#a new path to the waterfall

[happy-mokka]

"And did you get what you wanted from this life, even so?"

"I did."

"And what did you want?"

"To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth."

"Late Fragment"

by Raymond Carver

from "A new Path to the Waterfall"

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

I think I need that "Wow, I haven't stubbed my toe in five months! I was then shot fifty-seven times." Audio again

[shallowbreeze]

Sheer Path Beside Waterfall

Sheer Path Beside Waterfall, more commonly known as Sheer, is a small, dark brown tabby tom.

[patrick-jennings]

Serenity Amongst the Pitfalls

A poem about how the beauty of a spiritual path is find primarily in the pitfalls and sidesteps that characterise it, and that there are moments of serenity on any journey.

Though journeys be fraughtWith pitfalls and wanderingsKnow the beauty of the path That the pitfalls and wanderingsMake the path beautiful That serenity finds its moments Continue reading Untitled

[uchideirdre]

I forgot I am not rich in my multiple acnh homes and it’s actually stupidly intricate to set up for a scorpion island or buy / sell the turnips or get golden roses going. I am kinda looking forward to redesigning/ or redecorating the on island villagers but I also am moving their houses AND IT TAKES FOREVER.

[celestemona]

⋆˙⟡ — CONSTANT AS A RIVER, PERPETUAL AS MOUNTAINS

cw: no pronouns mentioned. just pure cuteness.

High above the forest floor, Kinich perched silently in the upper branches of a towering tree, his body still and balanced like a natural extension of the canopy. Below him, the landscape unfolded into a maze of thick trees, jagged rock faces, and the distant, thunderous roar of the waterfall cascading down the mountain. The air was thick with the scent of damp leaves and fresh water, the humidity clinging onto everything.

From this height, Kinich had a clear view of the world below—a vantage point that made him feel at home, with the winds sweeping through the treetops and the sway of the branches beneath him. His tribe had long since adapted to this unforgiving landscape, where cliffs loomed, trees stretched endlessly into the sky, and the terrain was as treacherous as it was beautiful. To outsiders, this place was inhospitable. To Kinich, it was perfect.

His sharp eyes followed you, who was on the floor far below, walking with a carefree grace that stood in stark contrast to the harshness of the environment around you. You moved with ease, your steps light as if you danced along the path, humming softly to yourself. Your hair fluttered in the breeze, and every so often, you’d pause to marvel at the way the light filtered through the trees' forms above, casting intricate patterns of shadow and light across your skin.

A small smile tugged at Kinich’s lips as he watched you, hidden from view. There was something magnetic about your presence—how you could bring warmth and life to even the most untamed of places. He admired your resilience and fearlessness, your ability to thrive in a land most would shy away from. Even now, you didn’t seem at all fazed by the singular nature that surrounded you.

From above, he could see how your eyes lit up every time you discovered something new—a strange flower, the movement of a saurian group nearby, or the iridescent glitter of sunlight against the waterfall in the distance. There was a joy to the way you moved, an uninhibited energy that drew him in and made him want to stay and watch you forever.

You suddenly stopped and tilted your head upward, squinting at the towering branches as if you could feel his gaze. “Kinich?” you called out, your voice slightly playful. “I know you’re up there somewhere.”

Kinich smirked, though he didn’t move or answer right away. He stayed hidden, knowing you’d keep searching, your instincts sharp enough to sense when he was near.

Your eyes scanned the treetops, and then your smile grew wider. “Come on. Don’t make me climb all the way up there just to find you,” you complained, putting a hand on your hip. “You know I will.”

That was enough to stir Kinich into action. With the quiet grace of a true Scion of the Canopy, he leaped from the branch he was perched on, landing silently on a lower one before dropping to the ground with barely a sound. Your face lit up when you saw him, eyes sparkling with delight.

“Took you long enough,” you said, closing the distance. Your hands immediately reached for him, fingers curling around his arm as you pulled him close. “Were you watching me the whole time?”

Kinich nodded, his expression calm but the warmth in his eyes gave him away. “You’re hard to miss,” he replied, his voice low. “Especially when you’re singing all the way.”

You giggled, your hand slipping down to entwine with his. “Well, I had a feeling you’d be up there, hiding away like some elusive yumkasaurus. But you know I’ll always find you.”

Kinich tilted his head slightly, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. “I wasn’t hiding,” he said, though there was a subtle playfulness in his tone. “I was... observing.”

You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer until you were right in front of him, bodies almost touching. “Observing, huh?” you murmured, your voice dropping to a whisper. “And did you like what you saw?”

Kinich’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world around him seemed to fade away—the trees, the running river, the steep cliffs. All that mattered was the warmth of your hand in his and how you looked at him, so full of life and love.

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a slow and steady kiss, much like him. You responded immediately, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepened it, your fingers gently tangling in his hair.

When you finally pulled apart, you rested your forehead against his, your breath coming in soft, warm puffs against his skin. “You don’t always have to watch from afar, you know,” you whispered, your voice laced with affection. “You can come closer.”

Kinich smiled, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face. “I’m here now,” he said softly, his voice steady as always, but with a tenderness that only you ever got to see. “I’ll always come closer when it’s you.”

.

.

a/n: oh well. i didn't intend to write to him soon but i wanted to gift myself since my birthday is coming and i've been checking his tag for updates more times i should to. come on, my fella writers, where are you?

[angelicdanvers]

THE CLEARING | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader prompt: “i could admire you all day.” by @normal-internet-user

summary: a sweet moment in the clearing of pearls. takes place before tlt. wc: 1.2k

a/n: i'm back in my luke castellan phase and this time, unapologetically :') ik ik, he's the enemy. totally :D i haven't written in so long, i really hope you guys enjoy this! i eventually will make a collection of these on my wattpad (of the same username). have a great day/night! <3

camp half-blood was just as rhythmic as any other day. the campers were up and running, tending to chores or activities, chiron was introducing some new campers, mr. d had his legs hitched up on the table and was slumbering.

and yet — somehow — something still felt off to y/n. she couldn’t put her finger on it. for a child of ares, she was undeniably observant of her surroundings, ready to feed a punch, but she didn’t see nor feel anyone around. 

often times, she realized it was her subconscious warning her of her siblings’ antics. despite coming off as a cold hearted bitch, y/n was quite the opposite and everyone in camp knew. whether they experienced her dual sidedness face to face, they heard of it and believed it. it wasn’t common for all the ares children, even clarisse, to like one person, sibling, mutually. yet y/n was that sibling.

she didn’t mind it. the eighteen year old was one of the oldest and made it her duty to keep everyone in check, even if that meant going against her easy way out — anger. her siblings often appreciated that despite not showing it, but sometimes clarisse had a lot to say.

this definitely wasn’t one of those times, though.

clarisse had just come by and helped y/n braid two of their younger sisters’ hair, the two chatting normally and without any apparent trouble.

then what in the world kept nagging her?

she kept sensing an odd aura around camp. maybe it was the gods’ doing. maybe.

sighing, she sat on the cabin floor, watching as the last of her brothers walked out. she began tying her laces, fixing the tongue on her boots. her instincts picked up as she heard soft crunches from the side of the cabin. grabbing her sword, she walked out diligently, observing the area around her and positioning the sword towards the crunches. she carefully examined the reflection, absolutely no sight of anyone. stiff, she shrugged off her unease, heading down the paths and to her clearing.

the clearing had a waterfall cascading at the heart, a sparkling little pool in the centre. for nine in the morning, the earth was still dewy and the crisp scent of the woodlands surrounded her senses.

inhaling deeply, y/n stepped towards her favourite boulder and slid her shirt off. one by one, she stripped down until she was in her bikini, and fixed her locks to be appropriate for swimming. once ready, she slowly dipped her foot in, the coolness of the water pulsing through her body and sending a jolt within her. 

a mere moment later, y/n was wading in the water, beginning to take laps around the pool. she always had a surge of energy in water that always made her wonder if she was actually poseidon’s daughter — of course, she wasn’t, but maybe she had to thank him for her love of water. maybe. maybe it was just her and the gods really didn't impact her.

submerging underneath, the girl opened her eyes and scanned the bottom. on her lucky days, she’d find little pearls the nymphs would leave behind. she'd have to personally thank them one day. her growing collection was all towards making special beads for campers who’d been there for a significant amount of time, symbolizing their individuality. she was thinking of giving annabeth and luke one to add to their necklaces before all else.

squinting, y/n saw a shimmering area in the corner. charging towards it, she picked it up and examined it with her hands; the water was getting rather hazy. these pearls were heavier, and with more texture than she’d ever felt.

smiling to herself, she carefully held it within her palms, swimming further up and merging out of water. she felt the sun shining on her, and she braced for the sudden light adjustment.

and then the sun was gone.

her brows furrowed, and y/n cracked open an eye, glancing towards where she felt the sun mere moments ago. instead of trees and simple clouds, she saw a lean figure wearing an orange shirt and khaki cargos, arms folded across their chest. she knew those arms.

“gods, what are you doing here?” y/n questioned, slightly lowering herself into the water and staring at the male before her.

he stifled a chuckle, his signature smirk playing on his lips. “what? can’t a guy be with his girlfriend?”

“luke,” she warned, “didn’t we agree to not be around each other unless we actually had a plan to sneak off?”

the curly haired boy shrugged. “like that’ll stop me.”

“luke, c’mon. if anything, we can’t have anyone find out like this.”

he shook his head, “they won’t know a thing.” he nodded towards annabeth’s cap. 

y/n had to admit, his desperation to be with her in any way was the most adorable and hot thing she’d ever witnessed. “did you at least ask her for it?”

“yes ma’am.”

y/n smiled toothily, wading towards the edge and climbing out. luke watched her every move, enthralled by her beauty. he wasn’t sure how he even convinced her to go on that first date, considering she had a knee on his chest and a sword to his neck. too bad he’s the best swordsman and pinned her down next. 

how could she say no after that?

she found him quite intriguing as well.

luke followed his girl as she went over to the boulder, grabbing her towel and gently drying herself off. he headed up behind her, taking the towel from her arms and drying her back off for her. 

“that still hasn’t healed,” he noted, tracing the scar on her shoulder blade. y/n’s body melted at his touch, and the chills she felt were replaced with flames. 

“yeah,” she whispered as luke softly turned her around, wrapping the towel around her body. he brought her body closer to his, putting his index to her chin and tilting her head up.

“you know, i could admire you all day.”

“and why is that?”

he laughed, “with that sexy soul and sweet hobby of collecting pearls, how could i not?”

y/n felt her cheeks grow hot, a soft grin making its way to her face. “i could say the same, pretty boy.”

"who are you giving those pearls to?"

"if i said who, wouldn't the surprise be ruined?" she quirked, tilting her head to the side a little. "eh, word on the street keeps mentioning the best swordsman."

luke smirked, satisfied with her answer, his black hair gleaming in the sly sunlight. y/n cupped the left side of his face, tracing her fingers on the scar to his right. their eyes couldn’t leave one another’s, an enigmatic energy floating amongst them.

“i want to kiss you,” luke’s voice was lower than before, his grip tightening around her waist.

“do it,” y/n mustered up, fluster traversing through every bone in her body. 

without second thought, luke pressed the girl against his body, capturing her lips. y/n’s fingers trailed to his hair, tugging at the curls as their lips intwined passionately.

the teenagers yearned for each other, their love enveloping around them as they remained  in their locked position. luke’s lips were as light as a feather but had a hold on y/n that she was sure no other could.

breathless, the two pulled away for a moment before luke pulled her in again for a quick, feverish kiss. “i love you,” he rasped, staring deep into her riveting eyes.

“i love you, luke.”

their admiration could only grow from there. 

or so they thought.

[ozarkthedog]

𝐚 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧

summary: joel secretly watches you shower.

warnings: 18+ mdni. older!joel miller x afab!reader. dubcon -> reader has no idea. reader has a bush but no other physical descriptors. male masturbation. joel is a conflicted, dirty old man but we love him so. w.c: 1.3k

author's note: the title is way too sweet for this. thank you @ghotifishreads for looking this over!

Part 2 — heavenly bound

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Joel is a bad man. 

A very, very bad man. 

Still, he couldn't think of a reason to stop as he gripped the base of his cock and began to stroke while he watched you dance like a sprite under the flowing stream.

It was a miracle the two of you stumbled upon a YMCA this far from the city. Joel figured it'd be swarming with people or worse, but it was oddly barren aside from crawling vines and small critters living in the alcoves. 

It was even rarer that the water would still be working, but after you begged him with those big doe eyes, Joel checked it out. 

You wait anxiously on a pathway in the center of a large washroom, shifting back and forth on your feet between the shower stalls while Joel stands in one of the less scary cubicles. The room was a mess. Mud cakes the floor and walls; once pearly white tiles are now smeared with dirt. Various tiles and mirrors are splintered and broken. 

"'ere goes nothin'." Joel turns the knob, and the pipes behind the wall make a slew of thuds and loud creaking noises before a rush of water flows from the tap like a waterfall spilling over the edge of a cliff. 

"No, shit." Joel curses in shock and tests the water's temp. "S'ice cold." he hisses before stepping out of the tiny stall. 

You squeal elatedly. Uncaring about the cold, you move closer and cup your hands under the stream. You let out a soft moan at the frigid temperature. The unruly summer days were doing a number on you both.

Joel swallows hard at the sound and shifts his eyes to the floor before spying a few bars of soap a few feet away. He grabs two and tosses you one. "I don't know about you, but I'm taking a shower now," you announce, dropping your bag into the path between the stalls.

"Guess I should, too," Joel says, looking at the other, relatively clean stall across from yours. 

"You definitely should." You quip and playfully wrinkle your nose as you shuck off your shoes.

"Shut up." Joel bites back with a sly grin. He takes a few short steps and turns the shower knob. Sure enough, crystal clear water streams freely from the head.

"See ya when we're clean." you send him a smile before tugging your curtain closed. 

Joel shifts on his feet in the small space as he watches you pile your clothes on top of your bag from behind the curtain. He should keep guard and give you some privacy, but all coherent thought evaporates when he sees and hears you step under the stream.

Sunlight pours down into your stall from a window above, creating a tempting silhouette as you shimmy in the water and let loose an unrestrained moan. The sweet sound echoes off the washroom walls and slithers into Joel's brain. It races down his spinal column, and reaches home in his groin. His cock fills with blood instantly, forcing him to bite his cheek and mute his own moan.

"Ah, what the hell," he mumbles, setting his pack next to yours and closing the curtain to his stall. He's out of his clothes quicker than he remembers moving, chucking them carelessly on the other side of the curtain. His cock stands hard and raging, but he ignores it, choosing to step under the freezing stream with the hope it'll curb his arousal. 

"Fuck." Joel groans when the cold rains down on his sweltering body.  

"Told you." he hears you tease.

Joel shakes his head with a smile. It was by chance that your paths crossed. He wasn't looking for anyone to share in this new way of life, especially after Tommy left, but as luck would have it, you stumbled into his world at the right time, and now he's not quite sure he wants to live without you in it.  

He'd kept his distance over the last few months. He was too old to get caught up in sappy feelings and didn't need the distraction when life was on the line. However, that raw, gnawing need never went away. It took him a while to relax and feel secure enough to get off, but when he did, he was able to let go and succumb to the urges he remembered enjoying so much before the outbreak. 

He scrubs his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, across his broad, hairy chest, expelling dirt and grime from his skin as it swirls down the drain. His erection still hasn't faded; if anything, it's even harder now as your airy singing fills the room. 

He teethes his bottom lip as he succumbs to the urge once more and curls a soapy hand around his twitching length, circling the girthy base with a tight grip. Blood pulses in the crown— a desert sunset red, throbbing and weeping.

Joel knows it's wrong, but he's past the point of caring. With his left hand, he eases the curtain to catch another glimpse of your inviting silhouette but gets more than he imagined.

A breeze from the open window above your stall must have pushed the curtain open without you realizing. It was no bigger than a small gap, but it exposed enough of your body to Joel's prying eyes.

His jaw clenches tight as his deviant gaze travels along the wet, soapy expanse of your body. Water drips from your hairline, over your clavicle, between your breasts, and trickles down your soft belly. A mess of droplets and soapy suds cling to the patch of curls that covers your mound. Joel's cock throbs at the sight of your bush; he always loved the taste of a sweaty, hairy pussy.

You wash yourself, utterly unaware of his stare. The knot in Joel's abdomen twists, an unyielding cramp cinching ever tighter. He swirls his large, slick palm over his drooling tip, expertly moving with the right touch, trying his quickest to get off before the floor opens up and swallows him whole.

His sac tightens, drawing up as an intense wave burns through his gut. He watches with shameless infatuation as you run your soapy hands around your breasts and between your legs before rinsing away the filth. He roughly thrusts into his grip, imagining it's your cunt as it hugs and swirls around him while he greedily fucks into your warmth. He wants nothing more than to feel you under him, writhing from his illicit and soothing touch. 

His spine curves as he hunches over and leans one hand on the wall for support as he comes with a mess of deep, broken grunts. Fingers scratch the tile, body quivering with searing pleasure as thick white ropes splash against the dingy tile; he pictures you gasping for him while he fills you to the brim.

Shame creeps in, swarming hot and fast like the midday sun after a summer rainstorm. He yanks his hand from his cock like he's been burnt when you suddenly appear on the other side of the curtain.

"Are you almost done?" your voice cutting through the white noise of the shower stream. Joel peers around the side of the curtain, eyes piercing yet sorrowful. "Yeah, gimme a minute."

For now, Joel shakes off his shame. He cleans himself up and haphazardly splashes the wall with water, washing away any evidence of his perverted seclusion.

"Here," he hears you say as you hand him his clothes. He opens the curtain a bit and notices your eyes are cast downward. Joel instantly feels the sharp fangs of regret sink into his flesh; you must've heard him. 

"Thanks," Joel mutters. His fingers brush yours as he grabs his clothes, making your big eyes snap to his before they curiously travel down over his bouldering, sun-kissed shoulders. He watches your jaw drop with a silent gasp, and your knees slightly buckle at the dewy sight of him.

"Be right out," he smirks when you forget to let go of his clothes, forcing you to mumble a mortified apology before he closes the curtain.

Maybe he was wrong.

Maybe he's not as bad as he thinks, and just maybe he might have a chance with you.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[woso-story]

Crash And Care

Alexia Putellas x Reader

The sun hung low over Phuket, casting golden streaks across the sky as the salty breeze from the ocean wrapped around you like a warm embrace. The streets buzzed with energy—locals selling their goods, tourists marveling at the vibrant culture, the scent of sizzling street food filling the air.

You stood next to a row of brightly colored mopeds, hands on your hips, grinning as you turned toward Alexia. She, on the other hand, had her arms crossed, an eyebrow raised, her expression laced with doubt.

"One moped," she said firmly, her Spanish accent wrapping around the words in that way that always made your heart stutter. "I drive, you hold onto me. Easy, safe."

You let out a chuckle, shaking your head. "Alexia, come on. It'll be more fun if we each have one. We can race—"

"Absolutely not."

"Not an actual race!" you amended quickly. "Just… you know, side by side, cruising through the streets, feeling the wind, enjoying the freedom."

She sighed, looking between you and the row of mopeds. "I don’t know… Are you even a good driver?"

You scoffed, feigning offense. "Of course, I am! I’ve got great reflexes, a solid sense of balance, and a need for speed."

Alexia let out a groan, rubbing her temples. "That last part is exactly why I don’t trust you on one."

You reached out, tugging on her hand with a pleading look. "Please? Just trust me."

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head but smiling softly. "Fine. But if you crash, I will never let you forget it."

You grinned triumphantly. "Deal."

Little did you know, that deal would come back to haunt you sooner than you thought.

---

With your mopeds secured, the two of you took off through the bustling streets, weaving through traffic with ease. The warm air brushed against your skin, the world around you buzzing with life.

Every turn brought something new—colorful markets filled with handcrafted goods, vendors offering fresh tropical fruits, the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. You stopped frequently, indulging in juicy mangoes, sweet coconuts, and skewers of grilled meats that had your taste buds dancing.

At the beach, the sand was soft beneath your toes as you ran into the crystal-clear water, splashing at Alexia before she tackled you into the waves, both of you laughing as the sun kissed your skin.

Later, you found a secluded trail leading to a waterfall, the hike short but rewarding. The cascading water sparkled under the afternoon sun, the sound of nature wrapping around you as Alexia pulled you close, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

"You were right," she murmured, watching as you ran your fingers through the cool water. "Today is perfect."

You turned to her with a proud smirk. "Told you. And see? No accidents, no crashes. I’m an excellent driver."

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, you were right."

---

The journey back was smooth at first, the streets giving way to a more rugged, downhill path. The moped rumbled beneath you as you followed Alexia down the narrow trail, the setting sun casting long shadows across the road.

But then you felt it.

The road dipped unexpectedly, the moped picking up speed faster than you anticipated. Your heart hammered as you gripped the handlebars tighter, but the uneven ground made the ride unstable.

A bump. A sharp jolt. A sudden loss of control.

Time seemed to slow as the moped wobbled violently beneath you. Your instincts screamed at you to regain balance, but it was too late. The world tilted, and before you could react, you were thrown from the seat, crashing hard onto the rough terrain.

A sharp sting shot through your body as gravel scraped against your skin, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. For a moment, everything was a blur—distant voices, footsteps rushing toward you, the sensation of hands gently cradling your face.

Then, clarity.

Alexia was there, crouched beside you, her face pale with worry. "Amor, talk to me. What hurts?"

You groaned, trying to sit up, only for pain to flare through your left side. Looking down, you saw a long, angry scrape running down your leg, raw and stinging. Your arm throbbed, another large graze marking the skin.

"Shit…" you muttered, blinking away the haze.

Alexia’s hands hovered over you, hesitant to touch, as if afraid she’d make things worse. "Are you dizzy? Did you hit your head?"

You shook your head, wincing. "Helmet." You patted the scuffed but intact helmet still strapped to your head. "I’m okay… I think."

Locals had stopped to help, concerned voices mixing in Thai and English. With Alexia’s support, and a few strong hands, you were carefully lifted to your feet. Your whole body ached, your skin stung, but nothing felt broken.

Then, you saw it.

The moped, lying in a wrecked heap on the side of the road.

Guilt hit you instantly. "Lex, I'm so sorry. I wrecked it."

But she wasn’t even looking at the moped. She was looking at you, her jaw tight, eyes filled with something between fear and frustration.

"That’s not important," she said firmly. "You are."

The way she said it, the way her voice wavered slightly, made your chest tighten. She had been scared. Really scared.

You swallowed, feeling suddenly small. "I should’ve listened to you."

Alexia let out a breath, her hands gripping your shoulders. "Yes, you should have."

---

The next few hours were a blur—hospital, X-rays, bandages, and the relief of knowing nothing was broken. By the time you made it back to the Airbnb, exhaustion had settled deep in your bones.

The moment your head hit the pillow, you groaned. "This is not how I wanted our vacation to go."

Alexia, sitting on the edge of the bed, smirked. "It’s what happens when you don’t listen to me."

You cracked an eye open to glare at her, but she was already leaning down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But since you’re injured, I suppose I have to take care of you now."

And she did.

For the rest of the trip, Alexia was relentless. She insisted on bringing you food, making sure you were hydrated, helping you walk when your leg was sore, even tying your hair when your arm hurt too much to lift.

Every single time, she’d throw in a smug, "This is why I said one moped, mi amor. Because you are a terrible driver."

You groaned dramatically, rolling your eyes. "I get it, I get it. You were right."

She beamed, clearly satisfied. "I love hearing that."

Despite the accident, the days that followed were still filled with laughter, love, and soft moments. Because as much as you might have wrecked the moped, you knew one thing for sure—Alexia would never let you fall alone.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1980 home in San Diego, CA looks like an ordinary stucco house, or condo, but it's crazy inside. 4bds, 4ba, 3,894sqft, $2.8m.

Who doesn't love a meandering river, especially flowing thru the house? Welcome to the Waterfall House.

You can see that the house has a lot of different levels and platforms.

There are stairs going into the water. Maybe for maintenance, or can you actually swim around the house?

Here's a catwalk and steps below, along the rocks.

What an architectural achievement.

To get to the pool table, there are several options. You can wade there, climb over the rocks, or maybe come around the path.

Next to the dining area is a family room balcony.

Look at the balconies and lofts.

Up here, the dining area is on a balcony overlooking the water. The kitchen is tucked away, off the balcony.

Up the stairs and off to the right, there's a spacious primary bedroom.

It has a large ensuite and a walk-in closet.

The secondary bedroom is roomy, too.

The ensuite has a cute tiki theme that the new owner can expand on.

There's also a large guest room with a built-in table and a kitchenette.

It has a sitting area and an open step-down bath.

There's also a den with a balcony overlooking the main area.

Outside, there's a balcony with a pergola.

There's a patio on the side of the house.

It doesn't have a pool, but it has a hot tub.

Stairs to the driveway and garage.

Hillside 8,797sqft lot with a view of the city.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1876-Sefton-Pl-San-Diego-CA-92107/16964195_zpid/?

[dilf-docs]

series masterlist. +18 (minors dni). reposting and/or translating is not allowed.

Reckless choices. Emotional baggage for a lifetime inside suitcases for a week. A ticket to Iceland. Strangers connected by bad luck, heartache and... a little room mishap. Forced to share space and secrets during a one-week stay in the middle of nowhere.

Or,

Two New Yorkers who've never crossed paths in their bustling Manhattan lives find themselves caught in between the ice and that in their blue borrowed hearts.

Chapter Index:

I. Day One: Arrival

II. Day Two: Shared

III. Day Three: Nightlife

IV. Day Four: Waterfall

V. Day Five: Volcanoes

VI. Day Six: Whales and Parks

VII. Day Seven: Departure

©dilf-docs all right reserved. last updated: june 17th, 2025.

[neurobivergent]

Endo yamato meta because he’s fucked up and beautiful and I love him. (Don’t look at the pictures if you don’t want spoilers)

Endo's particular depiction of neurodivergence in wind breaker is so amusing to me, especially combined with his obsessive tendencies. It’s a fairly familiar combination of autism+maybe adhd+burnt out gifted kid… but like. He burns out so early in life and he’s still a child when the world starts looking dull and grey and he’s just about accepted this boring path for himself and then.

AND THEN. Enter takiishi with his fire coloured hair and bloody hands and his ass way on top of a flimsy metal structure and it’s just so instantly captivating and different that Endo basically had no choice but to get violently pulled into his orbit. Unsurprising, considering he’s been waiting to feel something, anything and this weird kid just checks all the boxes. Then he finds that he’ll always be held at arms length and that chika barely registers his presence so a singular word of response feels like a waterfall of validation.

The curiosity turns into an adoration turns into an obsession turns into a hyperfixation turns into a special interest and he’s willing to do just about anything at all to get a look, a reaction, a right hook to the face and he drinks it all up because the validation (twisted) is so rare and unpredictable that every time it comes his way it feels like a fresh dose of dopamine straight into his brain.

And then he meets another new shiny toy that piques his interest again and it scratches his brain jusssst right. And Endo is absolutely not normal about Sakura almost instantly because wdym this guy with the interesting hair and the interesting eyes and the rage of a thousand suns has directed his laser focused attention on me and- oh, oh. This feels familiar to him, it feels entirely new to him. He’s compelled immediately, obsessed immediately, needs to have more, know more immediately and he does not learn a single lesson. He’s very aware of but pays no heed to the possibility that he’ll be tossed around and dismissed again, admits he chases things he can’t have. But then again, what better way to set fireworks exploding inside your brain huh.

[neptunesbeloved]

My Lovely Lady...

•Refined version•

wc: 1 149

Synopsis: Your husband is having flashbacks about your previous night together...

tw: afab reader / nsfw / smut / erotic imagine / *insert any male character* x afab!reader / non-protected intercourse/ married couple / penetration / might be some other things I forgot to mention

Author's note: Hello guys. This is an refined version of this piece of work. As I was copying it properly on my notebook I realized how much I DESPISED it so I edited a few things. Sorry for not being able to come up with a new story, I just don't have any inspiration right now. I hate everything I am writing and I truly want to give y'all something that I am proud of. I feel like everything that I write is just trash so I just abandon what I am writing. If you have any suggestions I'll gladly take them. Please don't forget that I am a beginner and that my work is nowhere near perfect.

Anyways, take your time and enjoy

There she was, lying comfortably across the bed as a thin silk fabric draped over her naked body, tracing the dips and curves of her caramel skin. Her long braided hair resembled a flowing waterfall, starting from the crown of her head to the base of her nape before separating into two paths. One path led to the hollow of her supple breasts, while the other draped along the valley of sheets and pillows beneath her form. The lulling melody of her angelic breathing harmonized with the soothing hum of the fan. In this peaceful moment, he allowed the holy feeling of gratitude to fill his heart. He was thankful to be the one pleasing her, the one who brought her peace and bliss. But above all, he was the only one she blindly trusted with her precious unconditional love.

"My lovely lady..." he whispered to himself.

The atmosphere was peacefully calm after their previously shared night of intimacy. Thrusting and trusting, flooding and moaning, growing more in love with each second as their bodies became one. Their lips joined, sealing a promise of eternal love and devotion to one another. Her delicate wandering hands soothingly traced abstract shapes along the epidermis of his back. He gently pulled back from the kiss and withdrew his intimacy from her warmth before tenderly looking into her eyes, his gaze as romantic and sincere as hers. His palm traveled from the slope of her arm to the mound of her cheek. She instinctively leaned into his caress, slowly batting her long lashes at her lover. Their heartbeats synchronized as their breathing harmonized while the intimate silence spoke volumes about the purity of their love.

"Loving you is such a pure delight. I sincerely adore you..." he declared, his eyes filling with salty, emotional tears. Her dainty fingers gracefully slid under his eyes, gently wiping his tears away.

"I feel so precious when I see myself in your reflection. You have the power to find beauty in the smallest things." She marked a brief but significant pause to let her words sink into him.

"You are greater than you realize... You truly exude beauty from the inside out. From your unique personality and emotional complexity to your physical appearance and those mesmerizing parts you deem to be imperfect. I sure am fond of it all..." His voice softened until it reached a loving silence, giving her the time and space to reflect.

She guided one of her curious hands to the back of his neck and lowered his head before kissing him. Their lips danced together as she gently placed the back of her knee on his hip. While caressing her latching leg from the hip to the back of its knee, her tongue delved into his mouth, seeking his. Their muscles locked and then sensually rolled against one another. They weren’t seeking dominance, but rather a balance in their sultry kiss.

After gently detaching from their union, he aligned himself with her glistening entrance, pleasing the both them by sliding his swollen tip from her sensitive bundle of nerves to her welcoming op. His teasing foreshadowed what he planned to do with her that night. He was going to please her—driving her to the throne of carnal heaven, watching her squirm and moan his name under his tender gaze. She was his goddess, and he would make sure she knew it by worshipping and honoring her under the moonlight.

After his light teasing, he positioned himself at her opening, looking into her eyes in search of her consent. She looked back at him and gently nodded. No explicit words were needed; it was as if they communicated telepathically. With their fingers interlocked, he placed a tender kiss on her wedding ring.

"I love you... and I always will. Please, never forget it..." His voice sultry, making her heart flutter.

At the feeling of him entering her, she rolled her eyes in delight as a moan escaped her lips. He began thrusting slowly, making her feel every inch of him before withdrawing at the same pace. He loved it—feeling her coil and tighten around him, hearing her little gasps and moans of pleasure. He took pride in pleasing her. After a few minutes, he finally allowed himself to release his whimpers of passion, knowing his beloved wife's love for them. He poured all his love and devotion into each movement. Proving his love was his duty, for she was the goddess and he the priest. She was the nurturing water, and he was the seed in the soil.

She was perfect in his eyes—from her coily hair and its impressive versatility to the beautiful stretch marks on her hips and thighs. He adored it all.

His free hand traveled down to her rosy bundle of nerves, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her soft skin. As he moved inside her, the pad of his thumb found her clitoris. With the help of her arousal, he eased his circular motions against the tip of her sweetest spot. In that moment, he felt her insides tighten around him, sending them both over the edge of their divine release. Her body responded on its own—squeezing, twisting, and pulsating around his length.

She surrendered to her body’s erotic pulsions, grinding against him as her voice became an angelic melody of pleasure, blessing everything and everyone fortunate enough to hear it. She finally ascended into heaven, overwhelmed by the pleasurable sensations that consumed her precious body. Passion tingled across her voluptuous frame—from its core to its extremities.

Her husband joined her in her lovely ecstasy, filling her depths with his warm, flowing nectar of life. Breathless, he leaned down to kiss her smooth jawline and delicate neck.

"Words aren't enough to express how deep my love for you is... I can’t help it... I love every single part of your being..." he murmured between kisses and tender licks.

She gazed up at him and softly chuckled. "Don’t be silly," she murmured playfully, running her fingers through his silky hair.

[nthspecialll]

Smaller details

Red Dead Redemption two has a bunch of small details which would not be able to make a post of their own, so instead here are a bunch of my own favourite small spots and details within the game.

Abandoned Field Hospital

Between the V and E of "New Hanover" you can find an abandoned field hospital from the Civil War. It isn't a point of interest however you can pick a few bits and pieces as well as find four bodies, one of which is half missing... I hope for that person's sake it was done after death.

Saddened Actor

If you make your way down from the path by Whinyard Strait and jump down on a small ledge underneath before walking behind the waterfall, you will be able to find a hat hiding a suicide letter underneath. This letter is written by a famous actor within the universe named Robert Elliot Patchen who has preformed in big cities like New York or Chicago. However while he should have been feeling the like the happiest person alive, he felt nothing but sorrow, a sorrow so big that he ended up taking his own life.

Graveyard

The grave of General Quincy T Harris can be found in Saint Denis, a controversial hero in the civil war. Dutch's mother's grave can also be found in Blackwater, which wasn't something I had planned on posting but randomly remembered while writing this. Her name is Greta.

Frozen Horse

By Deadboot Creek you can find the frozen remains of a horse and it's rider, there is once again nothing of interest other than some old rum if I remember correctly.

[marlynnofmany]

Similar Skill Sets

“Aw, man,” I muttered, staring at the board game. “Was it this one or that one? I was trying to get over here, but you moved that row. I think it’s this one?” My finger hovered over the switch on one nearly-identical tile among many.

Captain Sunlight gave away nothing, her scaly yellow face serene. “Make your move.”

“It already smells like a flower shop threw up in here.” I struggled with the switch, my human fingernail barely up to the task usually meant for Heatseeker claws. When it finally clicked, the tile spurted a weak jet of scent. This one smelled more leafy than flowery, but I still had no flaming idea if it was the one I was trying to find. I sniffed the scent compartment of the token I’d drawn, hoping they matched. Leafy? Vines, maybe?

“I’m sorry it’s such an old model,” said Captain Sunlight, taking pity on me and drawing her next token. “The scents are fainter than they should be. Maybe we can get replacement cartridges at the next station.”

I sighed as I watched her make three moves in a row, matching up scented tiles and rearranging the maze of the board until I’d lost all idea of where my target was. “Somehow I don’t think that would help.”

She sat back, idly spinning the last token she needed to find. “I wonder if there’s a model with scents from your planet. This is a pretty popular game; it only makes sense that they would branch out.”

“Maybe.” I stared at the maze, plotting pathways and trying to find a target that I could reach in a single turn. My odds weren’t great that it would be the right one, but that was better than nothing. “I’d probably be able to tell them apart better if they were things like cinnamon and citrus, but if the game makers just went for all flowers there too, I’d still be guessing. It’s not my area of expertise.” I shifted a row and moved my piece, then spent a moment trying once again to identify a scent.

“That’s the one you tried last time,” Captain Sunlight told me, dashing all hopes. Her next move was swift and decisive, countering the detour I’d just thrown in her path. She set her final token on the stack of others and waggled her fingers in silent triumph.

I slumped against the backrest. “This is definitely not my game.”

The captain began disassembling the board. “How about you pick the next one?”

“My pleasure,” I said in relief, immediately moving toward the entertainment cabinet. This lounge was well stocked after our last stop. “Want to do a puzzle?”

“What kind? Cube, sphere, string?”

“Uh, the regular flat kind,” I said, holding up the box. It showed a lovely nature scene (waterfall), a piece count (100), and a planet of origin (Earth).

“That sounds refreshingly different,” said Captain Sunlight. She carefully fitted the scent tiles into their insulated compartment. “Competitive or cooperative?”

“Cooperative,” I said, bringing it over to the table while she finished putting away the other game. “Though I suppose there’s room for trash talk about who’s working faster.”

“How very considerate. Have you played this with Trrili or Zhee yet?”

“Not yet,” I said with a smile, easily able to imagine the amount of agitated hissing and pincher clicks that would come from a competitive game between those two. “This one’s new. I was thinking Blip and Blop might like it.” The Frillian twins were also competitive, though they worked well together. I had no idea if they were any good at puzzles.

Time to see if the captain was. She set aside the other box and I opened this one, spilling the hundred puzzle pieces onto the table and getting to work flipping them over.

Captain Sunlight followed my lead. “So is the goal to assemble them in a certain pattern?”

“Yeah, they make up this picture.” I pointed at the box. “It’s easiest once they’re all color-side up.”

“I see,” she said, as focused as if she was studying a new trade language. “How long do you expect this round to take?”

“This one should be pretty quick,” I told her. “It’s just a hundred pieces, and a lot of different colors. If this was a picture of a green field with a blue sky and not much else, that would be a lot more annoying.”

“Seems like that would be less to keep track of.”

“Sure, but fewer clues about where things go.” I held up a fragment of vivid purple. “This one, for example, can only go in the corner. No mystery there.” I pointed out the matching flower on the box.

Captain Sunlight nodded, still looking serious. “Right. Deduction. So do we take turns?”

“Nah, that would take too long. It’s more fun just to go for it. Unless you want to make it harder?”

“No no, the regular way is fine.” She hurried to flip over the last few, then looked at me and waited.

“Righto. The best way to start is by finding the corners first, then the edges. It narrows things down. Do you see any corners? Here’s one.”

We began. It really was an easy puzzle, but I could see the captain was struggling. This was a surprise, to say the least. Sunlight was smart. Always thinking ahead, clever and levelheaded and full of insights, but she seemed to have trouble guessing which direction a piece should go, even when it was perfectly obvious to me.

“Oh hey,” I said. “I was looking for that one. It goes right here.”

“This way?”

“Turn it so the sticking-out bit goes … yeah, like that.”

“And is this one also part of this red patch?”

“No, that one has smaller red petals; it belongs in the other spot. I JUST saw the piece that fits it, too; that was overrrrr… Here it is!” I plucked it out of the mess and Captain Sunlight handed me the other piece, letting me put them where they belonged.

I suggested, “See if you can find all the speckled blue ones, and we can fill in this area.”

She gamely searched for blue among the chaos of colors, visibly scanning pieces one at a time with concentration on her lizardy face. I hesitated over whether to pretend I couldn’t see all five of the pieces we needed, or to speed things up. I settled on grabbing material for the grassy area nearby, only picking out the last blue one when she’d found the rest.

This turned into a pattern of me asking for pieces in a certain color, which she gathered slowly and I assembled. The puzzle took about three times as long to finish as I’d thought.

“Success!” the captain said as she clicked the last piece into place. (I’d left it for her to do the honors.) “That was surprisingly challenging. I must say, I’m glad it wasn’t competitive.”

“Ah, you wouldn’t have lost as badly as I did in that last game,” I said, lying through my human teeth.

“That’s kind of you to say,” she told me. “I do wonder how some of the rest of the crew would take to this, though. Mur is always looking for a difficult game he can excel at.”

“Because you usually beat him?” I guessed with a grin, quieting when I picked up the sound of tentacles approaching down the hallway.

A blue-black squid head appeared around the corner. “I hear it’s game time in here!” Mur declared. “And we have new puzzles after the last stop.”

“Do you mean this puzzle?” I asked, gesturing at the completed waterfall. “Lemme just take it back apart—”

Mur ignored me, tentacle-walking over to fling open the cabinet and reach in. “These puzzles!” he exclaimed, pulling out several Strongarm puzzle cubes. “We’ve got a range of difficulty levels here. These two are unsuited to fingers, but I imagine you poor souls with no tentacles could manage one of these!”

He lined them up along the edge of the table with all the flair of a children’s magician, or maybe an older sibling who was looking forward to seeing the younger kids suffer. Since I’d been subjected to the Strongarm version of a “simple kid’s challenge” before and nearly dislocated something, that seemed appropriate.

I sighed and exchanged looks with Captain Sunlight. She didn’t seem particularly excited either.

Then more tentacles slapped down the hall, and Wio joined us. “Hey! Kavlae says it’s puzzle time! I told Mimi to take a break from the tool-sorting he’s been doing, and we can see who’s puzzle master today.”

The look I exchanged with Captain Sunlight now was different. “Let me just clear the table for you,” I said, picking up the puzzle box.

“Yes, by all means,” said the captain. “You can have my chair.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[am-i-interrupting]

Worth Keeping | Haymitch x Everdeen!Reader

Chapter 1 | Lost Bet

Summary: For the first five years of mentoring, Haymitch was not numb but indifferent to these new tributes, on their way towards death. This year, he's forced to change that approach when his childhood friend's little sibling is called at the reaping.

Your reaping best was a dress, knee length with sleeves that bellowed out. They were made from the slightly scratchy material of the produce bags from the capitol but that is precisely what gave the sleeves their shape. The thick material was easily manipulated and held its form rather well. The rest of the dress was made out of patches of left over fabric. A waterfall of colors. Your shoes were just regular boots, worn with time and age.

That didn’t matter. You always felt like a grand princess when you wore the dress.

It was your masterpiece. A thing you’d made over the course of a year. Carefully hiding fabric swatches when you thought they’d match the others you’d collected. You stitched it all together by your own hand and no one else’s.

You were proud of it and if the capitol didn’t like it for their shiny televisions, they could kiss your ass. ‘Cause you sure as hell weren’t gonna change it.

Burdock came up behind you. He ran his fingers through your hair. He hooked one around a small section. It was divided into three parts and he started braiding.

“Last year,” he said.

You wanted to nod but didn’t want to mess up his work. “Last year.”

There was a tense silence between the two of you. Your foot shifted from side to side beneath you. He wouldn’t look you in the face just like every other year.

“You’ll be fine,” he said as he tied off the braid.

You grabbed his hand and force a smile up at him, determined to not show your nerves. “I will be. I am.”

“You are.”

He sighed through his nostrils.

Every single reaping was different now. It didn’t used to be like this. Not years ago. It just so happened that the day of your first reaping two of your childhood friends were ripped away and neither of them came back.

“Come on, it’s getting depressing in here,” you said as you walked past your brother and out of the house door.

You breathed in the air. It was thick and heavy. There was a certain stickiness to it.

“It’s a miracle they don’t pack up their equipment,” you said, raising your voice loud enough so Burdock could hear from inside. “Rain’s in the air. Might ruin all their shiny shit.”

“They have the money to replace it,” he said as he closed the house door.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

The district was normally quiet before the reaping and booming after. There was no day people drank more and worked less.

“Where’s ma and pa?” you asked.

“They never came home last night,” he answered. “Apparently there’s some coyot pack that’s been around. They wanted to find it. Then they can sleep when they get back and have no consequences.”

“Other than pa complaining tomorrow about sore his feet’ll be.”

He snorted at that and pushed you along.

You almost wanted to take off your shoes and walk down the dirt path. There was something so satisfying about that feeling of the earth between your toes. You could do it later though and you’d done it enough to know how it felt by your heart.

The boots were just so confining. No matter how worn they were, they structured in a way. Maybe your foot could fit instead the shoe but it couldn’t sit the way it was supposed to when gravity caused it to spread.

If you got anything bigger though it would weigh down your foot and rub against your skin. No matter what kind of socks you put on, it would still manage to rub your skin raw.

You gave your name, waiting for the line up.

They always put the little ones in front. Those wide, innocent eyes filled with their first experience of fear and shock. No idea how it felt to be in that position until they were in it and not able to hide the way they felt now that they were.

The perfect expressive faces for television.

That’s all anyone in the districts was to the capitol. It’s the only time they ever seemed to care about making things at least look livable but not too livable. It all had to be clean but just dirty enough.

You gave Burdock a hug right before your name was called.

You saw your parents coming in the distance. Both with tiredness etched in their every being. Tam Amber and Clerk Carmine right by their sides. You gave them all a way.

You got your hand pricked by a capitol member for what would be the last time. Your blood was smeared across the white page along with all the others of age for what would be the last time. You walked to that little closed off place for the last time.

You were almost out you weren’t stupid. You weren’t out yet.

Being one of the oldest people meant your name was in there a lot more than some others. Just, hopefully it wouldn’t be you.

Hopefully.

The whole ordeal started.

Haymitch sat down on stage. He never really did stand. He’d tried his first year and he been too drunk to stand straight. He kept leaning from side to side. Now, like every year, he clutched a bottle in his hand and had a far off look in his eyes. His feet dangled off the edge of the platform. His back covered the bottom half of the microphone stand from view as he leaned on one hand and tilted his bottle with the other.

Reaping day was hard for everybody, especially since Haymitch’s games.

Not only was it the day that two kids were going to be sent off to their death. It was also now the day that a boy had died, killed in front of all of them for trying to escape the death sentence only to reach it early.

There had been a change since that day six years ago. It was no longer Drusilla Sickle who pulled the names. That change happened almost instantly.

Now she was replaced with a much younger woman. In her twenties. She always had brightly colored and drastic makeup. A shocking outfit. You’d heard her name was. . . It had an F in there, somewhere.

She, in contrast to Haymitch, had perfect posture even in her heels. Her movements were fluid and delicate. Always thoughtfully planned.

She had a high pitched but clear voice. Perfect pronunciation. A wonderful announcer’s voice with the cheeriness but somberness to fit the capitol and the district’s emotions. All performative, surely but that perfect balance nonetheless.

As with every other year the speech played. One that made many glare or roll their eyes.

No one wanted such a drawn out and lengthy process. At least not in the districts. Like a bandage, everyone wanted it quickly dealt with.

“Now, it is time for us to discover which courageous young man and woman will be select to represent District 12 in the fifty-sixth annual Hunger Games,” and though her voice was sweet it did almost make one yearn for the harsh vinegar of Drusilla again. At least she was direct with her ever present disdain.

“Ladies first,” she said before she placed her hand in the bowl. Her hand swirled above then went below the piles of paper. She shuffled them and then drew out a single piece. Your heart froze when your name was called.

A sinking feeling you’d felt once before came to you.

Your hand went to your bracelet on your wrist. Years old and once a necklace you’d outgrown. It was wrapped and twisted around your wrist. Colorful pieces of thread stolen from Lenore Dove’s bedroom at the age of eleven. A rock from the river you’d sneak to tangled in it. It was made by you and your childhood best friend’s collective efforts just weeks before your twelfth birthday when you would be eligible for slaughter.

You turned your head, half expecting to see her, and you did. A brief glimpse of twin braids that framed a heart shaped face and a scar on the forehead above grey eyes that looked at you with the exact same horror of which you felt now.

She was gone.

You clutched the smooth stone and walked past the girls in line. They parted with no hesitation.

You looked back and saw a brief glimpse of your parents, Burdock, Tam Amber, and Clerk Carmine all huddled together and all with the same.

Peace keepers forced you forward.

You met Haymitch Abernathy’s gaze. His bottle was down on the stage. His feet were planted on the ground. He was oddly steady.

You were marched forward. Every time your feet hit the ground it was like you were being shook to your very core.

You really wished you were barefoot just to feel this dirt one last time.

As you grew closer and closer, you could see him clearer. Tears began to well in your eyes but you forced your head to stay up tall as you blinked the down. Your breath hitched in your lungs, caught on your ribcage.

Everything was just coming back to six years ago again, it seemed, as you saw that numbness which covered up fear and hurt in Haymitch’s eyes.

He spoke not a word. You didn’t expect him to.

You walked up the steps and grabbed the woman’s offered hand. It was soft. She placed her arm around your shoulder and her back other hand on your upper arm. She rubbed her thumb up and down. You were guided to your place and her touch was gone.

“And now for the boys.” A moment of silence. “Milo Declan.”

Milo was a younger boy, only twelve years old. He had strawberry blond hair and brown eyes. His face was still round with baby fat of which he’d yet to grow out of and likely never would now.

You heard the drag of a bottle against wood. Haymitch tilted it back once more. He walked away from the and out of the camera’s view.

“May the odds be ever in your favor,” the woman said as she backed away.

Milo wiped his hands on his pants before he stuck one out to you. You grabbed it, shook it.

Then were suddenly in a room. Your mother and father visited you. Hugged you. Said words you couldn’t process. Were pulled out by peacekeepers.

Burdock came in after. He hugged you. Whispered words of love and pushed your hair out of your face as he looked at you close one last time.

It was when Tam Amber and Clerk Carmine came in that reality finally sunk in.

You collapsed in Tam Amber’s arms, crying into them. Smoke cling to his clothes even though he’d been nowhere near a fire. Clerk Carmine hugged you from behind.

“You better,” you began through hitched breath, “be singing loud enough that I can hear it when I step in that arena. I don’t want to die in silence.”

Both of the men held you tighter.

“You won’t, buttercup. You won’t,” was either could say.