak a bit. “ one more.” he whispered in your ear and then licked your neck. “Fuck it.” you gave in. He was about to carry you away until baby Kaisei started crying. Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Mommys boy for sure,” he said. You smacked him then carried Kaisei, rocking him in your arms. Bakugou looked at him playing with his little hand. Kaisei wrapped his hand around Bakugou’s finger and gripped it. When the kids do that to him he always ends up crying. You never knew why but he always smiles and pecks their hands in the process. 
The best part of it all is that your children grew up with quirks. When they got their quirks you and Bakugou were blessed. Blessed to be able to stay with your family. 
You both were blessed by God to keep your loving family.
270 notes · View notes
luci-in-trenchcoats · 6 months ago
Text
Leon Day
Tumblr media
Summary: The reader makes Dean breakfast on Leon Day and explains what the day is. While she has some fun things planned, Dean shares some of his own future plans with her...
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 1,000ish
Warnings: language, 15x20 finale spoiler (fic takes place post 15x20 though)
A/N: Enjoy!
_______
“Y/N,” said Dean, scratching his head when he came into the kitchen for breakfast. “I haven’t been in a coma lately right?”
“No...why would you ask that?” you said. Dean pointed behind him to the string lights hanging in the hall, colorful lights twinkling along the wall. “Oh that? It’s Leon day.”
“Who’s Leon?” he asked, padding over to his usual stool, yawning and curling into himself. You ruffled his hair and slid a cup of coffee in front of him.
“It’s June 25th. Exactly six months from Christmas,” you said.
“Is it Leon’s birthday?” he asked. “Whoever he is?”
“No silly,” you said, returning your attention to making pancakes.
“Can I have chocolate chips?” he asked. “Please.”
“Uh we’re out of chips but blueberries instead?” you asked, holding up the package.
“That’s fine,” he said, spinning in his seat. “So...lights?”
“Well Leon is Noel backwards and since it’s six months from Christmas it’s kinda like a mini-Christmas day,” you said.
“Never heard of it.”
“Well most people have never heard of a devil’s trap but that’s a thing that exists too,” you said. He hummed and sipped on his coffee, crossing his legs on his seat. He looked younger like that and you smiled, hoping he was in a good mood this morning. “I only decorated a little bit.”
“So it’s like Christmas? I didn’t get you any presents,” he said.
“We don’t have to do presents. It’s more about, doing things together, making cookies, having a nice dinner together. Maybe take a day off from hunting,” you said. You put your back to him and finished with his pancakes, dropping some fresh blueberries on top for him when you were all done. You hummed and slid the plate in front of him, giving him a fork and knife along with a glass of water.
“I uh, actually wanted to talk to you about hunting. Sam and I saw something online,” he said. You sighed and poured more batter into the pan.
“A new case?” you asked, forcing a smile into your voice.
“This big house in Lawrence. Not obnoxiously big but it’s big, big enough for like eight people I’d say,” he said.
“Is it haunted?” you said, watching the batter bubble and begin cooking.
“It’s for sale. We were thinking of buying it. He was gonna talk to Eileen and I said I’d talk to you about it.”
“About…”
“Buying it,” said Dean. You turned and frowned at him, Dean shoveling his second pancake into his mouth. “What?”
“First off, chew. Second, why would you guys buy a house? You’re not suddenly going to become the Property Brothers are you?”
“No silly. The house would be for us. Obviously we’d ward the shit out of it but yeah, house. What do you think?” 
“Why would we get a house?” you asked. Dean rolled his eyes and you put the rest of the pancakes on a plate, bringing them over and taking a seat beside him. “Like, is there something wrong with the bunker?”
“Nothing wrong with her. But Jack and Cas are up working in heaven and the world’s not so scary...and I did have a house in heaven when I was there.”
“You still haven’t told me about whatever space time continuum crap you broke in order to be back from the dead.”
“Jack just said it was alright so I’m back and considering you weren’t up in Heaven like we all thought you were, we all decided on a do over. I missed you and I liked that house but I want you in that house with me.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying...let’s go live in a house and maybe I hunt every once in a while, maybe I run point for some other hunters, if we decide to go that route. Maybe I do something different for work. But I’m also saying, I like waking up and having pancakes and having random holidays and being happy and I can decide to do what I want, for me. I want a warm happy house with my family. You can decorate it for whatever holidays you want if I can have that.”
“We can have that,” you said quietly. You reached over and he already was meeting you there, hugging you with a happy sigh. “You’re really ready to leave all this behind?”
“We can always come visit this place. But I think our family should grow up the way we didn’t get to. We deserve that at the very least.”
“And you said you didn’t get any presents,” you said, holding him tight.
“I may have known you were planning this,” he teased. “I waited a little longer to share the news than I was hoping to but I figured you wouldn’t mind your Leon day present.”
“No, no I don’t,” you said. He kissed you and grinned before he hopped up. He dug around in the pantry and pulled out a bag of peppermint white chocolate chips. “Well now you’re just bragging.”
“I heard we were making cookies,” he said, dropping them on the counter. “Later though. After my yummy breakfast.”
“After your breakfast,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Love you. Best mini Christmas ever.”
“Love you too sweetheart. This Christmas you’ll have a whole house to decorate. Think you can handle that?”
“Absolutely. As long as I get some help?”
“Yeah I think you can swing that,” he said. He kissed your temple and hummed, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “So where’s my present in all this? I mean, I got a house and like a life changing decision for you and I got pancakes?”
“You fucking love pancakes,” you said.
“Guilty as charged,” he said. 
“I’ll make you them every single day if you want, how’s that sound?”
“Every single day?” he hummed.
“For the next week.” He chuckled and nodded. “Love you.”
“Love you back Dean.”
___________
302 notes · View notes
blossom-sims · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Elemental Legacy Challenge for TS3
Hi all, this is my first Sims 3 legacy challenge I've made myself, it is a result of my boredom on a Saturday evening but it was a lot of fun, so I'll throw this at you ☺
This elemental legacy challenge is for The Sims 3 and spans 9 Generations. It is inspired by the Chinese Zodaic Elements and also inspiration from my favourite JRPG's which utlise a lot of elemental themed magic. It has guided ideas and generational requirements with story themes throughout. Feel free to tag me if you have a go at this ✨
Tumblr media
Rules:
I have listed the intended requirements for each generation, move on to the next generation once the requirements are complete or the next heir becomes a young adult
I have listed some guidance on careers, lifetime wishes and traits. I recommend taking 2-3 of the traits listed but they aren't mandatory
You can use money cheats if you wish, I've tried to write the generational order to put you in the desired financial spot for storytelling, but please just have fun with it
Please do alter and play this how you wish & how your stories pan out, the guidance is just there for ideas and isn't meant to limit you
Tumblr media
Generation 1 - Earth
Child of earth, you are grounded and resillient. Your goal is to provide your family with solid foundations for the generations to come. You are selfless, stubborn and driven. You know what you want and will work your upmost to achieve it. Your ambitious and frugal nature can get on other's nerves and prompts the question: with so much planning for the future, are you really taking time to enjoy your own life?
Traits: Ambitious, Frugal, Natural Cook, Snob, Workaholic
Job: Medical Career
LTW: World Renowned Surgeon
Requirments:
Begin in a starter house. You should not move lots or houses this Generation and instead add extensions onto your house when needed
Master the cooking and nectar making skills
Fall in love and marry one person in your lifetime
Do not have children until you reach level 8 of your career
Save 20,000 for the next generation
Tumblr media
Generation 2 - Water
Child of water, thanks to your parents hardwork, you had a carefree childhood and now plenty of savings behind you. You are a calm free spirit that lets the oceans currents carry you to your next adventure. You are in no rush to settle in one place just yet, why rush when you are having such fun? Your time for settling down will come evetually. Whatever will be will be.
Traits: Adventurous, Loves to swim, Commitment Issues, Easily Impressed, Athletic
LTW: Seaside Saviour/Seasoned Traveler/Deep Sea Diver
Job: Lifeguard
Requirements:
Travel to 3 different destinations
Do not get married and settle down until adulthood
Have at least 3 children with 3 different people you meet in your travels
Master the diving skill
Own a boat or live in a houseboat
Tumblr media
Generation 3 - Fire
Child of fire, you are passionate and hot-headed, throwing yourself headfirst into your work and relationships with a grandeur flair. You wear your heart on your sleeve, making many flock to you for friendship or more. Your self-awareness around your temper certainly helps your popularity as you channel your temper into your physical fitness. You certainly aren't burning out anytime soon!
Traits: Social Butterfly, Hot-Headed, Artistic, Loves the Heat, Flirty
LTW: Super Popular
Job: Self-employed Painter
Requirements:
Master the painting and martial arts skills
Have at least 20 friends and maintain friendships until you are an elder or the next generation takes over
Have 3 passionate lovers in your lifetime
Throw a party once per week
Woohoo once per week
Tumblr media
Generation 4 - Grass
Child of grass, you just can't get enough of babies, especially your own! Your family and their wellbeing are your whole world. You live to nourish, protect and teach your loved ones. However, you have been told on one or more occasions that you can be overbearing...a helicopter parent perhaps? Don't they know you only want what is best for them?
Traits: Nurturing, Perfectionist, Loves the Outdoors, Family Orientated, Green Thumb,
LTW: Surrounded by Family/The Perfect Garden
Job: Daycare
Requirements:
Have a garden and live off the land, using your grown produce for meals
Max the gardening skill
Fall in love and marry your childhood sweetheart
Have 5 children and a bad relationship with at least one
Teach all of your children their toddler skills
Live within your means in a small-medium house - never have more than 10,000 in household funds
Tumblr media
Generation 5 - Ice
Child of ice, your parents doting nature only added onto your pressure. You never felt like you fit in with your family, never felt understood. They were all so extroverted and loud whilst you much preferred your quiet isolation. Perhaps that's why you prefer animals over people. You have a lot of love to give, I can only hope you will find someone to share that with (who is not one of your many pets).
Traits: Shy, Animal Lover, Hates the Outdoors, Savvy Sculptor, Loves the cold
LTW: Descendant of Da Vinci
Jobs: Self employed Sculptor/Painter/Inventor
Requirements:
Have a poor relatioship with your parents and siblings, you will leave your childhood family home as soon as you age into a young adult
Have 3 pets at one time
Only leave your house when necessary
Meet your lover through online dating
Master the sculpting and inventing skills
Have a child through the time machine
Tumblr media
Generation 6 - Electricity
Child of electricity, you sure are a shocker! You thrive in the spotlight and want all eyes on you, for better or worse. You would never miss an opportunity to make a good story for the headlines. Rumours have been circulating that your appearances are a rouse: you're broke, narcissistic and even miserable! They're just jealous of your fame and fortune...right?
Traits: Inappropriate, Star Quality, Charismatic, Daredevil, Irresistible
LTW: Superstar Actor/Rock Star/Vocal Legend
Job: Actor/Musician/Singer
Requirements:
Reach Celebrity Level 5
Reach Level 10 of your chosen career
Have 3 negative scandals in your lifetime
Act inappropriately once per week
Live beyond your means - live in a large mansion and keep your household funds below 5,000. Spend any additional income on items, spa treatments and activities
Have a fall from grace and leave your children with nothing
Tumblr media
Generation 7 - Metal
Child of metal, you know what it's like to be at rock bottom. Due to your parents neglect and carelessness, you taught yourself all you know to get by and find your next meal, even if you aren't proud of it. You are stubborn, self-reliant and one hell of an evil genius. You won't hit rock bottom again. Ever.
Traits: Evil, Kleptomaniac, Genius, Night Owl, Rebellious
LTW: Become a Master Thief
Job: Criminal Career
Requirements:
As a teen: consistently maintain D's at school, skip school, pull pranks and steal from neighbours
Work for tips as a mixologist in your young adulthood
Master the mixologist skill and learn every drink recipe
Have a found family
Steal an item every week
Never fall below 2,000 simoleons when you are independant. If you do or are about to, start doing whatever is necessary. We will never hit rock bottom
Marry a rich sim, have a child with them and kill your partner off
Tumblr media
Generation 8 - Air
Child of air, your life so far has been turbulent and chaotic. Your parents death has scarred you and you have floated through life lost. You try to travel on the right path for your late parent, but you can't help but feel there is more to life than what meets the eye. There are sounds at night that wake you, unexplained foresight into future events and a pull to the paranormal. Perhaps it is time to stop fighting this unknown path and instead let the winds carry you to where you are meant to be.
Traits: Good, Light Sleeper, Unlucky, Over-Emotional, Neurotic
LTW: Master of Mysticism/Paranormal Profiteer
Job: Fortune Teller/Ghost Hunter
Requirements:
Join a base game job in young adulthood. Quit once you reach level 3
Reach level 10 of your chosen career
Donate money to charity every week to honour your late parent
Marry a supernatural or one of your clients
Do one exceptionally good thing in your lifetime (examples include: cure a supernatural, adopt a child, revive a dead sim)
Have a close relationship with your children
Tumblr media
Generation 9 - Space
Child of space, you certainly are special. With your parents holding a unique view on the world and the afterlife, you grew up with an open mind and childlike awe of life's wonders and mysteries. Your parents advocated for you to question the world, and question you did! You excelled in your studies and took a particular interest in space. Is it true you become a star if you die?
Traits: Genius, Childish, Athletic, Slob, Ambitious
LTW: Perfect Student
Job: Military
Requirements:
Keep straight A's throughout school
Go to university and achieve a perfect GPA
Master the logic skill
Reach space by becoming an astronaut (Reach level 10 of the military career)
Have an alien baby
563 notes · View notes
aureatchi · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
˚୨୧ 。 ˚ IT WAS A NIGHT TO REMEMBER . — osamu dazai
Tumblr media
⟢ SYNOPSIS. after a long week of work, you and your best friend retreat to a bar to distract yourself from your responsibilities. however, you find it unfulfilling and decide you need to just go home. as you head out the door, you bump into someone more than familiar.
Tumblr media
a/n. it’s the way i immediately thought of him when i first heard this song. <3
info. fem!reader. exes to lovers!au. we have the full recipe…fluff; light angst; gets really sugg. mentions of drinking; scars. your best friend hates dazai. hc dazai doesn’t bandage his tummy. (ᗒᗜᗕ) ノ wc. 3.6k
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“It’s just a lot.”
You just finished the final shift of your job for the week, and you were more than exhausted and burnt out. You had called your best friend immediately after to get some comfort, and despite how busy she was, she agreed to meet you for some drinks and listen to you rant.
“My coworker’s getting on my last nerve,” you continued venting. You had already told her about select crappy people you had to interact with during the day and then your boss, who regarded you with no empathy whatsoever. “Today’s already been bad enough, and then she decides to just pile more stress on me.”
You swished the ice around your emptied glass, creating clanking sounds while coating the cup in water.
“Maybe you should just quit,” your friend replied, taking a sip out of her glass. “I would’ve been long gone if I had to deal with annoying people all around, nine to five.”
She looked up at you. “Besides, you’re well off anyway. I don’t see why you’re working. Are you…trying to distract yourself?”
You sighed. She knew you too well.
“Love, don’t tell me you’re still hung up over—“
“It’s not what you think,” you cut her off, yet you avoided eye contact. It was easier to lie that way. “I just feel I’d have too much free time on my hands. I’m not sure what I’d do with it.”
You let out a dry chuckle. That wasn’t wholly false in itself, either. At your age, everyone had their own things going on—your best friend being an example. Therefore, you couldn’t find much time to go out with any of your friends, and you weren’t interested in meeting new people either.
You could blame your job. Perhaps the ones you meet every day put a sour taste on your tongue, making you lose any desire to interact with strangers. You could blame your exhaustion. Or…
“Honestly, I think that calls for someone new in your life,” your friend replied. “That’ll surely cure your boredom.”
“No thanks. I don’t feel like dating anyone right now.”
“I’m just kidding,” she laughed. “But it’d help you feel less lonely, no?”
“…you didn’t believe my answer to your earlier question, huh?”
“No. Of course not.”
It had been over five months since you broke up with your boyfriend. You tried seeing people after that, but in truth, you were only using them to try to move on.
Once you realized that it wasn’t working and it wasn’t fair for others to play with feelings, you decided to take on a new job on the other side of the city so you’d still get out of your house and have a change of scene.
“…But you know what? Screw him. I will keep saying again and again, I hate that man. Suicidal maniac. I know it’s hard, but you’re too hot to keep dwelling on this. You need to learn to move o—”
Your friend’s phone suddenly buzzed, interrupting her little lecture.
She picked it up, and you waited for her to finish speaking.
“I’m sorry, I think I got to go. I left my boyfriend with my cat, and he just told me he lost her already…” she shook her head. “Have you gotten out everything you wanted to say?”
“Yeah, thanks,” you replied. “I think I’ll go home soon, too. Not really feeling it.”
She stood up, handing you a bill with a smile. “Drinks on me tonight. Don’t complain—I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer. And we didn’t order much anyway.”
“That’s okay; I appreciate you coming to listen to me anyway,” you replied.
“The offer is still open, by the way! If you want to find someone, I’ll schedule a date by this weekend.”
You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Thanks.”
You only had one more drink before you decided to leave, still mostly sober—you figured it’d just be best if you’d take care of yourself at home.
Another thing your job was also distracting you from was witnessing all the relationships around you. Your friend had to go home for her boyfriend. You noticed a few couples at the bar you were at. You’d probably see more when you walked outside.
Not that you minded, is what you tried to tell yourself every single time. You didn’t have to be with someone. It’s okay to have a break.
But was it okay to still have a particular person at the back of your head all the time?
You stood up, leaving the bill and tip for your bartender before you walked toward the door. Opening it caused the bell attached to it to jingle. You were greeted by a cool, night breeze—and someone’s torso.
“O-Oh, sorry,” you replied, too tired to even catch the face of the person you bumped into.
But you had no choice when the man didn’t move out of the doorframe to walk in or allow you to pass.
So, when you met the almost-surprised, caramel-kissed eyes on a face framed with dark brown bangs and wavy hair, you felt your heart plunge into your stomach.
You whispered his name—almost scared to say it, the syllables feeling foreign from not having spoken it aloud for months.
“…Osamu.”
He was halfway through saying your name when you dashed for the exit, shoving him aside and speed-walking out.
“Wait! Bel—“ he caught himself and shouted your name once more.
You started walking down the parking lot, unsure of where you were trying to go, except away—away from Dazai. You had forgotten this bar was in the heart of the city. You didn’t know Dazai came to this one, but you knew his work was somewhere close.
“Hey!” you felt a breeze behind your back, and then a hand gently land on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.
“What…why are you following me?”
You turned around, getting your second full view of your ex for the night.
His hair was a bit longer. He still had those bandages on his neck—did he bother to change them out recently? His scent was as still as you remembered—grassy and toasty, a resemblance to green tea.
“I’m not sure why I’d leave a girl I know to walk alone at night,” he shrugged. “It’s dangerous!”
You continued walking, not responding to his reply.
“Where are we going?”
“Who’s we?”
“Aw, that was really rude.”
You ignored Dazai, making sure your stroll stayed a few feet in front of him.
You then entered a park, him trailing behind you.
“Why were you at the bar alone?”
“That’s none of your business.” You walked down the path, trees casting dark shadows onto the grass under the moon’s light.
“…And I wasn’t alone the entire time. I was with a friend, but she left to attend something.”
Dazai nodded, trying to catch up to your face. You immediately gave him more than enough space when he reached you, not wanting any invasion of your personal space.
“But you usually don’t drink unless you’re either celebrating or stressed,” he said. “And from what I’ve seen, it looks like the latter.”
You stopped again. “Again, it’s none of your business. Maybe you should focus on yours. You go and drink tons when you’re stressed, too.”
“Hey, I’ve actually gotten better at that…”
“You still ended up at a bar midweek.”
“But I didn’t even go in, no? I’m with you at a park right now.”
You were silent once again. But now you couldn’t complain that he was following you.
Why do I care if he drinks or not?
No. It’s normal. You’d care for the well-being of anyone you know.
You approached a set of swings in the center of the park. It had been ages since you’d been on one, swinging back and forth in carefree.
“Want me to push you?” you heard Dazai over your shoulder when you examined the equipment.
“Heck no,” you responded.
“Why not? It’d be fun!” He moved closer.
“No! I’m not sure if it’d even carry me,” you laughed. “It’s for kids.”
“You can try it. Just sit. And I’ll catch you if it breaks—“
“Shut up. I can catch myself.” You lowered yourself onto the seat, seeing that the metal poles did hold. You swung yourself a bit to test if it’d keep up your weight.
“It works.”
“Great! Can I push you now?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t trust you.”
“I won’t kill you, bel—I won’t! I promise.” Dazai childishly held out a pinkie toward you.
You sighed. “Fine. Just please don’t push me too high.” You clasped your pinkie around his.
“I got you!” You felt palms on your back, and then a light push that moved you forward, and then gravity pulled you back toward him.
Everything pulls me back to him—my mind and the universe both.
You were suddenly pushed higher, catching you off guard. You felt yourself fly multiple feet off of the ground, and you clutched the metal in panic.
“H-Help—Osamu!”
“You’re fine. You won’t fall,” Dazai chuckled. He pushed you again, sending you even higher than the previous time. You wanted to scream, but it came out more as a laugh.
“Is the thrill fun?” he asked while you were in the air, noticing your smile.
“Yeah, it is—HEY!”
Dazai had pushed you hard, sending you swinging all around the equipment, in a complete three-sixty.
“Osamu!” you cried, the momentum spinning you around once more. You couldn’t stop it—it was too fast.
You were clutched from behind, arms tightly wrapped around your torso to stop the swing. You could hear the sound of Dazai being dragged through the rocks below, but he was able to ground the both of you before you went flying again.
And you felt warm. Despite the evening’s cool air, you felt like you were encompassed in a fireplace’s heat on a winter day.
“Got you.”
You let out a giant exhale of relief. And then, you turned around in anger.
“I told you not to push me that high!”
“But I didn’t kill you, did I? You stayed on the swing the entire time! You were safe! Plus, I think you enjoyed it.”
You stood up, causing Dazai to let go of his arms. “I’m dizzy now.”
“Do you need water? We can buy some. And did you drive here?”
“No, I took a taxi.”
“Let me drive you home then,” he said.
“I think I’m fin—“
“Please,” he cut you off almost urgently, but then he caught his tone and reverted.
“I mean, many kidnappers disguise themselves as taxi drivers. Especially at night.”
“You’re still so cynical,” you replied. “Stop being so protective. It’s not like we’re…nevermind, sorry.”
You didn’t dare look at Dazai’s expression.
You each got a yogurt drink, and it helped soothe your dizziness immediately.
You walked by Dazai silently, but compared to earlier in the night, you were no longer repulsed to standing by him.
He opened his car door for you before getting in his seat on the other side.
“What have you been up to these past months?”
You asked as he found his keys, turning them into gear.
“A case. It’s something huge going on.”
Dazai’s work accounted for part of your breaking up with him. He was too secretive—despite you knew that he trusted you so much that he explained to you exactly what his job consisted of, and he only left details out to protect you from getting involved, you couldn’t handle it.
Maybe you were selfish for that. But you needed to know what your boyfriend was up to—if he was safe. Perhaps that was another reason why. You would never let him go if you knew of the exact danger he was volunteering himself in.
“I see. Sleeping okay?”
“If I do, sure.” He was suddenly reaching over your body, grabbing your seatbelt.
Your heartbeat fastened as Dazai hovered over you, pausing to look at anticipating eyes and a risky glance at slightly parted lips.
He sighed before fastening the buckle and moving away, acting like nothing happened.
You two drove in silence, you gazing out of the car window to admire how the city looked in the absence of the sun.
A song was suddenly put on. You looked at Dazai.
“Do you still like this song?”
“Yeah,” you replied. He had put on your favorite song, indeed.
You silently thanked him for it. The awkward tension to speak to one another had vanished; you could indulge yourself in music.
Until it ended, of course, but by then, you could see you were almost home.
“Osamu.”
“Yes?”
“This was a really bad idea. I hope I never see you again after this.”
“Probably, but maybe I wanted it to happen. Maybe I thought about you so much that I had to seize this opportunity.”
“What?”
“What if I hope to see you again after this?”
“You can go flirt with any other girl for entertainment.” He did a lot of that, too. Even if it was Dazai’s most efficient tactic for getting information, he had also said he simply couldn’t help it sometimes.
“I don’t find that interesting anymore.”
You looked at his distant, faint reflection through your window.
“…you think about me?”
You were answered with a nod.
Dazai turned, pulling you into your driveway.
“I’ll continue to even more after tonight,” he said. “Whether we see each other again or not. It plagues my mind every day. What I could’ve done better—how much you deserve that I failed to reach.”
He parked. “Of course, I’ve tried to move on. It’s the most fair thing to do for you. But if someone were to ask me, bella, saying that I don’t still love you would be a lie.”
“You’re selfish,” you commented.
“I know. I’m very.”
You opened the door, stepping out of the car.
“Thank you for driving me,” you said.
You walked towards your front door and then looked back at Dazai, who was standing by his side of the car.
You contemplated for a second.
“D-do you have something to do for the rest of the night?” you carefully asked.
“No.”
“Can you stay? Just for a bit. We can talk about things. And hopefully, you get some answers that will help you stop occupying your mind of me.”
You said that as if you were trying to convince yourself, rather Dazai.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” You pushed open the door.
Dazai followed you as you walked through the house—through the hallway and to the kitchen.
“Do you want something to eat? Or drink?”
“I’m okay, thanks,” he replied.
“Alright. Uh…feel free to make yourself at home. I’m going to change, I’ll be right back.”
You walked into your room, first washing your face in the bathroom. You stared at your face through the window, noticing how pigmented your cheeks were.
Why did I do this?
You were in the middle of changing your pajamas when Dazai knocked on your door.
“Can I come in?”
“Uh—“ you hastily buttoned two thirds of your shirt before, “Yeah.”
A smell of your favorite scent immediately flowed into the room as Dazai came in. It was of the candles you had around your house.
“You lit my candles?”
“Yeah. I got curious because the flavors looked nice. I like them. The scent matches you perfectly.”
“Oh…thanks,” you mumbled. You didn’t know how else to respond.
Dazai glanced around your room. Some things changed—you had moved some things around, redone the decor on your nightstands, changed your bed sheets…what he didn’t know was that you actually donated them after the break-up so you would never see them again.
“Did you need something?”
“Yeah. Do you still happen to have bandages?”
“Yes.” You had Dazai sit on the bed while you searched your closet for the box of bandages you would keep for whenever he came over. Unlike your sheets, you had kept them for your emergency first aid.
Or in case he happened to be in an emergency.
“What do you think you could’ve done better?”
There was a silence right after. You had hit Dazai with a hard question first.
“I’d stop disappearing so much without warning. I only realized how much I took that for granted when we stopped seeing each other. I would try to communicate better…” He looked down. “I’m terrible at it, I know, but I would try harder.”
“Why me? You could move on and find some other girl to treat right the first time.” You found the box, pulling it out.
“Because I would feel like a loser,” he added your name to the end of the sentence. “I was a total jerk to someone who loved me, and then I decide to switch it up for someone new and pretend to start on a clean slate? No, bella—I’m cursed with not forgetting and forgiving myself of the past. It feels cowardly.”
“Osamu, stop. You hurt me, yes, but you weren’t the only one in the wrong.
“I-I’m sorry.” You hadn’t apologized to him yet, through months.
You noticed his eyes almost widen, surprised.
“And I also forgive you. It took awhile, but I’m forgiving you of the mistakes that hurt me,” you continued. “And I’m apologizing to you too. So please forgive yourself. You don’t need to feel guilt.
“It’s only fair to you as well to move on.”
“Why, bella? How is it fair? How is it fair when the only person I want to see is you?”
“Osamu.”
You were right in front of him, the closest you’d been to him that night, discarding how he had tightly hugged you on the swing earlier. You were drowned in emotion that surrounded his desperate pleas.
“Can you please bandage me?”
“Why?”
“I miss your touches.”
You regret asking. He had no shame in expressing his thoughts, no matter what you two were going through. You regret asking, yet…
“Your coat.”
You climbed behind and rid Dazai of the top portion of his clothes—his vest and dress shirt. Then, you started unwinding the bandages on his arms, chest, and neck.
Gently, your fingers grazed the scars that hid underneath his attire, and his mind. Months ago, you had learned what every single mark came from after knowing where each one was—it was one detail Dazai fully opened to you about.
You were thankful you couldn’t see scars of the heart.
He would have thrice as many. Perhaps one of them would include you.
You rewrapped Dazai, leaving only his stomach unbandaged. You moved to do his neck when he paused you with his eyes, mere inches away from his face.
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
You wish he weren’t so pretty. You would’ve been able to rationalize yourself quickly—you would’ve been able to give him a final answer without hesitating. But he ended up being the face of your dreams and the depth of your heart.
“I tell myself it’s fair,” you whispered. His nose was almost touching yours. “I tell myself it’s better that we’re done. But my heart isn’t so sure. It asks the same—how is it fair? To keep myself longing?”
Your arms were around Dazai’s neck with the bandage, yet you did not move to finish.
His gaze moved to your lips. A hand moved to your hair.
“Is it fair? If it truly is, push me away, bella.”
He didn’t force himself any closer, leaving you with the choice despite his yearning appearance. You could feel the warmth of his body on yours and the soft air of his breaths on your cheeks.
“Yes. It’s fair, Osamu.” You came to your conclusion.
Yet, you dropped the bandages, cupped his face towards you, and pressed your lips on his.
“But I’m selfish too.”
You moved your hands to waft through brunette locks as Dazai pulled you onto his lap. He held you tightly—desperate at the acceptance of your invitation.
Closer, along with the fresh scent of green tea, there was a note of sweetness as intoxicating as chocolate. You came to know this pleasant surprise every time you were pressed up against him, tucked well into his embrace.
A hand moved down your waist, tracing your curves. Meanwhile, his kisses became sloppier, changing course to your jaw.
“Bella,” he whispered.
“Osamu?”
“Too much? Just let me know.”
“Don’t stop.”
He planted his lips on your neck, leaving a mark when he moved to the next area.
“I don’t want to lose you again. I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too,” you replied, pulling him down over you.
“Everything about you,” Dazai continued. “It’s enchanting. How you smile when you’re flustered—like right now, and how you react when I touch you here…”
His hand found its way under your shirt, and you started laughing. He knew how and where to draw every specific reaction out of you, including where you were most ticklish.
“Osamu! Stop, hah-!”
You let him stay hovered over you and left his curious hands to wander your skin. Dazai looked free of emotional distress for once—being able to calm just by admiring you. It was like medicine.
“Do you still keep a spare pajama set?” he asked.
“Yes. However, the guest room is being renovated.”
“It’s fine. A couch was a luxury for me at one point.”
“Or you…could stay here. And you can have your favorite side, the side closer to the window.”
“Because I always see how the sun’s rays lay on your skin when I wake up,” he smiled. “And how spellbound your eyes make me when you open them and the light hits it.”
“You remember so much.”
“I told you how much I think about you, belladonna. I remember every night that I’m with you.”
Tumblr media
dazai listens to music w/ u if u rb. reblogs are cherished; they support me as a creator. <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
© AUREATCHI 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal.
572 notes · View notes
sweetbans29 · 8 months ago
Text
Should Have Been Me - CC
Tumblr media
Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Summary: You and Caitlin are home for a weekend to celebrate her brother's birthday - one thing leads to another and nothing is the same.
Warnings: ANGST - PURE ANGST, read at your own will. I would apologize but that would be a lie...
Word Count: 6.3k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: Please don't ask why I did this, I needed the pain. Just let it be. But low-key this is probably one of my favorites that I’ve written. Okay great, thanks!
You and Caitlin are jamming out on the drive home to Des Moines. A few weeks back she mentioned how her younger brother's birthday was coming up and she was planning on making the trip home to be there. She didn't need to ask, knowing you would come.
The two of you grew up together, meeting on the first day of first grade. You two were inseparable. If you weren't at school together, you were at practice or at each other's homes. Your parents accepted when you were girls that they both had two daughters even though she was the only girl among her siblings and you were an only child. You were all essentially one big family.
It came as no surprise to either of them when Caitlin and you told them you were dating in high school. It was a little bit of a hard pill for her parents to swallow but ultimately were supportive of your relationship when they saw how happy you made Caitlin as more than a friend. It wasn't a hard decision when the Hawkeyes came around and scouted both of you out to play college basketball with them. It was both of your dreams, to play college basketball and ultimately make it to the NCAA championship. Eventually to play in the WNBA and that all was coming true right before your eyes. It was the cherry on top that you two were able to do that together on the same team. Not only is your chemistry incredible off the court, but on the court - it's unmatched.
This is your last little getaway before things pick up going into March Madness. Senior year baby and the two of you know you can the team all the way back to the final four.
You pull up to her house and grab your bag from the car. Even though your home was right down the street the two of you planned to spend the Friday night at her house and then head to yours for Saturday night. It works out well as her brother's birthday party is tonight.
Once you get inside, you see her mom going crazy trying to get everything in order before tonight You set your things down and immediately help out wherever she needs. Caitlin does the same but takes some time to catch up with her dad first. Once Cait and her dad jump in, it all comes together.
People begin to arrive and the party comes together. Their home comes to life with friends and family from all over.
Caitlin's mom comes running over to Caitlin and you in a slight panic.
"Caitlin, I need you to go grab Colin from his friends," she says looking at her phone.
"Doesn't he have his car? Why do I need to go grab him? I told Dad that I would help him get the lights up for the party before everyone got here and we are behind." She says getting a little flustered herself.
"His car isn't starting and his friend is out of a car so they have no way of getting here," Caitlin's mom explains.
"I can go get him," you say. "That way you both can stay and finish anything that is needed."
"Oh, you are an angel, sweetheart! Thank you, thank you, thank you," she says while giving you a hug.
"It is no problem, it's my pleasure," you respond and give her a smile. Caitlin gives you a look of gratitude.
Caitlin's mom sends you the address and you give Cait a peck before heading out to grab the boys.
Once you get in your car, you put on your favorite playlist and maps then head out. It was only about a 15-minute drive there. As you are driving, it is just starting to get dark. Your lights turn on automatically as you are driving. You are about 5 minutes out when you are stopped at a light. Once yours turns green, you begin to go and that is when time stops.
*Third person-ish POV*
Caitlin's mom walks over to her and her dad as they are setting up the lights. They are just about finished putting them up - it took a minute to do but they look really good.
"Have you see your little bother yet? I thought they would be back by now," her mom says looking at her phone.
"I am sure they are almost here, Mom," Caitlin says as her arms are holding up the last string of lights for her dad.
"I'm sure you're right," she says as she walks away and goes to tend to the food.
Once the lights are complete, Caitlin goes to look for you. She looks all over the place and can't seem to find you. After about 30 minutes of looking, she finds her mom.
"Hey mom, have you seen (y/n)," she asks, checking her phone to see if there were any messages that she missed.
"I have been trying to call her. Your bother called and asked when we would be there to pick him up," she says and Caitlin begins to get nervous. Looking at the clock, she realizes it has been about an hour since you had left to pick him up and it should have taken you 30 minutes.
Cait gives your phone a ring and it goes straight to voicemail. She begins to look around for your parents, knowing they were here to see if they could get a hold of you. When she finds them, they say they haven't seen her yet.
"Caitlin, can you go get your brother, please? It has been over an hour in and he is still waiting for (y/n)," her mom says, not looking up from her phone. Caitlin grabs her mom's keys and heads out.
As she is driving, she notices there are police detouring cars. Her heart rate begins to pick up. She has to tell herself that it's not you, it couldn't be you. There was no way, you had never been in an accident and you are the best driver she knows. She slows down and makes a slow turn following the detour when she sees it. She sees your car flipped on its side, completely crushed on the driver's side.
She pulls her car over immediately, gets out, and runs to the scene. There is caution tape around the whole area which she completely ignores and runs over to the first ambulance she can see. When she looks inside, she sees a man with a cut on his forehead and arm in a sling. Before she can continue looking, there is a police officer approaching her.
"Ma'am, you can't be over here," he begins to say as he tries to usher you out of the caution-taped area.
"That's my girlfriend's car! I need to find her!" She says as she is in full-blown panic now.
The officer's mannerisms change completely when he hears that the girl in front of him knows who was in the car that was hit.
"Come this way, ma'am," he says in a gentler tone this time.
"No, I need to find (y/n). That is her car, she is here and I need to find her," Caitlin says not seeing the officer's demeanor changing. He grabs her arm and tries to get her to look at him. When she looks at him, he speaks again.
"You should come this way and we can talk," he says slowly, not wanting to spook you. Caitlin goes into a haze. She stops trying to fight the officer and lets him lead her to an easy-up tent that has been set up with lights. He offers her a chair and a bottle of water and sits next to her.
"Would you happen to have contacts for her parents? Someone else we can call to come down and be here with you?" The officer says, still not telling her what happened or where you are.
Caitlin pulls out her phone from her pocket and hands it over to him with your mom's phone number on the screen. Up to this point, no tears had fallen from Caitlin's eyes - if she was feeling anything it was anger. Why wasn't anyone telling her anything? She still had no idea what had happened. The officer passes her phone to another officer and they make the call.
"Can you please tell me what has happened and what's going on? I want to see her, is she okay?" Caitlin begins asking the officer again. She is doing everything in her power to not completely freak out. Her body is numb and she is confused as to where you could be.
"It would be best to wait for her family to be here," the officer begins but is cut off by Caitlin.
"I am her family." She says without hesitation. It was true. Not by blood and not legally, at least not legally yet but between growing up together and the relationship the two of you had been in for the last 6 years, it was only a matter of time before you were married. She had been your family since day one and everyone knew that.
The officer gives her a somber smile and a nod. Giving her a pat on the shoulder as another officer calls him over.
Caitlin sits there and waits, trying to look around at other ambulances to see if she can see you in any of them. If you were hurt, maybe they had already taken you to the hospital and didn't want her to drive in the state she was in.
A few moments pass and Caitlin sees both your parents and hers come running up to the scene. Caitlin stands and immediately hugs her mom. The tears begin to fall the second she is wrapped in safe arms. She still has no idea what is going on but at least now she is not alone.
The officer approaches asking your parents if they are they say they are. He takes them aside and begins explaining what happened. Caitlin breaks away from her mom to look over and see your mom sobbing with your dad trying to hold her as he sheds tears of his own.
"Mom, what happened? They haven't told me anything, I just want to see her," Caitlin says heart beating faster than a race car. Seeing your parents crumble before the officer has her feeling sick. She can't stand still as her foot is tapping and her hands keep playing with either themselves or the bottom of her shirt.
Caitlin's dad nods at her mom as he walks over to your parents and the officer. The officer and her dad both look over to Caitlin and her mom as they turn away. Caitlin sees her dad's shoulder slump and his hand come up to his face. He takes another moment before patting the officer on the shoulder and heading back to where his family is.
He doesn't say anything as he approaches, but rather takes Caitlin in his arms and just holds his daughter.
"Dad," Caitlin begins, hesitant in asking how. The last 45 minutes had felt like an eternity as she had been asking everyone under the sun what had happened. But the way her dad walked over and went to hold her, she no longer wants to know what has happened - she just wants to go back to earlier today when it was you and her against the world on the drive home. She can't seem to find what to ask anymore.
"Baby, I'm so sorry." Is all he says as he holds his baby girl. Something your parents are no longer able to do. Her mom rubs Caitlin's arm.
Caitlin's whole body goes numb, she still doesn't really know what happened but knows enough now to figure out nothing is going to be the same. When it begins to hit her, she feels suffocated by the arms holding her. Her first instinct is to run, to break away from here and run. And that is exactly what she does.
She pushes through her dad's arms and runs. She can hear her parents call for her but she doesn't look back.
She runs for hours finally slowing down when her lungs begin to burn so bad that she is gasping for air. Not that she wanted it - if you weren't with her, what was the point? You had been by her side her whole life and now she was alone. Cait lets out the most primal scream and falls to the ground. She curls up into a ball as the tears begin to fall.
Her mind begins to think of you, to the last moment before you left when you offered to pick up her brother. All she gave you was a little peck - no hug, no I love you. She should have held you and told her she loved you. It is then that it dawns on her, she was the one that was supposed to go. It was Caitlin who was first asked to pick up her brother but she didn't want to leave her dad so you volunteered. It should have been her picking up her brother. Maybe if it was her, things would have turned out differently and you would have still been here. As she is curled up on the side of the street - she feels her body beginning to shut down...
It was the summer before junior year of high school and you and Caitlin were heading home from practice for your club team, Attack. She was driving the two of you back to your house when you mentioned you wanted to stop to get milkshakes. She happily pulled over at your favorite local spot. Once the two of you had gotten your sweet treat, you sat in her car drinking milkshakes and talking about all the possibilities for playing college ball.
"Cait?" You ask as she is finishing her milkshake. She looks up at you. "I love you," you say. Up to this point, the two of you had both told each other you liked each other more than friends and started to explore what that looked like. You would say the two of you had been dating for the past couple of months - keeping it really low-key as you didn't know how the people around you would take it. But there was something about this moment, something about being together and just doing life together that helped you realize she is your everything.
She looks at you slightly shocked.
"You don't need to say it back!" You say, not wanting to pressure her. You just didn't want to go another day without telling her. "I just needed to tell you because, well, I do. I love you, Caitlin Clark."
A goofy little smile makes its way to her face and she pulls you in for a hug. It isn't the most comfortable considering you sitting in a car and have some piece of the center console pushing into your rib cage but you didn't mind.
"I love you," she whispers in your ear as she hugs you.
"Caitlin, sweetie," someone is shaking her arm. "Cait, wake up," they continue to shake her, waking her up.
She looks up, eyes foggy and body in pain. It takes her a few seconds to see it is completely dark and that she is on the side of the road. As she looks around, she realizes she is across the street from your favorite milkshake place. It had closed down a few years back but it was often a place the two of you would go to just sit and talk.
As she sits up, she doesn't remember stopping here. She just remembers running and running until she literally couldn't.
"Caitlin, sweetie," she hears again and looks up. It is your dad who has woken her up, she looks around and it is just him. "We have been looking for you for a while now sweetie."
She just nods. Everything rushed back to her. No one has actually said it to her yet, but she knows. You were gone. Her eyes begin to water again as it is all too much for her to wrap her mind around.
Your dad sits next to her, not ready to make his way back to reality. Sitting there with Cait, has him feeling like you are still here. That you are going to walk up and take them both home and tell them that this was all a dream.
“I don’t know if you remember, but I took you and (y/n) here after your very first basketball practice in elementary school. You both wanted something sweet and I didn’t want to go out of the way on the drive home that I pulled over here in hopes they had something that would satisfy you both. We walked in and they had milkshakes,” he says with a little laugh and sniffle. “(Y/n) had never had a milkshake before but you were so excited and told her it was the best thing in the world. Of course, she believed you, she trusted you with her whole heart and soul and you didn’t disappoint her. That afternoon you two shared a chocolate shake, finished every last drop.”
Caitlin is hugging her legs as tears stream down her face. She doesn’t remember that but it makes it that much more special that this place was your spot.
“Caitlin, has anyone explained what has happened?” He asks hesitantly. He doesn’t want to talk about it but he knows that she deserves to know.
She takes a minute, deciding if she really wants someone to say it. Even though she knows you are gone, for some reason having someone explain what actually happened makes everything that much more real. She finally shakes her head no, not daring to make eye contact. She feels like she would physically fall apart if someone looked into her eyes with any drop of sympathy.
“They said it was fast, that she didn’t feel any pain,” he began, hoping that would provide any ounce of peace to her. “When she was going through the intersection, a drunk driver came and blew through their red light. They impacted the driver's side and she…” he is choked up at this point. It’s not right that a father has to say this about his daughter. “She died upon impact.” He finishes, not sugarcoating it knowing Caitlin also preferred the direct approach.
Caitlin at this point is shaking with pain and anger. Her world has completely flipped due to an idiot making bad decisions. She wants to find the man and bring him all the pain she is feeling but knows that will never bring you back. That’s all she really wants, is you back.
Your dad doesn’t rush Caitlin, he lets her feel everything she needs. If he is honest, he also needs this time. He’s been caring for your mom then went on the hunt with the rest of the family to find Caitlin. He hasn’t had the time to just sit. Not that he really wanted to because that allows the feelings to come in and disrupt peace. How does a dad wrap his mind around losing his baby girl? His only little one.
“I don’t know life without her,” Caitlin speaks for the first time. Her voice is unsteady and broken, desperate. “She’s always been there, I don’t know how to be here without her,” she says as she lets out a cry. She bites her arm to avoid completely losing it. Your dad's hand comes to rub her back and bring her into a hug.
"I know she was your person and you were hers. She will always be a part of you," your dad says trying to calm the broken girl you left behind. "But I also know that she took a part of you and that it is going to take time for you to process and heal."
The two of them sit, not saying much after that. After some time, your dad helps Caitlin into the car, driving her back to her home. On the car ride back, your dad calls Caitlin's dad letting her know that she is with him and they can all head back to their house.
When they arrive, Cait's parents come running out and embrace her in a hug. Her whole body was still numb, her cheeks stained with dried tears. She doesn't have the energy to hug them back, rather just stands there. No thoughts going through her head, she doesn't quite know what to do. How does someone continue living when they are no longer whole?
*One week later*
Caitlin is sitting on her bed, dressed in a simple black dress. Her hair is straightened and her nails are black. They are usually painted white but that just didn’t fit her in the moment. She is mentally preparing to face the crowd of people who are waiting just down the road.
She takes a shaky breath and stands from her bed. She walks up to her dresser and puts on a necklace and bracelet - both were gifts from you. She looks at herself one more time in the mirror. As she is looking at herself, she pictures when the two of you were standing there dressed for a friend’s wedding. It’s almost as if she can see you standing next to her.
She hears a faint knock on her door. She doesn’t respond but the door opens and her mom peaks through.
“Hey baby, are you ready” She asks in a gentle motherly tone. Caitlin just nods. Never in a million years would she picture herself being in this boat.
Cait's dad had already driven over to the church with her brothers. It was going to be Cait and her mom driving there just in case she needed some space to be alone.
As they arrive, there is already a huge crowd of people, all of whom are entering the building. Caitlin's heart rate begins to pick up and she begins to fiddle with the bottom of her dress. Her mom grabs her hand, attempting to calm her. Nothing and no one will ever calm her like you did.
She walks in. There have been countless times Caitlin has imagined walking down this aisle with you but under much different circumstances. Her heart aches at the thought of what could have been.
She takes her seat in the front row between her mom and her dad. As she sits, she makes the mistake of glancing over at your parents. She can tell they are doing everything in their power to keep their composure but she knows they are faking.
The funeral service begins and your dad is the first to go up and speak. Caitlin's mind wanders elsewhere...
It was freshman year of college and the two of you are heading into your Intro to Psych class. The two of you head to the seats you have sat in since day one. In the middle of class, Caitlin feels a weight on her shoulder. When she looks over she sees you - fast sleep on her.
It had been a busy few weeks between double practices and all the homework you two had. Cait knew you had been bending over backwards adjusting and keeping up with all the university required of you.
She leans down and kisses you on the head. You would always say you are an ugly sleeper - granted you had never seen yourself but you could feel it. Caitlin on the other hand would disagree and say you are the cutest when you sleep. She would always say you looked so peaceful, childlike.
Caitlin also knows that you would be pissed if she let you sleep through the lecture. You were the better note-taker and when it would come time to study for the final - Cait wouldn't hear the end of letting you sleep through the review. But on the other hand, your girl knows how little sleep you have been getting, always working on school work or reviewing plays and making sure you were on top of everything.
You let out a little sigh and lean a little further into her - fast asleep. Caitlin lets out a little groan, knowing she would much rather watch you sleep on her than wake you. She slowly begins to move her shoulder, trying to get you to wake up without being startled.
When you don't budge, she leans down and says your name in your ear. You still don't budge.
Finally, she turns a little, trying not to draw attention to the two of you, and moves her arm to squeeze your thigh.
"Babe, you need to wake up," she says, giving your thigh another squeeze.
"Mmmm, don't want to," you mumble and move to take hold of her arm, wrapping your arms around it like it was a pillow.
"Babe, we are still in class." She says with a little laugh - falling a little more in love with you.
This causes you to shoot up, fully alert by her words. You look around and your cheeks redden immediately. Sinking down in your chair - embarrassment filling every ounce of your body.
She hands you your pen back and leans over to kiss your head once again.
"Don't worry babe, you didn't miss much," she says reassuring you.
Caitlin is pulled back to the present - though she much rather stay in the past. The service was ending and there was going to be a time for people to pay their respects to your family. it was being held at your house, Caitlin hasn't been without you - not having the strength to go over to see your parents. Most of the last week was spent in bed, with the exception of when her mom encouraged her to shower.
When she walks into the house, it almost feels foreign. She grew up in this house with you and now it feels unknown. She walks up to your parents. Your mom engulfs her in a hug, mumbling something along the lines of how much she loves her. Cait then steps over to give your dad a hug. The last time she saw him was when he found her on the side of the road. He hugs Caitlin without saying anything until their embrace ends.
"When you are ready, I have something to show you," he says. Caitlin just nods. She isn't ready yet but keeps that in mind.
As Cait makes her way further into the house, her team is standing there. This is the first time seeing anyone outside of your family since that night.
Kate is the first one to come up to Caitlin and pull her into a hug. Kate is crying as she hugs her. When Caitlin is in public settings - she doesn't tend to cry, she does everything in her willpower not to because someone had to stay composed and when you were around, it wasn't you. She hugs Kate back and rubs her back.
All the girls give their condolences and talk about their favorite memories with you. Kate is holding Caitlin's hand, grounding her.
Caitlin stands there, trying to be polite and listen to how much they all loved you and adored you but she was crawling in her skin. None of this still feels right. Somewhere in Caitlin's mind and heart, she is waiting for you to walk through the front door and tell everybody that there is no one to mourn and that she is okay. But that was all just a dream.
Caitlin excuses herself and decides she wants to be alone. She begins walking and before she knows it, she is standing at the door to your room. The door is closed and she doesn't remember this being the destination she was looking for.
Her breath begins to unease itself as her hand comes to the doorknob. She twists it and opens the door, not yet daring to take a step inside. She stands looking around - the all too familiar space feeling empty. A pain builds in her chest as she walks through and makes her way to your dresser.
She looks at all that it holds. Little trinkets that the two of you saw value in, old jewelry, and many pictures of the two of you. Photos of you growing up and in high school. Her fingers run along your face on all of them - tears finally making an appearance on her own.
She then makes her way to your closet - bringing an old high school basketball sweatshirt into her chest. She inhales the scent of it, dampening it with her tears. She puts it on and hugs her arms around her body. She makes her way over to your bed and runs her hands over it, remembering all the times she had spent the night here with you. She lays down and curls up into a ball.
Looking over, she sees an old teddy bear that the two of you had made at Build-a-Bear for one of your anniversaries. She takes hold of the bear and snuggles into it - finally allowing her sobs to release.
Every time she begins to feel better, she gets hit by another truck. This one being the second biggest only to the night it all happened.
After some time, she finally begins to settle down. She sees your dad pass by. Caitlin gets up and runs to the doorway, calling for him.
"Caitlin," he begins, as he slightly peers into your room. "We haven't been in (Y/n's) room since it happened, we haven't had the strength to..." He continues.
"You said you had something you wanted to show me?" She asks, not really sure if she is ready but wants to know.
"Oh yes, wait here, let me grab it," he says and goes to get something from your parent's room. He comes back holding something in his hand.
He passes it to Caitlin. It is a small velvet box. Caitlin's hands begin to shake.
"When you are ready, you can open it. It doesn't have to be now, but I know it belongs to you." He says as there is some confusion written on Caitlin's face. He explains. "This was my mother's, she passed it down to Y/n when she mentioned the two of you started dating. We have been holding onto it but like I said, it's yours." He chokes out the last part and excuses himself.
Caitlin goes to sit on your bed and just stares at the box in her hands.
She slowly opens the box to see the most beautiful diamond ring sitting in it. Tears begin to fall again as she removes it from the box and places it on her finger.
It's your grandmother's wedding ring. Your grandmother had given you her wedding ring for when you were ready to ask Caitlin to marry you. Caitlin looks at the ring on her finger and clutches her hand to her chest - you were going to ask her to be your wife.
As Cait was going to close the box, a little piece of paper caught her eye. She pulls it out and opens the folded piece. She whispers the words on the page.
"Dear Y/n, It is clear to me how much you love Caitlin. I could see it before the two of you started dating, it was only a matter of time. She is your person like your grandfather was to me. I am giving you this ring for when the time is right and you are ready to build a life with her. May you love each other more and more each day, as your grandfather and I did. I love you, sweet girl. - Grams"
Caitlin struggled through the letter but was glad she did. She realized you had been holding on to this ring for the past 5 years.
*Two months later*
Caitlin was back at school and back at practice with the girls. Each girl on the team took turns watching over Caitlin. It was never said but she knew, at no point was she ever alone except to sleep.
Tonight was her first game back and it has been a love-hate relationship getting back on the court. Basketball has always been her love but it was off-putting being on the court without you. The two of you had played together for so long, neither of you had to think when it came to making things happen. Coming back to practice it was like learning a whole new sport.
As the team was in the locker room before the game - they were getting a talk from Coach Bluder before taking the court for the first game of March Madness.
"We are going to go out there and give our everything. There is nothing we are not ready for - each and every one of you has put in the blood, sweat, and tears and we are going to show the world that this is our time." She says getting the team fired up. Her final words bring silence among the group. "As we go out there, we are going out there incomplete. We are missing someone who has changed this team for the better and when we step foot onto that court, we are walking out there in her honor. Y/n will always be a part of this team and as she carried this team as captain before - she still does today."
Caitlin fiddles with the ring that would have wed the two of you and safety pins it to the left side of her sports bra. There was no way she was walking out there without you with her.
The team lines up in silence - ready to go out and honor you. And that is exactly what they did.
Iowa went 91-65, absolutely crushing the first round of March Madness. Your team fought its way back to the Final Four and Caitlin dedicated every game to you.
The night of the Final Four was a battle - UConn put up an amazing fight, but the Hawkeyes came out on top. After the game - it was decided that Caitlin would step into the post-game press conference. Her first one since your passing.
As she sits down, the crowd takes a second to settle, surprised seeing her out there considering she hadn't been in any of the previous ones despite being an all-star in each of them.
The press starts asking questions about the game and how the team was able to pull the win off. Everything was going smoothly until one reporter asked about you.
"Caitlin, there was a loss on your team right earlier in the season - how has that affected the team dynamic?" The reporter asks.
She was expecting someone to ask but even anticipating the question, it took her some time to gather her thoughts. Just as she was about to speak - Kate stepped up and responded for her. Caitlin was extremely thankful and when Kate was done she finally found the words she wanted to say.
"No one on this team has felt the loss of Y/n more than I have. She was my #1 on and off the court," she says beginning to get choked up. "Her absence is felt deeper than anyone can imagine and this team will never be the same without her."
'I will never be the same without her' is what Caitlin wanted to say but couldn't between the tears that began to fall. Kate passed her a towel, which she gladly accepted. She tried so hard to keep it together but it was all still so fresh.
That night, Kate and some of the other girls spent the night at Caitlin's so she wouldn't have to be alone. It had only been a few months but Caitlin was afraid she would never truly heal from you.
*One year later*
Caitlin was living out the dream the two of you talked about so often. She was in the WNBA and was playing for the Indiana Fever. She had an incredible rookie year and was currently at an awards night where she was going to receive the Rookie of the Year award.
The night was going well and it was time for the award presentation. When they announce Caitlin as rookie of the year, she ascends the stage and accepts the award, giving the commissioner a hug before taking her place to make her speech.
"First off, I want to say a huge thank you to my team - if it wasn't for them taking me in like they did, I wouldn't be standing here today. I want to thank my Iowa team who grew me and shaped me. Thank you to my parents and brothers for always pushing me and believing in me and my ability." She looks down at the award and at her hand that wears her ring. "The last thank you I want to give is to Y/n, my wife." She says it knowing the weight it holds but it comes out so naturally.
"I owe my everything to her. She was my supporter from day one and every day after that she wouldn't settle for anything less than my best. Even when I would say I was giving her my all - she would push me past that, strengthening me and showing me who I truly had the potential to become. I stand before you all today because of her love of this sport, and her love of me." Caitlin makes the slightest adjustment to look up, to anyone in the audience it looks like she is looking up at the balcony but all those who knew you, know that she is looking up to you. "Baby, we did it," she says as a single tear rolls down her cheek. "We are living out our dream."
AN: DON'T ASK ME TO APOLOGIZE BECAUSE I WON'T. Please let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍
402 notes · View notes
litnerdwrites · 8 months ago
Text
Feyre betrayed Nesta in the worst way...
It's a common stance that many people, regardless of if they love or hate Nesta/Rhys/the IC, seem to have, but I don't think it is. Was Nesta complacent in keeping it from her since she found out? Yes. Was that wrong of her? Yes again. Was blurting it out the way that she did also not ideal, to put it mildly? Absolutely yes. But was it out of malice? No.
And Nesta didn't care. Couldn't think around the roaring. 'Have any of them told you, their respected High lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?' Amren barked, 'Shut your mouth!' But her order was confirmation enough. Face paling, Feyre whispered again, 'What do you mean?' 'The wings,' Nesta seethed. 'The boy's Illyrian wings will get stuck in your Fae body during the labour, and it will kill you both.'
The idea that this was all said in malice just never sat right to me, and after scrolling through some comments on a video discussing the matter, the pieces finally clicked into place. First, let's talk about the hike, though.
Her breakdown after that hike wasn't a moment of catharsis and letting walls down. It was a weeks worth of exhaustion, dehydration and depression that resulted in Nesta giving in to the torture she was put through just to end it. It was a pivotal moment in the IC's efforts to break and then reconstruct her to their liking, or rather, to Feyre's liking. However, a vital stepping stone in reaching this point would be for them to gaslight and isolate her until she truly had no one. I mentioned before that I didn't think anyone in the NC would chose Nesta, and this is an example of why I believe that.
Nesta snarled, but Feyre stepped between them, hands raised. 'This conversation ends now. Nesta, go back to the House. Amren, you...' She hesitated, as if considering the wisdom of ordering Amren around. Feyre finished carefully, 'You stay here.'
Nesta is clearly upset and hurting and Feyre disregards that entierly, not even offering to discuss or find out why Nesta is hurt or feeling the way she is. Feyre didn't bother to try and understand Nesta before and she isn't bothering now. Either Feyre assumes she knows what Nesta is thinking/ feeling, or she just doesn't care. She dismisses her, telling her to go back to her prison, disregarding Nesta's choices, autonomy and opinions again.
If I recall right, it was Amren who informed Nesta that she was free to go where she wanted if she made it down the ten thousand steps. Feyre wouldn't order Amren, even to stand up for her sister, but happily go against Amren's own words to punish Nesta? Hypocrisy at it's finest.
All of this leads to one outcome: Nesta feeling trapped. Cornered and without a single ally in the whorld who would defend her properly. Isolated from anyone who'd be willing to treat her with decency, while believing she doesn't even deserve the basics of kindness. It leaves Nesta more prone to actually going through with committing suicide, since the behaviour of these people, mixed with her own self hatred, sets a precedent for how Nesta believe she'd be treated.
We see this when Nesta first meets Emerie, thinking to herself that 'the invitations would stop' when Emerie learned what nesta was really like. Or at least what Nesta perceived herself to be like.
Even though Nesta has Emerie and Gwyn, she has no reason to think, based on what brainwashing the IC has already done coupled with her self deprecating mindset, that they wouldn't side with the IC. This isn't to say Emerie and Gwyn are like the IC by any means. I think they're great friends to Nesta, and if that changes or not later on is more so up to SJM and her writing, rather than their characterisation. It's the reality that the IC have created for Nesta through abuse, gaslighting and borderline torture that's wound up feeding in to Nesta's already existing trauma and self worth that has lead to her becoming isolated this way.
And Nesta didn't care. Couldn't think around the roaring. 'Have any of them told you, their respected High lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?'
The comment on the video I saw explained that, while Nesta was angry when saying this, she wasn't trying to hurt Feyre or take her anger out on anyone. Nesta was angry because she wasn't told that she made a new trove. She was angry that these people had the audacity to vote on her life, and take bodily autonomy from her. She was angry that Feyre wasn't acknowledging or even trying to understand how Nesta was feeling. She was angry that she was treated like the bad guy- or more like a petulant child in this scene, I suppose- and had her feelings dismissed again.
Dismissed the way her mother/grandmother used to when she was trained. The way her father did when he refused to hunt. The way the Mortal Queens did when Nesta merely asked them to save her people. The way Feyre did when she asked for Nesta's help again, and again, and again during the war, only for it to never be enough in the eyes of other. The way that Elain did when she got upset at Nesta time and time again for how she handled her trauma or how she wasn't over her trauma or how Nesta tried to protect her. The way Cassian dismissed her feelings when he got mad at her for having an opinion of Rhysand.
Nesta was angry. She had every right to be angry. Most people would be angry, and alone, and if they already had suicidal thoughts like Nesta, having been abandoned by everybody while gaslit into thinking it was fine, and then only called upon to be used for the benefit of others while the snickered behind her back and dismissed her again.
As the commenter put it; She was trying to find someone who would relate to her anger. Nesta wanted an ally, someone who wouldn't leave her alone. Someone to be by her side and, perhaps subconsciously, thought that Feyre, who'd hunted for them and helped look after them for years, would chose Nesta's side.
The parallels between Nesta and Feyre's situation here are clear, and I think Nesta understood that when she said what she said. I think that Feyre believing Nesta said it to hurt her was a gross misunderstanding on her part, but it's not like she ever asked Nesta how she felt. Now that I think about it, for all that Feyre talks about Nesta feeling too much, and taking everything to heart, she never once confirms with Nesta. Never asks how Nesta feels.
Since coming to the Night Court, Nesta's feelings and traumas have been twisted and spoken about only in relation to how Feyre feels.
'Do you know how embarrassed I was when we got the bill this morning and my friends-my family- had to hear all about it?'
The intervention began, not because of Nesta doing something to risk hurting herself, but because Feyre was embarrassed and started crying into her breakfast.
'All of it pains me… It pains me that Nesta has become… this. It pains me that she and Feyre are always at each other’s throats. It pains me that Feyre hurts over it, and I know Nesta does, too.'
Cassian is pained, not because Nesta is suffering so greatly that she isolated herself for her own sisters (who didn't really act like sisters between the end of ACOWAR to... well now, so it's understandable), or because Nesta felt her only reprieve from her pain was in sex and alcohol, but because Feyre hurts over it. He knows Nesta does (but he doesn't know she hates fire? Or is uncomfortable at their social gatherings, since in ACOFS he somehow hoped she wouldn't take the bribe money and say she enjoyed their solstice party??? Because...Why?) But, of course, it's Feyre's feelings on the matter that are prioritised.
'Nesta is Nesta. She does what she wants, even if it kills her sister.'
Rhysand, not that I expect much from him, honestly, is utpse, not because he can't find a way to help Nesta. Not because his court is actively cruel to Nesta, hell, he joins in. Not because Nesta is in pain, in no small part because of him and his court. Not even because Nesta is spending his money. Because she's upsetting Feyre. Because, god forbid, Nesta have trauma and handle it in a way that doesn't make his wife happy.
Feyre tells others how she thinks Nesta feels, the others go with it, or just come to their own conclusions, not sure which is worse, but nobody stops to consider how she feels. Feyre feeling like Nesta said it to hurt her, I think, is simply proof that she doesn't understand Nesta.
Let me ask you, if you found out you were lied to in a way that affects your ability to make informed decisions regarding your own body, by someone you were supposed to trust, and who should've had your back, and that your own sibling has been betrayed by the same people in a very similar, if not identical way, and yet you're the one being turned into the bad guy, and dismissed, would that not make you feel isolated and frustrated?
It's understandable that Nesta tried, either consciously or subconsciously, feel less alone by appealing to common ground to find an ally. Nesta mentions at the end of ACOSF that she believes Feyre loved her from the start, and after those years in the cabin, I think Nesta sees Feyre as someone reliable.
This scene doesn't feels like Nesta trying to hurt Feyre. It feels like Nesta trying to reach out to the one person she could rely on; Feyre. Her mother was abusive, her father was a deadbeat, Elain was her ward, and the IC hate her.
'Nesta studied me for a long moment. And then she said with equal quiet, though we could all hear, “I can’t get into a bathtub, anymore. I have to use buckets.” I hadn’t known—hadn’t even thought that bathing, submerging water…'
Amren tells Cassian to keep reaching out his hand, even though Nesta has reached out her own time and time again. Esspecially to Feyre, as she was the one Nesta relied on before. Possibly even the only person Nesta has ever relied on, and Fyre was the one she was trying to rely on now.
Nesta relied on Feyre, and needed to rely on her again. To have strength together, in a situation where they both lost their choices and autonomy to Rhysand and his (cause don't pretend it's even slightly Feyre's) IC.
It may have been wrong to say it in that way, at that time, under those circumstances, but this, to me, feels like Nesta's way of reaching out her own hand only to be misunderstood, punished, and dismissed again. And again. And again.
In a way, I think Feyre might have, unintentionally, betrayed Nesta in a worse way than Elain ever has. Elain was a ward. Almost like a child, to Nesta. They were never on equal footing. Moreover, Nesta was never punished if she upset Elain, no that she should be, or if Elain misunderstood her. Nesta never relied on Elain the way she relied on Feyre. She never trusted or had faith in Elain, the way she clearly trusted Feyre. She had thought she'd found an ally, with similar pain, in Feyre, in the moments she spilled the secret, but Feyre didn't care.
When I was reading the scene where Cassian told Feyre his idea to take Nesta on a punishment hike, she sounded all too gleeful when telling him how miserable Nesta would be. That, in my opinion, is the worst betrayal of all.
242 notes · View notes