#i am trying to buy the house so im saving up

[noctomania]

Legend of Zelda: Hunter Gatherer

[hopelessdazai]

✿ 》 Will you talk to me again?

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; I don't expect this to do well because its not smut but it'd be nice !! reblogs appreciated, support your creators :)

╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; dazai x gn!reader, WC ; 784

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; angst, reader isn't alive, letter from dazai. he's trying very hard to keep himself stable but it's not working™.

To my dearest ______ .

It's been a while, hasn't it? I hope you don't mind me writing to you like this, it's simply been too long. I'm sure you're still angry at me, so seeing you physically isn't my best interest right now! haha, I'm sorry. you know I'm just joking around, don't you? I'd love to see you in person. I'm sure you would've punched my arm if you heard me out loud right now, wouldn't you? I'm glad I'm spared of the bruises.

what does someone put in a letter? that's what I was asking myself before I even began writing. I decided that the best way to do something like this was to just write whatever I feel true as pen touches paper. I hope it makes sense to you, at the least. if I'm pouring my heart out on some paper only for it to be misunderstood, it feels like a waste, no?

though, i'd be lying if i said it wouldn't be rather cute to see you try to fathom what I mean. did you know you scrunch your nose like a bunny sometimes when you're reading? I'm sure you're doing that now too. you'll get wrinkles very at this rate ..

but anyway, I managed to prank kunikida the other day! you remember that hair dye trick I'd told you about? I managed to break into his apartment and swap out his shampoo, at last! he came into work the next day with black hair, it was hilarious, you should've been here! he was so angry with me. beat me black and blue!

oh, _____. I got a new heated blanket for our bed, you know? it took a while to save up for it, and I had to cut out some other necessities, sure. but it makes everything so much better! I hate cold beds, I'm sure you know that better then anyone. haha, back before we moved in together when I'd break into your apartment and crawl into bed with you. I'm sorry for the amount of locks I broke, but your place was so cozy!

... you know, it's been really hard without you here. I miss you so painfully, and I don't mean to call into the void without even an echo, but its killing me to pretend I'm fine about any of this. I'm not fine with this, how am I supposed to be? I wish it was just a bad dream.

I don't want to have to write letters to you anymore, ______. I don't want to have to buy heated blankets to try and stop my arms from aching for your warmth. I don't want you to be angry with me, I'm sorry I didn't apologise to you before you were gone. I shouldn't have been so stupid.

i had so many words on my mind that I was too afraid to say. maybe if I faced myself and told you 'I love you' it would've stopped you leaving.

have you met odasaku yet? has he told you any stories of his time? I wish I could hear your voice again. I wish you could answer my questions. even to hear you scoff at my stupidity again would heal me. I'm sorry I was annoying, I just wanted your attention. it stings knowing I'll never get it again.

I can't keep repeating to myself that you're not gone. I can't keep buying your perfume and pretending that you're in the next room over. your pillow doesn't smell like you anymore.

I wish I could apologise properly. I wish I could've stopped you from leaving the house that night. I wish I could kill myself to join you and yet I know we won't cross paths again in the afterlife. you were always too good for me, ______. i was nothing compared to you.

i picked up a homeless dog yesterday. you'd always wanted a puppy, I'm sorry I never let you bring one home. I named it after you. im trying to get used to them, I promise. if I couldn't save you, I'll save your name.

I'm sorry. if I continue writing, my throat will hurt more. its strange, isn't it? crying makes your throat sore. I forgot what it was like for a while, I remember laying in your arms wondering if I'd ever have a reason to cry again. now I can't seem to help myself.

keep your wings clean for me, white looks good on you. its a shame you couldn't wear the wedding attire i wished to see you in one day. you would've looked amazing.

I'll write again, missing you is the greatest honor.

sincerely, your osamu.

[sugar-omi]

hiiiiii guess whose ass is getting kicked by uni 🥲

I’m not dead yet BUT I’m procrastinating by watching tiktoks and I saw one where a girl was buying furniture and choosing based on how easily/comfortably she could bend over it and I just 💀💀💀

imagine doing that w cove while furniture shopping for ur first apartment/house lmaoooo he would fucking die telling u not to act up in public 😭

save me

-🗑️

hiiii ! omg so real... im actually starting my apps for college soon n i am NOT ready to go back, i am so relaxed!!! 😭 im going part time but still... anyway good luck with your uni stuff!!! <3 you got this 💪 have a lil drabble to recharge, bc pls this is such a thought... IT'S SO FUNNY N I CAN SEE COVE BEING SO EMBARRASSED IN THE STORE, BUT ALSO I'D SO TEASE HIM AFTERWARDS...

nsfw, gn reader, couch sex

but wow. imagine it actually...

cove is so embarrassed when you're in the store, he's blushing and covering his face and he's running away when you "try out" the couch. he's so embarrassed and while you're having a good time he is dying

is so happy when you finally agree on a couch. it's a great couch, but also FINALLY! you can stop testing the couches

but of course, it all comes back around.. and eventually, you and cove end up doing it on the couch

he bends you over the sofa, fucking into you deep and fast, hunched over you, sweaty and touchy, constantly turning your head towards him for a kiss

his hands are forcing your hips down, his fingers digging into the fat of hips, your legs squished under his weight

you can't see it, but cove is greatly enjoying how your body is squishing under his hands, how you're burying your face in the cushion, the ripple of your ass from his thrusts... he's in heaven

when you finally finish, he collapses over your back, his head on your shoulder as he pants, trying to catch his breath...

"that was..." you pant.

"good?" cove finishes your sentence, his body still buzzing from that high.

"yeah, really fuckin' good, but.." you smirk, already anticipating cove's reaction. "the couch is definitely comfortable. we should do this again."

cove yelps, his arms tightening around your waist and he hides his face in your neck. "y/n!" he groans, his body shaking with your laughter

[jaemified]

last christmas | part 2

“this year, to save me from tears ; ill give it to someone special.”

❆ pairing ; strangers to ?? park gunwook x fem reader

❆ genre ; fluff, slight drama +(ft taesan/jaehyun of bnd and yunjin of lsrfm ^^)

❆ warnings ; swearing, and kinda toxic relationships

❆ wordcount ; 2.4k

❆ synopsis ; beginning your second year of college and you feel youve hit rock bottom. on your own after your ex kicked you out, and taking on a seasonal job at a christmas shop to pay off student loans? everythings gone to shit. but then, you see him for the first time. and you realize there really was a little light in the darkness — your someone special.

♡ kona speaks ! - vaguely follows the plot of the film last christmas (2 part story)

read below the cut !

you cant say you were all to proud of yourself now.

sure, you were a pretty incredible student by high school graduation, with a 3.9 gpa and all (not to mention making it to seoul national university with your beloved boyfriend).

but, that was a year ago.

who wouldve thought it was possible for your life to go so far downhill, in just a span of roughly over 12 months?

your parents had found a better job opportunity in london, but your mom wanted you and your brother to be nearby.

meaning doing so without running it by you of course, which led to her enrolling you into imperial college as a foreign transfer student.

your boyfriend was pretty upset, but nevertheless, followed you despite your best efforts telling him not to (which meant him forfeiting his scholarship at snu).

once your family first heard he would follow suit to london, they gave you an ultimatum. and stupidly, you chose love over family.

they never approved of him anyway.

it was fine for the meanwhile.

at least until you broke up, and he decided to place the blame on you.

it was your flat you bought with your own money anyway. what did he ever do for you? how dare he kick you out of your own home!

-

you watched while gyuvin pulled your luggage out the closet, pushing it towards you.

“what the hell are you doing!” you exclaimed as he began to pull your clothes off hangers and throw them towards your direction.

“helping you leave.” he muttered.

“what did i even do? you just wake up one day and decide its my fault you followed me to another continent despite me saying you shouldnt? i told you not to leave your dreams behind, and you chose to ignore me!”

“well maybe you didnt try hard enough! i just know that i dont feel the same about you now as i did then.”

“so thats it?” you scoffed. “you realize this is my apartment? i pay the rent. you just practically live here for free. you cant just kick me out of my own home!”

he only ignored you and shoved piles upon piles of clothing into 2 separate suitcases, before gently escorting you to the door.

“gyuvin. gyuv! kim gyuvin! you cant just leave me here!” you begged.

“im sorry y/n. but its over. maybe if you hadnt taken all that mattered to me we couldve worked out.” gyuvin spoke before slowly closing the door, leaving you out in the cold wearing only pajamas.

“what the fuck am i supposed to do now..” you whispered to yourself, thinking of the only possible places to go.

sure your number of options was minimal, but you began with the only person you thought you could count on anyway.

“what the hell are you doing here?” taesan expressed in shock while he stared at you standing at his front door.

“need somewhere to crash.. surprise?” you shrugged jokingly, trying to lighten the mood as you and your brother werent on the brightest terms.

“goodbye y/n.” he sighed as he turned to lock you out.

“han taesan you let me in this instant! you cant just leave me to die in the middle winter!” you exclaimed, stepping through the door frame so it couldnt close.

“wheres gyuvin?” he scoffed. “i mean, youre the one who left me with mom and dad to buy a house for him anyway.”

“we broke up. blamed me and said i was the reason he lost everything in seoul or whatever. and he still kicked me out of MY home.”

taesan let out a heavy breath, looking around before pushing the door out more for you to walk through.

“..you mean it?” you pondered hesitantly.

“i suppose. i know we warned you about him and all, but youre still my baby sister.” he half heartedly grinned, pointing his head in the direction of his hallway as a gesture for you to come in.

you knew he was still mad at you despite not showing it, but knowing your brother, hes still someone who you could rely on in any situation.

“yeah. and uh- just a heads up, i still live with jaehyun and leehan, plus we dont have an extra room so.. we’ll just figure it out later.”

“thank you.”

-

a week later and you were doing better than before. though it wasnt easy to forget the incident, you still managed with the new living situation and all.

you woke up bright and early the following morning for work, ready to sell christmas ornaments for the rest of your life under your boss, huh yunjin, as you were now on break from school.

considering jaehyuns bed wasnt all too comfortable, you still slept pretty well. youre grateful he took the couch for you during that first week. ‘maybe ill get him something as a thank you.’

“what are you doing up so early?” taesan asked, holding off on the toast he was about to eat as he watched you rush downstairs.

“got work. not like dads willing to pay student loans anymore right?”

“the christmas shop, still?” jaehyun asked from his seat on the couch.”

“cant have a full time job as a full time student. it just worked out while im on christmas break.”

your brother nudged you in your stomach, motioning for you to thank his friend for his deed.

“-oh and thanks for taking the couch. i owe you. if you want food or anything ill cover the cost and pick it up in return.” you continued.

“its fine. i get it, the last few days were rough. dont worry about it.” he smiled.

-

after a quick 10ish (or so) minute walk to the street side store you worked at, you realized you were about 5 minutes past the time you were meant to clock in for your shift.

walking into the store, it was no surprise it was already crowded by 8:36am seeing as christmas was 2 weeks away now.

“y/n! y/n get over here! where is your uniform?” yunjin questioned as more of a whisper yell.

before you got the chance to reply, she quickly cut you off and said, “nevermind that. just please hurry to change and come help me with all these people!”

you wave off her dismissive behavior, and speed walk to the bathroom, making sure to pass the lockers to grab your uniform on the way.

“i forgot how itchy this was..” you grumble as you slip on the ugly elf costume yet again before leaving to the front desk.

“welcome in! please let us know if theres anything you need help with!” yunjin smiled as another person walks through the door, putting on her customer service voice.

“guess you dont need me anymore?” you asked jokingly, noticing there was no one within a 10 foot distance of the check out line.

“why must you take so long to change? i only had enough time to help half those people. the other half left after mr smith came in to return all the ornaments he broke again. he really knows how to hold up a line.” she sighed, moving in the direction of a huge box of broken material.

“you cant keep letting them return damaged product. we are losing enough money as is, santa.” you gestured to her new character change yet again as you realize where a good chunk of the budget went. “what was wrong with the reindeer costume?”

“it didnt make it clear that im the owner. the shop is called santas workshop dont you know? cant call it santas workshop if theres no santa.”

you laughed brightly at yunjin while she picked up the box to bring it to the back, just as another person walked in.

“welcome in!-” you call out, before cutting yourself off as you caught a glimpse of his face.

he was pretty gorgeous, you couldnt lie. from what you noticed, he had shortish black hair and big eyes to compliment his soft lips (not to mention his build was pretty insane too. he definitely works out).

the very same guy who caught your attention came to you shortly after, seeking some assistance on picking a gift, so you were happy to comply.

“im not sure what she’d like. its hard shopping for a 14 year old.” he said.

“what’s your relation to her? just like so i know how close you are so its easier to help.”

“my younger cousin. we arent that close, but its our first family gathering in a while and my mom wants me to get something for everyone. but shes always been.. far from an open book. so im lost”

you thought long and hard about what your cousins around that age like, before coming to a final decision.

you attempt to reach for the legos, but you almost fall over as it was just barely out of reach, sitting on one of the higher shelves.

carefully, he steadies you by holding your arm and reaches to grab the item you were aiming at.

“this?” the guy questions as he hands you the orchid lego set.

“yeah! im not sure if it suites her or anything but you cant go wrong with legos. the price isnt too bad and its suitable for anyone at any age for the most part.” you shrugged.

“that actually.. makes perfect sense. youre really good at your job, no? thank you.”

“no worries. if theres anything else i could help you with, weve got a new selection of stuffed animals your girlfriend might like.” you spoke like it was nothing, acting as if you werent just trying to get information.

“i actually.. dont..i don’t have a girlfriend.” he chuckled awkwardly as he brought up a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“oh really? im surprised someone like you doesnt have a pretty girl on your arm.” you said nonchalantly while you attempted to hide your smile (as if you were going to make a move).

“oh stop!” he waved off when you pointed out how red his ears were getting, assuming you only were trying to boast his ego (hes so unaware)((please get the hint)).

you walk back with him to the register so he could pay after realizing there wasnt much more he needed. “that’ll be 45 charged to your card.” you smiled.

“thank you, ms..?” trailing off as he notices he never actually got your name.

“han. y/n han. glad to be of assistance.”

“oh and- one more thing?”

“sure, what else?”

“what time does the store close?”

“10 at night. extended business hours every saturday.”

“surely youre joking? theres no one else here but you and the owner! thats in like 13 hours. youre working a 14 hour shift?”

“yeah but i get paid way extra so its fine, i really do need it. and yeah we are beyond understaffed but its alright.” you laugh, masking your exhaustion and dread with a bit of your lighthearted energy.

“really? i could never, must be so tiring.”

“it is, beyond imagination. but we do what we can.”

“get home safely then alright? its scary leaving that late especially considering the predators go after pretty ladies.”

“youre a tricky one arent you! how dare you mask that as an attempt to flirt.” you gasp playfully, “ill be fine, its not that far of a walk.”

“walk? youre not really walking home are you?” “well yeah, its not like i can drive when i dont have a car myself.”

“by any chance, might you need-”

“y/n! leave the poor man alone! i need you to stock the shelves in the ornaments section!” yunjin calls out from the storage room and interrupting the conversation.

“ill get to it.” you call back.

“well, i should get going then. it really was lovely meeting you.” he smiles.

“thank you, take care!” you reply, waving as he leaves.

it only hit you many hours later (quite literally an hour before you clock out) that you never got his name, and you regret it oh so much!

even yunjin felt pity for you, multitasking and listening to you ramble about the mysterious man despite all the work she had going on whilst you both sat in her office seeing as there were no customers beyond 9:30pm.

“why cant we close early if theres no one coming past a certain time? its not like anyone needs to be christmas shopping at.. 9:49 at night.”

“its just in case theres anyone who needs something, we cant miss a chance to make more money when we’re low on rent money.” she reminded.

“its only 11 minutes though.”

“and where do you have to be in 11 minutes? you live with your brother and his two roommates with no boyfriend and instead worry about a man you just met.”

“ouch, you need to go out more.”

“y/n you know i love you but i have no time for that nonsense. i need to have fun, yes, but money is essential. clubbing and drinking does not get you there, we both know that.”

-

finally, the dreaded 11 minutes were up and it was time to lock up after a crazy long shift. though, you cant say you were looking forward to walking home after standing in heels all day.

it was all most as if your prayers were answered (or just by a really strange coincidence(?)) that someone on a motorcycle stopped in front of you as you crossing the street.

“heard you needed a ride?” the guy from earlier said as he took off his helmet.

“what are you doing here? its late out.” you replied, acting calm as if your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest.

“cant leave you to walk alone in the dark, can i, pretty lady?”

“youre smart, ill give you that.” you smile when you feel your cheeks go hot.

“ill take you home. come on.”

-

maybe it wasnt the best idea to give a stranger your address, but he seemed nice enough, and pretty trustworthy to say the least.

you sat behind him as he drove through the streets, with your arms wrapped around his waist, your chest flush against his back as you wore the helmet he let you borrow.

he was so naturally warm you felt his body heat through the sweater he wore, thankfully keeping you from being to cold.

soon enough you were home, and he was walking you up to the front door.

“thank you for today even if it wasnt all that much, i had a lot of fun. you made my work day more.. bearable.” you smiled.

“of course, you can always call if you need a ride or anything. dont want you getting sick when its storm season.” he reminded before slipping you a postcard with his number on it.

“id love to get to know you more, but i just broke up with my boyfriend last week.. give me some time?”

sure you technically were the one who found him attractive first but, you never actually thought about initiating something more.

he smiled without a second thought, nodding his head slightly. “of course, i understand. just know ill be here, waiting.”

“wait! i never got your name?”

“ill see you later y/n!” he called out as he left, driving off in the opposite direction.

you sighed and unlocked the door with the spare key leehan gave you, and notice him sitting next to jaehyun when you walked in.

“you have a boyfriend and you didnt tell me? how could you! i thought we were friends.” leehan expressed dramatically from the couch as you took off your shoes at the door.

“not a boyfriend, just a friend. why were you even- whatever. wheres taesan?”

“in the bathroom.”

“thanks. uh- jaehyun is it okay if i change in your room since i left my clothes there?”

“go ahead.” he reassured. “oh! also, by the time you come back the pizza we ordered should be here too.”

you close the door behind you and pull out the index card from earlier to save the number as a contact. however, you couldnt help but smile as you read what it said below.

“your personal uber when you need it! +44 28xxx0xx29 -xoxo gunwook park :)”

[boolger]

The werewolves of Stonemill ☆ COD

updated from: werewolf 141 x werewolf reader something idk

[chapter 1]☆[chapter 2]

MDNI ☆ MDNI☆ MDNI ☆ MDNI ☆ MDNI☆ MDNI ☆ MDNI

(These first two chapters aren't too dark, so they will be posted here. The rest of the fic will only be updated on A03)

☆ Fem!reader x Poly!TF141☆ explicit ☆ wip ☆ 1/12 ☆ 1.2k words.

☆ summary: You had been living your best life in Stonemill for a little over half a decade by now. A lone shewolf living in the town and working at the local bar, surrounded by a lush nature to roam through at night, a perfect piece of Paradise in Montana. A place you DO'NT want to share with any other werewolves. So, when a group of men turns up, buying a big house and stinking of alpha werewolves, you're territory is threatened - and these men doesn't seem to get it into their thick heads, that they need to leave. In fact, the assholes become rather interested in you, trying to get you to join their pack. You just want them to leave, one way or another - but it seems like they won't take no for an answer.

☆ tags: Dead dove don't eat, werewolves, mention of graphic violence, dark!141, poly!141, afab!reader, omegaverse, dub-con, non-con, werewolf AU, foursomes, fivesomes, heat, scenting, hunting, killing animals, chubby reader, forced bonding, kidnapping, non-con touching, non-con drug use.

☆ notes: So this is lowkey taking place in Montana BUT: i am not american and have never been to montana, im just kinda freestyling, just go with the vibes and pretend it fits pls. Be aware that there might be some grammatical errors here and there, this might be an omegaverse but I aint got a beta.

(These first two chapters aren't too dark, so they will be posted here. The rest of the fic will only be updated on A03)

Nestled in between mountains, with trees curling along the roads and fields, the forest caressed the edges of the little town Stonemill. With a small watermill, creating a constant humm of water around the houses, with the stream intertwining the small gardens. It was a quiet town, with at most 150 townsfolk, the farmers living at the edges and with a lush local life.

That was why you liked Stonemill. You hadn’t grown up here, but found it randomly, once you grew old enough to find your own place. By now you had lived there for years, arriving once you were 21 and 5 years later, you still couldn’t imagine moving.

You had everything you needed. A social life, a nice workplace, time to read and do what you wanted, the opportunity to roam the rich nature around you in peace. Sure, a lack of a love life, but you didn’t mind that. A lone wolf, enjoying her life, one could say.

And your wolf was enjoying the freedom in the nature around her. Without any other werewolves, shifters, whatever terms people used for your kind, you didn’t have to bother protecting it that often. Twice, other wolves had passed by, but always left, not fighting over the land. An angry, lone omega weren’t to be messed with.

It wasn’t unusual for a wolf to live alone necessarily, especially since it was common to leave your parent pack in your early twenties, to find somewhere to settle on your own. You had done just that, but in contrast to your two siblings, you hadn’t found any partners yet. 

Despite the respective house owners and farmers, you considered yourself the owner of the area, whether people knew it or not. This was your territory - and your wolf was known in the area.

The locals didn’t mind you, not even the farmers, since you dutifully kept away from their livestock. You tried not to attract too much attention while in your wolf form, but there had arisen a little cult following around your wolf, much to your confusion and displeasure. It started around four years ago, when you saved a woman from an aggressive moose that had gotten into the streets somehow. You had chased out the moose, hoping nobody would believe the woman - sadly, you lived in the age of technology and when working at the local bar the next day, you were shown the security footage by several people. Ever since that people would whisper if they saw you roam the streets, trying to keep in the shadows while you walked to the forest. At least people tended to leave you alone in your wolf-form. 

You were happy. Working at the bar kept you busy, roaming the forest at night kept your wolf sated. 

… That was until they appeared.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“It’s a wonderful place, Captain!” Nikolai declared, “Forest and mountains - perfect place for all of you to settle down!”

“Wasn’t it like 10 years since you drove through the place?” Gaz asked, still skeptical about the idea. He would follow his pack of course, no doubt about it - he loved them all too much, his wolf was like a lovesick puppy around the others. They were all alphas, an unusual group in that sense, without any betas or omega members. Which had also made them such an effective team, aggressive and close to each other. But damn if Gaz didn’t dream of an omega or beta sometimes… Of pups, of their pack becoming bigger.

“yes, yes, but that is besides the point, my friend!” Nikolai brushed his criticism off easily, making Gaz roll his eyes. But he could smell the happiness coming off Price - he knew his captain too well. He had already decided, already fallen in love with the legendary Stonemill. 

“Why America?” Soap whined, who knew for what time, even pouting a little, “they dinnae even have good food.” Gaz clapped him on the shoulder.

“Blendin’ in, Johnny,” Ghost gruffed next to him, giving him a little annoyed stare, “Your furry ass won’t be anythin’ special in the states.”

“Thought ye liked my arse, L.T,” Soap answered while battering his eyelashes at the bigger werewolf, making all the other men roll their eyes, Gaz included.

“If we even want to hope finding our own territory, where random wolves won’t raise too many questions, we need to find somewhere else,” Price pointed out, taking another drag of the cigar, Gaz watching the way his lips closed around the cigar for a moment, “Nikolai’s idea doesn’t sound bad.”

“And if there already is a pack?” Ghost asked, something dark in his tone that Gaz recognized. It always appeared when Ghost had to find out how violent he could be on the missions.

“Then we figure out whether we’re killin’ or chasing off,” Price said with a shrug, dark words said nonchalantly. Gaz didn’t even need to see Ghost without his mask, to know that a grin grew on his face. The way they both talked about this, about fighting for the pack, made Gaz want to suck their dicks.

Retiring this early hadn’t necessarily been Gaz’ plan, but John was getting older and Soap’s knee was getting worse. The mere thought of being in the field without his two pack members made the werewolf want to throw up.

A dark need grew beneath his skin. The urge to find a perfect place for them all, killing if they needed to. He would rip limb from limb, ruin people’s lives, making the world around him a living hell, just for his men.

Most werewolves knew not to fuck with four alpha men in a pack, but sometimes they did anyways - and it almost always ended bloody. Rumors were crawling between the walls of the base now too, of them not being entirely human - but it was mostly just ignored. The few who weren’t human themselves knew the instant they got close to the base. The same people tended to make themselves scarce whenever the 141 were around, knowing they were in their territory anyways.

Nikolai and Price continued to talk, but the voices blended together.

Somewhere new would be a clean slate too in that sense, he supposed. 

Gaz could feel the urge to change, to let his wolf take over at the idea of running through the forest freely. For his hands and feet to change into paws and get the opportunity to just roam.

There had never been much space in the UK, one always had to be careful and in the bigger city, a new werewolf culture was growing, of several packs living in one territory without one being more important than the others.. No, no, Gaz wanted to run free with his pack, wanted to kill prey with his teeth, taste the blood on his tongue, wanted to —

“Earth to Garrick.” Ghost’s dry words and the snapping in front of his face earned a little growl, but from the crow's feet around his eyes, Gaz knew Ghost was smiling. Asshole.

“What?”

“Thought we lost you there,” Ghost hummed.

“No.” He grunted, a little embarrassment crawling along his spine at the thought of having to admit to his daydreams. Despite everything they had gone through, the pack tended to consider him the least dangerous, teasing him for his day dreaming now and again. Gaz wasn't going to give his three lovers more ammunition.

“I just said that Laswell will have our papers ready soon, Kyle,” Price softly rumbled as he stepped closer, free hand gently running along his cheek, the other holding the cigar. Gaz leaned into the touch, eyelids half closed, letting out a little pleased sound. Thoughts rushing through faster before saying,

“When can we leave?”

[next]

[jj-maybanks-daughter]

Bikini

y/n has a party to go to, however, she is wearing a skimpy bikini that john b, her uncle, does not approve of.

warnings

mentions of nudity, inappropriate pictures sent, some smut, cursing, back talk, fighting with dad

y/n has saved up money to buy this pink and green floral bikini for your boyfriend, tristen’s pool party. you must admit, it was pre

tty skimpy, but it wasn’t anything the other girls didn’t wear. 

the day had finally came for you to wear the bikini. you put it on in your room, checking yourself out in the mirror, and damn did you look good. 

you walked out of your room to leave before your dad could see you but a quick “stop.” made you turn around and look at him. 

“where do you think your going dressed like that, young lady?” your uncle jb asked, even though you thought it was your dad.

“party, later” you snapped back at him turning around to keep leaving. 

“don’t turn your back on me” he said angrily, “go change, that bathing suit is way to tiny.” 

“your not my dad.” you looked at him with an eye roll. 

“well than let’s call him.” you didn’t know he wasn’t home so the call caught you off guard 

“your such a fun sucker” you say sticking your tongue out. 

sarah walked in “hey y/n/n, i love that suit!” 

“sarah thinks it’s fine.” you look at john b 

“well sarah’s a girl. of course she thinks it’s fine.” john b snapped right back.

“well this is what im wearing so you’ll have to deal with it.”

“who’s party even is its?” he asked, almost letting the suit slide. 

“tristen’s “ you smirk back at him.

“nope, not going. i don’t trust that boy, or his dad.” you knew your aunts and uncles had issues with topper, but that just made it more romantic to you. 

“ugh your so annoying! other girl will be there dressed just like me!” you yelled 

“well im not the other girls uncle.” he came up as an excuse. 

“well im leaving, later”

“don’t expect your dad not to here about this!” you flipped his off as you walked out. 

after sarah was sure you were gone, she asked john b “why does it matter? i dress like that all the time, if not, worse.”

“exactly. all i can think about is how hot you look, i don’t want a 15 year old boy to be in that position with our niece.” he says shaking his head. “i miss when she was younger and actually listened to us.” 

sarah just nodded her head sitting next to john b. “she’ll be alright.” 

“ok but i’m still telling jj.” sarah just rolled her eyes and walked back to thrr we or room. 

after the party

“y/n sit down, your dad will be here in a minute” were the first words you heard when you walked into the house. 

“ughhhh your so annoying! why do you even care!” you yell at him. “it’s not like i’m walking around naked!” 

“you basically are” john b said under his breath.

you let out another sigh before walking into your room. 

“i told you to stay out here y/n!” hearing your uncle jb, who was usually chill, yell at you, had your mind made up that you should just listen. 

you rolled your eyes and walked back out of your room, sitting on the couch with your arms crossed, giving john b an angry look. 

“look kid i know you’re mad at me but you know i am just trying to protect you, 15 year old boys are dumb.” he said trying to make eye contact with you. “i should know, i was one.” 

“can you at least call sarah. i don’t want to talk to him alone.” you say giving jb puppy dog eyes. 

“i’ll go get her, change into some clothes, please.” you walked back into your room and put on a tee shirt and sweatpants. you didn’t bother taking off the suit, because you knew your dad would want to see it. 

you got a text from tristen, asking to see it one more time so you took off the shirt and pants to take a picture in your full length mirror for him. 

“hot, but i’d like it better on your bedroom floor 😝” he sent back. you just smiled at the text when john b called you back. you put the clothes back on and walked back out, seeing your dad there, furious. 

“great” you said in your head, but still sarcastically. 

“why is it even a big deal!” you ask throwing your hands up. 

“we’re just trying to keep you protected, y/n” your dad said to you, trying to keep his cool. “if i hear that you talk back to your uncle or aunts one more time, you won’t have to worry about what you wear, cause you won’t be going anywhere.” he added

“god he was the one saying that it was too revealing, why was he even looking!?” you yell

“hard to fucking not when you walk out of the house in a string!” john b yelled back. 

“can i see the suit?” jj asked. 

“gladly.” you said rolling your eyes as you took off the shirt and sweatpants. 

“where did you even get that from?” he asked 

“bought it. you can’t stop me from wearing it, it’s mine.” you said in a tone.

“i know i look good in it, everyone said so.” you scoffed. 

“go to your room.” jj said, pissed off. 

“great, that’s all i wanted anyway.” you said in a tone walking back.

“what a fucking brat.” john b said in an annoyed voice. “when did she get like that.” 

“your telling me. just give her time to cool off, im sure she’s had some drinks anyways.

jj wasn’t wrong, you were drinking at the party. 

you decided to send that picture to tristen, almost as a snap back at jj and john b. 

“come over” tristen responded with. that convinced you. you put on the still damp suit and shorts and a cute shirt to head over to tristen’s house. 

“dad, i’m leaving” you yell out to him as you walk out.

“where are you even going?” john b asked. 

“wouldn’t you like to know.” you snapped back. but after realizing that could get you grounded, because you know john b would tell on you, you gave him a one word reply, “tristen’s” john b decided to let it slide, even though it was talking back because you did tell him

jj knocked on the door of your room, not knowing you left. he opened the door to see you not there. 

“do you know where she went?” 

“she went back to tristen’s house i guess” he answered

“why’d you let her leave” jj asked annoyed. 

“she knows how to fight back, there wasn’t anything i could do anyway.” 

tristen’s house 

topper and his girlfriend weren’t home, so they had the house to themselves. their make out led to well, you know. 

jj knocked on the door in the middle of it. they had cameras, what kooks so they could see him on the screen in tristen’s room.

“ugh great.” you sigh, putting your clothes back on. 

he knocked again, this time you answering the door right after.

“come on, were you going home.” you followed him, knowing there was no fighting him. 

back at the château

the boys decided they would let sarah talk to her. 

“can i come in y/n/n?” she asked through the door. 

“i guess” you answered. 

she talked to you about the bikini, how she liked it, and you liked it, but unfortunately, some growing boys would like it more. you cringed at the comment, but you knew she hated it too. she made you apologize to the boys, then took you bikini shopping. 

[that-girl-lyra]

30.07.2023

Not sure if "nostalgic" would be the correct word for what I'm feeling this morning, but thats the only word I can come up with.

When I first moved to Ireland, I had nothing but a backpack full of whatever I could stuff in it. Some clothes, my laptop, a kindle, and a pair of headphones. I searched endlessly for work cleaning houses, walking dogs, anything I could do to keep myself head above water in a new country, all while trying to make my music with whatever free time I could spare.

I remember how excited I was to buy a bike to help save my legs from walking 20,000+ steps a day, and then how proud I felt when I saved enough money to buy an electric scooter. These tiny milestones I fondly look back on, and today is no exception.

That was just a little over a year ago. Now, I am steady. Still self employed, but my income is good, and I have more time to dedicate to my music. Somehow throughout everything, Ive managed and still manage to keep myself not only afloat, but put food in my fridge, pay my bills, and have a bit extra left over to stick into savings, as well as pay for a few fun things here and there.

I suppose the words my mind is searching for would be "greatful", "proud", "accomplished", and "content".

Life so far has been a weird, wacky, stressful, painful, disturbing and downright heartbreaking journey these past 26 to 27 years of my life. And honestly, despite the pain and awful things I've been through, Im not too sure if I'd change any of it, if its what it took to get me where I am now.

If anyone is reading this wee blog of mine, just know that no matter where you find yourself in life, there is always a way.

Nothing is impossible. Just difficult.

[hrts4hanniehae]

clutch || three

there are written parts :)

note that the timeline or educations may not add up but just ignore it because i don't have the brain power to sync up THIRTEEN + 1 's education schedules

also!!!! the story begins in the christmas period of 2022!!!! IF THERE ARE YEAR ERRORS IM SO SORRY!!!! i legit can't change it omfg

okay if we were being very honest, e/n was an attractive guy. well-liked by everyone, especially yn's parents -- mother. he had a good office job, loved the idea of starting a family and was rather... old-fashioned in his thoughts.

e/n had asked her out 2 years prior. she agreed because she was desperate to please her mother. but it wasn't as if she didn't like him. she did. just... not as much as she would have preferred. he was all those good things, but he didn't let her be free. he always talked her down when she brought up her art or passions. but he made her parents happy. so she suppressed it.

when he cheated on her, she didn't feel any sadness. not much resentment either. but when he stole her apartment from her, she lost her shit.

"what do you mean i can't take my apartment back? MY NAME IS ON THE LEASE!!"

"i did not sign that! that's a forged signature! how many times do i have to tell you, i have no recollection of EVER signing my apartment off to him! god why won't you even investigate the signature!"

not only did she have to deal with this bastard's theft, but now she had to deal with him at work too.

"do you know where's the bathroom?" (random museum goer)

she kindly pointed her in the direction of the nearest bathroom.

"oh yn! I didn't know you worked here." - e/n

"hi e/n. what do you need. and where's your side chick." - yn

"she went to the bathroom. i wanted to see you." - e/n

"when the fuck are you going to leave me alone? you already stole my house. what else do you want?" - yn

"yn, you're being ridiculous. just come back to me. i'll ditch her for you. i just wanted to try someone new. you're not exactly a... fun partner you know? fun in that way." - e/n

"leave me alone. i already have a new apartment. just please. i don't fucking like you anymore. just leave me alone. stop harassing me, okay? your idiotic excuses and reasonings don't make ANY sense at all. just go." - yn

"so why haven't you told your mom about our breakup? hm? do you really not like me anymore?" - e/n

"i've told you time and time again. i don't talk to my mother. at all. if you care so much, just tell her yourself. why we broke up. hm? or do you want me to get byeongho to tell her. because I will. i'm not telling her because i'm trying to help you save face. if i tell her, your father will know. and he will not be happy. i'm trying to do one nice thing for you despite you fucking another girl in OUR BED." - yn

and just like a saviour, minghao was running up to her.

"yn, your boss told me to look for you about managing my exhibit. oh. hi e/n. get lost, thanks." - minghao

"mind your own business, [redacted slur]" - e/n

security kicks him out.

"thanks, hao. my day has been ruined because of him." - yn

"i'll buy you lunch? i don't think you've had lunch yet." - minghao

"thanks but i'm good. i don't usually have lunch anyways. i'm going to head home. my shift is over." - yn

"did wonwoo tell you our friend was staying over at your place today?" - minghao

"huh. who? he didn't tell me." - yn

i guess he forgot - minghao

"lee chan, or dino. the soloist. so don't be too shocked if you see him walking around." - minghao

"right. i'll see you tomorrow for lunch, minghao. go hang out with jun." - yn

"he's filming a movie right now. how am i supposed to go see him?" - minghao

"figure it out!" - yn

she forgot about dino and walked into the bathroom not knowing he would be there. luckily, he was half-clothed.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

synopsis: wonwoo is a popular streamer known for his incredible gaming skills and good looks. He turned heads. but he hates the attention. he just wants to play games and earn money. one day he receives a letter. his apartment’s rent has almost doubled. no warnings at all. his current paycheck from streaming can’t shoulder those bills. he has no choice but to rent out his spare room. to who? a fresh art university graduate who has… 1. a stable job ✅ 2. talent for art and sculpting ✅ 3. many friends ❌ 4. social anxiety ✅ 5. no filter ✅ when his iconic cat logo gets copystriked, she comes to the rescue with a new logo for him. when his apartment’s walls start peeling, she fixes it. whatever he used to struggle with… the empty space... was now filled by her. so what does he *last player standing* do when her ex *enemy spotted* tries to take her back? heh. *clutch* he clutches.

inspired by wonwoo's gam3bo1 streams, falling into your smile & gogo squid (has hints of valorant)

pairing: streamer!jeon wonwoo x fem!artist!reader (ft. jeongcheol, soonhoon, junhao, seoksoo, verkwan)

genre: fluff, comfort, slowburn, comfort, pining, bestfriend!minghao

warnings: stalker ex, toxic ex, mentions of abuse, guns (game), cursing, hate comments, panic attacks

started: 28.12.23

ended: ?

taglist: join from my masterlist

main masterlist

smau socials

previous I next

tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @yandere-stories @coupshour @heesbees

[boxheadpaint]

diary post baby. Heavier than usual or at least probably but i dont know or remember a good portion of the things ive ever said about myself on this line. For the normal guys though i had fun making that comic, usually when i get the motivation to make anything in that format i get pretty bummed about it pretty quickly simply because of the paneling

its fun to imagine making dynamic pages of comic panels, but when you have no experience beyond trying to make manga in your teens you mostly just have the squares/rectangles stacked next to eachother. for anyone else this is fine and isnt boring to look at by its nature alone, but for me i always believe that my own work would be too dull and unexciting to eye-catching to even bother reading. trying to just lose that pressure i give myself for a day and make something silly like some animals looking at eachother is nice

one of the things i kept hearing from my own head during the call about The Good News Of Getting Disability Income And Payment For The Time I Wasn't Recieving Benefits, was that i needed to kill myself for some reason. my body reacts badly to experiencing a lot of things, though of course its worst when its negative feelings. not even particularly strong ones, maybe a little nervous or a little mad and it likes to tremble or tense up totally. i dont know why exactly i reacted in this particular way other than the usual "what do you mean i dont need to freak out about this anymore. what am i going to do with all this freaking out juice? just chug it?"

im worried lately that ive built up too much of a tolerance to my sertraline, if thats something that happens. but i dont know for sure, and i dont know what ill do if that is the case. maybe it is still working and i just cant tell because even though its bad things would be much worse if i stopped taking it. it just feels like these days it doesnt do anything to help me feel better or more in control. can i speedrun making it work again by going cold turkey for a week and then getting back on it so my brain is like wow this awfulness stopped after i took this awesome pills.

can i give the money i recieve from social security to someone else to save? is that legal? or do they hunt you down for sport for doing that. what if you wanted to buy a house. or rent a house. Or just fucking live somewhere because these days prices are fucking absurd. ridiculous even.

hey girl, rat piss. hey girl, rat piss. I realize other than the blue puppy video i havent posted anything for pride. partly of anxieties of course, especially given the Great track record of the site withing the past month, but also straight up forgetfulness. I keep forgetting too many things and being too tired to remember. At night though i can do just about anything. I think ill take a nap and then wake up at 2 am to keep drawing. I have things to draw

6/24/2024

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

am i the asshole for not wanting to give my mom money?

i am the only person in my family who has a job and makes money, and as such im often the person they come to for money. which im generally fine with, but i also do not make that much. i'd say i probably only make $1k a month, which i have to use about $200+ of monthly to pay for stuff for all the animals in my house, among other things. im also trying to save my money to eventually move out, get a car and possibly go back to college.

but recently it feels like im being used for money, and when i filed my taxes i was forced to do stuff i dont think i was supposed to bc my mom and my step aunt wanted me to get more money.

and now it feels like every single time i talk to my mom it's just about money. her asking me to borrow my card to go to the store, to buy gas so she can drive around everywhere and see her boyfriend or whatever, and we've gotten in fights about the money. she's on like benefits or whatever so she uses the money she gets a month to pay the bills and get food, so im totally fine giving her money sometimes too to help out. but i dont know. whenever i give her my card all i ask is she gives me all my receipts bc i save them to track my spending and i like to limit my spending per month, and she never does. the only time she has ever given me a receipt was the place she gets weed i think which was like $70 alone. i cant even check to see how much is being spent bc my bank is fucking stupid and doesnt let me, so i dont even know how much she's been spending of my money.

i dont know im starting to get depressed bc it feels like all im good for is my money. i think im already down $500+ this month alone and im so stressed out and i feel bad for being stressed about money since im the only one in my house who has it. but it's eating me up that everyone only is relying on me for it, i cant even have a conversation with anyone without money being brought up. i also cant tell my mom no when she asks to use my card bc she'll yell and get pissed off at me and bring up stuff she does to hold it over my head, and anytime i ask to go on the ride to the store with her to make sure not a lot is being spent she says no. sometimes she doesnt give me back my card for over a week. i cant move out my house bc i walk to work, and i help take care of my brothers. idk. i feel selfish for being upset about not wanting to constantly worry about money.

like right now at this moment she wants me to call my bank to see how much i have, and i know she's going to hold it over my head. if i say i dont want to i get yelled at since she has no money to spend. idk anymore.

What are these acronyms?

[ghosterexia]

If you want to lose weight, you must change your routine.

Here r some of my fav tips thats helps me lose almost 60 Ibs!

DISCLAIMER: I am COMPLETELY pro recov (yes at any BMI), if you are under 18 or non edblrr, plz leave. Take care of urselfs, im not a health care professional and most importantly plz look after urself <3

1.) I never spend much time at home.

Spending my time at home means I’m going to be bored. I know it. I’ve lived on my own for almost two years in October, and through my entire wl process, I realized I get bored at home, even if I don’t have food at my house, I’ll DoorDash. Nothing will prevent me from eating unless I remove myself from the situation. So I’ll take myself out, get a coffee walk around see what’s new and just explore!

2. Eat what you want

The BIGGEST tip I have for consistency. Eat what you want, don’t eat shit ur not gonna like. Of course in moderation. Im lucky that I grew up with parents that taught me a healthy diet, but I LOVE coffee. I used to drink tons of sugary creamy coffee which is just all empty cals. I still drink coffee, i actually tend to have one iced latte every day. Sounds quite excessive but it’s what I know will keep me on my feet. It’s my treat to myself. Plus it’s completely customizable so I’ve found ways to keep my latte cals under 100 cals 😉

3.) BE FUCKING NICER TO YOURSELF!!

YES I fucking mean it. Be kinder to yourself. Having an 3D is already a living fucking nightmare the last thing you need is negative reinforcement. Let’s say you just binged. Sure, you can sprint on the treadmill, or even pxrg3, but you are only going to repeat that cycle. Our bodies are intelligent. Not everything is a mental reaction if that makes sense. If you are b1ng1ng it’s because you need to supplement urself with those nutrients and fuel that ur body is lacking. And that’s okay, plus one or two binges a week (of course within a reasonable amount) can help aid ur metabolism. My biggest tip from bouncing back from a b1ng3 r3str1ct cycle is eating at maintenance and eating nutrient dense foods!

4.) Experiment with your diet

No, this has nothing to do with cals. Like I previously mentioned, I grew up in a household where my parents were cooking healthy real meals. But at some point, I lost a lot of that connection and I had to reteach myself what I liked. With that being said, retry things you used to like, try new foods, seriously the more wider ur palette is the more options you’ll have when it comes down to 3ating.

5. Actually eat better

This is so much easier said than done and I understand that. But seriously eat better. If you are what many call a “junkorexic” sure, you are still eating in a deficit and you are still going to lose weight but like I mentioned before our bodies are so much smarter then we think. Just because u can eat a bag of chips and ramen for dinner and stay under 800 cals a day doesn’t mean your gonna make true progress. Because your only source of energy is coming from empty calories, you aren’t actually getting the nutrients you need. This is going to lead you to a variety of physical symptoms and most importantly of all you are least likely to stick to that di3t cuz ur gonna feel fucking miserable. A 300 cal bag of chips isn’t gonna make you feel full but maybe 300 cals worth of chicken and vegetables might!! You are also just overall more likely to binge because 1 these foods r made to be addictive and 2 ur not actually satisfied and u aren’t ACTUALLY fueling ur body with the correct nutrients.

6. SET URSELF UP 4 SUCCESS

It’s a very broad phrase, but what I mean is if u do ur own grocery shopping and ur buying urself chips, ice cream, sodas (even diet sodas), if you don’t have the right amount of self discipline or you know you lack self control, you r likely to binge. So try swapping out for lower calorie but similar snacks, maybe less snacks that you’ll typically eat and save those cals for meals. Or my favorite, make ur own snacks at home!! ^_^ also LEARN HOW TO FUCKING COOK!! SERIOUSLY the weight will just fall off if u know what ur putting in ur meals and u know what ur consuming!!!

That’s pretty much all I got for now but let me know if there’s other tips you’d like to hear! Please take care of yourself, we are all suffering together, and ur weight is not a determination of how serious ur 3D is. <3

[messenger-of-stupidity]

Soup is for nerds

WOW ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE DONE ONE OF THESE!!

Welcome back to the Shaw Pack Mates Super top secret and totally unknown by anyone outside of the group groupchat. (Name trademarked by Angel.)

Whether these are real conversations I’ve overheard/seen/partaken in or not is entirely unknown and shall stay that way.

CW: Crack, Angel needs to learn what boundaries are but not in a toxic way, Sam is asking for a god to save him he’s not picky on which god he’ll even rely on science it doesn’t even need to be religious, Sweetheart please for the love of the universe put the cat down, Baabe why are you just sitting there laughing?

Actual CW: Crack, mentions to others being sneaky link/hoes/sluts but in a friendly platonic way, GN listeners. Any reference to gendered terms is purely for the memes and not to be taken seriously.

<-- Previous _______ Next -->

Redacted Masterlist

Angel: im so disappointed in u all

Sam: Oh dear. What’s upset you now?

Angel: is that lip im hearing

Baabe: if my boss finds out im on my phone right now im so dead. so whats wrong bb?

Sweetheart: Tracking down a covert breaker. Cant talk rn.

Sam: Now I’m actually concerned. Is this genuine, or is Angel being Angel again?

Angel: not one of u said ‘congrats on ur nuptials’

Sam: I wasn’t aware anyone called marriage nuptials anymore, but also if I’m not mistaken you two have yet to have your wedding since you both are still planning it?

Baabe: CONGRATS ON YOUR NUPTIALS YOU SILLY GOOSE

Angel: this is why im marrying with baabe

Baabe: LETS GET DOWN TO BUSINESS

Angel: ooooooo teeaaaaa

Sweetheart: That’s what he said.

Sam: I think one day I will gather the strength to leave this groupchat.

Angel: oh ill just add u back and then kidnap u to drag u to my basement so u cant ever try to leave me again

Sam: Angel what the fuck.

Angel: HE DIDNT USE A COMMA IM THE REAL WINNER HERE

Baabe: to defeat the huns~

Angel: im so upset rn its not even funny like i cant live laugh love under these conditions

Baabe: aweeee what’s wrong bby?

Sam: Is there something I could do to help? I will if I can.

Angel: hang on i gotta wait for sweetheart to respond so i can get all the attention necessary

Sweetheart: Sorry I was just filming a tiktok with Aggro. Whats up

Angel: perfect all my three hoes are here

Sam: I resent being called that, but I also recognize my powerlessness in getting you to change it, so continue.

Angel: do yall even have any clue how expensive it is to buy a mcdonalds bouncy house

Sweetheart: Why are you trying to buy a bouncy house

Baabe: ngl i’m kinda curious about that too

Angel: well i could just buy it because ur bitch is rich rich but i share a joint account with my mega alpha gigachad of a finance so i cant buy it without him noticing but i wanna keep it a surprise so theres just a bouncy house in our backyard when he comes home

Sam: Don’t you mean your ‘fiance’?

Angel: no i mean finance im just with davey for his money but my real loves is my three hoes in this gc

Sweetheart: Youre so romantic Angel

Baabe: ikr? like just marry me already

Angel: anyways this is my way of asking u to buy me a bouncy house who wants the privilege

Angel: DONT JUST LEAVE ME ON READ YOU SLUTS

Angel: SOS

Baabe: whats wrong sneaky link?

Sam: Once again, I am confused whether or not this is a serious thing or Angel is playing up the dramatics again.

Sweetheart: I can send you a picture of my son if that will help

Angel: yes pls i miss my baby boy Angel: and also were out of sugary cereal and davey is making me eat his yucky worm food

Sweetheart: WHY DID YOU WRITE SOS? THIS IS A 911 EMERGENCY!

Baabe: dw bb i got u. just ask him why hes giving you his dog food.

Angel: oooo good idea hell take it away then and tell me to just starve and give me the chance to naruto run to sams house for breaky

Sam: Now hold on just a minute. I don’t recommend doing that Angel, also I don’t need to eat food and Darlin isn’t here for me to have any reason to make breakfast. I think you’ll survive a morning without your cereal.

Angel: YALL HE THREW A PLASTIC SPOON AT ME HALP

Baabe: MWAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

Sweetheart: rip

Angel: You’re next. - David

Baabe: oh fuck

Sweetheart: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA

Sam: rip

[clatoera]

Always Remember We're Burned For Better Chapter 20: We Will Never Go Back to That Bloodshed

Well everyone...we made it. It has taken nearly nine months but here we are. We are at the end of ARWBFB (save for the Epilogue). This has been one of my biggest undertakings and I am so so so proud of it. You guys have followed me through two board exams, applications, and so so so many different speciality rotations during this journey. You have been incredibly patient but also incredibly supportive. I NEVER could have finished it without you guys. I wanted to get this up sooner or at least on the 13th. I failed at both of those, but I hope you will understand when you see that this chapter is the longest by a significant amount. I am so proud of this fic, and I hope you all decide that it was worth giving your time to sharing with me.

The chapter title comes from The Great War. A fun fact would be that this line actually loops back to "we will never go back to that bloodshed, crimson clover" with Crimson Clover being the title of chapter one. It's come full circle (save for the epilogue).

This chapter is designed like Chapter 4 was. Each segment is divided by a lyric that encapsulates the vibes. It is not as happy, but it is the start of happily ever after.

AO3

Masterpost

As always..this is for everyone who has helped me and loved me and supported this story. I cannot even tag everyone but I will try. A LARGE portion of this goes to @ohhowwehavefallen who has talked about MOST things that happen in this chapter with me in depth and has enabled me (VSC immortalized forever with this one, so is Cato buying the academy). @kentwells who actually helped me make major decisions regarding the sequel, which affected the way Marvel and Glimmer ended here. Thank you for putting up with me. @dukeysquid and @mackcoleslaw for the constant constant support. @clarascrabarmy who talks me off the ledge and is my go to night reader (and night validator that im crazy). @mollywog who has tolerated this fic for 9 months. @crookedlyniceperson who comes in with the memes EVERY single time. @cyansadnessI dont even get to talk to you much any more but you were an OG reader and I am giving you kisses for your love. There are so many more who I am afraid I may have missed (and I know I have missed) but i'm emotional and hormonal and crying as I type this.

This is, and always has been, for you guys who have given me your support and love. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I never would have finished without the love and support of every single person who has read this.

Thank you.

How evergreen, our group of friends

The kitchen, despite the literal war that had raged on outside in District One, was quite literally untouched. Untouched, as in, no one had ever used it even prior to the games or the war that should have resolved the house itself to rubble. 

They had quickly discovered that despite varying levels of damage to the districts, the Victors Villages were left nearly untouched. Call it symbolism, call it fate, call it making a point, but this was not a fact any of the surviving victors were going to debate or question. 

For now they were all just going to be thankful to even have a place to live, especially one that wasn’t an underground bunker in a district that resented them. 

It’s Clove, who is opening and shutting every single cabinet in the bright white kitchen. The golden handles and marble countertops are pristine– perfect and completely new. Every drawer is completely stocked with spices and the same sorts of things her own home had come with, but it is evident that these cabinets had remained untouched from their initial stocking. There was no dusting of cinnamon around the pores of the bottle, no slight film of salt from pouring over a steaming pot. They were still perfectly alphabetized, perfectly aligned in the spice drawer, as if the kitchen itself was taken right out of a capitol home decor magazine. 

Funnily enough, though the kitchen was clearly new, it was so…Glimmer. Or at least the Glimmer she had been forced to become.  

Gorgeous white marble countertops, shimmering golden metal for every door handle and knob on every drawer. The utensils were a beautiful gold, and even the appliances were designed to blend right in with the shining and glamorous surroundings. 

In one drawer, she found incredibly sharp knives with mother of pearl handles, in another were soft baby pink pans. It was very much designed for the fifteen year old teenage girl who had won the house as part of her victor’s spoils.

Somehow, even without the Capitol’s influence, Clove still believes Glimmer would have turned out a golden, pink-loving girl. Or at least, it’s comforting to imagine it that way. 

Clove curls her fingers around the shimmering handle of one of the paring knives, bringing it to eye level to inspect it. The blade is alarmingly sharp for one designed to dice vegetables or carve into fruits, further supporting Clove’s suspicion that it had never been used prior to well, right now. She weighs it in her hand, feeling the way it settles in her palm. Her other hand comes to run over the couple of inches of metal, evaluating the quality. It was top of the line in terms of cooking, of course, nothing but the best for any victor, but it may even serve well in terms of slicing through-

She drops the knife, flinching only a little at the realization of how the metal colliding with the marble will dull the beautiful little blade. It startles her, not the sound of the metal on rock, no that any District Two girl could sleep through like a lullaby, but by the harsh realization of her own thoughts. She would likely never slice through anything but food again, there would be no more blood spitting on her from pulsing arteries, no more tendons severed. 

Clove would probably never kill anyone else ever again. The thought is both disconcerting and comforting, leaving Clove alarmed and settled.

“Are you okay?” A soft, sleepy voice asks from around the entrance to the kitchen. When Clove looks up she sees Glimmer, rubbing at her eyes with her long cream colored sleeves. She shuffles into the kitchen in fluffy white slippers, a sweater that reaches halfway down her legs, and exceptionally messy loose braids that tell Clove that yeah she probably did just wake up.

“Good morning, Princess.” Clove scoffs, gently grabbing the dropped knife and twisting it nimbly between her fingers. “It’s four in the afternoon, Glimmer. Did you have a busy night?” 

“I was with Cash and Gloss all night, we’re trying to figure out what to do about our parents.” Glimmer sits herself at the island continuing to rub at her eye with the heel of her hand, exhaustion written all across her pretty face. “I didn’t come back until this morning.” 

Clove flinches at her own insensitivity– while she was well used to being, well, alone. An orphan. On her own. Whatever, it was..new for the others. Cato’s family was still in the wind, but Glimmer and her siblings, as well as Marvel, were new to the world of being parentless. “God, Glimmer, I’m sorry–”

At least Glimmer had Cashmere and Gloss, the same could not be said for Marvel, who was the only surviving member of his entire family. Clove could easily relate to that, because even if anyone survived, they were dead to her long ago. 

Glimmer just nods her head, acknowledging but not verbally accepting the apology her friend offers. 

Nothing had been necessarily right between the four of them since the vote. Cato and Clove, they were perfectly fine, of course. Marvel however had lost any progress he had made with Glimmer, and Cato nor Clove had yet to fully return to her good graces. It wasn’t even like any of them could blame her for being mad. She had been right. 

“Thanks for letting us stay with you.” She decides, instead filling the space between them with gentle words of appreciation. “Like..literally in your house with you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, you know that.. It’s nice not to be alone.” Glimmer sighs, resting her chin on her hand and looking across the island to Clove, who is still twisting a knife in her hand. “I don’t know if i’m quite ready to be alone yet.”

They weren’t necessarily far from anyone. Marvel spent the days over here with them, Brutus was in one of the empty houses, Cash and Gloss each in their own and then Enobaria was– “Is Enobaria staying across the street in the empty one or down the road–”

Glimmer cocks an eyebrow, the littlest smirk making an appearance on her face. “She’s staying with my sister.”

“Oh!” Clove looks nearly taken aback as she opens another drawer, absently sorting through the perfect, unused cutting boards and kitchen aids to distract herself from the awkward tension between her and her host. “I didn’t know they were even friends.”

“Girl..” Glimmer giggles, leaning in closer on the island, nearly pressing her upper body into the marble. “You know Enobaria and Cashmere are..” She makes a gesture with her middle and pointer finger that Clove can’t interpret, and the confused look on her freckled face must convey that to the blonde girl.  “Right?”

“I don’t know what that means.” 

“Do I need to spell it out for you, Clove? They’re fucking. They’re a thing.”

“What! No, I mean just because they’re staying together doesn’t mean–” The heat in Clove’s cheeks at the realization leaves her flustered, and flustered is not a look Clove wears well. 

“Well that's what everyone thinks about the four of us.” Glimmer teases, before bringing her hand out infront of her to inspect the remnants of her nails. “Seriously. They’ve been a thing for like…god Cash won sixty-four? So… ten…ish years? Probably? I dunno. But it’s not a secret. I’m shocked you couldn’t tell.”

“Well I didn’t see them together much, okay? And noone thinks that the four of us are all fucking, Glimmer. That’s crazy Capitol type shit.” Clove defends, desperately looking through the drawers for a change of topic. Maybe she could understand why Enobaria got so irritated when ever she and Cato got caught–

Yep. Okay. Makes sense!

“Sure they don’t Clove, you don’t see the looks people give us?”

Clove digs through the drawers, finding the still boxed mixer and the perfect white plates, nothing seeming even a little out of place. She is flustered and the heat in her neck and face won’t even allow her to respond to such comments. 

“For fucks sake, Glimmer, have you used anything in this kitchen.”

“Drawer closest to the refrigerator has two little plates and two forks. We used to …uh…we would eat a lot of cake.” Glimmer finds herself grabbing at the skin around her nail with her teeth, tugging at the cuticles until they ripped off. She couldn’t resist the urge to constantly be picking at and degrading something about her body, and right now her nails were all she had access to.  “Other than that, not really.”

“How did you survive, Glimmer? Seriously?” Clove rests a hand on the back of her hip, strumming along the top of her hip while also trying to massage out some of the pain of her lower back that never seemed to go away. 

“Well, everything I ate was precooked and preweighed, I had to keep a certain look you know?” Glimmer shrugs, kicking her feet just a little at the height of the chair, twisting just ever so slightly to keep herself comfortable. “I wasn’t really allowed to go beyond that. Cooking was never important.”

“You’re gonna have to learn to make something Glimmer, especially if you ever have kids–” Clove teases, but the biting response of Glimmer wipes the smile right off of her face. 

“I told you in the Capitol I'm not doing that. I’m never doing that. I don’t want to.” Glimmer snaps before she pushes herself out of the chair so she can make a quick escape if the conversation goes any further south. 

“You used to, I’m sorry, Glimmer. That's who I knew you as. The girl who wanted to settle into her life and be someone’s mother. And for what it’s worth, Glim Glam, I think you’d have been good at it.” Clove puts a hand up in defense, before she awkwardly goes back to going through the remaining cabinets, stopping prior to the refrigerator and pantry.

 She pauses, and turns to face her friend. She gives a heavy sigh, bracing herself on the counter behind her, when she begins.

 “I’m sorry. I am. About the vote. You were right, and as soon as you pulled me into that room– I knew you were right. About his sister and about our friends’ kids and everything. I just wanted to feel like some wrong was made right, Glimmer. It wasn’t going to be me back in the games, and I wanted them to feel what it was like. But then you mentioned Cora, and god knows if she’s alive, but if she is she couldn’t ever go to the games. Or Finnick’s kids, or yours or– I don’t know. All of a sudden it wasn’t just like..nameless kid tributes. It was people we knew. It was kids we knew. It was little girls who looked like you and little red heads in four and! It was kids we love or will love and– you were right. And I’m sorry.”

There is a stunned silence for a few seconds that feels like years to Clove, as Glimmer looks at her with the look of a doe caught in the lights of a car. 

“....thank you.” Glimmer whispers in response, but something palpable has finally shifted between them. Whatever permafrost had threatened to take hold on the boundaries of their friendship started to melt away in that moment. Maybe not a heat wave, but a start. “I…thank you, Clove.”

Clove gives Glimmer another once over as they stand staring at each other. The months of this war had taken a toll on Clove of course, evidenced by the aches in her body and the scars along her skin. Her scars would fade, as her bruises had, and even the pain isn’t visible. On the outside Clove still looked almost exactly like she always had. 

On Glimmer though, the changes were blatant. The golden glow of her skin was long gone, replaced by pale, nearly gray undertones. That long platinum hair was longer than ever, but now revealed multiple inches of a honey blonde natural color that had been hidden since before she even won the games. Even the actual structure of her face and body had changed. Any capitol enhancement had long since grown out or metabolized away, leaving Glimmer with deep collar bones and sinking skin on her cheeks. 

She looked exhausted but she also looked starved. She looked sick. 

“Glimmer…you look hungry.” Clove gives her a look that must be riddled with pity, for the blonde looks away and at her hands instead. “Will you please let me make you something? I know there probably isn’t much in here but I can send the boys out…” B

Before Glimmer can argue or decline, Clove swings the door open to what she expected to be a barren refrigerator and is taken back by the fully stocked fridge that awaits her. 

Well. Full. And Stocked. Maybe not with actual kitchen staples or ingredients for meals, but definitely full. 

“What in the fuck–”

“Marvel does that sometimes. And Cato’s been talking nonstop about your cooking for literal months. They went yesterday, I think. I..don’t think either of them knew what they were doing but they’ve got the spirit. They mean well.,” Glimmer explains, not bothering to put up a fight with Clove and deny her this opportunity. Even if she didn’t eat it– Cato and Marvel sure fucking would.  This was their new Hunger Games.

“Good intentions…that's why there’s seventeen tomatoes?” Clove raises an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile gracing her face as she surveys the fridge. Sure it was a little..odd.. Seventeen tomatoes, three bags of flour, at least fifty eggs, a dozen heads of garlic… odd but good intentioned nonetheless. “I’m going to guess they wanted pasta?”

“That sounds right. I think I heard Cato saying something about that, but they lost me when I heard them trying to remember if onions and garlic are the same thing.” Glimmer shrugs, but finds herself going back to sit at the island, no longer on the verge of running out of the kitchen at any moment. 

Clove starts grabbing armfuls of the tomatoes to transfer them to the countertop, feeling the soft flesh of one under her fingertips. She probably wouldn’t even need the chef’s knife, but damn if she wasn’t going to take the opportunity to use it. “Do you have a big- you know what, nevermind.”  

She decides against asking for a stock pot, knowing fully well Glimmer would have no idea what she was talking about. Instead, she rummages through the cabinets until she does in fact find a blush pink soup pot practically bigger than Clove herself.  She immediately sets herself to gently slicing the skin off of the tomatoes, delighting in the way the acidic juice dripped down over her fingers.

“You should give him a chance, Glimmer, he’s a good guy.” Clove suggests, tossing each individual skinned tomato into the giant pink pot one at a time. 

“I’m not the one not interested, Clove, you know that.” Glimmer reminds her bitterly, reaching forward to attempt to grab a tomato, dropping it when the acid in the juice burns the raw skin around her nails. “He doesn’t want me.”

“Now that isn’t true and you know it. You two seemed fine and then the vote happened and you shut him down again.” Clove points out, turning to the cabinet behind her to grab her selection of the endless array of unused spices. “Which, I get it, you were hurt–”

“He can’t just make my trauma a personal vendetta, Clove. He can’t advocate for slaughtering babies in an arena under the name of defending me and the things that happened to me.” Glimmer hops off the chair once again, this time letting herself scope out the refrigerator and whatever the hell the boys had come up with to fill it with. 

“It happened to him, too, Glimmer. Maybe not as much as it did to you. But it happened to him, too.” Clove collects salt and sugar and various other jars of spices she currently can’t name but knows for some reason she needs to add them. “Glim. Sometimes we care more about avenging the people we love, rather than actually doing what's right. The things that are done to people you love..sometimes that's just worse.” 

“You don’t know what it’s like, Clove. To be seen as the girl who fucks everyone. Whether I wanted to or not. And trust me, I didn’t want to. And no matter how hard I try, for the rest of my life, that is how everyone is going to see me. Do you know what the best part of all this is, Clove? That I never have to be seen in public ever again.” She filters through the fruit– half a dozen containers of strawberries, a single mango, an entire box of blueberries– before letting herself grab a single blueberry for a snack. 

“We don’t see you that way, you know? Not me, not Cato, and god Glimmer you know Marvel doesn’t either.”  Clove assures, using the palm of her hand to measure out the various herbs and spices she’s tossing in. There’s no recipe– she’s just doing what feels right. Such is the theme for all aspects of their lives right now.  “And you never have to do that again. Hell, never have sex again at all for all I care, obviously I do but–”

“Yeah, Clove, I know. We share a wall. The wall your bed is on.” 

“Oh! Right! Well.. anyway!” Clove fakes a grimace and mouths ‘sorry’ before she places a lid on her creation. “Come on. Let's go find the boys, then I'll show you how to make the pasta.”

“I think they’re laying in the yard.” Glimmer waves off, before grabbing another handful of berries to pop into her mouth.

“They’re…laying in the yard?” Clove raises a dark eyebrow, confusion mapped across her face. “Are they dogs?”

“Something about missing grass and fresh air in Thirteen, I don’t know, I could hear them through the window.” Glimmer shakes her head, but stands in the doorway of the refrigerator. “Do you need anything out of here?”

“They’re fucking weird.” Clove clears off a workspace to knead and roll out the pasta, recognizing that this is probably the first time these counters have been used for anything ever. “uh yeah I need eggs and flour… Honestly, I usually make Cato come do this part because I like to watch his hands knead the dough but…let them…become one with nature or whatever they’re out there doing.”

“Why do you need flowers in noodles? I didn’t think you could eat those?” Glimmer cocks her head, holding out the cardboard carton of a dozen eggs to her, but pausing with a perplexed look on her face as she searches the refrigerator for a bouquet of some sort. “I can go check the garden–”

“What? No Glimmer, Flour not flowers.” Clove wipes her hands on the side of her shirt– Cato’s shirt, actually–, and comes next to her friend to point at the various bags on the bottom shelf. “It’s like..it’s white powder, I can’t explain it. It makes bread. Noodles. Cookies… pizza. It makes all the good stuff you probably don’t eat. But we are going to change that.” 

There are a few moments of  silence, as Clove measures things. It’s nearly peaceful, with the only sounds coming from the dough being flopping and kneaded into the marble. 

Silent, that is, until Glimmer finally breaks. 

“Thank you for staying with me.” Glimmer manages to get out, when tears Clove didn’t even know were coming just start pouring out of her friend. “I-i’m going to be alone for the rest of my life, I don’t want to be alone yet.”

Clove pauses her hand folding, brushing her flour covered hands on her shirt before she rests her elbows on the counter, leaning in to truly hear her friend. “Glimmer, you aren’t going to be alone forever.”

“But I am! Yeah, Cash and Gloss are here but..they aren’t here. My parents are gone. You and Cato are going to go home, I don’t want to be alone yet.” Glimmer sobs, furiously wiping at her eyes with her sleeves, Mascara from god knows when smearing along them. “Noone wants a girl that everyone has had, at least not for more than a night, Clove! I’m alone and when i’m alone I just..I swear it’s like someone’s going to come in and they’re going to touch me and they’re going to hurt me and–”

“You’re scared.” Clove realizes, and her heart completely and utterly shatters for the girl. She sees her not as the twenty something girl in front of her, but instead a scared fifteen year old victor she never got to grow out of being. “It’s okay to be scared, but no one's going to hurt you anymore.” She nearly reaches for her hand, she nearly reaches to do anything to comfort her, but something tells her that sudden touch is the furthest thing from what Glimmer needs right now. 

“Someone is always ready to hurt me, Clove. It’s all anyone wants out of me. Noone wants me but they all want me. I just think about all the things they’ve done to me, Clove. How many times they’ve shot me up with something or gave me a handful of pills and just told me to swallow them. Who knows what they’ve done to me…” Glimmer cries, hot tears tracking down her face and onto the fabric of her sleeves. They speckle her sweater, soaking into the cream colored fabric and turning it dark. The levee has broken within Glimmer, and the rushing waves of grief cannot be stopped. “When I won..my sister and brother used to sleep down here. So when I wake up screaming they could come up to me. And then in the Capitol I was NEVER alone and as soon as I was…Cash would come in. She’d hold me, tell me how sorry she was that she let me become a victor, that she didn’t stop me from trying to go to the games. And then, god, once I had Marvel, he practically moved in and he slept me and I actually felt safe. I could sleep. Even back when we were just friends…he’d let me sleep in his room in the Capitol, he was never touchy or pushy or anything. He just let me sleep and sometimes he’d hold me and it was the best sleep I had since I won.”  Glimmer wipes at the tears  again, ignoring how messy she had to look right now. It was her own kitchen and really what did she have left to lose? Glimmer rambles on,  “And you two are here and so I try to sleep and it isnt working as well as it used to and in thirteen I was so afraid every time I heard someone was in the hall that they were going to come in and —“

“When was the last time you slept, Glimmer? Actually slept?” Clove eases, sliding her a dish towel to use to clear the tears from her eyes. “You have to be exhausted.”

“Probably the games, funny enough. Weird that I felt safe enough there but- it is what it is. I tried in Thirteen! And here! it’s just…I can still feel their hands on my skin a-and feel them breathing on my neck and hear their voices and the sound of their feet coming to get me. If I fall asleep they’re there taunting me and grabbing me and-and-and!“ Glimmer  continues to recount her nightmares and real life horrors, her breath catching in her throat and coming out in heaving, panicked, desperate gasps. “I just don’t see what the point of all this was. I don’t have anyone and I’m terrified in my own house and my parents are gone and what did I survive it all for if I’m going to be alone?” 

“You aren’t going to be alone. You aren’t, and you can stay with someone or something but, God Glimmer. Out of all of us, all of the things we have gone through, you Glimmer deserve a happy ending. You deserve to feel safe and loved and god, Glimmer, you deserve to be happy.” Clove finally grabs at her arm, gently squeezing her forearm. “You are safe, Glimmer. And no one gets to hurt you ever again. I promise, Glimmer. You are going to be happy.”

Glimmer…does not learn how to make pasta that day. 

Ten minutes of egg and flour stuck to her fingers is enough to send her back to the verge of tears and back to a safe distance away where she instead watches only. 

Once the dough is chilling and the sauce is stewing, they retreat to the living area, sprawled out on the baby pink couches. 

They sit in comfortable silence while the sauce cooks, Glimmer curled up on the foot of the couch, Clove outstretched on the other end with a book of District One history spread out in her lap. 

It’s peaceful. Comfortable. Safe. 

When Clove notices the Glimmer has fallen asleep, she grabs the fur  throw blanket from the back of the couch and tosses it over her friend. Never in her life had she planned to care for some random victor girl from District One, with enough trauma and abuse in her short life for all of them combined, but here she was. War, she supposed, changed the way you see the world. 

She doesn’t even need to call the boys in for dinner like a mother calling for her kids to come in at sundown, because like the bloodhounds men tend to be, they all but run through the glass back door like the children they never got to be once the smell of dinner reaches the outdoors. 

“Clove? Clove, are you cooking? Do I smell food?” Marvel slips in the door first, literally just edging Cato out to get in before him. “Holy mother of god, that's food. I can SMELL the spice, there's salt in it isn’t there. You’re a fucking saint.”

“You’re a moron.” Cato rolls his eyes, but pushes Marvel out of the way just so he can beat him to the island. “…there is salt and stuff right?”

“You’re also a moron.” It’s Clove’s turn to roll her eyes instead, as she fishes a single pasta noodle out of the water to try it. “If i remember correctly you did talk about my cooking every day for weeks…”

“Months.” Glimmer chimes in as she makes her appearance. It’s only been a couple of hours since she fell asleep on the couch but even the brief nap has her looking noticeably better and more rested. “Every day for months.”

Clove catches Glimmer (but not Cato) off guard with how fast she moves when she reaches out to grab Marvel’s wrist as he goes to dip a spoon into the sauce. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Clove, I'm serious,this is the best moment I've had in months, let me have this. I need something good in my life.” Marvel half pleads, and the tired tone in his voice paired with the exhaustion behind his eyes is all that it takes before Clove is releasing his wrist and turning away. 

“Do NOT go in twice, I will cut off your fingers.” She threatens and has to nearly slap Cato’s fingers away from the pasta noodles where they are cooling. “You two are like fucking children.”

“Oh my god.” Comes from Marvel, but it sounds somewhere between a cry and a gasp. “Clove this is the best thing i’ve had-maybe ever. Maybe that's the war trauma but-” Ignoring her threats he risks it for another dip, and then steps immediately a few steps out of her reach. “Can you stay here? Seriously, can we keep you? Cato you can stay too, if that helps.” 

Marvel slides to the other side of the island, safely out of reach of all three of them as he debates just dipping a coffee cup and drinking the sauce. “For fucks sake, Cato, kiss her. Or Glimmer, you do it. I don’t care. One of you..just..appreciate her.”

“I’ll still kill you.” Cato warns, but he is slightly distracted by the handfuls of fresh pasta he is dropping into his mouth. “Clove is very appreciated, thank you very themuch.”

“.....are you crying?” Glimmer leans onto the counter, propping her chin in her hand as she outright smirks at her once boyfriend. There's the spark of light behind her eyes that Snow had snuffed out long ago starting to glow just a little again. 

“No!” Marvel defends himself indignantly, but they all hear the sniffle and the stifled“......maybe a little.”

I can go anywhere I want, anywhere I want just not home

Two months after their initial arrival in One, at the end of the second great war, after months of Clove feeding them, many tears from Glimmer at their goodbye, and promises of continued communication under the new mechanisms and options– phones communications, along with travel between districts, were allowed once again– Clove, Cato, Brutus, and Enobaria were on their train home. 

Maybe it was irony, or maybe it was fate, but they take the incredibly short trip home on the same train they had come to the Capitol on in their prior games. Neither had ever noticed how the high speed trains went from One to Two in under half an hour, but then again, why would they have paid attention when they were young invincible victors with the entire world at their fingertips?

Still, even a twenty seven minute train ride feels like absolute eternity when you do not know what waits for you on the other end. 

She is sitting as she always has on these trips– curled up with her back against his chest, settled between his legs, head resting on his shoulder. Her fingers snake up to where his arm is resting on the back of the couch, and she laces her fingers in with his. 

Clove sighs as her eyes flutter shut, choosing not to watch the passage of destroyed buildings, burned farms, and mass civilian graves.  There was a time in her life where no amount of bloodshed or the loss of life made her bat an eye— it was what they were trained for— but now…something about it made her stomach turn. 

“It doesn’t feel like we’re going home.” Cato mumbles into the crown of her head, sliding his other hand firmly around her waist and holding her tighter to him. “It doesn’t feel like we even have one.”

“I don’t think we do.” Clove twists in his arms just a little so that she can see his face and languidly brings her free hand up to graze along his jawline. “I mean, we have a house, but I don’t think anyone will want to see us. Exiled to Victor’s Village ..” Her nails scratch along the planes of his skin gently, as she cranes her neck back to really look at him. 

She has spent over half of her life looking at him, learning with him, and ultimately the last six loving him. Looking at him now, though, it’s almost like seeing him through new eyes. 

Scars that the capitol would never take from him along his arms from retraining, golden blonde hair that had grown out enough it reached nearly to his eyelashes, the brightest sky blue eyes that harbored exhaustion far beyond that of a twenty one year old man. 

And yet. It almost felt new to look at this man right now, in the same position on the same train they had been in time and time again. 

It was new to see him in a world without The Hunger Games. 

In a world where they would not wake up day to day to train the next class of tribute children, a world where they would not mentor victor and victor to parade home with pride to their district. A world where they would not raise their own children to volunteer for the games, where they would sacrifice them with a smile on their faces for the glory of being the parents of their own victor child, or pretend it did not shatter them to lose that same glorified baby to the games because they wouldn’t want to raise anything less than ideal little victors. 

There was a version of them, somewhere, that dedicates the rest of their lives to the Hunger Games. 

This is not that version of them. Not anymore. 

Maybe it is because she knows what the life of a victor truly holds now. She learned in the confessions of Finnick, in the strangled screams of Glimmer in the middle of the night. She learned in the stories of Johanna, in the depravity of Haymitch. She learned in the desperation of Katniss, the destruction of Peeta. She learned of it in the loss of her mother. 

She learns of a different life of a Victor, now. In the disapproving, but secretly adoring, looks from Enobaria when Cato carries her across a room. In the appreciative murmurs of Brutus, when he has pancakes with chocolate chips before him. In the updates on Annie’s growing family, in Marvel’s silly, stupid, but nonetheless endearing jokes. 

Above all else she learns of it in the love of Cato, who saw her at the lowest shell of herself, and loved her even still. 

Cato raises an eyebrow at her, shaking her just a little. “You’re thinking of something.” It’s his turn to bring a hand to her face, unwinding from her waist so he can tilt her chin up to meet his eyes more properly. “The corners of your lips twitch when you’re thinking too hard.”

Clove smiles gently, allowing the corners of her mouth to come to a soft grin. “I was just thinking about the last time we were on this particular train. On our way to the Quell. I didn’t think we’d be on our way back like this.”

“I also thought we were only leaving that arena in pine boxes. I didn’t think I’d be coming home. I never thought we’d come home together alive. ”  He nods, looking past her rather than at her as he recollects the feelings and emotions of that day, leaving their district for what they expected to be the last time. Their days were numbered, or so they had every reason to believe. 

For the first time, maybe in the entirety of their short lives, that was no longer the case. 

Clove stretches both her arms out to wrap them behind his neck, relaxing fully and truly into his arms. “Is it crazy to say it feels like we won?”

The station is barren and silent when the train stops. There is no great crowd to welcome home the newest victor this time, no officials to celebrate them. 

And yet, when the four of them are back on the train platform,  surrounded by the rubble of what was once the greatest district in the country, there has never been a sweeter homecoming. 

My house of stone, your ivy grows, and now i’m covered in you

The walk home is harrowing. Two months of cleanup had barely touched the majority of the evidence of the violence, especially along the bases of the mountain, where the various villages had to stack their dead. Slowly but surely they had been transported back to their towns to properly be buried under the traditions of each of the different villages.

That, of course, was just for the bodies that had even been recovered. 

Nearly half of District Two’s population was unaccounted for, and reconstruction efforts had only barely begun to move the piles of rocks that represent the rubble of what was once towering buildings and neighborhoods full of homes. 

The true carnage of the war, the gravity of the loss in this district alone was yet to be understood and tallied. Cato cannot say a word on the walk home, as every time he thinks about the bodies of his parents and sister rotting away under the ash of two, his throat feels like it is going to close on him. Clove by extension says nothing either, only threading her arm around his, holding that same arm with her other hand. There are no words to negate the pain of loss, to ease the ache of the unknown. 

The gate to Victor’s Village is somehow perfectly intact, and from what they can see beyond, so are the pristine lines of ornate houses. A layer of ash covers the ground like fallen snow, and the air feels unseasonably cold up here. It is as if the ghosts of the victors, the families, all of the dead haunt these gates, encasing them in a blanket of melancholy as a reminder that they are the survivors yet again. 

The chill especially wraps around Clove, sending an ache deep to her joints, a reminder that while she is a survivor, she was a victim, too. They have survived but they do not come home unscathed, they do not come home the victors they left as. 

There are lights on in the two houses across the street from their own, and the reminder of life of their mentors is one of the only calming thoughts they can cling to.The rest of the houses sit empty, stale air circulating through them with no victors left to call them home. There is no evidence that there was once life in these houses, no shoes on the porch, no watering cans in the yards. Just like that what was once the fullest victors village has become a ghost town. 

The decision to come back had not been an easy one. District One was in a far better condition, and frankly, none of them were quite ready for life on their own after so much time relying on each other for company and sanity during the war. They didn’t even really have motivation to come back– what did they have waiting behind for them. Eventually the announcement came – much to the dismay of many many many citizens– that the surviving Victors would continue to receive monthly stipends (albeit not near as much as pre-war days) as reparation for the torture and violence inflicted on them at the hands of the prior government  ever since their victory. It made it easier to know that upon their return they weren’t going to have to assimilate into societal roles (and for Glimmer, the real relief came that she would never have to work in retail in one). 

Ultimately, the decision to come back was their own. This place, despite the horrors, the violence, the brutality…it was their home. Maybe it was those things that made it home. 

They stand in the charred grass at the very edge of their yard, Clove with her head resting against his body, Cato running his hand over her arm in an attempt to warm her body to ward off the ghosts of pain that the cold brings on. He rests his head on top of hers as they look at the grandiosity of the home they left behind, still frozen in time, as a relic of the time they were eighteen and in love, feeling invincible. 

“Hey…babe?” Cato wrinkles his brows together, lifting his head from atop hers. “Do you have a key?”

Well of course they didn’t have a key– it wasn’t like they had considered leaving one under the doormat on their way to their certain deaths. 

“Fuck.” Clove laughs against his arm, burying her face in the dark wool of his coat. Her laugh is contagious to him, and he’s shaking his head with a laugh not too long after her. Out of all the obstacles that should have kept them from ever crossing the threshold of their home again, they had not thought to anticipate a key being one. 

She flashes him a playful smirk, raising her eyebrows teasingly. “Are we going to break into our own house?”

Sure, Cato could probably just go through the front door. Of course with the current state of Two, that door would not be replaced because a couple of kids broke into their own house. 

“We left the bedroom window unlocked.” Cato reminds her, catching her off guard as he grabs her by the waist and throws her over his shoulder. “I mean.. I hope we left the window unlocked.”

Clove nearly shrieks as she ends up in the air, his hands giving taunting pinches on the very top of her thighs as he fully carries her to the back yard. The grass is overgrown in some places, burnt in others, Clove notices as she stares at the ground from her place on his shoulder.

Cato surprises Clove again when he flips her from his shoulder to his arms, one hand under her knees and the other under her shoulders as he cradles her against him. “Okay. You’re going in.”  

It’s not even surprising how easily he lifts her to a standing position on his hands, how he can push her towards the bedroom window with such ease. All that to say, Clove's short arms and legs do not make it any easier, with her fingertips barely able to reach the window screen to pry it off. When she does she sends it flying down behind her, and only from the groan she hears from Cato can she tell it hit him. It is using all the dexterity of her little fingers that she is able to slide the window up and open.

“Got it!” Clove calls down to him, and lightly twists her ankle in his palm. “You gotta throw me a little.”

“I can’t throw you through the window–” Cato scoffs, shaking his head adamantly. “No way in hell.”

“Cato I can’t reach, You need to just give me a little boost-”

“A little boost i’m already holding you above my head–” 

“Cato! A little toss!” Clove insists, jolting her foot with a little annoyance. “I’m serious, we need to get in–”

“Fine! But if you bust your face open don’t blame me.” Cato grumbles, and grabs her by the bottom of her shoes. “Okay, ready?”

Clove nods, already bracing her hands on either side of the window. When he gives her the little bit of a toss (more than a little, considering the strength he doesn’t even realize he exerts sometimes), Clove is able to flip in through the window. 

All Cato can hear is a slight scream from his wife as she tumbles into the house.

“Clove…babe…you alright?” Cato calls up, an edge of panic infiltrating his cool tone.  “Baby…”

Clove appears in the window, resting her elbows on the window ledge as she smiles down at him with a coy smirk. “You look like you’re here to beg me to sneak out.”

“If I remember correctly it was me who had the house first..” Cato responds to her smirk with his own, running a hand over the side of his hair. “Will you let me in? I didn’t throw you through the window just so I could still break down the door.”

“Patience, patience, Cato.” Clove teases, but the smile on her face could keep Cato going for the rest of his life. “I’m coming, meet you out front.”

Cato beats her to the front door. Patience has never been his strength, and frankly, it’s fucking cold and she is taking a weirdly long amount of time before she comes down. “Clove open the door, I'm not playing around.” 

When the door does swing open to Clove, somehow already changed into one of his shirts and one of his shirts only, she greets him with a dark smirk, looking up at him from thick lashes. “Welcome home.”

The thin layer of dust that covers every surface in their house is a problem for another time.

Later…after.. Clove sits between his legs in the bath, the water as hot as they can possibly get it, soothing every ache in the crooks of her spine. His fingers trace imaginary shapes over the back of her hand, her head against his chest and shoulder. Hot water had been one of the biggest losses in Thirteen. Clove had imagined this particular moment for months. So much so that it was the first- well…second– thing they did once they were back in their home. 

Their names were still carved into the bedpost, their laundry still in pre-sorted piles on the bathroom floor.  Clove’s skin yearns for the softness of the clean sheets they had left behind (though maybe they were not so clean with the dust and ash layer on every surface). In the morning, Clove will treat herself to tea with the rest of the honey in the cabinet above the sink and to the left. 

“You know, I think Enobaria had the spare key.” Cato realizes with his lips on Clove’s neck, and he deserves the light smack to the side of his head once he says it.

“I do not want to think about Enobaria right now, thank you very much.” Clove mumbles, tilting her neck so he can have more more more as she feels his other hand wrapping around her waist and sliding lower. 

“We made it home, sweetheart.” Cato kisses into the skin of her neck, pulling her somehow even closer. “We’re home.”

“We are home.” Clove repeats, but the emphasis she places changes the meaning of the statement. Yes, they are home. But they are home. 

He is hers and she is his. 

They are home. 

And If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were still around. 

Home is not as idyllic as they may have remembered, but it was home. 

The thunderstorms that once lulled her to sleep, jolted her awake with a racing heart. The sound of rain no longer rain, but too identical to the distant sound of bombs in their homeland.  When she ends up sitting on the porch in the middle of the night, forcing herself to face it, she is always joined by a heavy blanket being draped around her shoulders, and Cato sitting wordlessly beside her. What they don’t know is that in a district not too far away, another girl screams herself awake from nightmares of the past, and is joined by the innocent affection of a man who slides into bed next to her only to sleep, who holds her only with the intention to comfort her while expecting nothing in return. 

The cold hurts more than she imagined it would. It is not just the recollection of nearly freezing to death that frightens her anymore, it is the pain in her body. Their home is somehow always chilly, her wrists and shoulders and back always aching fiercely. Cato knows her, he has her entire life, and is always adamant to add another blanket to the bed or turn up the heat even when it leaves him himself sweating. 

Brutus and Enobaria still let themselves in multiple days a week for breakfast.

A few weeks into their return, a knock on their front door long before breakfast startles them both. He’s sitting at the kitchen island admiring the concentration on her face as she carves into something she will undoubtedly transform into something fantastic in an hour or so. 

“Who comes to see us?” Clove raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t look away from her task before her. “Enobaria and Brutus have never knocked, and you know Glimmer and Marvel couldn’t be awake this early..”

“They’ll leave.” Cato shrugs, reaching out a hand to nab some of the intricately carved strawberries Clove had already finished with. “Ignore it.”

The knocking only increases in frequency and volume, and Cato rolls his eyes as he pushes himself away. “I’ll get rid of them.”

Clove can’t wipe away the smirk that rises as she watches him walk away, all shirtless with sweatpants slung so low on his hips that it wouldn’t take much effort from her when he comes back to–

She hears the door swing open but does not hear him scare anyone off with a threat, nor does she hear anything at all. “Babe?” Clove calls out behind him, wiping off the blade of her knife with a towel before she lays it down on her cutting board. “Cato?” She calls again, quickly covering the distance from the kitchen to the front door. Cato isn’t even in the doorway, and Clove doesn’t know why that makes her heart race.

Once she makes it to the door, to see what is waiting on the porch, her heart fully stops. 

Wrapped around Cato’s torso are the long baby limbs of his baby sister, little arms clinging around his neck, long blonde curls covering where her face is absolutely buried in his neck. He’s got both arms around the girl, one hand holding her head to his shoulder.  Immediately to his left, with her hand on his arm, is his mother. War was unkind to her, as the woman Clove once looked up to and yearned to emulate in some ways looked more fragile than ever. 

“Hi Clove, Honey.”  Cato’s mother greets her with an exhausted, bone tired smile. There is a lack of light in those blue eyes, a sorrow Clove hopes never to imagine. 

Clove furrows her eyebrows, tilting her head just a little and it is enough of a question for the older woman to perceive it.  

His mother takes in a sharp breath and shakes her head very quickly in the negative and it is all Clove needs to see to know that this is it, this is all that remains of Cato’s family. A mother and a sister.  

“I missed you, so so much kiddo.” Cato whispers to the girl, gently running his hand over the back of her head over and over again. 

Clove steps forward and gently places a hand on the taller woman’s arm, ever so slightly squeezing. “I’m so sorry.” 

The blonde woman presses her lip together and nods, taking her arm off of her son and instead wrapping them around Clove in a hug. “I’m glad to see you again. I don’t think he would have survived it without you.” 

“I wouldn’t have either.” Clove admits, allowing herself to squeeze a little tighter to the woman, analyzing her change in body structure. 

“He’s been gone a long time.” His mother informs them both, patting Clove’s cheek gently before she goes back to wrap her son and little daughter in her arms. 

“Where have you been?” Cato gets out, his voice nearly cracking as he looks down on his mother. “Where did you go?”

“We’ve just been on the move, huh baby?” His mom brushes Cora’s little arm, pulling her attention from where she is hiding in her brother’s arms. “We have just moved constantly, no one could catch us if they didn’t know where we were.”

“Is home…” Cato starts, unable to force the rest of the words out into the world. 

“Gone. long gone.” His mother explains, as Cora raises her head and latches eyes with Clove. 

“You can stay in my house.” Clove immediately offers out, waving slightly at Cora. “Hi, sunshine.”

Immediately Cora lifts her little blonde head and practically wriggles out of Cato’s arms, nearly running into her once she has her little feet on the ground. With his arms free Cato wraps his arms fully around his mother in a hug, and Clove can see the way he melts into his mother;s arms like a little boy

Clove initially wants to kneel to Cora’s level, to become eye to eye with her. However, this six year old child is nearly to her shoulder’s already, and Clove is taken back by how tall this little girl has become. “You’ve gotten so big!”

“I’m as tall as you!” She cheers, and this bright angel of a child wraps her arms around her sister in law. “I missed you, Clove.”

“We missed you too, Cora Jade.” Clove promises, leaning down just a little to kiss the top of her head. “I think you’re going to stay in the house next to us for a little while!” She can no longer scoop her up, with how tall and gangly she has become in the last year. Clove tries anyway, scooping Cato’s sister to sit on her hip despite the fact they are nearly the same size. Cora immediately relaxes against her, and somehow, some way, Clove feels like something deep inside her relaxes with relief, too. 

And though I can’t recall your face, I’ve still got love for you 

For kids who had been trained to kill, who have taken lives, they were more surrounded by death than ever before. They hadn’t expected the influx of funeral services and war memorials they would be expected to attend. 

His father had of course been the most painful, with the heart broken sobs of his baby sister, asking when she’d see her daddy again. It was devastating for Cato, too, who had to learn how to be an adult man in a world without games without his father to guide him. The loss had hit him harder than he dared to admit. 

At the end of what felt like the tenth funeral service they felt obligated to attend, this one of an old classmate and her younger sister, while Cato played nice with another ex-classmate Clove found herself wandering to a part of the cemetery that she had never allowed herself to cross into. 

It was sacred ground, really, treated with utmost respect. Perfect lines of simple limestone grave markers stretched in perfect lines of 25, save for the last row. No tribute came home to be buried from seventy five. The victors, they were in a separate area even still, with lavish, over the top headstones. But here, in a well maintained corner of the District Two cemetery, rest every single tribute who did not make it to victor status. 

The boy from her games did not even have solid grass on top of his grave plot yet, and the ceaseless bombing did nothing to aid in that process. The girl from Cato’s games is a little further grown over, with a thin but respectable layer of fresh grass that grows in all directions. She can remember some of the others, mildly. The boy who lost against Glimmer, the girl who Johanna took out. 

It is not her own peers, though, that interests Clove. 

She weaves through years and years of games, of either single or double headstones from every single Hunger Games, from 75 to 62, and finally to the one she had avoided the entirety of her life. 

Six feet below her feet was the remaining body of Sevina Kentwell, being the closest Clove has been to her mother in nearly eighteen years. 

It is a simple marker, like all of the others. With the name of the tribute, the date of their birth, and what place they came in their games.  Somehow, seeing first runner up, though she had known it the entirety of her life, manages to rip her heart from her chest, coating the white limestone with the spray of hot, wet blood. 

Or at least it’s how it feels. 

There is no mention of the life Sevina had prior to the games. No mention of the daughter she left behind, how she was a mother who loved deeply and to the last day of her life, how she was the daughter of a cruel woman who only became that way after the loss of her child. 

Clove does not know when exactly she ends up on her knees, kneeling before the stone that is no taller than her in this position. 

It is when she notices the little symbol on every stone– some knives, some stars, some hearts– that she realizes there is some small personalization that makes these tributes people. Children. 

Clove’s right hand reaches out, shaking just enough that she notices, as she traces her pointer finger over the etching of her mother’s name. It is then, as she reaches the I, that she realizes the dot over the initial is a clover. 

The weight of a war, of physical torture, of two Hunger Games, the destruction of her home, and a loveless, empty childhood hits her. If she were not already on her knees she would have fallen to them, as it feels like she is the one who just had the breath slammed out of her against that cornucopia. 

The death of her grandmother meant next to nothing. She had openly spoken out against Clove after her appearance in Two, proudly sharing the narrative that she was a traitor and that her daughter died because of this mistake of a child. Yes, she raised Clove and turned her into a victor with her cold demeanor and cruelty, and for that Clove had no choice but to be thankful, but still, she did not feel a great loss at the news of her death by rebels in Two. 

She thought nothing of the news that her father and his entire new family also died in the roles of loyalists. He had been dead to her long before the war. 

The entirety of her family would die with Clove. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in sixty years, but there would be no one left to remember any of them after her inevitable death. 

Maybe that was the gift she could give to the ghost of her mother– the erasure of the people who treated them so cruelly. 

That of course meant the erasure of Sevina Kentwell and Clove herself, as well. 

While Clove had spent the entirety of her life to become a victor, to carve her place in history, right now the idea of slipping into anonymity and living a mundane enough life to not be remembered didn’t sound like the worst ending in the world. 

Sevina Kentwell died nearly eighteen years ago, but somehow it hits Clove like it is the first time all over again. This feeling– the elephant on her chest, the choking, gagging sobs that she could not control, the tears that felt like burning salt on her cheeks– may as well have been from the little girl whose mother never came back for her. 

She felt an overwhelming need to speak out loud– to the air, to the universe, to whatever could hear her– that she couldn’t really explain. It felt silly, to just speak into thin air, and yet she doesn’t have it in there to stop herself. 

Clove wipes her tears on the back of her sleeves, rocking back to sit on her heels. She pushes her hair behind her ears, before she crosses her arm over her chest, tucking her hands along her hips on opposite sides of her body. 

“I’ve always kind of wondered what was so wrong with me as a baby, if I was so unlovable of a little girl that it was just..so easy to leave me. Grandma always told me thats the case…that I’ve been fucked up since I was born and that it was easy to leave a crazy little girl. That the risk of dying was better than having to spend eighteen years with me. I believed it, too.” Clove leans her head back, squeezing evergreen eyes closed and taking a deep, shaky breath to the sky, desperate for cool morning air to fill her lungs and quench the burning that ravages the back of her throat.  “I can’t remember what you look like. I’ve seen pictures but I can’t remember. I don’t remember the sound of your voice, or what it was like to be held by my mother.”

“I want to be angry and I want to blame you for everything that is just so fucked up about me, but I don’t know. I probably wouldn’t have been sent to training if you were a victor, huh?” Clove sniffles heavily, the skin of her face burning from the continued assault of tears that just cannot cease to flow. “And then I wouldn’t be a Victor..And then I never would have met Cato.” 

She isn’t quite sure she can believe it, though it is rational. If she had not needed to win the games herself, she never would have been sent to training to become a victor, and by extension would have never crossed paths with Cato. 

There is another part of herself though, the far less rational part, the part that let her fall for her training partner, that believes in any universe, in any version of reality, some way somehow, they would always find each other (though that she would never say out loud). 

“I married him, you know. I’ve never said it out loud.. I’ve never told anyone about it.” Clove whispers to the universe, words barely falling past her lips. “But I did. I guess I wasn’t so terrible and unlovable after all, or maybe I was, and he’s a little terrible and fucked up too. We’re made for each other in that way. He’s…the love of my life.”  She finds that her right hand is twisting at her left ring finger, the empty digit lacking any physical or public reminder of such love. It didn’t matter. They knew. “Enobaria took really really good care of me, too.  Like she had promised you. I don’t know if I would have survived without her. Both literally as a baby, but also in the games.” 

She exhales shakily. Her breathing is weighty and consuming, as she feels her throat tightening with the burning feeling of exhaustion. “I wish I had a mom these days, not that you’d know what a world without the games is like anyway…but it would be nice. To have a mom for the rest of my life….Whatever it looks like.”

Clove rests her body weight on her hands in front of her, steadying herself as she catches her breath and regains her composure. She raises her left hand again, branching herself on her mother’s headstone so she can push herself to a standing position. She brushes off the grass on her knees, smoothing down the skirt of her formal black dress. Digging the heels of her hand to stop the tears, she is unconcerned with the fact her makeup is certainly smeared around her eyes. Clove takes a shaking, stabilizing breath, gently reaching down to pat the top of the rock. 

“I miss my mom. I miss you, and I don’t even know you but I know that I love you.” Clove brushes her deep hair behind her shoulders, standing up straight like the victor she will forever be. She is all that is left of, and all that there will ever be, of the woman who eternally rests deep under her feet. “I owe you, quite literally, for my life. In all senses of it. So uh..thank you. For ruining your life to give me mine.” 

Clove takes one final shaky breath, craning her neck to the sky to stop the flow of tears. She wipes at her cheeks quickly, before shoving her hands in the pocket of her coat. Clove weaves back through the tribute corner, and before she even reaches the little gate she sees Cato leaning against one of the metal posts, one ankle crossed over the other, hands in the pockets of his own coat.

As soon as she’s within reach his arm is around her shoulders, using his hand to smooth down the hair at the top of her head before he kisses the crown of her hair gently and swiftly. Of course he can see the tracks of tears, the pink tint under the field of freckles, but he doesn’t comment on it. This was a private moment for her. 

“Ready to go home?” He pulls her in closer to his side, body heat warming her against the cool, rainy air. 

“I think we have one more stop to make.”

Everything you lose is a step you take

The only thing left of the academy which they met, trained, and ultimately, became themselves is a set of chipped marble stairs. The grand archway is reduced to piles of rubble, the long stretch of the building that was once home rests in various piles of rocks and decay. 

Their classmates were mostly dead, either after being forced into roles as peacekeeper soldiers or victims of various bombings. There were no more dorms that they had once snuck around, no more rooms full of knives or spears or dummies to use as target practice. There were no more closets to sneak off too or bad showers with cold water and low water pressure. 

All that was left of their childhood were the very steps they sat on now. 

Cato sits beside Clove, hand in hand. 

“I thought we’d spend the rest of our lives in this building.” Clove admits, brushing the hand that is not interlaced with his over the remnants of the grand staircase. “I imagined we’d be the most successful mentors, well, ever.” 

“Spend our lives in the building? I thought we’d own it. Rename it to the Kentwell-Hadley Training Academy, then we could claim every District Two victor forever. It would be like our legacy.” Cato teases, but the longing edge in his voice tells Clove that no, that is not entirely a joke.  He clears his throat, shifting so his chin was sitting on top of the crown of her head instead. “Do you ever think about the day we met?”

“Yeah, you broke my collarbone.” Clove smirks, craning her neck so she can look him in the eyes. They would never be back in the place they met, in the place she realized she loved this arrogant, temperamental boy. This, right here, was as close as it would get. “I thought we were going to hate each other forever…that we’d go out killing each other in the most violent, showy way we could. 

“And you stabbed me!” Cato indignantly nudges her with his shoulder, but brings his other hand up to cradle her face in his. I never thought, in a million years, we’d be lucky enough to be right here, Clove.”

“Alive?” Clove teases, but takes the opportunity to lean in and press her forehead to his. “On the rubble of the academy?” As much as she teases, she knows what he means. He means hand in hand, far from the enemies they were the day they met. He means the love they share.

“Together. I never thought we’d get to be together.” Cato admits, leaning in somehow closer still, so that their noses also could touch. “All this shit Clove, and the only constant in my entire life, from the time we were actual children, has been you. It has always been you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not getting rid of me any time soon.” She promises, wrapping her arm around his neck so that she can pull her upper body flush to his as she finally finally finally connects her lips with his. Clove melts in his arms as he fully wraps his arms around her and holds her as close as he humanly can to him. When she pulls back, resting her nose against his once again, she laughs. “What do we do now with the rest of our lives?”

“I could say each other–” Cato taunts, but laughs as he gives the slightest shrug before she can refute him. “I don’t really know. We’ll figure it out, like we always do.”

“Together?” Clove teases, leaning back so she can fully lock eyes, green with blue, as a coy little smile creeps onto her face. “I love you. More than I loved the games.”

“Aren’t I special.” Cato soaks her in. Wet dark curls framing her face, freckles like constellations across her nose.  If he got to see this for the rest of his life.. He’d die happy. Hopefully not for many many many years, but happy nonetheless.“I love you too. More than anything.”

“You just have to one up me..” Clove rolls her eyes playfully, but she does not actually move from her place in his arms. “You know, if you want to actually get married again, you do have to ask again.”

“Are you going to say yes?” He pinches her hip playfully, causing her to squirm in his arms which he uses as the opportunity to grab her even tighter. 

“Depends on the day.” She warns, but grabs his face in both her hands immediately after. She can see it all in his eyes. The nine year olds they once were, the twenty one year olds they are now. Their entire past lies crumbled beneath them, but with her arms around his shoulders and his around her hips the entirety of their future rests in their arms. 

All the uncertainty of this new world, it didn’t matter. The future, whatever it would be, would be okay.  Whatever their future held, would be just fine, so long as it held them. 

Cato and Clove.

“Always and forever, Cato. It’s you and me, always and forever.”

I had the time of my life with you. 

[gtlurker]

Chapter five! Sorry for not updating in a but I've been busy, this ones kinda short, enjoy!

“Okay, so you need new clothes.” I say while loosely gesturing at Isabelle's threadbear dress that she's clearly had just a few years too long.

We got to the safe house about half an hour ago, and Isabelle has already had three panic attacks and even bit atlas once when he tried to pick her up. She looks down at her dress and then backs up at me, her expression clearly conveying that she doesn't think they make clothes in her size.

“Atlas over here makes doll clothes, I'm sure he has something in your size.” I gesture over to Atlas who is wasting a bandaid on the small bite mark that isn't even bleeding.

Atlas has told me that he plans to be a dressmaker once he gets out of college. He works with me since we make a lot of money in our line of work so he can save up to start his own business. He makes miniature versions of his designs for practice, which im sure would fit isa perfectly.

“I'll draw you a nice bath while atlas grabs those?” i suggest, and she just gave me a weird look. With a sigh I grab a small bowl from the cupboard and set in behind the old breadbox. Most of the kitchen appliances here are pretty old and the house is old despite the money we make.

We have to keep a low profile.

Besides, most of our money goes to buying weapons and extra cars so we can’t be traced. “You can go behind there for a bit of privacy, we won't look, promise.”

Atlas says, and I watch her carefully step behind the breadbox as I fill a cup up with warm water to fill the bowl with. I send atlas to go grab a bit of shampoo, conditioner and body wash in a bottle cap.

My hand Hesitates for a moment when Isabelle lets out a small sound of surprise while I was reaching my hand in to grab the bowl. “Not looking, just grabbing the bowl.” I reassure her.

She reminds me a bit of a squirrel. She jumps at the slightest movement, when we were eating early I saw her stuff a bit of food into her pockets, she's fast, and most notably her size.

Now that we aren't actively trying to escape the lab, I'm able to fully take in her size. She goes against everything I learned in school. Logicly, a person of her unique stature wouldn't be able to produce enough body heat to keep themselves alive and would need to be constantly moving and eating to keep themselves alive. Kinda like how hummingbirds drink sugar water and are constantly in a state of movement.

Yet, here she is. Defying math and logic itself by standing at a mere fourish inches tall and near starving to death via malnourishment and seemingly producing enough body heat to not freeze death.

Hopefully she'll answer my questions and explain what had happened to make her like this before her brother comes to collect her. I can't explain why, but the thought of her leaving makes my heart heavy.

With a sigh, I make sure she has everything she needs before I leave the kitchen to go find atlas. It doesn't take long because he's usually in either one of two places, his bedroom or the studio.

I do the same knock that anna did during ‘do you want to build a snowman’ on the studio door, and wait for his confirmation that i can come in.

“knock normally.” he calls back, i can tell that he's focused. A grin stretches across my face and I proceed to bang on his door, again to the tune of the famous kids song. He groans and I laugh, “come in.”

I enter the studio and am immediately hit with the scent of fabric glue invading my sense of smell, I cover my nose while opening the window closest to him. “What are you working on? And does it need that much glue?” I ask, and atlas doesn't even bother to look up.

“Pajamas, Isabelle needs something to sleep in doesn't she?” he replies dryly, a small sigh escapes his lips as he sets down his pin to look up at me.

“Am I in trouble for hitting you with the car?” i laugh at the question, “of course you are.” he deflates, and goes back to his work. “Unless. . .” I start with a smile in my voice, and he turns back and spins around in his chair immediately.

“Find out everything you can about isabelle.”

[thedisablednaturalist]

My parents found out about the present I bought myself for my birthday. I worked my max hours to afford it. I had it shipped to my bfs house so they wouldn't see it. Apparently I missed a receipt that was hidden in the box. Idk how they got it anyway cause I put the box out with the trash/recycling. My mom was being so cruel about it and how I keep buying myself "lavish" gifts (most stuff I buy for fun is like $10-$50 max). I always plan my purchases and have never missed a credit card payment. Most of my money goes towards doctors visits, medication, car maintenance and gas, accessibility items/ergonomic stuff, cat food and litter, and hygiene. Recently I stopped most of my subscriptions save for a cheap minecraft server. The bulk of my pay goes into savings which have really grown since I got my raise. I also give my parents $400 in rent each month. I'm trying to save up for a recliner to replace my bed but I don't want to use the money I've already put away.

Like ok, maybe I'm not mr.frugal. maybe i sometimes buy more expensive things because they're more convenient (like already cut vegetables/fruit or preprepared meals) but like my hands fucking hurt and sometimes I don't have the spoons to feed myself. Maybe I fall prey to impulse purchases once in a while. Im learning and I'm trying to learn how to budget bc now I have to also pay for insurance until I can get on medicaid.

My mom acts like I don't care. She sees amazon packages come for me and think theyre all toys or expensive skincare or junk when its actually body wipes for when I cant shower/so i dont come back from the field to the office all stinky. Its a trash can I can keep on my bedshelf so I dont throw trash onto the floor instead. Its knee braces because my knees fucking suck. Once in a while Ill see something on sale that ive been wanting for a while and will grab it. And the most expensive skincare I use is $20 for a jar that lasts me 3 months. I have to keep my skin clear or ill pick and have scabs and blood all over my face again. I spend money on drag because it MAKES me money. Last time I got paid $100 from the venue and $50 in tips. One time I got paid $300 from the venue (i dont remember how much in tips).

Im trying my best. Im working with 3 government agencies rn to get a job and get health coverage. Im working my ass off at my job when i probably shouldnt be working (my mom laughed when I mentioned this). I'm constantly doing things to earn me money or to make life a bit less painful. Even streaming is a desperate attempt to make a career/side gig out of something I enjoy and doesn't make me flare up. I only watch shows when im with my bf or when im doing chores or working. I rarely play video games. When I flare I lay in bed and scroll Tumblr or play a mindless dress up game where I only have to move my thumb. I cry almost everyday. I cry on the way to work. I cry holding my cat in so much pain i cant move.

The only big frivilous purchases I've made is the present and a new graphics card (I haven't replaced my old one in a decade). The present cost $230 and the graphics card cost $800. Both of these I saved for. I might buy a nice skirt once in a while but thats pretty much it. I also spread out big purchases over time when I can.

Am I spoiled? Maybe. Maybe my parents are right and I'm a lazy spoiled kid who just makes excuses. But my pain is real, constant, and severe.

I have friends who's birthday presents consist of trips to fucking italy or the bahamas. Who complain when their parents drag them on yet another international vacation. Some are amazing people who are grateful and work their asses off. And some of them are a bit entitled. My mom said most 26 year olds are living on their own with jobs and I fucking laughed. The only 26 year olds with their own apartments especially in my area either have 5 roommates in a 2 bedroom shithole, got lucky and have a high paying tech job, their parents pulled strings to get them hired, or their parents are paying partly or fully for their apartment.

And when i tried to find an apartment? She discouraged me and told me id never be able to afford one (correct) but now im suddenly able to when it suits her argument? Ive been heavily job hunting for over a year and got ONE interview who ghosted me after two interviews. I make $2k MAX. Rent in my area is $1700-2500 for a freaking studio. The $1700 one doesn't let you see the apartment and gets snapped up immediately. And these are all apartments within a 2 hour radius. All the "affordable housing" is for people 55 and older.

Like I literally have no options. I can't move until I get a job in that area. I can't leave the country cause Im disabled and also thats fucking expensive. My bf makes less than me and even combined we couldn't afford a place.

Literally, I've never been suicidal before. Ive never struggled with that due to my fear of death. But all of this? Ive recently had suicidal thoughts and its fucking scary. Thoughts that killing myself would make it easier for everyone else. That it would be easier to just end it, that life will always be a living hell and i should just give up. And thats fucking scary! I shouldn't have those thoughts! But that's how bad it is.

I try to do what my therapist told me. I try to set boundaries. But setting a boundary means not eating dinner bc I leave when my parents yell at me. I try to think positively and ignore the pain. I probably walk an average of 1-2 miles a day. I try and try and try and it hurts so much. They can't be proud of me? For even big victories? Guilting me about graduation cause I took too long. Keeping a job for more than a year (its not a REAL job cause its hourly and doesnt have benefits).

Like what's the point? I've been fighting and fighting and most of the world wants to see me dead and gone anyway. I'm trying to work in a field that doesn't even consider people like me. If I cant work Ill just bring my boyfriend and my family down. Every step forward I manage to take I get dragged back 10.

Im so tired and ashamed and stressed and my fucking body hurts worse now because of the stress and i just dont want to wake up tomorrow.

[tainted-red]

Cigarette.

TWS: Violence, Sadist, Angst, Language, Dark Rafe.

Summary:Based off of Lana Del Reys album ‘UltraViolence’ aesthetic.

“I bought you some stuff stuff. Your gonna fucking use it” Rafe spits at you as you just got home.

You smile at him “Where is it? What am I using it for?” you question everything.

“On our bed. You will definitely get the idea, Darling” Rafe nods towards our door.

I kiss him on the cheek then go into our room. I look at the white blanket bed to see a gun and two knives in light pink bows.

You blink and pick up the gun. Seeing it was heavy enough you knew it was real.

“No Rafe” You sigh.

He storms into the room “You like it, princess. I got them just for you” Rafe grins. Wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I'm not using these” You state.

His gripe on your waist loosens. “Yes, you will. Or you can help me with other stuff” Rafe whispers in your ear.

His hands play with the hem of your white blouse.

“What stuff Rafe? Last time we almost got caught” You bite your lip, “Barry said he has a load for a guy on the pogue territory,” Rafe tells me.

“No Rafe. Stop trying to get me to be your Bonnie to your Clyde” You groan.

He sways his hips with yours “You will do what I fucking say y/n. You knew what you were signing up for since you met me” Rafe chuckles.

That was true. You met him by buying cocaine from his friend Barry. Rafe was freaking out cause he killed someone. So you helped him calm down.

“I love you, Rafe but I won't kill someone for shits and giggles” You seethed.

Your jaw clenches as he wraps a hand around your throat.

You step away from him and push him back.

He looks at you astonished.

Pushing you back by your waist.

You bump into the wall “Don't ever do that shit again y/n. I thought you were a smart girl” Rafe smirks looking down at you.

You felt a pulsing from your ribcage “You hurt me” You cry.

“And I'm sorry. Your fine sweetie” Rafe cups your jaw.

“Screw you Rafe” You whimper pushing past him lightly.

Walking towards the door to leave your room.

Suddenly a bottle smashes right at your feet. Looking down to see glass everywhere.

“What the fuck” You shout.

“You make it so hard to stay with you y/n. Stop being such a good girl” Rafe yells back.

“Are you out of your mind?! You pushed me and threw a bottle at me cause I won't commit a crime” You shoot back.

He lets out a deep chuckle “No harm done”.

Rafe then walks past you out of your room. You follow behind him “The fuck does that mean” You ask confused.

He paused.

“You're not hurt so no harm done” Rafe grumbles.

“You hurt my ribs, Rafe. Harm was done” You let out a sob.

He turns around and gets closer, and you back up. He raised his hands in the air.

“Let me see. Take off your shirt” Rafe demands softly.

You slowly unbutton your blouse.

Revealing a bruised right where your tattoo for him sat. His hanwriting, from a first love note.

His eyes water and he gets closer “I'm so sorry baby. I didn't mean to” he cries.

You look away crying “C'mon let's get some fresh air” Rafe requests.

Getting closer and kissing your lips softly “I love you so much” Rafe wipes away your tears.

“I love you two” You weakly smile grabbing his hand. Both of you going to your front porch.

He digs out his pack off cigarettes, holding the pack out for you. you grab one and giggle.

you place it in between your lips and he lights it up with his lighter. you inhale and hold it for a second. then exhaling.

feeling a bit more calm already.

“Im sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten violent” Rafe apologizes.

“I started it” You giggle.

“True but I hurt you” Rafe laughs.

You inhale it once again “Wanna have some fun?” You ask as smoke exits your mouth.

“The day I say no. Kill me” He jokes.

“Im gonna finish this. Go get ready” You grin.

He bites his lip then walks away shaking his head and chuckling.

Once your finished your cigarette you go back into your house.

So much couldn’t have saved you from that night.