#grandpa cato

[twilifate]

Doodle from weeeks ago, which this little weetle boy…. Raised by his ventrexian grandpa after he was estranged from his mother Kai

So yeah his father is dead but a piece of him is till his heart

Tangerine (c) Me (Twilifate/xthaliax) & @gisellestoons

[catos-wound]

side note athenodoros being included is so funny. wasn't he like a geriatric when cato found him

[alavestineneas]

Home

pairing: catohadley x fem!reder

summary: He doesn't know why her flower dress comes to mind—it's a contrast to the hard truth of reality. He lost a friend here, but Cato would need to learn how to lose much more if he wanted to get the hell out of here. And he does, no matter the price. warnings: canon-typical violence; mentions of meat (as in reader owns a butcher shop); trauma and poverty word count: 6k

author's note: hello beautiful people! In honour of my birthday, I am posting about this bad boy today. Hope you like it - it was such a fun thing to write! Enjoy!

The stones under his worn boots are changing quickly; they are coloured in all shades of grey, sometimes with funny black dots on their rounded bellies. Cato would stop and collect a few if it wasn't for the important task at hand: Mom sent him to the butcher's, letting him take the thinly metaled coins for the first time, which are now snugly stored in the pockets of his raggy coat. He has the order memorized; Mom always buys the same. Three pig legs for the soup, which are then added to the porridge she cooks, and two bottles of the cheapest milk on the counter. It's good for the bones in his body, she says, and Cato believes her. Soon, he will start school; he has to be strong to get the chance to try out for the academy.

The butcher's is just around the corner; it's the only shop in their block that is always open. And, although the signboard is already faded, it is still his favourite place to visit. The door opens with a creek, and a small bell over Cato's head sings its cheerful melody. He takes a few steps inside, the colourful counters greeting him with all kinds of meat and sausages. He reads the curved writing on each of the signs carefully, trying out the way the letters come together in words. The sound of rushed steps is the only thing that breaks his mesmerization. They are soon changed by the grunting of the wood chair on the old tiled floor, and then, finally, a head pops up from behind the stands.

''Good afternoon!'' A pair of curious eyes stare at him, a smile missing a few teeth serving as a second greeting. ''What can I do for you today?'' the girl asks, changing her cheerful demeanour to a more serious, business-like tone.

Cato straightens up, his fingers finding the coins. He is a grown-up now; no other four-year-old he knows is allowed to go to the butcher's by themselves. ''I am here to buy meat.''

The girl laughs, her hair shaking with her mirth.

Cato feels the redness creep to his ears—of course, he is here to buy meat; everyone does. ''Why are you behind there anyway?'' he mutters, crossing his hands in front of himself. He thinks the girl should stop now; it's really not nice to laugh at others.

''Grandpa went to trade for bread and left me as the captain here,'' the girl boasts.

''That's a shame.'' Partly because Cato liked Grandpa Marc—he always sneaked a few pieces of candy for him and his brothers at home—and partly because he didn't like the little know-it-all. ''I would like three pig legs and two bottles of the cheapest milk,'' he declares in one breath, careful not to mess up. He isn't sure he can take another wave of her laughter.

''Sure,'' the girl nods, packing the meat in a big brown bag. Cato patiently waits as she moves her chair to reach the milk shelves, stopping before them. ''Which one again?''

''Shirley's.''

The girl doesn't move; the flowers on the back of her dress are still facing him.

''Shirley's,'' he repeats a little louder. Cato feels silly again; he doesn't like the mean girl and the way she teases him. ''Are you stupid? The one with the blue cap is Shirley's.''

''Right,'' she finally grabs it, moving to the register. Her hands work quickly, wrapping the goods and putting them together. ''The meat is this much money, '' she scrambles the numbers on the piece of paper lying nearby, ''and milk is this much.''

Cato goes over the symbols, carefully counting the total in his head. ''Here,'' he says, reaching for the money. ''And you wrote the two here wrong—it should be facing the other way, like a swan.''

''Oh. Sorry about that. Is this with change?'' She points to the colourful coins on the wood.

''Don't you know how to count? You need to give me 50 cents in change.''

''I do!'' she argues, her hand slapping the counter. ''I was just, hm, testing you!''

''Sure. Then why are you giving me two dollars back now?'' Cato raises an eyebrow. Part of him wants to laugh at her, just like she did moments ago. But he doesn't. Instead, he swaps the coins for the right amount, giving her the money back. ''Here you go. All good.''

''Thank you! Have a nice day!''

Cato nods, grabbing the bag and exiting the shop with a light heart. He did what his mom asked him to; she will be very happy to know that. The air is warm, and the soft wind is hitting him right in the face. In no time, Cato is home; the door is never locked. He places the bag on the kitchen table; Mom will see it when she puts the baby to sleep. His third brother - the other two are sleeping on the big bed in the children's room. That used to be his, but now he is a big boy—he sleeps on the couch in the living room, right near the kitchen. He likes it here; the baby's crying is not as loud, and he can see Mom as often as he wants to when she cooks.

There's not much to do right now; it's the ''quiet hours'' in Hadley's house. Usually, Cato would go play outside at this time, but instead, he grabbed the big book from the kids' shelf. There, with big, red letters, are all of the alphabets and numbers. It was his favourite. Cato remembers how mom would sit with him on her lap, her soft finger circling every picture. ''This is one. Look, it has a tiny nose, just like you do! Here, give me your hand—that's one finger you have, little gentleman!''

Cato throws one last glance at the closed door to the parent's room—he decides that mom won't be mad at him if he plays not in front of the house for once—and grabs the book, leaving the still place. This time, he grabs a few of the prettiest rocks on his way—he builds bridges and castles with them in the small creek behind their house. The butcher's is still empty when he gets there; the girl sits on the tall chair, drawing on the paper.

''What are you drawing?'' Cato asks, trying to see, but the counter is too tall for him to reach.

The girl doesn't look surprised to see him here; it's like he never left in the first place. ''It's worms. Papa worm, mama worm, and little worm. They are having dinner.''

''What are they eating? Meat?''

''No,'' she said, shaking her head. ''Meat is expensive; they have no money. They're eating a dirt pie. Here,'' the girl climbs off the chair, sitting down on the floor instead. Cato sits down near her, looking over her shoulder. ''They have small plates and spoons.''

''My dad doesn't like pies. He likes potatoes more.'' Cato thinks meat is better than pies and potatoes, but he doesn't tell Dad that. The girl tells the truth: meat is expensive.

''Where is he? At work?''

''Yeah, at the factory.'' Most people work at the factory—that's what Cato's dad says. They go when it's dark outside and Cato is still sleeping, and they return when the clock shows all zeros. Then, his dad eats while his mom drinks tea, and they whisper about something. ''And yours?''

The girl shrugs. ''I don't have one. It's just Grandpa and me. What is this?'' She points to the book in Cato's hands, and he finally remembers why he came.

''That's my book. It has numbers. Do you want to see?''

The girl beside him nods, and Cato smiles. He opens the book and proudly shows off the beautiful pictures. The girl likes them; she listens carefully to what Cato has to say about each letter. He likes it when he doesn't laugh at him.

-

''Good morning, Grandpa Marc!'' Cato greets the man behind the counter, cutting up yet another piece of meat. It's early, but he already stands in the butcher's, his dad's old bag on his shoulder. They can't be late for the academy.

''I'm coming, I'm coming!'' YN shouts, biting into the apple in one of her hands and tucking in her shirt with the other. ''Bye, Pa, see you!''

They both passed the exam for the academy; only four people from their neighbourhood did. They got the chance only because they were ''exceptional'' students, the only four whose training was free for now. The debt will be paid by them volunteering or after the academy through their future salaries. Cato knows that no one is actually able to pay it off; he will volunteer as soon as possible. YN will go; they agreed to go in different years.

That's how it always was with them—they walked to the academy and home together, trained, and learned together. Cato helped Grandpa in the shop, and YN often looked after his brothers. It was the endless stream of jokes from everyone around—you never saw one without the other, not even on the rating board. That was until year nine.

''I decided I'm not going to sit with you at lunch,'' Cato tells the girl walking beside him on the dusty road.

YN doesn't answer right away; she watches her feet instead. ''Let me guess—you will be with the mayor's son and his pack?''

''As a matter of fact, yes. They are my friends, and they invited me to sit with them.'' It annoys him the tone she is using.

''They are not your friends, Cato. They only do that, so you will volunteer for them when the time comes.'' YN is angry; her hands on the straps of the backpack are tightly clenched.

''So what? I'm going to volunteer anyway, so why not sit with them? There is nothing to do here, and they are always hanging out at movies or something.''

''Oh, so that's what it is about.'' YN stops, turning to him. ''You want to be one of them now.''

''Of course, I fucking do!'' Cato exclaims. ''We are dirt poor, YN. I don't want to live all my life in this shithole.''

YN's face changes; her eyes look at him as if for the first time. ''This is home, Cato. This is where we belong.''

''I don't. And I will find a way out of here, and you can stay in this mud as much as you like, but I will not let you drag me down with you.''

She slaps him. The hit is heavy; they are both trained to take blows, but it stings him more than it should. Cato watches as YN leaves, her quick steps echoing on the empty street in the morning fog. He doesn't know why her flower dress comes to mind—it's a contrast to the hard truth of reality. He lost a friend here, but Cato would need to learn how to lose much more if he wanted to get the hell out of here. And he does, no matter the price.

-

YN can live without him as much as he does, she tells herself. She didn't decide to ruin the friendship, so she won't be the one to apologize, no matter how long the silence lasts. If he thinks that she will run back to him after four months of not talking, he is wrong. YN is fine; she still has two friends at the academy, she still has her grandpa and the beautiful sun above her head. It smiles at her every time she walks home alone, filling in the small gap in her chest with its golden rays. Her new companion.

What she doesn't expect is a group of people in front of the shop; they shout and argue, running around with ice and water in their hands. YN runs too; something happens. Fear rises in her stomach and travels to her throat when she sees the white coat of the doctor standing near the counter, a concerned expression on his face. ''I'm sorry,'' he tells her. YN clutches her bag, trying so hard not to cry as the crowd of familiar faces surrounds her.

He fell while trying to reach for the shelf, and a customer found him unconscious on the floor. Grandpa broke seven bones in his body and damaged his head. They are taking him to the hospital for, god knows, how long. The doctor places a hand on her shoulder; the cost of surgery is covered by the state, but she needs money for the medicine. They don't have any.

YN spends an hour crying into her pillow before pulling herself together—she is alone. It's not some stupid game they play—they pretend to win for years in the generated arenas in some big green boxes—it's life. The most brutal arena of all. So, she does what any fifteen-year-old would do—she washes her face with ice-cold water and grabs the keys from the shop. She has to speak with a few people.

-

The door to Hadley's home is never locked; nobody closes it in their neighbourhood, but YN still knocks out of respect. Cato opens it; she is surprised he is here and not with his new friends. He wants to say something, but YN has no time for him.

''Is your dad home?'' YN asks, trying to look over his shoulder.

Cato nods. ''Come in. Mom, it's YN.'' He shouts, closing the door behind her.

''Ah, YN. How is Grandpa Marc?'' She is cooking something—a big pot boiling with the best smell one could imagine.

The woman's concerned face stirs something in YN, so she fights the urge to cry and swallows her tears instead. ''Alive

''Come sit with us; we were just preparing to eat.''

YN wants nothing more than a plate of something warm, but she declines. She came here not to lessen the portion of someone; nobody here has money to make extra food. ''Thank you, but I need to speak with Mister Janus.''

''Spill it.'' Mr. Janus nods, standing up from the couch.

''Can we speak outside?'' YN asks, feeling a pair of blue eyes on her.

''Of course,'' Mister Janus shares a look with his wife before stepping outside. ''What happened, kid?''

YN takes some air inside her lungs. ''Is there a place for me at the factory for the night shifts?'' The man opens his mouth to argue, but YN is quicker. ''I know I am young, but I am strong from all the training, and I know a lot of useful things. I can reach where most men can't, and I will do anything you ask me to, I promise.''

Mister Janus sighed. ''I know you are good, but what about the academy? Night shift is six to six; you won't have time to get enough sleep and do the homework.''

''I quit the academy.''

''What?'' Mister Janus's face changes. ''YN, why? It's the only chance for you to survive.''

''Work is the only way for me to survive. Poverty and an empty stomach will kill me much faster than some games. I need the job, Mister Janus, please. If you don't give it to me, I will look for it elsewhere.''

The man thinks, his forehead creased with worry. ''Fine, kid. But be careful—get enough rest and don't push yourself too hard. We are here to help if you need us to.''

''Thank you, thank you so much!'' YN smiles, a few tears escaping her eyes. She hugs the man tightly, a glimmer of hope finally appearing. ''Thank you, Mister Janus; I will not let you down!''

Mistes Janus smiles back, patting her back. ''Go before it gets too dark; I'll see you tomorrow at five thirty.''

He watches as YN turns the corner of the street before returning to the warmth of his house. How much do these kids have to endure in this world?

-

YN didn't push herself too hard; she simply did what she was supposed to do. At six, she returned to the shop after the shift at the factory—butcher's opened at eight—so she had two hours to wash the dirt and sweat away with the old basin and a little warm water from the kettle and to master something edible on the stove. When that was done, she would dissect the meat and check the dates on milk bottles; the soon-gone bad would go to the sale section, and the new ones took their place. Then, the doors of the butcher's opened—people still needed to eat, and YN wasn't about to let them starve because of her own ''tiredness.''

The heaviest flow was in the morning, with the shop becoming quieter in the afternoon—that's when she took most of her sleep in, resting her head on the wooden counter and closing her eyes for a second. Oftentimes, customers would find her like this—they gently shook her shoulder and woke her up before ordering. Each time, YN felt shame creep to her cheeks, but each time, no one said a word to her; they just smiled, thanked her, and left the shop with a big brown bag in her hands.

That's how the rest of the year passed, with it becoming slightly easier when Grandpa was finally discharged from the hospital. His right arm didn't move like it used to, and it was hard for him to walk, but it was still better to have someone home to return to. Besides, he insisted on still serving the customers, so YN had an opportunity to sleep in her own bed for a few hours before a new portion of cut meat was delivered.

That's what she thought about standing in the main square in a crowd of children—how much meat she needed to cut before her shift. Grandpa was also here; some man had to hold him up so he wouldn't fall from being on his legs for too long, but he could at least enjoy the fresh air, which YN was grateful about.

The reaping was going quickly; the girl named was from the academy, so they didn't have to go through all that volunteering. YN didn't know her personally, but she saw her a couple of times; she was good with knives. As for the boys, it didn't go as smoothly—some poor eleven-year-old's name was called out, and he burst out crying on the spot.

''I volunteer!'' the voice boomed through the street, and YN turned with everyone to see who it was, although, in her head, she knew the answer.

Cato. He walked to the stage calmly, his legs conquering the steps in no time. He looked determined and happy, but YN knew better—that's what they taught them to present. Ruthless. Bloodthirsty. Killers. She hears distant cries from the crowd behind her—it's probably Miss Hadley. YN clenches her jaw, her teeth grinding together until her head rings. It isn't the time for her to break.

-

Cato can't bear to watch his mother's puffy face as she clenches her arms around him, whispering something like a prayer into his chest. His father is silent, a lonely tear escaping his eye as he holds Cato's youngest brother closer. The twins are also here; both of them are at the academy, so they have a faint idea of what he is doing. They tell him he will win because of how big he is, and that will be very easy. Cato smiles at them reassuringly—if only it were that easy.

''Dad,'' he nods in the direction of his crying mother.

''Come on, darling, you will upset him before the games,'' his father tells her, carefully pulling her way and placing a hand on Cato's shoulder. ''Stay strong, my boy. We will all be rooting for you every second you are in that arena; don't forget that.''

''Thank you, dad. Boys,'' he watches as twins show each other away, trying to get to bed first. He hugs them both; he has two hands for a reason. ''Behave and don't bother mom too much, or I'll have to kick your ass once I get back,'' he whispers into their heads.

The youngest one waves goodbye, blowing him a kiss. Cato smiles, watching his family leave the room. He wants to remember this moment forever, to put it in his pocket, and to never let it go. He knows why he is doing this—for them to have a better chance at life, for his father to finally have a day off, and for his mom to have new pots she secretly gazed at when she thought he wasn't looking.

''Hadley. Seven minutes.'' The peacekeeper announces, opening the door once more, even though Cato doesn't expect anyone else. Well, he hoped she would come—he really wanted her to—but he believed she never would. YN is not the type. Still, she is here. Closing the door behind her, in a simple blue jumpsuit and a nice scarf around her head.

''Hi,'' she nods. ''I came to say goodbye.''

Cato's heart skips a beat—those words hit harder than seeing himself on the big screens, with a tribute written under them. Soon, he may be dead; she will watch him on her small TV in the living room.

YN speaks quickly, almost in a rush. ''I know we don't speak anymore, but I know how you fight—you are capable of winning more than everyone else out there. Please, just don't think too much about what you are doing; just do it, okay?''

''Yeah, I'll try.'' He finds it weird that she doesn't want him to think, but Cato doesn't question why—she does know him better than anyone, having been training for a lot of years side by side.

''You have to return; your family needs you.''

''Don't worry too much about them; we already got the money for my volunteering from the mayor. They will be fine; dad can still work, and twins could help out. You have enough on your shoulders as it is. How is Grandpa Marc?''

''Better. He can't move like he used to and still needs help with walking and eating, but other than that, it's good. Although he is devastated that I didn't let him handle the meat, you should've seen how he tried to sneak a few knives at night.''

Cato's lips turn into a smile. ''That does sound like him.''

''Oh, I almost forgot. Here,'' YN rumbles in her pockets before taking a few pieces of candy out. ''We thought you should have a few.''

''You are kidding me? Lucky-talkies? I haven't had one in ages!''

YN laughs at his excitement, carefully placing the sweets in his hand. ''I know. They are as hard as they used to be; don't chip your tooth; it'll look bad at the promotion.''

Cato chuckles, pocketing the candy before his mentors have a chance to take it away. ''Thanks, YN. For everything.''

''I'll give you as much as you want if you don't die in there. Just try to stay alive, okay?''

''Easier said than done. But I'll try.''

YN smiles. Their time is up. The peacekeeper opens the door for her, his gun tangling dangerously around his neck. She doesn't turn around as she exits; her walk is steady. Cato thinks that he caught her shoulders shaking, but it could be just a twist of his tired brain.

-

The days after that are agony. YN doesn't know if it was her tiredness that finally caught her in a narrow corner or the grim reality of her life—it was definitely both. Even her favourite silent friend didn't cheer her up like it used to—the sun shone almost violently, burning her skin and leaving her body dizzy. The rotten cycle was now worsened by the non-stopping playing of what seemed to be a thousand screens, with stomach-curling screams echoing from time to time. They were everywhere—at the shop and their small flat above it, on the main square she passed each day, and, what was worse, they were at the factory, where she couldn't pretend to watch even for a second.

The work she does is heavy—carving the stones on the machinery bigger than her; her muscles were constantly aching, begging for a break. The suit she wore was too tight and too hot, and the annoying voice of the announcer blared through the speakers, stealing the air in her lungs. YN wanted nothing but to make it stop—for the world to go silent and still, even if just for a moment. But wonders didn't happen with people like her, so she continued to work, pushing herself through her gritted teeth.

''Welcome, welcome to what seems to be the last day in this beautiful arena!'' The blue-haired man spoke, his accent making YN's head hurt even more. ''To remind our dear viewers all across the Panem, here is a small recap from my colleague and sometimes friend, Claudius.''

''Thank you, Caesar. We are left with only three tributes on day eighteen—the first, of course, being Cato from District 2. His strategy has proved efficient so far; no doubt, he is one of the best contestants we've seen in a long time. And then, much to my surprise, a pair of tributes from District 12 are still in the games—their love story truly captivated the audience. Let's see what this day, or should we say night, brings us today and who will have the odds in their favour in the end.''

YN doesn't react to their comments; it feels wrong to compare herself to the kids out there, being selfish enough to think she deserves a break. She should be counting her lucky stars; it isn't her there, going through the bodies of the competitors one by one. Cato received body armour from the sponsors; that was good. He also lost his district partner; YN remembers her now; she was in his ''new'' friend group. She feels sorry for the girl; her death was awful, and her screaming Cato's name will forever be engraved in YN's memory.

''Aha, here he is! Our gladiator from District 2—he is running from—what's that?—wolves! Look at that speed—he surely is a good runner!''

YN turns her attention to the giant screen—surely enough, Cato is running from some monstrous creatures. He is bloodied; his skin is covered in bruises. YN prays it all will stop soon and he will get home safe. He doesn't even flinch when the arrow shot by twelve hits his chest; he just keeps running towards the Cornucopia.

''Please,'' YN whispers. He can't die, not when he has survived for so long.

''Look at them—all of the tributes managed to get on the Cornucopia just in time! Oh, here is a clever move from Cato's side: having Peeta in a headlock is a classic move. Now, he is sort of a ''human shield''. Brilliant!''

"Go on, shoot.'' Cato's voice booms through the speakers, sending shivers down YN's back. She missed hearing his voice, but it didn't even sound like him anymore. Like a stranger talking from the inside of what looked like her friend. '' And we both go down, and you win. Go on. I'm dead, anyway! I always was, right? I didn't know that until now. Isn't that what they want, huh?''

What the fuck was he doing? YN's mind raced—why won't he just kill him and get it over with? She doesn't notice how her hands begin to shake and how everyone else in the room seems to be eyeing her.

''No! I can still do this. I can still do this. One more kill. It's the only thing I know how to do. Bring pride to my district. Not that it matters."

''Kill him! For fuck's sake, just kill him!'' YN stands up, her nerves getting the best of her. Her voice echoes—she didn't mean to say it out loud.

''No talking!'' The peacekeeper in front of her shouts, his hand steady on the gun.

YN turns to face him slowly. Who was he to tell her to shut up when it was her friend who was dying right before her eyes? She feels her hands clench into fists; she will be able to take him down in a fight, maybe even kill him. YN was willing to try, at least.

''She won't talk no more,'' one of the older men in the group mutters, his voice bitter. ''Sit down, child.''

YN wants to argue, wants to scream or run until the bullet catches up to her, but she doesn't. What use would her dead body be to her grandpa? So she sits down, biting her cheek until her mouth fills with a familiar iron taste. Everything she wants to say, she tastes in her throat instead.

''Wait, can we zoom in on here?'' One of the announcers asks. ''Here, yes, what exactly are they staring at? It fell from Cato's pocket, right?''

'''Well, Claudius, it looks like a candy wrap to me. The real question is: why does Cato have one in the first place? He didn't strike me as a big sweets fan. ''

''Well, whatever it is, it seems to have changed his mind—look at how masterfully he throws Peeta down, like a feather! Oh, and now he is lurching for the girl on fire!''

A loud snap is heard through the speakers, and the girl falls, lifeless. YN covers her face with her hands, the dirt from them leaving a mark on her sweaty face. A choir of relieved exhales rings through the room.

''Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have our 75th victor!''

- 

It's hard, the first thing Cato realizes. Being here, breathing in the air that feels like spikes inside his lungs—everything was supposed to be easy, but it's so far from that. They have a nice house now; it has a room for each of his brothers, and even twins don't have to share anymore. His dad doesn't work; it's not fitting for victor's family to do so, so he takes up gardening instead. If a few years ago Cato heard that his father would ramble about how badly roses had grown on this soil, he would've checked himself into a mental asylum.

He isn't very loved in the Capitol, but his mentors said it was for the best. Cato believes them, but it stings a little. He wanted glory but got disgusted instead. It was not a fair trade, but at least his debt is paid, as is his brothers'. Money could buy a lot of things, just like he predicted, but it couldn't buy him peace. Cato has nothing ahead of him; he can't study like his peers do, can't work, can't live, and pretend it didn't happen. It very much did—when he closes his eyes, he can still smell the blood on his hands.

That's why he is here instead of Victor's village, eating ice cream on the empty main square in the warm evening. It's funny to think how he wanted to try it, collecting the money his father let him have for almost a year before ordering his first chocolate scoop. It was the tastiest thing he had ever eaten; now, it tasted just like every other one.

He hears the nearing footsteps—the people are returning from the day shift in the factories. Cato nods to a few of them—old neighbours, parents of classmates, or dad's friends. The men are all different—short and tall, ginger, blond and brunette—but they all bear the same expression that Capitoleers called ''a district 2 glare'' once. Cato used to get angry when he heard it, but now his face is no different—the word is a heavy thing to endure.

His eyes drift to the only person looking up and not on the road ahead—of course, it's YN. She thinks about something only she and the sun know, her steps mirroring those of the people ahead. One of the men notices him watching; he gently shoves her shoulder, whispering something in her ear before pointing in the direction of his seat. Suddenly, Cato wants to hide the ice cream in his hand and run away, but he doesn't.

''Enjoying your victory, Mister Hadley?'' Her voice is loud and filled with teasing, and a few men snicker at them.

Cato isn't angry; he deserves it, quite frankly. ''Always was known for the sweet tooth,'' he shrugs. ''As a matter of fact, are you free any time soon?'' He asks when the crowd is far enough away.

YN raises an eyebrow at him. ''Why is that? You know I work.''

''I was hoping you and your grandpa could come by sometime. Mom is awfully lonely, and the boys would love to see you, too.''

She nods. ''I am free on Sunday, but Grandpa is still a little shy about eating in front of people.''

''I'll ask mom to cook a soup then—it's better?'' He would cook the damn soup himself if it meant seeing her for longer than five minutes. If it meant not being alone in that house, that reeked of the arena.

''Yes, I think we can do that. What about 12? We could be a little late with all that walking.''

''Thank you; it's perfect.''

YN smiles at him. For the first time since he won, someone smiled at him. Cato smiles back, although he is sure it comes out more as a grin. YN doesn't notice or pretends to do so.

- 

''Oh, come in! Janus, come right down; the guests are here!''

YN and her grandpa are greeted with Miss Hadley's voice, her warm hands wrapping first around her, and then the older man. YN smiles; she missed just sitting down for a meal without having to worry about how much money she was going to need for the next one. The boys have grown. They shout, each trying to be the first to show her their own rooms and the cool things they have. YN tries not to get lost in the maze of toys, balls, books, and a thousand other different things, while Grandpa talks with Mr. Janus.

When the boys start to embark on what feels like a fifth circle around the house, Miss Hadley puts an end to it. ''That's enough! YN, darling, come sit here—what would you like to eat?''

The table is full of different things. There are so many that they could eat for a few weeks and be full. YN doesn't think she saw that many vegetables and fruits in her life. She asks for what everyone is having and is happy to have her plate full. Grandpa also seems to be enjoying himself; he insists on wearing his best shirt for the occasion and now listens attentively to what the twins have to say. They make a good team, YN thinks—twins finally found free ears that are not yet tired of them, and there is nothing that Grandpa loves more than a good story.

When the dinner is over, YN speaks, talking to Miss Hadley beside her. ''Thank you for the invitation; your house is just lovely.''

''Cato made us clean every corner of it before you came—I didn't even have time to play outside!'' The youngest boy whines, pouting slightly.

YN chuckles as she watches colour gather at Cato's ears, his eyes glued to the dish in front of him. ''Well, it was definitely worth it—I had the most marvelous time with you here. And the food was delicious! But I am afraid we have to go; Grandpa should walk when it's still light outside.''

''We will take you home,'' Cato announces, nodding to the twins to put on their shoes. They do so happily, grabbing them and their jackets before Grandpa has a chance to stand up and stick to his side like glue.

The evening is pleasant; the wind is quite chilly, but Cato doesn't mind. The only sound on the street is twins arguing over who will help Grandpa Marc with his cane for the next two minutes.

''Thank you for coming,'' he says, looking at the woman walking beside him.

''Of course. We had a good time, - I hope you did too. How's life been? We haven't talked in a while.''

''Good,'' Cato lies. ''And yours?''

''Better. Since your dad quit, I got the day shift; it pays better, and I can finally get rid of those horrible dark circles.''

Cato nods. ''I've been thinking a lot about our past these days, especially our childhood. It feels like a lifetime ago.''

''Things change,'' YN shrugs. ''We've grown and become different people since then. I would've never imagined working at the factory, but here I am. And you win the games—that was your dream.''

''Don't you miss it? How easy were things back then?''

YN smiles. ''They never were easy, I think; we just couldn't understand them properly. Besides, not much changed, if you think about it.''

''Maybe not for you.''

''Why?'' YN turns to look at him.

Cato swallows. ''YN, they made me different. The games, all those kills—they changed me.''

''You did what you had to survive. It doesn't matter now that you are here.''

''You think I don't notice how people tiptoe around me now? How can Mom stand to look at me for more than a minute? How do boys try to avoid me at all costs? And dad—he doesn't even speak to me! ''

YN is silent. Cato curses in his mind—he shouldn't have said that. He takes a deep breath. ''I'm sorry. It just feels weird. It's like I don't have a home to return to and can't get into a new one. Just hanging there, mid-air.''

''When Grandpa was in the hospital, that's how it felt. I was too young to be alone, but there was no choice but to watch as everything I once loved fell into ruins. I was supposed to be going to movies, partying, and sneaking out, not juggling the bills from medication and the shop. But life decided otherwise. So, I built my own home within myself—one that nothing could tear down or take away.''

''I don't think there is anything left to build on. I'm not like you; everything anyone sees when they look at me is a monster .''

''I don't.'' YN stops. ''I see the boy who brought me a pretty big book with pictures so I could give the change correctly; I see a man who volunteered for his family to have a chance at a better life. I see you, real you, not the role mentors or Capitol made you play. Just Cato.''

''Can I hug you?'' His voice is barely above a whisper.

YN doesn't answer - she just takes a step closer into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.

''I'm sorry; I am so sorry for everything I've done," Cato mutters, his hands trembling as he holds onto YN tightly. ''I should've said it sooner. ''

''It doesn't matter now. We survived this; we are still here, you and I.''

Cato nods; his tears mix with hers, pooling in patches on his shirt. They are different—children who were forced to grow up too early in a world that wasn't for them. ''I think I never lost it—my home. It was always here, with you, on this street. Isn't it funny? All those years of searching, only to return here, where we truly belong?''

''The butcher's, you mean? If you wanted more candy, you could've just asked,'' YN smiles, whipping away her red eyes.

-

''Fucking finally,'' an aged voice mutters from behind the corner.

''Grandpa Marc!'' the twins turn to him, surprised.

The old man just smiles, his wrinkled face appearing younger with joy. ''Don't tell YN I said that. She'll never let me live it down."

The twins giggle, their happy laughter echoing on the street. A few moments later, Grandpa Marc joins in, his breathy laugh adding to the chorus. It's not the first time the street leading to the butcher's was woken up by sounds of joy, and he hoped it wouldn't be the last.

[moodymisty]

Okay but like imagine having kid with a Chapter Master, like Logan Grimnar (Yeah I know he is Grandpa but hey he still can get it) and imagine explaining it to Leman after he comes back, like idk "Umm hey dad we kinda had a cold war with Inquisition and this Inquisitor Lady was sent to monitor on us, and we kinda fell in love and made a kid?" (I love enemies to lovers and I must say Space Wolf with Inquisitor fic idea is just delicious as your Cato fics)

bestie I am totally in the camp of "fucking any peepaw of the chapter" so you don't need to justify yourself to me.

And also that idea sounds tasty. The whole forbidden love enemies to lovers thing is great. it's going to be bad enough explaining the relationship, but also the kid? oh no

[no-place-to-be-happy]

HC that Orion actually likes KVN for no reason other that it just pisses Grandpa Cato off that Orion likes KVN but hates him lmao

MY GOD, YES YES,

That would be a big blow to the old man's pride, IMAGINE that. JAJAJA OH MY GOD I LOVE IT

[thundergoodspeed]

little cato still didn't go to sleep after that but he got some quality time in with his grandpa

[caztiel]

when i was like 8 i was obsessed with the 39 clues and when i was like 10 they released the second series and in that series they gave those kids trauma… amy cahill was self-harming by further hurting a wound on her ear from an explosion or something bc she was feeling guilty i dont remember why but i do remember being confused about it bc that was my first major exposure to self harm as a concept and it was such a complex series and i think it fundamentally formed me as a person. some of the stuff in that series was dark but necessary. the next step from there was the hunger games when i was like 11 and THAT made me forget for a moment about the 39 clues because i was too busy trying to understand that series (i did my best but ultimately i was 11 and didnt have much knowledge about like, capitalism or control or complex systems etc) and i remember trying to explain it to my grandpa but i didnt have the words i was like it’s really good! and he was like it’s about murdering children how is it good??? and i was struggling like it’s about how thats BAD. anyway a scene from that series which still haunts me which perhaps i shouldnt have read at 11 is the end of the first book where peeta and katniss are facing against cato, and theres the mutts with the faces of all the dead tributes, and cato has his whole speech and eventually gets hit and falls in, and the mutts eat him, and katniss and peeta are just trying to get through it… they didnt put the faces of the victors on the mutts in the movie, i think because that as a visual would have been too disturbing. anyway i think disturbing media is important for slightly older children to consume especially if there’s a purpose to it. there were so many series i read with disturbing events that i have forgotten just because of time, like i know that surely something happened in the key to rondo series etc. idk im just thinking about these things. thank you for coming to my post i love you

[godstaff]

Wanna hear about superwonder kids, they have a son and daughter:

the son named is Alexander who does martial arts including wrestling, boxing, and karate. He is a introvert but also a warrior like his mom. He got his mother weapons and powers as well.

The daughter name is Sophia who does cheer and book club. She’s takes after Superman gentle and sunny demeanor but also inherit her mother passionate nature. She does train with her parents and aunt kara with her kyptonian powers.

That's great!

I've already had my version of the kids: the elder is called Selene, She's a very tall girl, she reaches 7' as an adult and has blue hair (I took that detail from Frank Miller's Lara. I found it interesting, but they are not the same) and is 12 years older than her brother, Aster, who's height will be 7'4" (An entire foot taller than his dad). Coincidence: the initials of each name are the same as yours, S for the girl and A for the boy. Due to their uniqueness and towering above every other kid, they don't have a secret identity, because it would've been impossible to sustain. Their parents ditched their own secret identities a few years before having kids, because it seemed ridiculous and a waiste of time and effort. Besides, Clark Kent and Diana Prince together looked an awful lot like Superman and Wonder Woman together. No matter how much they hunch.

The children look more or less like this:

Selene (kryptonian name Lena-El. Lena: 'full moon' in Kryptonese)

Aster (Kypronian name: Ter-El. Ter: 'morning star' in Kryptonese)

Those are their "working" attires as Suprema and Starburst. Their birth was possible, in part, thanks to magic, because Diana is a being of magic, that's what made them so special. They don't have magic powers, even though Selene inherited her mother's universal empathic abilities.

Note: I've chosen the name Aster for the boy before we all knew of a hero named "Asteria" in Themysciran history, thanks to the WW84 movie. I'm glad everything clicked in the end.

Both kids practice martial arts. Terran and Kryptonian: Kung Fu, Karate, Boxing, Brazilian Jiu jitsu, Grecorroman wrestling, Torquasm Vo, Horu Kano and Klukor. Their mother insisted on it. They also have weapon training: sword, spear (hand held and throwing), bolas, knife (hand held and throwing), axe, etc. Diana wanted them to be prepared for anything in case they adopt their parents responsibilities as protectors of the planet and solar system. Kal thought it would be a wonderful and useful idea. Same as Cato Fong, from "The Pink Panther" movies, Diana suggested they engage in surprise attacks of each other, to test their readiness for any eventuality. She herself surprises her kids every once in a while. The children found this game hilarious and adopted it gladly.

The children embraced their parents protective tasks, because they fell in love with the planet. No so much with people, but they could see the potential of humanity. The words of grandpa Jor resonated in their ears: "They are good people. They wish to be. For this reason, above anyother else, I sent you, my only child to them. In time, they will meet you in the sun." The children wanted to honor their grandpa words. As their parents, they think of themselves as a team. Even with the difference in age, family and friends started calling them "the Star Twins".

Their uniqueness made it difficult to find couple. They found themselves looking for companion from other worlds. In one excursion to outer space, the now 18 years old Aster crossed paths with Queen Maxima. She hasn't aged a day since the days she made his father's life hell. She looked at the boy admiringly. He just saw a very beautiful ginger who seemed to be slightly older than him.

Maxima: My, my...you must be Kal-El's son. The apple didn't fall far from the tree. It became a taller tree, I see.

Aster: Hi, I'm Ter-El. I'm the son of Kal-El and Diana, now Queen Diana of Themyscira.

Maxima: Yeah, yeah. The Amazon. I hope they are alright -She added devoid of sincerity.

Aster: My dad told us about you. You were a bad kitty back then, weren't you, your Majesty?

Maxima: There's some truth in that. I'm not proud of my behavior in those days. I was a young, spoiled new queen. Smitten by your handsome father. I can admit it now.

Aster: I've done some searching. As it appears, you are a good queen for your people...

Maxima: I'd like to think so. I would invite you to Almerac to see for yourself, but I doubt your parents would aprove.

Aster: I can make my own decisions. And I find it interesting the chance of an alliance between our planets.

Maxima: Oh! How so?

Aster: Your Majesty: my sister and I now happen to be the appoined protectors of our solar system . With all the threats coming from everywhere in space, say...Darkseid, Mongul, Imperiex, Braniac (Dad deactivated him last time they fought, but with his ability to transfer his program and intelligence to any AI in the vecinity, you can't be absolutely sure).

Maxima: Good thinking, young one. Better safe than sorry. The invitation remains open. You can come to visit...with your sister, if you want.

Aster: I'm making a mental note of it. I can't say how good a monarch you are, but I can see that you are a very charming one, Majesty.

Maxima: Stop with that Majesty nonsense! Your family and I have history! Your father was part of the nobility of Krypton, the twelve important families. Please call me Maxima. Ter-El, right?

Aster: No, no! My father was the son of a farmer on Earth...

Maxima: I'm not talking of his life on your backwater planet. If Krypton would still be here, Kal-El would be attending meetings at the Supreme Council, like his father. How do you think he got the means for an interstellar ship to save your father? When I wanted to have an offspring with Kal-El, I did some research also.

Aster: That's certainly something to consider, Your Ma...xima.

Maxima: "Your Maxima..."? Crude, but it's a start.

Aster: Sorry for asking, Maxima: Did you solve the matter of your offspring and heritage?

Maxima: Yes, I have a son. About your age. One of my suitors, Saphron, son of High Father, made that gift to me before he passed away in an attack by the Furies. The name of my son is Taximon. Autentication of his lineage was a complete nightmare. High Father wanted me to renounce in his name to any claim to the throne of New Genesis. He's a strong an intelligent young man. I'm very proud of him. He's pretty much like you...not as tall, though.

Aster was watching every curve of Maxima's bodacious anathomy. He was familiar with the term "cougar". The queen filled all the specifications and his hormones were running rampant.

Aster: Maxima: I won't take much more of your time. It was a pleasure to have met you, and I'll serously consider an educational visit to Almerac when possible.

Maxima (seductively): Education may take many forms. It could be surprising. I will strive to surprise you. She made a gesture for him to bow and planted a kiss on his cheek. The scent of her skin was intoxicating. Aster almost pass out but managed to control himself.

Aster: I'm looking forward to be surprised by you, my queen.

Maxima: I'm sure you have in store some hidden gems yourself, Ter-El. Be seeing you soon.

Aster (mesmerized): Soon...

On the opposite side of the trading hall where the guests mingle, Selene was trying to get to know people of other worlds in order to struck deals and forge alliances. She was fascinated by the diversity, but she didn't see anyone of her liking to bond more closely. Unlike her baby brother, she wasn't a newbie in relationships. She still remembers her first time, during the 18th birthday of Billie Batson. She was 20 at the time and the young Shazam made quite an impression on her. He kept calling her "Glamazon", which, for some stupid reason, amused her. He wasn't too tall, but tall enough, she thought. In the apex of the party, they disappeared, to come back 45 minutes later, with their hair all messy and not looking at each other for a while. They repeated their encounters for a while, until the novelty wore off.

She descarded to find a Billie in all this alien multitude, but she was hopeful and open to possibilities.

Stranger: Hello. My name is Abar-tos. I'm from Daxam. I believe you are Kryptonian, aren't you? (looking at the symbol on her chest) Ah, House of El. My planet and that of your ancestors used to trade in goods and technology. We knew Jor-El very well as a commerce representative. He was honest and friendly.

Selene: He was my grandfather. Unfortunately, he passed away when the planet blew, but managed to save my father as a baby on a ship to the stars. I always wanted to know what happened to the rest of the system where the star Rao was the center, when Krypton blew.

Abar: It was a disaster!! The gravitational forces were all askew. For a while it was hard to tell up from down. The debris impacted Daxam causing earthquakes and tsunamis. thousand of lives were lost. Fortunately, our leaders were levelheaded and acted swiftly. Ironically, we used the same technology we aquired from Krypton to minimize the damage and shield Daxam from the pieces of Krypton. It took twenty years before the orbit became stable again. There was two more planets between Krypton and Daxam. One was completely destroyed, the other broke orbit and became a rogue planet. Those worlds were uninhabited, but their loss messed the situation of the system. Our scientists developed solar sails to stir the globe In the right direction. The molten core rotation was restarted to correct the magnetic fields. It was an enterprise of planetary proportions. I'm making it sound easy, but it's been decades of struggle and uncertainty. We had the help of many of the worlds which's ambassadors you can find here today. We still can't believe it. For a while my people even considered moving to another planet, but the Daxaforming of another globe would take generations to be viable.

Selene: Are you conscious that, if Rao wasn't a red star, you may have developed superpowers like we both have here, under a white star, and solve the problems with your own hands.?

Abar: We discovered the beneficial effects of a yellow or white sun too late. We consider ourselves lucky of still have a homeplanet. We are continuously working to solve the problems that still exist. I promise I stop talking about Daxam. Sorry, I didn't hear your name, miss...?

Selene: Forgive my lousy manners. (extending her hand) Lena, Lena-El

Abar (smiling and shaking her hand): A pleasure to meet you, Lena. Can I buy you something to drink so we can continue our talk and get to know each other better? Not always I have the fortune of encounter a beautiful girl who towers a head above me. Can we go to another place? Here, near the landing docks there's too much lead from the ship's fuel. We Daxamites have low tolerance to lead.

Selene: I say we go to grab something to eat and drink and go for a pic-nic in the surrounding parks. If you have time, that is.

Abar: Magnificent idea! Love a woman with beauty and brains.

And just like that they lift from the ground together and flew to their destination.

She couldn't help feeling butterflies in her gut. She thought: He's probably ten years my senior, but he'scute, articulate and has a mellifluous voice. Score, Lena!

[beepbeepbeepjeep]

previous / next

/— 2: Beings from Beyond  —/

“...holy shit.” Beau’s expression is a mixture of shock, adrenaline, and awe. He turns to Cato. “How’d you do that?”

“It’s not the first time.” he says flatly.

…

“O-kay,” Ascot raises an eyebrow, “you’re just, not going to elaborate?”

He rolls his eyes, “I’m used to high stress situations. Had to calm down more than a few people in my time.”

 Tauny snickers. “In your time? What are you, a seasoned war veteran?”

“Aren’t you like, 16?” The pink one pipes up again.

“I’m 19, you imbecile.” Cato says, tone barbed.

“Whatever, broody grandpa.” Ascot groans, “Appreciate the help, truly. But if you want to go back to ignoring all of us again, be my guest.”

“I will. Thank you.” 

Ascot drops their voice to a whisper, “Don’t listen to him, you’re not an imbecile.”

The pink one whispers back,  “What’s an imbecile?”

“Sorry,” Savannah starts. Everyone turns to them immediately, making her flinch. “I- who are you?”

“Me?” 

She nods.

“Oh! My name’s Lizabel Mayam. Liza for short.” she smiles apologetically. “Sorry for… what happened earlier."

Savannah tenses but carries on. “It wasn’t your fault. You- you couldn’t have known.”

Ascot gives Liza a cheeky sort of ‘I told you so’ look. She chuckles and visibly relaxes.

“I’m glad you’re okay now.” she pauses, “Just checking, you are okay, right?”

“Yeah, you sure you’re good?” Ascot asks as well. “I don’t need to punch… whats-his-name, in the face or anything?”

“I can still hear you.” Cato frowns.

Savannah feels her soul lighten a little. “I’m fine, I promise.” they smile.

“Great!” Liza grins, “So… I don’t want to pry for an explanation if you don’t want to give one, but-”

Savannah’s expression sobers.

“I would, if I had the option.” they sigh, “It’s just I’m not sure if I even have an explanation for… anything that’s happening here, really.”

Luckily for all of you, I do. A disembodied entity speaks from the front of the jeepney.

Everyone struggles to keep their balance as the entire vehicle comes to a screeching halt.

“What the hell?!”

Welcome, passengers. The voice speaks in an ominous reverberated baritone. Heck Inc. is happy to be of service. 

The driver’s seat shakes in its place, emitting a strange orange mist that clouds everyone’s vision. 

From it emerges a metallic mannequin dressed in an obnoxiously yellow vest-cap combo, seated on the driver’s side and gripping the steering wheel. It turns its head over its shoulder (shoulder?) to face the group’s identical looks of confusion and fear.

“How’s the ride been so far?” it asks nonchalantly.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Tauny repeats, this time louder and more frantic.

The mannequin tuts.

“I believe you misheard me. It’s Heck Inc., not Hell Inc. Though I do understand the confusion.”

“Who- why-...what-?!” Ascot, overflowing with questions, struggles to find which one to ask first.

“Where are we.” Cato demands.

“I believe I just told you. You are in a vehicle currently provided by Heck Inc.”

“Yes, I get that.” he concedes, “But why.”

“I believe that should be evident.”

Cato’s brow furrows, “It very much is not.”

“I believe-”

“Oh, my God!” Beau snaps. “I don’t care what you BELIEVE, just tell us what’s going on here or I swear-”

The mannequin lets out a strange mechanical sigh.

“You humans are always in such a rush to ask the ‘why’s and ‘what’s that you never stop to ponder the ‘if’s.”

Tauny, head in hands, cries in frustration. “What. the. Hell.”

“For fuck’s sake, are those the only three words in your vocabulary?” Beau hisses.

“There’s a living breathing MUPPET in front of us and you’re worried about my VOCABULARY?!”

“Shhhhh!” Liza shushes them. “I say we let the muppet speak.”

“Thank you, Lizabel.” the muppet spoke. 

She flinches at the use of her name.

“First order of business, I am not a muppet.”

“But-“ Tauny starts.

“And. If anyone says that I am, they will be punished accordingly.” A whirring sound is made as the mannequin narrows its eyes at the ginger.

“Alright! Alright, Jesus… point taken.”

“I am also not Jesus. Though I am flattered by the sentiment, Mr. Hep.” 

Tauny sputters. 

Beau giggles. “I like this guy.”

“You only like him because he’s annoying and likes to insult me.”

“Exactly!” he says with a shit-eating grin. “He and I have a lot in common.”

Tauny smirks. “So you admit you’re annoying?”

“So you admit I do know how to insult you?” Beau shoots back.

Ascot interrupts, holding their arms between the pair. 

“If you two are finished dallying-”

This proves unsuccessful, much to the disdain of the rest of the party.

“Dallying?!” “We are not dallying.” Is said at the same time at full volume. Savannah has to resist the urge to cover her ears.

“Oh! I’m sorry.” Ascot continues, not looking very sorry. “Then what are you doing, if I may ask?”

“...level-headed debate.”

“I was not aware that level-headed debates contained so much screaming.” Savannah says, speaking for the first time in a while.

Cato nods in agreement. “I’d hardly call that a debate. Let alone ‘level-headed’.” 

Liza gasps. “Did you just make a joke?”

“What? No, I did not-”

“Grandpa told his first joke, everybody!” Ascot whoops, playing along.

“It wasn’t even a joke.” He crosses his arms. “There was no punch line.”

Liza shrugs, “It was vaguely snarky.” 

“Still not a joke.”

“Well based on what I’ve seen so far, it’s as close to a joke as we’re ever going to get from you.”

“Based on what you’ve seen-? You know nothing about me. None of you do.”

“Today we’ll be changing that.” The mannequin clears its throat, readying itself for a speech. As the air stills, the lights in the jeepney shift from white to a moody burnt orange. In a booming voice, the mannequin begins to narrate. “In the beginning there was-“

“Woah! Woah! Hold the phone.” 

The lights shift back. The mannequin sighs. “What is it, Lizabel?” It asks, clearly tired.

“There! You just did it again!” She’s sitting at the edge of her seat. “How do you know my name?”

“Ah, I was going to answer that. If you had just listened then perhaps-”

“Do you know all of our names?”

“I- Well, yes, I do.”

“Are you like… God?”

“No. There is no god. Not in this universe at least.”

“Ha!” Tauny claps his hands together in triumph. “Called it! Take that Catholic school.”

Beau raises an eyebrow. “You went to Catholic school?”

“Uh.. yeah?” He responds, not quite sure if that was meant to be a dig. “Why?”

“That. Explains so much. Wow.”

“Do you have something against Catholic schools?” Savannah asks.

“Oh! No, no, I just-”

The lights in the jeep go dark. The entire vehicle goes pitch black. Even the starlight seems to stop shining for a few seconds. 

In those few seconds, the space is filled with sounds of panicked confusion. At least one person screams.

Almost as soon as it starts, it stops. 

“I’m sorry. That was immature of me. I’m glad you’re well-acquainted with one another. But if you don’t mind, I would like to speak without interruptions.”

The group is silent. Cato didn’t have to be told twice. Beau is deep in thought.  Ascot just wants this to be over with. Savannah stares at the mannequin, wondering why parts of it felt so familiar. Tauny looks like he’s barely keeping it together. Liza gives an awkward thumbs up. “Thank you.”

previous / next

[clatoera]

it's been a long time coming but

GOD here's the full review i promised I HOPE YOUR STUDYING IS GOING WELL!!!! you are going to crush your exams

about ten asks ago i asked why glimmer (and the others) were encouraged to go into the games despite people close to them knowing what goes on when you become a victor. the answer is.... harrowing at best. all the sections with glim glam and the horrors beyond your imagination that comes with child prostitution!!!! KILLED ME. GUTTED ME. i've reached out into the fic and have put her in a little tupperware with holes at the top and leaves in it and she tells me that she's much happier there and doesn't want to be a part of your fic anymore!!! LEAVE HER ALONE SHES A BABY!!!

For a girl who spends her entire life with her body and her skin on display– there's something incredibly personal and intimate about being covered up.

WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT!?!?! marbles and glim glam are THE couple of all time... marvel seems a little goofy but the way he understands her intuitively CHEFS KISS MA'AM.

also thank you marvel for giving us the funniest moment in this chapter which was the hypothetical red alert everyone was going to get if cato was let loose in the streets if clove died.

the color scene in the train with everlark vs this one with clato. my god. both of their favorite colors being red like do these babies know ANYTHING that's not related to bloodshed. makes you wonder what they would actually do without the hunger games. especially cato now that he's a canon nepo grandbaby. im obsessed with the thin line between violence and tenderness that these two overstep all the damn time. will they stab each other only for it to feel like a kiss? only time will tell.

when it comes to the actual games, all of them being directly opposite each other is a CRIME and i need plot armor for all 24 tributes by next chapter STAT i better not lose anyone in there!!! they will hold hands and host the first annual talent games IDGAF i want to see marvel juggle flaming knives i want to see mags catch the weirdest goddamn fish with a hairpin we don't care about killing each other killing is overrated!!! we love friendship and peace in this house actually and everyone is friends with everyone and we all visit grandpa snow for cookies and milk he dgaf about the games either so everyone's families are safe!!

GOOD LUCK AGAIN ON YOUR EXAMS ily have a great day!

BESTIE YOU ALREADY KNOW I WAIT SO PATIENTLY FOR THESE!!

Starting with saying THANK YOU for your support and confidence in me on these exams that makes ONE of us!! I'm falling apart!! having nervous breakdowns and all that jazz!! So thank you, this means so much to hear.

Yeah so..when you sent that ask I already knew this answer. I knew it would be answered at some point, and I feel like the horrors of reading it in this chapter was far worse than the answer I gave to that ask? Like more graphic. This chapter actually LITERALLY increased my rating on the fic, because I just..felt it wasn't doing justice to tone down what Glimmer experienced. Because..it is horrific and it is awful and it's violent. I consider it one of the most heinous, horrific things that can be done to someone. And while I hated doing it to her, I felt it was realistic as to what we know from canon, the capitol, and the price she pays for being a beautiful young girl. It's horror. It's horrendous. And as you sawy you want her out of the fic and safe..theres only one sure fire way to get her out of the fic and I dont think you'd like if that happened!! (i wouldn't either). Put her in her little jar like a firefly and shake her up. You actually hit one of the big horrific points in this paragraph-- She is just a baby. Fifteen. She was a child, a little girl. And she has faced horrific horrific things .

Listen here bestie. Marbles and Glim Glam have weaseled their way into my heart and they are there to stay!! I love them with my whole heart!! I want them to be happy! Now I don't let them be happy..but..maybe one day! Marbles is a silly little man. We know that. Thats true. But he is intuitive to her and he loves her. For who she is. And thats all that really matters. Also noone gave me the right ❤️ I am a felon ❤️ breaking the law.

Also yes. Everyone knows they want to be no where near cato if clove died. He would be busy being a menace. The purge on panem streets. Hunting down Cory Snow himself.

These babies know nothing of life without the hunger games. LIke truly. What would they do, who would they be, etc, in a life without the games? Maybe his favorite color would have been evergreen or hers a pretty oceany blue. Maybe they would have had hobbies. Maybe Cato would have spent his free time getting berated as a baseball coach, and by berated I mean Enobaria by the fence absolutely verbally assaulting him for his foolishness. Cato is a legacy!! Clove would've been but her mother died. As you can tell his grandparents died before the victors vote because they may not have sent their grandson into the games. And yes! They walk SUCH a fine fine line between love and violence. It's inextricably tangled with them-- who would they be without it?

When it comes to the games!! Well!! The good news is I decide who gets plot armor and how!! I have control who lives who dies who tells this story! So uh!! Fear not!! or Fear a lot!!

THANK YOU again for your support and confidence in me! Truly Someone has to have it because it isn't me!! I'm having literal meltdowns!! Thank you thank you i love you and I cant wait to see you after next chapter!!

@lwveless

[calyxthenerd]

Aight so crazy stuff that happened in Violetta and Soy Luna:

Gregorio breaking into the studio on several occasions

Luna's parents getting arrested

Violetta being pushed down the stairs

Maxi's flirting shennanigans in S1

Ámbar burning down Jam and Roller

The Roxy and Fausta plot

Everything Jade and Matias did

The whole Sol Benson plot, just everything about it, was pretty crazy

The fact that Tino and Cato more or less knew the entire time about everything but were too stupid to realize it

Eva and Ada. The end.

Hope you like it (fair warning though, I have multiple versions of canon in my head, so if something seems inconsistent, that’s why)

“So yeah, I broke into my old job’s building sometimes, and there was this kid, really weird kid, who thought I was a goblin or something, but then I blackmailed him into doing my dirty work, fun times”

“Uh, dad, the new applicant just asked where the bathroom was” but it was too late, the poor pianist was already running out of the building, before Gregorio or Diego could react further

—————————————————————

“And then, my parents’ boss, who was also my aunt, framed my parents and my grandpa for forgery of a bunch of paintings, but my best friend’s mom is a lawyer, so they managed to get out of it, but then…” she goes on to finish the whole story of her family drama, up until Sharon being admitted to the mental hospital “and that is all my family drama”

The horrified interview manages to pull themselves together after a few, long and awkward, minutes and says “that was all for today’s segment of ‘the truth behind the wheels’ thanks for tunning in and I’ll see you next week!” Before making a bunch of gestures for the cameraman to cut

“So, how did I do? This was my first solo interview” Luna asked innocently

“It was… something, though, can I give you some advice, public figure to public figure?” Luna nods “Don’t go sharing everything about your private life on the air, luckily this is a recording, so I can bribe- uh, I mean ask the editing crew to cut most of that out, do you have anything specifically you want me to keep? We’re only keeping one of the… annecdotes you shared”

“Oh, okay, I guess I have some stuff to learn about being on the public eye, and you can keep the part about me being my parents’ boss’ previously thought dead niece, since this is pretty much common knowledge already”

“Alright, thanks for coming today, Luna, we’re going to release the interview in three days”

“Oh yeah, I have a friend who works here, they’re actually organizing a viewing party with all our friends and the friends she made while she was part of a channel with another one of our friends, before she came to work with you guys”

“Oh right, Carbajal, wasn’t it? She’s very known around the office, quite a fiery type, that one” she chuckled

“She is, but we love her anyways” just then, Luna’s phone goes off and she grabs it “Oh, I have to go, my boyfriend is picking me up to have dinner with a couple of friends” she says, starting to walk away

“That’s wonderful, have a good double date, darling” she waved at Luna, who waved back before leaving

—————————————————————

“So, for this we need your medical history, any allergies, previous injuries, etc” said the stage manager

“I don’t know why you need my allergies for stunt training, but okay, I only have a minor shrimp one, and talking about injuries, the only one I can remember was that one time I was pushed down a flight of stairs and I’m pretty sure I was concussed, and a minor sprained ankle, funnily enough, also from falling down stairs” she huffed out a laugh

The man spluttered “I-I’m sorry, what? You were pushed down a flight a stairs? Now I need to know the story, you always have the craziest ones, Vilu”

“Oh, yeah, my life is pretty wild, when you think about it, so, the thing is- have I told you about Priscilla, Lu’s mom?”

“I think you did, she was the second last of your dad’s failed ‘weddings’ right? The one that ended up in the mental hospital?”

“That’s the one, anyways, she didn’t want anyone to know that she was clinically insane, because she had this weird obsession with dad, but she hated me, because I was too ‘improper’ and Angie because my dad had this weird thing with her, i don’t want to remember their wedding, worst. day. ever, anyways, Priscilla, I was gonna tell dad about her attempts on Angie’s life, and she didn’t like that, so as I was climbing down an outdoor staircase, she pushed me, I had my back turn and didn’t see who it was, I thought it was Lu, it was a whole thing, but that’s the story”

“Wow, Vi, that’s pretty dark, she wanted to kill Angie?! How can you want to harm her?? She’s literally the sweetest woman I’ve ever met!”

“I won’t even pretend to be offended that I don’t hold the title, because she really is”

“How are you even alive after everything that’s happened to you?”

“Most of it wasn’t that physical, anyways, about that stunt…?”

“Oh, yes! The stunt! So, what you’re gonna want to do is…” he gets back on track, explaining what she has to do

—————————————————————

“So, was Naty your first girlfriend?” Asks the manager of the tech booth on his shows as a DJ, a short girl with a pixie cut

He laughs nervously “It’s complicated, I don’t really want to talk about it”

“Pleaseeeeeee, for your favorite lesbian?”

“You’re not my favorite lesbian, Lena is”

“Screw you, anyways, tell me, please”

“Fine, so, on my second year on the studio, I was freshly transitioned, and I wanted to prove myself as man, so I started to, quite literally, flirt with every girl I saw in front of me, that lead to me hitting on my cousin, getting a stalker who kissed me without my consent, having a brief thing with my boyfriend’s younger sister, until I started dating Naty, then it was on and off her until i started dating Andrés and she started dating Ludmila on our last year, well, there was that week that me and Cami tried being together, it didn’t work, but now I’m happy with my Andy”

“That’s great dude, not the middle, but the ending, I’m glad that, after all that shit, you managed to find your person”

“Me too” he smiles fondly

—————————————————————

“Hey, fire breath” Matteo grinned, ruffling Ámbar’s hair, when he saw her having lunch with a coworker

“Oh shut it, fence crawler” she shot back, batting his hand away “what do you want, can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Oh, don’t stop on my account, I’m too intrigued by whatever this is” the other woman said, making a vague gesture with her hand

“Matteo Balsano, although you probably already know that” he said in an arrogant manner that was uniquely his

“Mariana Jimenez, and I have no idea who you are” she snarked, she knew who he was from stories Ámbar told her, but wanted to knock him down a few pegs

“Ha! Take that your cocky asshole!”

“Okay, topic switch, what’s up with the nicknames?” Mariana questions

“Oh, little miss lawyer didn’t tell you about her past?” He grinned wider

“Matteo, I’m asking you to please shut up right now”

“Why would I? Is someone scared?” He challenged

“This is not a game, if you make me get fired I’ll end you”

“Why, you played with fire and now you don’t want to get burned?”

“Do whatever you want, but just you know, this will cost you everyone who still tolerates you, hope it was worth it for one of one of your little jokes” she gets up, slamming the amount her meal cost on the table before strutting out of the restaurant

“So, now that the killjoy is gone, I can tell you, she was jealous of how better than her my ex was at everything, so she always tried to sabotage everything that she did, and so, there were some cameras recording everything we did on the place we used to go to skate, so she purposefully broke one of the cameras with a skate that was really similar to the ones my ex used to own, and then, during a party we hosted there, she spilled soda on the mainframe that held all the recordings, causing a power outage, then after everyone had left, the system short-circuted and every single one of the cameras burst into flames, being destroyed, and one of them caught another structure, burning the rink down, and that’s why I call her fire breath” he finishes

After he’s done, she throws her drink on his face “She’s told me about how she was raised and some of the stuff she did because of it, she also told me how much of an asshole you are, but I didn’t want to believe it was this much, fuck you Balsano, I hope that you burn” and she walks out, calling Ámbar’s phone

—————————————————————

“And then she finally forgave us for doubting that she would be anything less than accepting” Francesca finished telling her boyfriend the story of how she got together with their other boyfriend

“That’s great, but what about her and Leon? I’m pretty sure they were going through some stuff when I left?”

For plot reasons let’s pretend that’s true, I don’t know if it is

“Oh yeah, they were, he wanted to leave the studio, she didn’t understand it, so they broke up, it was a mess for a while, then there was the whole Roxy and Fausta debacle, he was so pissed when he found out, but after a while he forgave her, but they were too wrapped up in their mistakes to admit they were still loved each other, so for a few weeks they tried being friends, until our trip to Spain, when Clement and Gery came clean about attempting to tear them apart during the time they tried being friends, so they made up, and everything was normal again”

“That’s really sweet, but I’m gonna need you to back up a bit, who the hell are Roxy and Fausta?”

“Oh” she giggles “I haven’t told you about that, have I?”

“That’s why I’m asking”

“Roxy and Fausta are me and Vilu”

“I beg your pardon? I’m gonna need a little more context than that”

“So, Vilu couldn’t handle being separated from Leon after their big fight, so she decided that the most logical step was to dress up in a costume and a wig and make up a new name and just show up on his garage, where he rehearsed with the band, as a fan, and you know how I can’t say no to her, so I got dragged into it and then it snowballed, Diego found out the first time he saw as them, he knows me so well, he could see right through it, we ended up telling Cami a few weeks later, because you know how she is, nothing gets past her, Ludmila saw us getting changed a few days after that, and finally, because he obviously fell for Roxy too, Leon found out when he kissed her in costume and realized the kiss was too familiar”

“Wow, that’s… a lot”

“It is, and I hate remembering it” she frowns

“I have something that might make you feel better” he smirks, leaning closer to her

She catches on, grinning “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“I think you know” and he kisses her

And the rest I’ll leave to your imaginations because this is a family blog

—————————————————————

“Darling, come over here” Nicolas asks, fiddling with his tablet

His wife saunters over, the clicking of her high-heeled shoes slightly muffled by the carpeted floor of the hotel room they’re currently in

“What is it?” She questions

“I was looking through some old newspapers and why were you in jail?”

“Oh” she grimaces “that, you remember my brother, right?”

“Of course I remember him” he scowls “I’m glad you cut contact with the guy, he wasn’t good for you”

“So, our father was a conman, and the police found out, arrested him and froze all of his assets, leaving us with nothing, and since he didn’t want to work, he made me put on an act, I was supposed to be dumb and stereotypically pretty, not saying I’m not, I’m gorgeous, and I am generally joyful, but I’m not that stupid, just a little clueless on social cues, anyways, I was supposed to be dumb and pretty to lure in a rich guy, but then I got too into it and got obsessed with Castillo, and ended up juggling between that and getting sucked into my brother’s schemes for money, that landed us in jail after he hired an actress to con him, I tried to warn him it was a bad idea, but it was hard to break character at that point, so he wouldn’t listen, since he was convinced I was what I was portraying, anyways, after we got out, he ended up dating the cop that arrested us, but she found out he was still scheming and left him, and that was around the time that I met you, so while I was living here, he was secretly living with the Castillo’s, so yeah, then I didn’t know what was happening to him for a while, until I was invited to testimony on his trial, and told the jury everything that he did, both to me and to other people, I’m so glad I met you, otherwise I would never have been able to break away from that” she was crying at this point, retelling your trauma is not fun

He held her to his chest, stroking her hair “as long as I’m alive, that man will never ever be able to even look at you again”

—————————————————————

Luna was just chilling, cuddled up on her favorite person’s chest, when her phone rang

“Lunaaa, turn that offfff, I’m trying to sleep, and it’s so cozy with you here” Simón whines

“I have to take this! What if it’s an emergency?” She grabs her phone, while dodging Simón’s attempts of pulling her back in “It’s Leo!!” after hearing his favorite cousin’s name he gives up on trying to sleep and sits up

“Really? What do you think he wants to say?”

“I don’t know, now shush, I need to answer!” She picks up the call “Hi, Leo! What’s up?”

“Put him on speaker” Simón whispers on her ear that doesn’t have the phone pressed against it

She does so “You’re on speaker!”

“Good, now, what the fuck? You’re a gazillionaire all of a sudden and you didn’t tell me?”

“Oh, that, it’s complicated”

“No, you’re not getting out of this with ‘it’s complicated’ missy, I want the whole story, now”

“Okay, the thing is…” she tells the whole story of how she figured out she was Sol, because I’m too lazy to write all that

“Wow, that is- holy shit, Luni, are you okay? Because I will personally pay for your therapy bills if you want it, obviously you don’t need anyone to pay for things, but I want to help, and seeing that I’m currently planning my wedding, I can’t be around too much”

“Don’t worry, Leo, I’m fine, your cousin is more than great at taking care of me” she looks up at him, running her hand up and down his arm

“He better, he knows I’d have his head if he didn’t”

“Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around?”

“He knows I like you more than him”

“I’m not even going to complain, because I also like her more than you” Simón pipes up

“Anyways, I gotta go, the bride’s freaking out about floral arrangements again”

“Bye Leo” Luna says, pressing the phone against her ear again, much to Simón’s protests

“Bye Luni, your dress should be delivered any day now” and he hangs up

—————————————————————

“So, what was your last employer like?” Asks the trio’s new boss

“Oh, you don’t want to know about Sharon” Amanda says

“Why not? It’s not like she can hurt us because of everything we know about Sol Henson now” her husband counters

“He’s right, can we tell?” Tino asks

“Fine, but you better tell it right” she responds

“So, what happened was-“ they tell the story, cutting each other off multiple times, arguing over details, getting people’s names wrong, Amanda had to chastise them multiple times, before they were finally done “And that’s the story”

“So, you mean to tell me that you had all the pieces lined up and you didn’t put it together that it was the employees’ kid all along?”

“We did?” They ask in unison

“You did” Amanda replies, completely done with those two

—————————————————————

“It’s so weird that you never came over, we’ve been best friends for- how many years?” Camila ponders

“I honestly have no idea” Maxi answers

“Hi!” The twins greet him, popping up from nowhere

“AAAAAAH” he screams, properly spooked

They completely disregard him, turning to their older sister “Cam-Cam, we’re in big trouble”

“What happened this time?” she asks

“So, you know that thing you told us to do because it would be funny? We agreed to come clean today, but since the guys got crushes on us and started arguing because of it, when we revealed that we were twins, they started physically fighting, and the third one ended up falling off the stage because of it”

“Okay, girls, that was a little too far, you need to learn when to commit to the bit, and when to stop before it snowballs into a mess”

After recovering, Maxi lets out, his voice still a little shaky “Those are your sisters? What did you have them do?”

“Yes, these are Eva and Ada, they both wanted to join this band, but it only had one spot, so I told them that it would hilarious if they pretended to be one person, that way they could switch and they’d both get to be in the band, but it seems it went a bit too far, I hope that guy is okay”

“I’m sorry, WHAT?!”

[ot3blogs22]

The Universally Effective OT Service: The Future of OT Profession

What is the future of occupational therapy? A question that compels us to consider the history and foundations of Occupational Therapy. It is nearly impossible to identify or envision the future of the occupational therapy profession without first looking back at its history and current state in order to precisely grasp the future of occupational therapy that bridges all gaps and confronts the injustices of the past that have shaped the realities of today or the foundation of the profession.

Before we dive into the history and foundations of occupational therapy profession, let us define occupational therapy. Occupational Therapy is a client-centred health profession concerned with promoting health and well-being through occupation, it is concerned with enabling occupational engagement and independence in meaningful occupations ( WFOT, 2012).  

(Picture illustrating paths of the past and the future. Retrieved from Google Images, April 2023)

However, the most significant proponents of occupational therapy come from backgrounds that distinguish them from the majority of individuals in the world and even from the majority of people within their own minority. Typically, these backgrounds included being well-educated, urban middle-class, middle-aged, able-bodied, and white Anglophones. The majority of theories originate from the western industrial population, which only accounts for 12% of the world's population (Hammel, 2018).

(Picture illustrating the gap between the past and the future. Retrieved from Google Images, April 2023)

This has resulted in models and theories that were unresponsive to multiple viewpoints, culture, and values; people's distinct priorities and values were not explored while forming the foundation of the practice, which is concerned with human occupation, therefore should be formed by humans lived experiences. This has resulted in theories and models that are not universally appropriate and relevant for all. For example, a grandpa with a spinal cord injury in the Durban township of Cato Manor may not value independence in ADLs and would rather conserve the energy and time for his cherished/valued occupations. This discussion has led me to consider the injustices that must be addressed in order for a way forward and the future of the profession. The occupation lacks diversity. According to Hammel, 2020, occupation is a health determinant, so the future of occupational therapy is one that is inclusive and diverse, in order to deliver quality occupational therapy services that are fair and beneficial to all.

(Picture illustrating diversity and inclusion. Retrieved from Google Images, April 2023)

As a final-year occupational therapy student who works with a diverse population in the Cato Manor community and is aware that our profession's foundation is mostly Western-based, I have gained an understanding and appreciation for the importance of keeping those factors in mind while working within the Cato Manor community. As I would be using Western-based frameworks and models, it is critical that I evaluate the impact of their culture, social history and background, and political history such as apartheid, so that I plan and offer service that is culturally relevant, fair and appropriate.

Some of the injustices include racism, patriarchy, and cultural classism (Kronenberg, 2022), which subjected people to dehumanizing conditions, and moving forward in the profession, these are some of the injustices that need to be addressed.

According to Kronenberg (2022) the profession is Western-dominated, monoculturally shaped, and being imposed to the diverse population, and the effects of this include what I saw in the community of Cato Manor, whereby an elderly lady was being trained in ADLs, specifically dressing, which she saw no value in and would have preferred to participate in a religious group session, which would have enhanced her quality of life.

(Picture illustrating the means to justice. Retrieved from Google Images, April 2023)

According to the World Federation of Occupational Therapy, occupational therapists enable the right to participate in meaningful, purposeful occupation, regardless of medical condition, social stigma, or discrimination (WFOT, 2019). It is crucial to note that WFOT does not only identify our contribution as the facilitation of independence of human function, but also as the facilitation of the right to occupational participation.​

Moving forward, we need to have more inclusive theoretical models, culturally appropriate approaches, clear emphasis on occupational rights, and explore and be more aware of structural constraints that impede clients' occupational engagement. Move to a universally inclusive approach.  

References

Hammell, K.W. (2020). Action on the social determinants of health: Advancing occupational equity and occupational rights. Available at: https://scholar.google.com (Accessed: 27 April 2023).

Hammell, K. W. (2018). Building globally relevant occupational therapy from the strength of our diversity. WFOT Congress. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9WipUPXx_Kk​ (Accessed: 27 April 2023).

Kronenberg, F. (2022). The Idea of Occupational Therapy is too Radical and Powerful to be Contained by a Profession. Available at: https://youtu.be/yZXmsDfOI0I. (Accessed: 27 April 2023).

WFOT (World Federation of Occupational Therapists). (2019). Statement on human rights (rev.). Retrieved from https://wfot.org/ resources/occupational-therapy-and-human-rights (Accessed: 27 April 2023).

World Federation of Occupational Therapists (2012) Definition of occupational therapy. http://www.wfot.org/AboutUs/AboutOccupationalTherapy/DefinitionofOccupationalTherapy.aspx (Accessed: 27 April 2023).

[crassussativum]

@turianspeedjunkie

“And this is Remmy.” Cato held the dog plush up in front of his chest, smiling over the top of her head with its big floppy ears. Siska looked sort of unimpressed, but the boy had expected that. When he’d invited Siska to see more neat places on the ship, he was sure the drell hadn’t counted the barracks as one such place. “I’ve had her basically my whole life. My grandpa gave her to me when I was barely as tall as my own spurs.”

[alexjcrowley]

Tag yourself "Ancient Rome main characters but it's just very violent personal attacks" - Pompeius-Ceasar Civil Wars edition + Cato The Elder because yes:

Marcus Tullius Cicero

you just can't shut the fuck up

that's lucky you're a silver tongue devil, though

always bringing up old merits

you love poetry, poetry just doesn't love you

somehow you always choose the worst side in any argument

you have a very unique way to tell a story- the way in which you look like the hero

I'm not saying you have a victimistic attitude, but-

Titus Pomponius Atticus

you may be pretty smart, and pretty kind, and very pretty, but you're constantly overshadowed by your more popular friends

you're the Benvolio of the group

can't you just, for once, pick a side in your life? Would it kill you?

I don't know what to tell you, bestie, there would be lots of things to tell, you're just not popular enough that people would actually know what I'm talking about

also stop giving your money away to your friends, I get it- you're a nice person, but they're going to drain you in the end

Cato Maior (Cato The Elder)

the grandpa friend

you just realized you're old and now you spend all your time hating on kids like 2 years younger than you saying stuff like all the new generations suck

Congratulations, you're a boomer on the inside

You didn't download tik tok because it's a matter of principle

🌌salty🌌

you complain about everything CAN YOU STOP COMPLAINING FOR FIVE MINUTES

People just turn off their attention when you talk for more than 5 minutes about how influencers ruined the world

Julius Caesar

you're a slut, both in a metaphorical and literal sense

you're competitive in a toxic way

you kin Regina George

you walk around like everybody wants to fuck you, both in a metaphorical and a literal sense

Main Character Syndrome alert

you think Patrick Bateman is a role model

Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus (or Pompey The Great)

if Julius Caesar is Regina George, you're Gretchen Wieners

No, no, no, better: you're Heather Duke

walking second place medal

you're rich, you're clever, you're ambitious, just not enough

honestly I'm so sorry, you're great, you're just severely underrated

you're into pirates? Historically speaking, you should be

Marcus Licinius Crassus

who needs a personality when you're rich?

that's all you're ever going to be to people: rich and privileged, and therefore hated with the fiery of a thousand suns

you post Instagram stories with bags with Chanel/Louis Vuitton/Gucci logo

you drink Starbucks. In 2022.

it doesn't matter whether you say you support or you don't support Bezos and Musk: wake up, honey, your entire lifestyle is a hymn to capitalism

Gaius Valerius Catullus

ah! simp

they're never going to call you back, you need to understand this

you can passive aggressive vague post about them how much you want, they're never going to care and you're just making yourself a laughingstock to anybody else

you loooooved the tumblr girl culture

odi et amo is NOT making you look deep and intellectual, use literally any other latin quotation for your status, I'm begging you

[no-place-to-be-happy]

Thinking abt the Final Space pilot and like

Things like Grandpa Cato, Little Cato being a prince and Avocato adopting Little Cato were things that were thought of post pilot/during the series.

That means that by all accounts, u could say that pilot Avocato is Little Cato's bio dad. But also

Grandpa Cato: You took everything from me.

Pilot Avocato: Who the heck are you?

That's so silly lol

Although I didn't know it was something that was thought up after the pilot!

Pilot Lil cato looks nothing like pilot Avocato lol,

I guess he took after his mother if that's the case 🧍