#─── clove writes

[clovenly]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; romantic dialogue + actions, part one!

001. romantic dialogue

‘i love you’

‘you complete me’

‘i think we’re destined to be together’

‘meeting you was the best thing to happen to me’

‘i’ve never felt this way about anyone else’

‘i wish we could live in this moment forever’

‘i want to wake up every morning with you next to me’

‘i hope you know just how much i care about you’

‘i’ve been falling in love with you since the day we met’

‘i want to spend the rest of my life with you’

‘you look so pretty when you smile’

‘i could waste a thousand lives staring into your eyes’

‘i want to spend the rest of my life with you’

‘not a day goes by where i don’t think of you’

‘oh you’re cold? here, take my jacket’

002. romantic actions

[ BRUSH. ] person a brushes over person b’s cheekbone.

[ CUP. ] person a gently cups person b’s jaw.

[ DANCE. ] person a and person b slowly dance together.

[ EMBRACE. ] person a holds person b against their chest.

[ ENTWINE. ] person a and person b’s fingers tangle together.

[ FLIRT. ] person a not so subtly flirts with person b.

[ FLOWERS. ] person a presents person b with flowers.

[ KISS. ] person a and b share a kiss.

[ LOVE. ] person a and b share their first ‘i love you’.

[ WRAP. ] person a drapes their arm across person b’s shoulder.

[vampirehizzies]

the cato to annie pipeline is still real to me btw and something i think about because katniss is here thinking about both of them like "wow they are mentally ill" except she's legitimately scared of one and sees the other as docile/meek/an extension of her boyfriend/odd/non-threatening.

but what katniss doesn't seem to remember is annie came from a career district so not only could annie have easily been (and probably was) raised with a similar rhetoric/propaganda/mindset as cato but she also could have terrified the other kids in her arena the same way he did. they became trained killers but they're both exposed to the harsh realities of the arena, watch someone they care about die in a horrifically violent way, and lose themselves/their minds/what they were raised to believe in because of it

[regularbeans]

[ ✨ IMBUED by Helyna L. Clove is out today ✨]

The first in a new dark fantasy duology is out today in, lots of places!

My best friend and light of my life, my sister's second novel EVER is publishing TODAY. And she didn't ask me but I'm doing my part in letting people know about it because I love her, and she's mad talented.

“Magic was always going to be my downfall.”

Calla has no memories of her childhood except for hazy, recurring nightmares. Working as a servant in Kiriong, the picturesque terrace garden home to one of the most influential families in the Kamphua Dominion, she’s content to live a simple life. As long as no one finds out about the forbidden magic stirring under her skin. When the estranged family heir, Gray—a magehunter in servitude of the royal hold—unexpectedly returns home, Calla’s secret threatens to surface. Instead of turning her in, however, Gray offers her the one thing she always feared: to teach her how to use her powers. And as the turbulent tides of long-forgotten magic draw them together, Calla finds it harder and harder to deny her potential. But Gray knows more than what he admits. In the aftermath of a vile political plot targeting him and with the shadow of a mage uprising cast upon the land, finding out what happened to Calla in her forgotten years might be their only chance to survive. Except the knowledge could break them both.

It could break the world.

>>> Check it out here <<<

More from the author

[art-missy]

The very first time Clove faced death, you both were children. They did not understand what was happening. One instant they were falling from the tree they were playing in, the next, they were in that strange and desert place. They felt lost and scared but then, you appeared and comforted them.

"It's your first time here right ?" you had ask. "It's the first time I see someone else here."

You showed them the way out and they woke up in a hospital bed. When they told their parents what had happened, they were faced with wide opened eyes.

"My child, you must have faced an angel."

The second time they faced death, they were a bit older and had been the victim of a hit-and-run. They appeared in that strange place again and you were sat on the edge of a ravine, your legs dangling in the void. They joined you and when you noticed their presence, you smiled widely at them.

"I thought I'd never see you again," you had said. "It gets easily lonely, here."

"Are you an angel ?" they asked.

Your eyes had widened at their words before a bursting laugh escaped your throat. You didn't give them an answer, though. You just offered them to walk through the path of awakening together. Clove had often wondered who you were. But they were glad they met you. Discovering their immortality had been less overwhelming thanks to you.

The third time Clove faced death, you were not there. But they had not felt lonely for long when they discovered a comical version of yourself drawn by you on a wall and several arrows showing them the way out.

Facing death was now a thrilling habit for Clove, and meeting you on the liminal space between life and death had become a normal stroll for them. You literally saw each other growing up. They often wondered what was happening in your life for you to often be there, but never dared to ask.

And then, after they joined Valorant, you stopped taking the path of awakening with them. You entertained them until they woke up, but never woke yourself up. You could, but you did not want to. So one day, they purposefully joined you in the liminal space and were welcomed by your smile.

"Why ?" they just asked.

Your smile immediately dropped as well as your shoulders as you just sat down.

"Let's just say I put my immortality on hold," you shrugged as you carelessly shot in a pebble.

"Why ?" they repeated.

"Breathing is not leaving."

They sat down beside you and grabbed your hand, a new determination burning in their eyes.

"Tell me where I can find you," they said. "So I can give you a reason for your immortality."

Your eyes widened at their words and you looked at them as if a second head grew on their shoulder.

"What ?"

"Join me. Join Valorant," they insisted.

Their determination burned your resolve. You flinched and told them where you were before they encouraged you on the path of awakening.

"I promise I'll come get you," were the last words you heard before waking up.

You quickly forgot those words but never these burning blue eyes. But you quickly remembered when a few days later, you recognized them, waving at you as an aircraft descended from the sky. It was the first time you two met outside of the liminal space. They quickly jumped off the aircraft to jump in your arms as their teammates slowly followed behind. You held them tightly, as if to make sure they were real and they did the same.

"I told you I'd get you," they murmured in your ear. "Come with me, with us."

They cupped your face and looked at you closely.

"Clove," someone called — a girl with striking blue hair —. "Who is it ?"

Their eyes did not leave yours as they answered.

"My angel."

Question : can this be considered angsty ?

[artificial-radiance]

"You're on a path through the woods. And at the beginning of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin - until very recently - is where you lay trapped. You have to escape. If you don't, it will be the end of your future."

The Narrator: You are in a cabin in the woods. Also within those woods is a monster, and if you meet it, it will kill you. You want to leave this place, and your only chance is to avoid it, though it will inevitably find you.

The Narrator: Stepping outside, you will find a path. It is the only thing that will lead you to the end you seek.

..

The Narrator: In the basement, you have made your bedroom. Within are bare essentials: your bed, a table beside your bed, and the only tool you've ever needed but hardly touched -- a pristine blade.

[thefloatingwriter]

Trick or treat :)

for this ask game!!

for my favorite clove stan, here’s a clato moodboard 💗

cato hadley and clove kentwell, the district two tributes for the 74th hunger games

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

Just some thoughts on Clover

This kid, despite their name, was never lucky. They lived in poor, cramped conditions and were probably neglected and forced to grow up too fast, too. Even when they thought "hey I wonder how everyone up there's doing," the other part of them has "moved on."

All signs point to a bad life, or at least one that Clover found unsastisfying.

Then they climbed this dangerous mountain to deliver justice, to do something useful for once, to prove that they can be a hero, something more than they were (doesn't this remind you of a certain star monster?)

Starlo is this child's father you can't convince me he isn't

Did things change in the underground? Nope. They were literally killed who knows how many times before Flowey messed with the switch, and even on the pacifist route, the kid got beaten to the ground, tricked, attacked, discriminated against, used and insulted, yet they STILL always found it in their little yellow heart to look for the good hidden behind the 'bad sides' of these monsters, who became their family. And this underground, this messed up place, became their home. A home that they cared about so much they decided to lay their life down for it. For everyone they've come to love. Because Clover finally realized the truth: vengeance will only spread more hate, but through kindness and forgiveness, we can move past our mistakes and become better versions of ourselves. THAT in itself is the true meaning of justice. Giving others the opportunity to grow, to change, to improve, to live, to love. Even Star himself said it:

Clover was never meant to survive. But they did live and went out with no regrets and only the friends they made along the way on their mind.

They may not have been "lucky," but they brought luck to so many.

[outtheoiseaux]

My favorite freaky lesbian girlfriends

[goodluckclove]

Why Are You a Writer?

So the other day I did the second of my Writer's Refuge interview series, soon to be posted later this week. It went pretty well! It was with an artist on here I admire a lot and it was a really interesting conversation.

Perhaps even too interesting. We got onto the topic on why a person would tell stories, and their answer ended up being drastically different than mine. It ended up sending my on a little bit of a spiral (No fault of yours if you read this, Cass), but I didn't really talk about it with her at the time. You know, it's an interview. It's not about me.

My instinct when I'm feeling emotionally vulnerable is to sort of hide away most of the time, but it's a sleepy day in the Gardener household and I think it might help me to talk about it. So below the read more I'm going to get deeper into the question often asked to people in my trade: why are you a writer?

Spoiler alert: it's because I'm lonely.

No real gravitas or dramatics there, I don't think. Little actual literary merit. I've heard people say that they're writers because they're overtaken by stories, just a vessel to the act of creation that can't help but craft narratives. I think that's cool in theory, and it's something I relate to, but I also think it's a mind type that doesn't exist in a vacuum.

I grew up a child of addicts with about a five and eight-year age gap between me and the rest of my siblings. We were conditioned to be deeply loyal to each other and care in the way our parents couldn't care for us, but most of the time my siblings didn't want to play with me. My parents didn't want to play with me. I had a few friends at school, but not many of them were able to hang out with me outside of campus for one reason or another. Throughout my developmental years I spent a majority of my time on my own, just figuring out different ways to entertain myself.

And I felt a fundamental other-ing from the rest of the people around me. I was precocious, considered "mature for my age" (a poison adults have been feeding the youth for generations), but it went deeper than that. I would speak quickly to my peers, joking almost frantically without letting them get a word in edgewise. It felt like they all knew a common language I was never able to learn and never could. At one point in middle school I told myself I was better than them. i don't think that anymore. Now I'm just confused.

As an adult I'm often confused by other people, sometimes to the point of fear. I struggle to stay afloat in large social situations, to look charming and keep the other person placated and talking, making sure they don't realize the fundamental truth that I'm not supposed to be there. Sometimes it gets to the point where I'm so exhausted that I physically can't look at human faces for hours afterwards. They all look like fleshy slugs.

Does that make sense? I say that a lot in conversation with those around me, a constant plea for validation. Am I making sense?

So I write. I write a lot. With no other line of work at the moment I've been writing about 60k words every month for the better part of the last year. And I do it to tell a story I'm passionate about, sure. I do it to process emotional ghosts from my past. But if I'm being honest with myself I know I write to create a connection between myself and the audience. To create a story that someone can read or watch and say "I understand", even if their interpretation is different than my own.

I do it because I'm lonely. And I'm not really proud of that. But it's the truth.

Riley was surprised when I told them this. So are you saying that if you were happy you wouldn't be a writer? They asked. Well, I am happy. I'm also lonely. These two things can exist at once.

But if I had a different life. A more functional family system that would've likely resulted in me needing far less treatment than I currently do. If all that was the case then I might not see the need to be deeply embedded in my own head. The rest of the world might not come off as the threat it sometimes is. But then again, my life and my identity would be so drastically different that I don't really see the point in speculating.

Would I be a writer? Maybe. I don't know. I'd probably have other hobbies.

I don't usually like talking about myself like this. It feels indulgent. A little too skin-less for my tastes. But, as with anything else, maybe someone younger and in a similar state could read me talking in this way and feel an aspect of comfort. If one person does then that would be worth it. I'm glad I'm a writer and I think I'm a capable one. I'm also aware that being a capable writer doesn't necessarily mean you're also deeply neurotic, which is both a comfort and a small point of envy.

If you've read to this point - which, by the way, is an oddity of cosmic proportions to me, maybe reblog and speak a bit about how you became a writer. But maybe be a little honest with yourself. If it comes from a deep well of pain, that's meaningful. If you just want to create a powerful story that people can lose themselves in, that's also meaningful.

You don't need to suffer to be a good artist. That's absolutely not something I believe to any extent. I'm just one of the ones that did, and that's something I'm going to have to work out over the course of the next rest of my life.

I don't know. I'm rambling. Maybe it can be your turn to talk now.

[adrialae]

VALORANT Agent Popularity Contest

As a new returnee to the VALORANT fandom, I was astounded by the lack of Harbor - I had imagined he would be at least moderately popular, not down at the bottom. That's fixable, but it got me wondering, Just how unpopular is Harbor really?

I decided to use AO3 as a measure of fandom popularity because it's easily searchable. The total number of fics doesn't mean much, because some characters have been out for much longer, so I divided it by the number of days since each character's release to get the rate of fics per day. Without further ado, the list:

Neon - 1.1213 fics/day (1054 fics/940 days)

Sage - 1.1187 fics/day (1772 fics/1584 days)

Chamber - 1.1024 fics/day (1098 fics/996 days)

Yoru - 1.0729 fics/day (1399 fics/1304 days)

Fade - 0.9904 fics/day (826 fics/834 days)

Jett - 0.9495 fics/day (1504 fics/1584 days)

Killjoy - 0.9283 fics/day (1360 fics/1465 days)

Cypher - 0.9078 fics/day (1438 fics/1584 days)

Viper - 0.9066 fics/day (1436 fics/1584 days)

Phoenix - 0.8681 fics/day (1375 fics/1584 days)

Iso - 0.7943 fics/day (224 fics/282 days)

Sova - 0.7487 fics/day (1186 fics/1584 days)

Brimstone - 0.7431 fics/day (1177 fics/1584 days)

Gekko - 0.7327 fics/day (381 fics/520 days)

Reyna - 0.6891 fics/day (1053 fics/1528 days)

Deadlock - 0.6324 fics/day (258 fics/408 days)

Raze - 0.6321 fics/day (987 fics/1584 days)

Omen - 0.5859 fics/day (928 fics/1584 days)

Clove - 0.5259 fics/day (71 fics/135 days)

Skye - 0.5257 fics/day (726 fics/1381 days)

Breach - 0.3087 fics/day (489 fics/1584 days)

KAY/O - 0.2966 fics/day (339 fics/1143 days)

Astra - 0.2606 fics/day (327 fics/1255 days)

Harbor - 0.2545 fics/day (168 fics/660 days)

(Data collected 8/8/2024.)

It turns out, the answer to Just how unpopular is Harbor really? is that he is at the absolute bottom of the list (at least according to our narrow definition of popularity). This definition isn't perfect, but it's the best I can think of - if you have any suggestions let me know!

I also got information on the most popular ships and tags, which I will post as soon as I get them presentable. Spoiler: people are horny for Chamber.

Did this turn out how you thought it would? Who did you expect to be lower or higher? (Harbor aside, I was quite impressed that Sage has managed more than one fic per day on average for four years now.) I'm going to end this here because that Harbor fic isn't going to write itself. Let me know what you think!

[comradekarin]

this fic changed my fucking life guys…. i need to study this author’s brain. the characterization, the subplots, the slowburn development, the plot twist, the writing… SOMEONE READ IT SO WE CAN TALK ABOUT IT TOGETHER!!!

[clovenly]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; lyrical writing prompts, mitski, part one!

001. brand new city

'i think my heart is ready to die'

'i think my body is falling in pieces'

'honey, look at me'

'i think my fate is losing its patience'

'i think the ground is pulling me down'

'i think my life is losing momentum'

'i think my ways are wearing me down'

'if I gave up on being pretty i wouldn't know how to be alive'

002. bag of bones

'i'm all undone'

'i'm carrying my bag of bones'

'mercy on me'

'would you please spare me tonight?'

'would you let me let go?'

'i hope you leave right before the sun comes up'

'i can take a little bit more'

003. goodbye my danish sweetheart

'there's nobody better than you'

'would you spare me your voice if i call?'

'you waited and watered my heart 'til it grew'

'i don't blame you if you want to bury me in your memory'

'i'm not the girl i ought to be'

'there's some kind of burning inside me'

'would you just tell me what i'm meant to do?'

'i don't mean to make your heart blue'

'could we be what we're meant to be?'

'i'm just about to beg you, please'

004. i want you

'i want you'

'you're coming back'

'we're starting over'

'i love you, darling'

'i am done, dear'

'i just need a quiet place where i can scream how I love you'

[vampirehizzies]

guys "i can't be the one to stop you" is literally THE hizzie/lizzie episode of all time. lizzie in a hot vampire hunting outfit, stabbing "hope" (being possessed by aurora but whatever, semantics) in the hand at a ROMANTIC DINING LOCATION WITH A LITERAL ROSE IN BETWEEN THEM AND TWO REDWINE GLASSES? comparing the unhinged dynamic between two vampire exes to hope stealing her butterfly clip? and then her literally desperately stalling killing hope once she actually had the chance/ability to? and her little gay panic malfunction of "you're not gonna kill me hope!!" lizzie had it down so bad for hope this episode and they were so insane for it i love them

[catoslvt]

Cato Hadley x Reader

Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you.

Already together

Third person beginning.

Cato paces his room back and forth, unable to sleep, I mean, how could he? In a few days, he'll be going into the hunger games, but suddenly, an idea pops into his head he should go through to y/ns room to see if she's awake which is highly unlikely, everyone knows y/n could fall asleep anywhere and at any time.

Cato loves that about y/n, cato loves everything about y/n infact and she loves everything about him.

As cato presses the button, which opens the door to y/ns room, he has to hold back his laughter, for someone who's certainly not tall, she knows how to fill a big bed, laying diagonally with her arms and legs flung in every direction imaginable.

But catos eyes are quickly moved to the TV, which is showing interviews from past tributes of games.

As he slowly approaches y/ns bed, he looks at her face more carefully. It is now being lit up by blue colours as the district four interviews now begin to play, but her face doesn't move when he sits on her bed trying to stay as silent as he can because he doesn't want to wake her up.

He slowly sits down, biting his lip in fear of waking her up, and he lets out a small chuckle as it seems y/n has a cato sensor because the minute he sits on her bed she slowly wakes up.

Y/ns pov.

I let out a huge yawn as I rubbed my eyes and turned my head to the side to see the reason why my bed was dipping in only to see none other than cato sitting on my bed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." He apologises, and I shake my head and pull him down so he's lying beside me, which causes him to laugh.

"You didn't wake me." I argue and he raises an eyebrow at me.

"Then what did?" He quizzes, and I smile, unable to think of an answer because cato did wake me up.

"Are you nervous?" Cato asks as he wraps his arma around me, practically pulling me on top of him at this rate and my head rests in the crook of his neck.

"Of course I'm nervous." I tell him laughing.

"But why? We trained our full life for this." He then tells me, and I nod.

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't help me get over the fact I'll be dead soon." I state, and cato shakes his head as he begins to draw shapes with his finger over my back.

"You're not gonna die in the games y/n, I won't let you." He argues.

"But I don't want you to die either, cato. If it means you can live, then I don't care." I argue back, although im practically crying at the fact that one of us, or both of us, will be dead in like a week, maybe two weeks' time.

"Y/n, look at me." Cato whispers, and I slowly lean my head up to look at him, and he smiles at me, and I smile back, suddenly washed over by tiredness because of cato waking me up.

"I love you." He states, and I know he means it, cato can't lie to me, and I can't lie to him.

"I love you too." I state back as he kisses me, his hands still sitting gently on my back.

I kiss back before we both pull away, and I yawn.

"Goodnight, y/n." He laughs as I slump my head down on his chest and close my eyes.

"Goodnight, cato." I whisper.

[art-missy]

"You're writing fanfictions about us ?" you asked, your eyes widening in surprise.

Clove started to giggle like the maniacal pixie that they were as their fingers played with some random dice. You sat down on their bed as your eyes traveled on the words written in their notebook.

"So, what do you think ?" they asked, leaning towards you.

"I think that your imagination is somewhat frightening," you chuckled lightly and turned a page. "You even did illustrations !?"

Their smile only widened at your words as you admired their arts. The crazyness and passion baked onto these pages resulted in a chaotic and sparkly madness that was a beautiful representation of Clove's peculiar mind. The fact that they took the time to fill a complete notebook full of scenarios where the agents of the protocol were the main characters still baffled you. You were even among the pages living crazy adventures.

"Clove, darling, my dear Scottish stardust pixie," you sighed in a very dramatic way. "I don't know if I want to expose this in a museum or hide it from everyone's eyes."

"Well, I'm pretty sure Cypher already saw it," they hummed. "His eyes are literally everywhere."

Clove leaned a bit closer to you, the mischief in their eyes sparkling like lost stars bathing in an ancient ocean.

"The reason I showed you this is because I wanted to live a scenario that I wrote about us two."

"Hm ?" your eyebrows raised slightly. "Which one ?"

They bit their lower lip to silent their laughter as they turned the pages of the notebook. Your eyes then fell on the scenario they meant. As your read the lines, your eyes widened and your face flushed. Maniacal butterflies took ownership of your stomach and time released your brain from its hold. Your voice was stolen from you as your astounded gaze fell on a very graphic illustration of Clove and you.

"Damn," you murmured after a moment of silence.

Their nose scrunched in mirth at your loudly silent flusteredness. They mentally took a picture of your face to redraw it later.

"So ? What do you say ?"

[artificial-radiance]

I have been plotting and writing instead of drawing for this au, whoops

Plain Text:

Chapter 1: The Runaway and the Warden

You are in a cabin on a hill. From your cabin is a path through the woods, and within those woods is your monstrous warden. You are escaping, and avoiding him is your best course of action.

You are currently in the basement, which is sparsely decorated, save for a window above your orderly bed, a small table on your bedside, and a staircase leading up to the main room of the cabin and, subsequently, the way out.

`[A]` -- *(Explore)* What do you mean by monstrous..?

`[B]` -- *(Explore)* Why would I even be kept here? What do I need a warden for?

`[C]` -- *(Explore)* Why should I avoid him?

`[D]` -- *(Explore)* I should probably be prepared for something like this.

`[E]` -- *(Explore)* The basement, really? What am I, a jobless young adult living with their parents?

`[F]` -- Oh, thanks for the recap *[Go up the stairs]*

`[G]` -- Guess I should just go then? *[Go up the stairs]*

`[H]` -- *[Quietly go up the stairs]*

`[I]` -- I mean, I could always just stay put? No harm in that. *[Stay put]*