#i know that's four tags but. I dont know enough people well enough to know if theyre okay with tags or not

[shikariix]

Make a poll of 5 of your fave characters, tag five mutuals - tagged by @afh48 tysm 💕

Trying to make a varied mix of characters from different media to enrich the enclosure of my followers (✿◡‿◡)

As for tags, I know some of y'all have already been tagged but I'm doing it again - @peanutdream @snowonebutyou @pulledpurplecurtains @acri-aurora and anyone who wants to do it?? no obligation if you don't like tag games!!

[mx-paint]

The funniest comment I've gotten on tiktok to this date, on a video about a lady dumping her fiance because he beat her kid, was a guy saying I was going to go to jail for not getting beat as a kid amd that I'll have a meltdown the first time someone sets a boundary with me.

[prettyboykatsuki]

give yourself up, my treat | h. sakura

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader (referred to as girlfriend, descriptions of makeup and nails), implied to be shorter than sakura, omorashi, piss!!!! / wetting, humiliation, lots of crying / embarrassment, praise kink, somewhat public, femdom, depictions of subspace, d/s dynamics, like... soft loving sex as aftercare but this is honestly pure kink lol sorry, 18+

✮ wc ; 4.6k (i dont want to talk about it man)

✮ a/n ; this is piss kink. like. full stop. full stop omorashi. im warning you now that this is piss kink to the highest extent. srry sakura . finally let him top and it was after making him piss himself. rip

also!! while sakura is describing how shameful he feels he is doing this all very willingly. they have a safeword but sakura does not feel any need to use it.

✮ synopsis ; sakura lets you push his limits any way you please.

Sakura listens to everything you say. Like some kind of moron.  

Can’t help himself really, as much as it irritates him to admit. 

That’s always just been his instinct. Any time he finds himself in unfamiliar waters, he leans into that as much as possible. He’s survived a long time by trusting his intuition and a longstanding distrust of other people. It speaks a lot to someone's character usually if Sakura is even mildly inclined to trust them.  

He isn’t sure if it’s his intuition that drives him to follow your order without question, but it’s a strong enough pull he finds he can’t help himself even when he so, so badly wants to resist it.  

It’s not Sakura’s fault. It’s not really yours either.  That’s just how you’ve always been. How its always been. 

(Once, well before you and Sakura were a thing - Nirei had made an observation about you. Called you disarming. Suo laughed and agreed before adding that it felt a little misleading to describe you that way even if it was true. 

 You had just moved into the area after a disciplinary case in your hometown. You’d beat up another student who was bullying your friend, got expelled and moved out on your own after the fact. Cut ties with your family and everything.  

Despite the general air of mystery around you, there was  something about you that Sakura felt pulled him in. For some reason, you never triggered his fight or flight even when it was way easier to do it. For some reason you made him comfortable, always knowing his limits and rarely teasing him even for laughs.  

An undeniable magnetism to you appealed to him a lot more than it repulsed him. ) 

Over the years, Sakura has mulled a lot over your relationship. How you approached him at fifteen with a cool, carefree attitude that left him uselessly infatuated against his will. How you took your time in getting to know him for years. Later, how you confessed. Roped him into the relationship so seamlessly that by the time things happened for real, Sakura felt totally unnerved by how inevitable—how deliberate you were about it right from the start. Something that occurred to him too late.  

You’ve always been good at placating his many troubles too, even when you’re the cause of them. His lingering paranoia, his serious attitude, his inability to deal with compliments. You handle all of it with such grace it’s like those parts of him don’t even exist. Maybe it’s because you went through something similar to him, but you understand all of it well - though you dealt with it in the opposite way he does.  

Your carefree acceptance has proved to have a good influence on him. He’s less anxious and more relaxed around you. He always feels like listening to you, and always does - and after dating for four years, he’s rarely mad about it.  

Sakura always listens to everything you say because some part of him is conditioned too. His body does it instinctively, placing more trust in your words than he does in even himself. You’ve built that in him. 

As troublesome as you can be, you’ve yet to lead him astray.

Embarrassing as it is, a long relationship has instilled a sense of obedience  to you and his… love for you that runs deeper even than his intuition.  

That’s why, when you tell Sakura to— 

“Drink,”  

—he does it without hesitation.  

He drinks another cup of tea in one gulp before wiping the corner of his lip as you smile at him very briefly.  

He no longer feels a clear sense of how much time has passed, despite the fact he’s currently very sober.  

Cramped against the wall, Sakura’s head spins as you lean your weight against his other side and chat with Umemiya over drinks. An airy smile on your lips and gentle look in your eye. Damn you.  

His chest heaves as the thick, warm air enters his lungs and stifles his already difficult breathing further. Dim lights overhead cast shadow underneath the table and only barely illuminate the topside well enough to see the remnants of a long night. Empty glasses, canisters of beer and shochu as well as a variety of small plates cleared of everything apart from stray crumbs littering its surface.  

Around him, his loved ones part into small groups and chat amongst each other. Sakura has no idea what the topic of conversation is anymore. He hasn’t heard anything other than the sound of your voice in his head for an hour and hasn’t spoken up for the last thirty minutes. When someone tries to call him into conversation, he mumbles something before you speak for him and no one bats an eye at this for which Sakura’s fucking grateful.  

It’s so hard to think of anything when his bladder feels this painfully full.  

His head is filled with white noise, red flush crawling even further along his neck until it dusts along his nose - up to the ends of his ears. Under the table, your fingers drift subtly to his inner thigh and push inward. Sakura winces, biting back a pathetic little whimper and glaring at you weakly from the corner of his eyes.  

This is torture.  

You aimlessly draw something in his thigh with your fingers before smiling gently as you nudge another cup of lukewarm tea his way. Leaning in while your conversation partners are all distracted by ordering something else, you whisper into his ear. The light warmth of your breath makes him shake, painful pressure in his abdomen steadily increases as the liquid starts to travel down his throat. Your hand is careful as it slides underneath his black t-shirt and lightly grazes his skin. It’s dark enough to not be obvious. The dull ends of your manicured nails scratch lightly at the soft, lower swell of his belly before the pads of your fingers push hard into his core.  

His body gives into the pressure, eyes widening with fear at the sudden sensation. He barely stifles a gasp before shooting you another mean look you easily ignore.  

“Haruka,” You hand him his cup again, filled to the very brim with liquid. “Drink some more tea,”  

He grits his teeth. 

“Fucksake. I can’t—I can’t.”  

You raise an eyebrow as your hand smooth down his thighs. Your lips quirk up into a smile so smug it nearly rocks him out of his anger.  

“Is that right?”  

A test. He’s always welcome to give up. He knows that. He knows that if he does you won’t hold it against him either. You want him to do it because he wanted too, always. He hates that about you.  

Sakura grinds his teeth and takes a hold of the ceramic tea cup, knocking the lukewarm tea back in one go. Your expression morphs into something pleased and endeared from the corner of his eyes and his heart starts to flutter. He isn’t sure if he’s thankful or not for all the people around, for the environment.  

It gives you free reign to lean even further into him and whisper the words he’s been desperately aching to hear all evening.  

“Good boy,” You hum, careful and deliberate. A innocent kiss gets placed on his cheek, the lipgloss dampening his skin. “You’re being so, so strong.”  

The words him melt him unwittingly. From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, the rush of affection threads through his nerves and unwinds his sense of danger further. Enough that he might slip completely. He has to hold it until the clock hits midnight. Just until then. You’ll take a cab home and Sakura will relieve himself finally, finally. It’s seventeen more minutes until he can go home and empty his bladder. He can’t screw up now.  

This is the first time you’ve made Sakura hold in public. You’ve always been considerate enough to do it at home where the safety net of your mutual understanding and familiar bathroom are there even if he fails to keep it in. Even if he pissed himself in your living room or in your bedroom - it can be dry cleaned or tossed. Most of all there’s no one to explain it too.  

In public it’s different. He could pretend that he’s  drunk and while it wouldn’t be less fucking embarrassing  - at least it’s understandable. Sakura is sure that’s part of the reason you chose a place like this do to attempt such a public play. To give him the out, just in case.  

But regardless, the shame and humiliation of not being able to hold it in front of everyone he knows is a threat. It’s just so goddamn embarrassing. So horrible and awful. The anxiety makes his stomach churn but he can’t focus on a damn thing else.  

He has to go. He has too.  

He always whines about how much he hates this but you both know he doesn’t entirely mean it. It’s not that he likes this miserable sensation, as much as he likes how you get off on it. How sadistic it turns his unusually kind and light-hearted girlfriend.  

 You’ve always relished in Sakura’s shame like the freak you are. Pure pleasure on your face and absolute adoration as you watched Sakura break apart slowly and guide him through it with hushed whispers. Watching  the light color of his jeans or joggers stain dark from wetness or watch him be jostle around enough to almost piss but not enough to give him actual relief.  Teasing him until he trickles and makes his own boxers damp enough to be uncomfortable—to be cognizant  of the fact he’s pissed himself helplessly while not being able to take care of it on his own. Not without your explicit permission. 

You’ve done all sorts of play together. Usually, you have and indoor date and movie night where Sakura knocks back a few liters over of water over long few hours and gets increasingly desperate. And you get him hard during that, always sure to tease him until he’s just on the edge of wetting himself.  

You always shower together afterwards. Yet, you don’t hesitate to touch Sakura’s soft, piss soaked cock with reverence either way. Quick to praise him, whether or not he’s failed or succeeded in holding it. Despite how shameful the whole thing is and how much he protested it at the start  - some part of him deep, deep down can admit he sort of likes it. Or at least, he likes the pleasure he gets from you when you take the reigns.  

It feels good, though he really resents even kind of admitting that. The relief from holding and holding and holding and then finally getting to let go is just as good every time. Pissing himself always feels good in the moment.  

And you’re always so aroused by him after. He likes that way more than everything else being frank. Likes the way you get wet over his humiliation. Likes how softly you stroke and lick his cock when he’s all cleaned up, eyes lidded and full of pure love as he gets to cum too  - another reward for holding in so well. He loves the warm whispers of good boy against his neck and shoulders when you finally sink down on his length and the way you feel when he holds you in his lap and buries his face into your shoulder.  

All of that feels so much better when he does what he’s told and he likes listening to you. So even though it’s usually against his best interest in conditions like these - he bites his tongue and continues to drink until he feels like he’s sating your appetite, silently ignoring the ballooning in his bladder only getting worse with each pass of breath.  

And he drinks, and drinks, and drinks until the clock hits midnight.  

You’re deliberately brutal in the last seventeen minutes. In that time, you make Sakura down at least another half liter of liquid and continue to tease him all the way until the izakaya closes. He’s antsy by the time the night ends. His friends slowly disperse outside and go home in different directions until it’s just the two of you waiting for a taxi to come pick you up.  

Sakura is counting the fucking seconds.  

He needs to go,  but he doesn’t want to piss himself in the taxi. His legs are crossed, shifting his weight anxiously as you hold his hand and smile plainly like nothing in the world is going on. 

Another two minutes until the cab arrives, another twelve to go home. You hum to yourself as you reach your hand up and caress the back of his neck,  palm brushing the trimmed hair and sliding slowly over his rapid pulse and flush skin. With no one around, you don’t bother hiding your intentions. You slide your hand just into the waistband of his black jeans, just above his soft cock.  

His brows raise high as your eyes lock.  

And then you push at that angle - push hard enough he feels a slight trickle. Not enough to stain his light-wash jeans, but enough that the fabric of his underwear is noticeably damp. Sweat forms at his temple from a mix of stress and shame - eyes screwed closed as he curses. He’s afraid to look at you but does anyway.  

You’re smiling just as warmly as he thought you’d be. His voice cracks under the weight.  

He thinks this is the hardest it’s ever been. The pressure is so much stronger when there’s stakes and Sakura is mildly horrified. And he has to go so bad, so bad he can’t think of anything else.  

“Fucking—,” He crumbles, feeling shameful and red faced and lightheaded as he admits this to you with trembling lips and terrified eyes. “Dunno if I can make it home, I need to - “  

You stand in front of him and push up slightly to kiss him. It’s a nice distraction. Your soft, sweet lips salve his nerves just a touch. You gaze up at him lovingly.  

“It’s okay baby, promise. Home soon.”  

The words of protest die on his lips. Despite being taller than you, Sakura finds himself feeling so incredibly small. So incredibly helpless and so, so dependent on you in that moment he hardly knows what to do with himself. It usually takes him longer to get like this. You’re the only that can bat for him if he really does wet himself. He’s doing everything you say, being obedient, chasing after the familiar high of the aftermath and it’s sinking him so deep into that headspace. He feels suspended in air.  

He grips your hands a little tighter and you smile at him. His brows furrow.  

“Wanna hold me a little baby? On the way home.”  

He nods feeling as tender as ever and you nod back, kissing his temple.  

“Mm. Good boy. It’s okay.”  

He hides a whimper into your hair as he hugs you from behind, a light laugh leaving your lips when he does. Two minutes feels like two hours.  

The taxi pulls up not long after. You open the doors for him and talk to the driver, giving him your address. Something plays on the radio that gets turned up to give you and Sakura some room as the driver makes way. It’s a short, short drive over to your apartment. Just seven minutes.  

As soon as the driver steps on the gas, Sakura turns his gaze on you pleadingly. And you smile at him, shifting to lay a little against his chest. He buries his face against your shoulder in measured breaths as your other hand comes up to play with his hair.  

“You’re extra whiny today,” You whisper without any malice. A doting edge to your words. “Can’t help it can you? We’re almost home, baby.”  

Sakura bites back another whimper, mustering as much sense into his speech as he can though he hardly wants to talk. Hardly wants to think, either.  

“So close, Haruka. Just a little more and then you can go.” You nudge him with your nose “Such a good boy.”  

“So full,” The words come out hot, on a heavy breath as his hand grips your waist tighter. “Can’t—no more,”  

“Shh,” You soothe. The shared affection between you looks like normal PDA through the reflection in the drivers mirror and it makes him feel even more self-conscious. “Three more minutes, Haru. A minute or two to walk in. Two minutes in the elevator, and another two to get the door unlocked. Nine minutes. You’ve held it for so long. I know you can hold it in a little longer.”  

He grits his teeth and closes his eyes. “Tell me I’m good.”  

“So good baby.” You nuzzle against the crown of his head. “So, so good.”  

The next few minutes feel like a complete blur.  

One more light until the driver pulls into the parking lot of your complex, politely wishing you goodnight before pulling away. Sakura nearly has to lean on you as you walk into the empty elevator and take the trip upstairs. His grip on your hand is tight as you lead him through the corridor, grips even tighter as you fish your keys out from your purse and unlock the door.  

The sound of the lock undoing makes Sakura feel so relieved. You usher him in carefully, his thighs tight and knees nearly buckling from the pressure of his bladder. He’s so full it’s painful, so full it aches and it’s so much he can’t think about anything except that and how much he wants to be free from it. He's delirious and sweaty. He just needs to go so badly.

He tries to rush to the bathroom but jostling around while he walks doesn't work out well.

A looming sense of panic sets in immediately.. He knows what's coming instinctively - the uncontrollable relaxation on his muscles when his body has reached his limit. He looks up at you pleadingly, though he’s not sure what he’s even asking you for.

He can’t think.  Barely moving as something starts to unfold inside of him, crashing into him all at once.

It’s obvious that he’d start to feel the urge to piss when he's comfortable at hom, finally in his own space but— 

He shakes his head, looking at you with blown out eyes.

“I can’t,” He hiccups as he shuffles closer and closer to the living room, teary at his lashline Trying his best to get to the bathroom and failing. “Can’t make it to the—fuck, please, I can’t. It’s.—It’s gonna, I’m gonna  -“  

Your eyes widen in understanding as you crouch just at the entrance alongside him, petting his back.  

“Oh sweetheart,” Your voice is the softest, sweetest sound he’s heard all night. “Poor thing. Shh, it’s okay baby. Let go. It’s alright, I promise. You did so good.”  

Something in him...breaks. Shatters.

His eyes go wide before they blur with tears and piss leaks from between his legs unwittingly. 

Sakura is reduced down to sobbing. His whole body shudders so hard, he’s knees buckling under the weight as the pressure finally stops. He can’t help but listen, even though he’s so, so ashamed of himself.  

Fuck. Fuck, it feels so good.  

Sakura finally, finally lets go. He crumbles under his own weight, shrinking down to his knees as he feels it soak through the layers in a hot rush between his legs. His clothes dampen and drench as he lets out long breaths. You card your fingers through his hair as he sobs through the endless stream. It feels like it’s never going to stop. He can’t open his eyes to look but he can feel the puddle forming underneath him, how it soaks into his jeans and shoes and makes them wet. How ashamed and humiliated he feels being completely unable to stop himself from wetting himself. It flows and flows and flows, testament to just how much he had to drink.  

The entirety of his pant leg is soaked with his own piss and mess. Embarrassment makes him curl up as he’s unable to stop once he starts. It goes on for so long. But it feels so good to let it out. The sheer sense of relief is more of what’s making him sob than anything else.  

Piss trickles down his legs as he heaves through deep breaths and short sobs. He feels your hands cup his face as you bend in a squat, unconcerned with the way it splashes against your shoes or tights. When he finally gets his vision back as you swipe his tears away, you’re looking at him with such reverence he wants to cry all over again.  

“You did so good baby,” You praise, warming him. You kiss him on the lips first before brushing against the crown of his head. “So good. You’re so perfect. Let’s get you cleaned up, hm? Give you you your reward.” 

He sniffles as he stares at you. “You’re such a damn pervert.”  

You laugh a little. “Mm, that’s true. Sorry, baby.”  

__  

Clean-up is always less of a hassle then he expects it to be.  

Maybe because you have a routine for it now, but it doesn’t take very long at all. You do most of the heavy lifting during it which only worsens the feeling helplessness Sakura has been experiencing for the last few hours. He doesn’t make any effort to get away or out from that headspace, though it dies down with time. The promise of a reward has been the only thing keeping him level for hours now and he’d be damned to let it all go to waste after he worked so hard.  

After a long, warm shower and change of clothes  - Sakura finally gets what he wants more than anything.  

Affection and attention.  

In the safety of your bedroom, Sakura feels particularly floaty as he holds you in your lap. Lazy and worn out, he nuzzles himself against your neck as he feels your naked torso squish against his. He’s too embarrassed to tell you verbally like this that he loves you and hopes the nuzzling does the job for him. 

Your nails feel good on his scalp as you card them again through his wet hair. Your skin smells nice too, and you’re soft and warm. The mellow thump of your heartbeat soothes him as you shower him in endless praise. It’s usually impossible for you to do this. Only when he’s bone tired like this do you get the chance.  

Too embarrassing to let you do it unless he’s worked hard for it like he did today.  

Sakura feels his length slide against your pussy and lets out a soft noise. You’re always so wet during this kind of play. It makes him feel wanted in a way he finds cringeworthy and doesn’t dare voice. Still, he doesn’t mind the feeling - aimlessly sliding his hips up and against your slick folds with a huff.  

You do him the favor of moving. Copying the gesture by sliding yourself up and against his cock without penetration. His fingers tighten on your hips, cock painfully sensitive as he whimpers. Pre-cum leaks from his tip, weepy and spent and red as he humps against you even harder - lost in the sensation.  

“Wanna cum like this Haruka? Don’t need to ask permission.”  

“Nghh.”  

He nods wordlessly as you grind yourself down harder onto him. His tip passes over your clit enough times to make you sigh pleasantly, and that sound drives him over the edge. Thick ropes of white cum spills against your soft pussy as Sakura moans and shudders  violently. Despite how close you are, he can’t help but feel like it’s not close enough.  

Maybe you sense it, because you do him the favor of sliding yourself onto his half hard cock without so much as another word. It’s still not enough for him, but it sates him better than before at least. He wraps his arms around you hard and squeezes tight. Just for a little while.  

He scowls a little as he looks up at you, sobering up enough to form a sentence after spending some time hugging you. “Have you cum yet?”  

“Don’t worry about it, baby.”  

“Shut up,” He replies with no bite and a scowl. Another flush crawls across his face. “I can make you feel good too.”  

You raise your eyebrow. 

“Sounds like you’re declaring war not trying to give me an orgasm. I’m glad I made you feel good though,” You add cheekily. He flusters immediately, instinctively getting aggressive but not wanting to shove you off of him even as you break out into a fit of laughter.  

“Fuck off. I d-don’t feel good doing that weird shit with you. I only do it because - “ 

You interject. “Because you love me? That’s a better reason to you? How sweet Haru.”  

He frowns deeply.  

“Be quiet, you—don’t put words in my mouth, damn it.”  

“Pfft, okay. I’m sorry. I hope I’m not pushing you too much.”  

He huffs a little, pouting as he goes back to pressing his cheek to your skin. His voice is a touch softer than it was before.  

“I don’t do things for bullshit reasons. Stupid.”  

“I’m glad, then. Even so, you had a tough time today hm? So I’ll let you fuck me as much as you like. Just do whatever you feel like.”  

“I wanna…return to the favor or whatever.” He says after thinking on it. “Just… wanna make you feel good too. Like….” His voice goes small “…You make me feel. Or whatever.”  

You smile at him. He can feel it, not see it. He’s avoiding looking at your face since he’s sure you’re all goofy and loveydovey.  

“The floor is all yours. No rush though okay? I like spoiling you and we’ve got all night.”  

Sakura scowls, casting his gaze down at the bedroom floor. “….I love you.”  

You smile and press another kiss to his head. He feels so content he wants to die. Your reply comes easily anyway.  

“I love you too, Haruka.”  

[https-milo]

DABI INSTA PLLSSS

yeah ok guys I hear you

DATING DABI INSTAGRAM !!

details!

instagram posts w/ comments while dating dabi!

a/n OBVIOUSLY these are just pictures off of interest, reader can be however you imagine !

(guys im going to be so honest, I haven't really watched MHA past like season four so ermmmm yeah!) (this one was actually kinda cute, like I wanna make a spinoff oneshot :(( )

main m. list / instagram m. list

blah.blah.y/n · 71w

33 likes

liked by: himiko.v4mp, tomura.shig, twicenottwice

blah.blah.y/n he said "I can do this without a lighter" but I didn't want our apartment to burn down <3

dabi wow you have no faith in me. kinda thought you loved me.

blah.blah.y/n dabi yapper, yapper. you know I love you, I just don't love paying for repairs xo

himiko.v4mp good call!! :33

blah.blah.y/n himiko.v4mp thank youuu!! <333

tomura.shig euh you two make me sick.

dabi tomura.shig watch it.

dabi · 67w

7 likes

liked by: himiko.v4mp, twicenottwice, stainismyidol, compressed.marbles

dabi look what her psycho ass got me

tagged: blah.blah.y/n

blah.blah.y/n literally be quiet. you love that shirt and mug.

dabi blah.blah.y/n doesn't change the fact you're crazy.

blah.blah.y/n dabi crazy about you 😽😽😽

tomura.shig kay why ess

blah.blah.y/n tomura.shig someones a little jellyyyyy

blah.blah.y/n · 65w

29 likes

liked by: tomura.shig, himiko.v4mp, big.sis.magne, twicenottwice

blah.blah.y/n my sister trusted us with watching my nephew. safe so say she picked the right people :,) <3

tagged: dabi

dabi i've never been caught lacking like this.

blah.blah.y/n dabi yap yap yap. you look so cute

offical.hawks blah.blah.y/n yeah dabi, you look soooo cute

dabi offical.hawks actually kys, birdbrain

offical.hawks dabi only if you'll help me

blah.blah.y/n offical.hawks GET YOUR OWN MAN YOU BITCH.

himiko.v4mp you guys should have one ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

dabi himiko.v4mp dont give her ideas.

blah.blah.y/n dabi rude. but as much as I would want one, neither of us are home enough to take care of a baby + ur job would make it dangerous

dabi · 60w

8 likes

liked by himiko.v4mp, tomura.shig, twicenottwice, big.sis.magne, compressed.marbles

dabi after a really long, long talk with y/n and shig, I've decided to leave the LoV. It's been fun and, even if I hate to say it, I'll miss you guys. In other news, my girl is pregnant so yay

tagged: blah.blah.y/n

blah.blah.y/n :( ilysm you dont know how much I appreciate you

tomura.shig whatever. be safe and let me see the baby when it's born.

blah.blah.y/n tomura.shig AWWWW I ALWAYS KNEW YOU CARED!

tomura.shig blah.blah.y/n shut up.

himiko.v4mp we're gonna miss you patchwork :((( I wish you and y/n well!! (I better be the godmother)

dabi himiko.v4mp ill miss you too shit head

blah.blah.y/n himiko.v4mp obviously youre the godmother!! my fave future auntie <33

big.sis.magne take care of yourself. don't let y/n do too much work, you brat.

dabi big.sis.magne yeah, yeah. I hear you.

s.todoroki um????

blah.blah.y/n s.todoroki unc shoto 🙏🙏

fuyumi.todo how is touya the first to have kids.

dabi fuyumi.todo tf is that supposed to mean.

n.todoroki IM GOING TO BE AN UNCLEEEE you better be treating y/n well 😤😤😤

blah.blah.y/n n.todoroki dw natsuo, i keep my man in check !!

blah.blah.y/n · 2w

28 likes

liked by: himiko.v4mp, tomura.shig, fuyumi.todo, s.todoroki, n.todoroki

blah.blah.y/n its been a while!! me, touya, and our precious boy are doing better than ever <3 thank you guys so much for all the support this past year and so. Even if he won't say it, touya is grateful. (p.s. you guys don't always need to spoil our son)

tagged: touya.todo

touya.todo sappy on main

blah.blah.y/n touya.todo 🤩 shut the fuck up 🤩

himiko.v4mp anything for our angels!! (+ touya)

touya.todo himiko.v4mp everytime we interact, i get the urge to relapse my killing sobriety

fuyumi.todo ahhh im so glad you guys are doing well!! i love you three 💕💕

s.todoroki did you guys get the packages I sent?

blah.blah.y/n s.todoroki yes sho, all 5 of them

tomura.shig good to see you guys alive and well.

blah.blah.y/n tomura.shig stfu, come visit your nephew

tomura.shig blah.blah.y/n ...coming

rei.himura my beautiful son with my amazing daughter-in-law and my adorable grandson... i hope you guys will visit me someday

touya.todo rei.himura of course ma

blah.blah.y/n rei.himura we'd love to! Our baby would love to meet his grandma <333

© https-milo. please do not repost, steal, copy, or modify my works!

Thank you so much for reading <3

[satoruhour]

Helllooo!!!! I hope you're doing well<33 I'm not sure if you're taking requests so this can be taken as a random rant as well. (I'm in my exam week-depressed-stressed era lol) but is it just me Or the animated version of choso and the mans voice actor just doubled his hotness!?? Hence why me is here to ask if you could do a choso street racer au, could be anything from him meeting at a race or him taking them drifting? Idk but I just need more racer choso au's😭😭😭

LUCKY DIME

a/n: oh no my love i hope your exams went well and that you’re resting comfortably now ❤️ OFCCCC i planned to write a racer!choso for so long i just didnt have any motivation / tagging @screampied

wc: 3k

warnings: racer!choso, reader is ‘dating’ a weirdo, fem!reader, threat of sexual assault (from weirdo guy), threatening harm, flashback, unsafe driving tendencies (dont follow them in this fic lol pls drive safely), semi-public sex (parking lot), car sex, slight nipple play, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, finger sucking, implied multiple rounds and p -> v sex later on, n*sfw under the cut

choso hasn’t always been open about his origins — moving from the shimotsuma district to shibuya just two years ago in need of quick cash to send back to his struggling mother. it was a hard decision on both ends, with his mother advocating more for him to leave for a better life than the one she could offer. he acquiesced with a promise to earn enough to send back to her every month in return for the secret stash she provided for him and that promise meant everything. he was going to get money no matter what.

even if it meant meddling with the local yakuza, doing petty little tasks of collecting money, escorting the people important to the oyabun to their meeting places, being on lookouts while gambling and prostitution happens indoors. choso would never write back to his mother on what he’s been doing to get so much money, but if he’s able to send a hefty amount back to her on every 29th, he’s satisfied.

that is until he’s met with a couple arguing as they walk along the alleyway, creating such a ruckus that choso’s sure they could power the whole of shibuya — well, more of the man, anyways, saying something about racing and cars that he’s not even sure he catches on.

“well, if you just listened to her and opted for a flat-plane rather than use a cross-plane, maybe you wouldn’t have lost the race!” you’re throwing your hands up, struggling to walk behind in these new heels you bought while you navigate the dark alleyway. for a boy who’s expressed interest in you, he wasn’t doing well in trying to keep you one bit. you’d say he’s rather annoyed that you know so much about cars, trying to genuinely help him while he just sees it as attacks.

“yeah, well, if you kept your mouth shut, you wouldn’t have embarrassed me about losing to noritoshi.” you roll your eyes, unaware you’re passing a dangerous area with dangerous activities behind the door choso was guarding, nor do you notice the way the bodyguard perks up at the name of noritoshi, who sounds awfully familiar.

you scoff, “trust me, you embarrassed yourself the moment you tried to challenge the dude,” it was meant to be a harmless comment; noritoshi could never measure up to the famous four, but he practised his drifting hard enough and put in the hard work, stayed humble. he was everything that your “man” wasn’t, and it was only deserved that he didn’t win. ultimately, you didn’t expect much from a man in the illegal racing scene who only cared about who had the nicest engines and paint finishes.

“what’d you say?”

choso keeps a close eye on the both of you.

“it was nothing—” you sigh, reaching out to grab at his arm to get him to stop shouting so loud when you notice the person standing in front of a shady door — twin pigtails hairstyle with a dead look in his eyes and a tattoo across his nose, dressed up in a suit. it was scary enough walking through a dimly-lit alleyway, but your fear heightens when your eyes fall upon the surroundings of ashes of late night campfires, dried blood along the walls, and used condoms on the floor.

“no, no, tell me what you said, just so i know that i heard you right,” your “man” insisted, stepping up so close to you that your nerves were on high alert from the proximity and the possibility of that someone just a few feet away inflicting harm on the both of you.

“it was nothing! i just meant that you didn’t have a chance against noritoshi from the st—” it’s like you hit a sensitive nerve, because the next thing he’s doing is grabbing your wrist and dragging you along, not aware of how choso perks up even more, ready to leave his post. it borderline hurts with the way he grasps at your skin, paired with the discomfort of your heels and outfit, you can’t just wait to get home and rest up.

“ohh, so that’s what you said!” the man continues to tug you, not heeding your pleas for him to stop, “might as well just leave you here with the yakuza to see whether you stand a chance.”

that’s what the man was guarding . . wait.

a shout wretches out of you when you notice there’s no shadows at the door that’s lit simply with fluorescence at the same time the mysterious man has one hand each on your arms.

“who are you—” your “man” has the gall to speak first, shocked at the stronger grip of the other when he tears the fingers away from your wrist before stumbling back. the mysterious guy simply tugs you into his hold, levelling the other with just a stare from his eyes that’s got him babbling and stuttering in fear. you hate to admit that once the man beside you speaks, your body curls into his side — it’s like a smooth cup of coffee that you gravitate towards.

“do you want to repeat what you just said?” choso puts you behind him as he approaches the other, one step taken while the cowering one takes one step back. “because i can always open the door i’m guarding and let them take care of you, instead.”

“t-that wouldn’t be necessary—” he’s adamant on his threatening, taking out a flip phone and dialling numbers one by one, no doubt the number of his boss. he doesn’t even look at you, eyes trained on the pigtailed man as he continues to dial the number and pressing call. if choso’s being honest, he’s about to shit himself just as much, never having called his saiko-komon personally before so he only fakes the number, thanking the heavens that someone somewhere decided to call his boss’ phone just at the same time.

they all hear it, the familiar nokia ringtone from behind the door, but in choso’s ear, all it says is that it’s an invalid number that garners no answer. he talks over the operator’s voice anyway.

“yeah, i need you to take care of this guy. just outside here—” that’s enough for him to go running away, puddles splashing and his voice crying out for civilisation, although you’re not too happy yourself, afraid for your own fate. kept like a pet for the yakuza? made to work for them to pay off this small helping hand? commit—

you sit up from the hood, “you called a fake number?!” it’s hard to say when that fateful meeting turned into this over the past few months, asking choso to recount the night the two of you met out of curiosity when you realise that your yakuza-accountant boyfriend had dialled a fake number the whole time.

“i had just joined! i wasn’t going to phone my boss . .” he sheepishly says with head turned to you, and while you’re giving him brutal smacks on the shoulder (“what! if! he! hadn’t! run! away! were you going to let a phone operator beat him up?”), you’re still thankful he decided to step in at the right time even if his heroic act had been brought down a notch by this revelation.

it’s then that he asks about the whole racing thing you were involved in but you’re taken aback by the fact that he wasn’t going to make you do anything in return. even if the alley had boasted its dubiousness, you realise than the man standing in front of you was not much older than you, a childish sparkle in his eyes when you entertained the question. with a random number in your phone, it was up to you if you wanted to text him, but after a few races, you think that he was just too handsome to pass up.

choso picked up racing and drifting fast, joining your small group of friends of yuji, megumi and nobara who were all rising up the ranks. it was difficult, knowing the famous four, but it didn’t hurt trying to build a reputation in the underground scene. he practised around the docks, crashing into crates, sending the seagulls flying, and almost sending your scrap car over the edge.

“tokyo is pretty at this time of night,” choso mumbles as he sits up, too, liking the way you scooch closer to him on the hood of his 1967 Ford Mustang.

“tokyo is cold, i’m lucky i’m not freezing to death.” you tease him even when you’re wearing his warm jacket, squealing when his cold hands make it under the jacket and your shirt.

“how are you cold, that jacket’s wool!” he nestles his face into your neck, freezing nose touching the skin there and you giggle, trying your best to push him away. choso says that, but he’s happy to see you in his jacket while his arms tingle with both frost and lovesickness. “you’re just extra sensitive to the cold.”

before you can retaliate, though, he’s pulling away from your body heat to look you in the eye; it was a wonder he even got you, a girl who’s just so passionate about cars and who taught him everything he needed to know about it. six months down the road, he’s writing about something other than living paycheck to paycheck again, getting in some extra money from racing as well.

“wanna drive?”

you grin, hopping off his hood before jumping into the car beside him and he only laughs at your enthusiasm, hopping in after you and starting the ignition. you wish it was like this before every race: you beside him in the passenger seat as he gets ready to race against his opponent. the rev of the engine always excites you, knowing you contributed to the many modifications of his Mustang. but choso always says it’s dangerous for you — so you’re left to watch from the sidelines.

but now, as choso drifts down the mountain, you can’t help but stare at him as he changes gears every few seconds, hair blowing everywhere from the wind outside before he reaches the base and races off into the main road. you’re shouting in excitement, music blasting loudly from the cassette player while you dominate the streets at night.

“d’you think i can break 190, sweetheart?”

your jaw drops, “while drifting?” he nods, “you’re insane . . yeah, do it.”

choso’s laughter feels infinitely heavenly, stepping on the accelerator on a fairly empty road. he’s familiar with the traffic of the roads too, so at 4am, it’s basically deserted when he speeds down the gravel while he tries to break the speed limit. you feel on top of the world, a pretty road full of green lights on every turn; there’s a couple of sharp screeches from his tires as he navigates shibuya.

“hear that increased throttle response . .” you whistle when he presses his foot into the accelerator again, Mustang speeding off into the streets while you look over to him: hand holding the stick shift and one hand on the wheel. he’s as pretty as you remember him six months ago and his beauty truly hits you in the moment that you unconsciously rub your thighs together.

“all thanks to you, baby,” feels like the final blow, not knowing the effect he has on you until you’re waiting until he slows down to place your hand atop his on the steering wheel. there he lets you steer where you want to go, face melting into recognition at the place you’re taking him to.

“you’re nasty.” in the abandoned car park, he giggles when you’re shushing him as you make your way to the backseats, levelling him with a stare that begged him to hurry.

“yeah . . whatever, you like it.”

choso grins, switching off the ignition and climbing in after you, making you forget all about the cold season of japan in mere minutes. his lips collide with yours and his body naturally pushes yours to the leather seats, driving you crazy just with his mouth. his hands make quick work of your skimpy outfit, inching past your tight halter top and to your tits. you gasp softly into the kiss.

“may i?” even after all this time, choso still asks for permission, pulling down your top and bra when you nod.

his mouth is both warm and gentle when it meets with your nipple, tongue swirling around the bud and eyes looking up at you just to relish in the hooded lids and soft moans you give him. his free hand fondles your other, squeezing and playing, rolling the bud between his thumb and forefinger.

“just s’soft . . always,” he hums into your chest, kissing you down bit by bit and making you wait for it with each teasing journey he makes. there, he manoeuvres himself onto the floor, kneeling on the carpeted finishing as your knees hook onto each shoulder. the car is filled with your laboured breathing, watching him slowly undo the straps to your uncomfortable heels. it’s excruciatingly slow, pulling at the strings and removing each shoe before his lips leave fire along your shin, up to your thighs and to your pulsing core.

“choso . .” you whine, hips bucking off the leather.

all he does is laugh, hands spreading your legs before he’s licking his lips at the mess you made in your skirt, panties and back of the fabric soaked right through. your boyfriend pulls you forward with a certain fervour that makes you yelp and you match him with a nervous grin as he tugs away the underwear and marvels at the arousal that just sticks to your pussy, pretty and dripping right in front of him.

you have no warning before choso indulges himself in your cunt and you cry out in surprise, hand tangled up in the mess of his hair that falls from his pigtails. his warm tongue laps at your clit like a man starved, slurping up all of your arousal into his tongue. the cold weather is just the cherry on top, cold wind wafting through the walls and the windows, making you extra sensitive.

“c-cho—” you hum, one hand lost in his black locks while the other clutches tightly onto the seats for any sort of anchor while choso only pushes his face further in between your legs. he can feel your pussy clench around nothing, switching between sucking and flicking his tongue with a relentless pace that threatens your sanity. “t-too much . .”

all he does is laugh into your centre, eyes flitting to meet yours while he continues his ministrations, arms wrapping around your thighs. choso moans at how good and sweet you taste, a curious hand moving from your legs right to your hole where he plays with your folds. gently, he pushes past your walls and you whimper from the intrusion, clamping down around his finger.

“relax, darling, i got you,” he softly says, relaxing his pace just a bit as he starts to thrust his finger. while slow, his tongue doesn’t stop, however, still continuing to make the lewdest noises.

“pussy so damn sweet,” he groans, nuzzling his face right into your sloppy core before teasing a second finger; it’s easy to slip in but he still warns you wordlessly, inching them right in until they reach the knuckles, “and so tight, too—”

the car is filled with the smell of sex, the sounds of your pussy and your endless moans as choso starts to pump his fingers in and out, reaching so much deeper than any of your toys can and stretching you out just right. your hips buck uncontrollably as you feel that coil in your stomach, knowing that you were only going to get even more of this before choso properly fucks you — but it’s all he promises, that to make sure you’d cum on his fingers and tongue thrice before he even thinks of railing you like you deserve.

“c-choso, your fingers—!”

“yeah?” it’s breathless, bottom half of his face all soaked and wet, but he goes right back in.

“mmfuck— cho, cho, p-please . .” your words are jumbled up, babbling through your teeth while his fingers gathers all of your juices, “i’m g’nna—”

choso thinks you’re just perfect like this, moaning as much as you want in his Mustang and spread out just for him to eat. he cannot keep his eyes off you, curling his fingers just a bit to find your sweet spot as he flicks your bundle of nerves as his eyes stay on the way your lips part for little pants to escape. your eyes have fluttered close by now but he doesn’t mind as you continue to push his head towards your cunt.

“cum on my fingers, my love,” the other groans, words muffled a little, “cum on my tongue like a good girl.” 

“cho— f-fuuck . .” you writhe around on the leather seats as you reach your peak, voice descending into a silent scream while your jaw hangs open. at his peripheral he can see and feel your thighs tremble while you chant his name like a prayer, over and over until you think your voice is hoarse. his seats are wet, no doubt, and you wince seeing your cum decorate the leather, but choso quietens your worries as he leans up to give you a kiss. you can taste yourself.

“taste good?” you’re ruined despite it being your first orgasm, answering half-heartedly before slumping, a soft moan leaving you when he removes his fingers and strings of your arousal stick to each digit. his hand naturally gravitates towards your mouth, fumbling with your lips before he pushes in — distracted, he takes the opportunity to latch his mouth onto your cunt again and you mewl loudly.

“that’s just the start,” choso grins, laying a long stripe up your pussy and groaning softly at the way your tongue swirls over his fingers, “i’m sorry in advance . . hope you’re able to get out of bed tomorrow, baby.”

[delimeful]

Really? You don’t find passive aggressive comments, such as your tags, do be impolite?

And how, exactly, is an ask button (which YOU enabled) that is commonly known to be used for requesting stories on Tumblr from writing pages impolite? Are you new to writing Tumblr? What do you think a majority of writers on Tumblr use that ask button for?

I’ve been a follower for a while but I’m pretty dissapointed tbh.

Anonymous asked: I noticed a reply from @/gstash So let me address that as well. No, of course I don’t expect everything immediately and for free, and I initially requested this story over a year ago. I also spent over $50 being subscribed to Lime’s Patreon specifically for this story, but I had to stop due to low finances. I was just trying to check on when it may be up soon, but I felt the response was rather rude.

(the added slash is mine, i didn't want to inadvertently @ anyone else in this debacle lol)

this is gonna be my final word on the matter because im sick of getting home from work to asks like these. anything else is gonna be deleted. feel free to go ahead and use your actual blog to reply instead of anon if you still feel that strongly about it.

i dont think my tags weren't passive aggressive they were just plain statements. no, i don't think it's impolite to express a boundary irt people asking me for updates. your indignation about this reflects on you, not me.

to clarify, badgering me for updates (verbatim: "Could you please please please post chapter 7") isn't impolite, just irritating. it was the decision to send another ask chiding me for my response that was impolite. kind of a dick move, as most involved in the tumblr writing community know. i genuinely feel sorry for the writers you follow if you genuinely only see their ask boxes as an opportunity to pester them.

i'm disappointed too, anon. i hoped that maybe keeping calm and sincerely explaining myself would be enough to prompt you to respond with empathy in kind, but instead you doubled down.

it seems like there's been a misunderstanding in regards to my patreon; there is no tier that ensures a specific chapter of a fic is updated within a specific time frame. that would be a commission, which is explicitly listed as a reward for my $30 tier, because those take a lot more time + energy for me.

my $12 patreon tier offers early access to my writing, and the ability to request future chapters be moved up on my to-do list, through polls + priority continuation requests. i can't guarantee any specific chapter update in a month, and i'll explain why.

currently, i have over 50 total WIP fics being worked on. each month, i get around 25 chapter update requests. even assuming that each chapter is 2k, my usual minimum chapter length, i would have to write 50,000 words every single month. if i had the capability for that kind of regular output, i would be churning out books like stephen king instead of constantly struggling for my usual monthly 10-15k like a chump lol.

in essence, don't subscribe to my patreon for a specific story unless you know the next chapter for it is already up there. which it is, because i eventually got to your request. and it'll eventually be up on the blog for free. and during the months you spent subscribed to my patreon, you received at minimum tens of thousands of words of content.

finally, an earnest request: please stop acting like twelve dollars is an exorbitant fee when i'm literally making pennies per word written. like, i could have worked a single 8 hour shift at mcdonalds in texas for minimum wage instead and i would have ended up with $8 more than you paid me for four months of many hours of dedicated work.

(not even a joke: 7.25 x 8 = 58.)

in conclusion, i am a human person with feelings, just like every other writer on this site. please take a moment to remember that when sending asks in the future

[ottosbigtop]

Thinking abt trolls 3 and why it picked up so much traction compared 2 the other 2 movies. Like technological advancements aside I think the main thing is just the character lineup.

Movie one was mostly branch and poppy. All the kidnapped trolls operated as One entity really so it’s not like u could particularly??? Care about them too much. Bridget and Gristle were really really fun but the villain wasn’t anything particularly special or noteworthy judging by just how little people. Talk about her. OH and also creek was there (literally forgor im rereading this for typos and adding this now) but like. Oh no the guy who showed up for like 5 minutes is a Bad guy and im supposed to care about the quest to save him mostly just because theyre telling the audience they should care because Poppy cares . But theres just not a lot of setup (and Creeks just not that. Interesting?)

Second movie had considerably More bangers and was definitely going in the right direction character wise. But it had the Opposite problem with wayyy too many guys that were really interesting and not a lot of time to do anything with them. You get King Trollex’s intro, Biggie, Cooper and Prince D and their parents, Delta Dawn, and Allll the bounty hunter trolls, PLUS Barb and the rock trolls. Barb was definitely a prime example of a major upgrade from the movies, having a villain that the audience actually vibed with and u could Tell by fan reactions I think. (Parb sweep) But there was just. Sooo so much, on top of the lore dump and a plot that you really had to get cool with really quick to get invested in. theres a bunch of new trolls and these strings that are definitely super important promise (lie)

The third one feels like they finally like. Know what theyre doing. With their own universe. No big lore dumps, theres not even any Explanation for what Mount Rageous is, they just introduce you to it and the Rageons with confidence thru Velvet and Veneer and expect you to get it. Plus, theres still a lot of characters, but theyre much more tangibly connected now. All the brozone brothers are well established and have preestablished relationships with each Other so even if we dont get much time with them it doesn’t feel like theyre that out of place. It still requires some suspension of disbelief vis a vis “Branch had Four super secret brothers hes Never mentioned,” but they make it work and frankly, the set-up is a lot more easier to get invested in than “secret magical strings that Invented Magic I Guess.”

And with Brozone and Viva theres a connection To the main characters rather than just being tag-alongs for tag-alongs sake. They’ve all got their own niches to make them individually compelling but theres a connecting thread here so they still feel like they’re a part of the story. And they’re all there to do something!! And then Velvet and Veneer of course continue the vibe that Barb had of being villains with enough screen time and personality that you like them As characters and arent just viewing them as The Plot Obstacle. Which is cool i think. Overall i just think the third movie felt a Lot more confident to do what the fuck ever and thats Really good.

[omgwhatchloe]

why is the top post on my fav boys tag ai trash…

sean macguire modern headcanons to change that!!

-very firmly lives in the mansion with the rest of the gang and would never want to move out (like the marstons) because he doesnt want to pay bills

-took time and effort into decorating his room and even got lenny to decorate it too since he basically moved in. its filled with random ornaments, posters, cheap things from amazon and a huge irish flag over his bed. even if he didn’t resonate with the things in his room much, he would NOT have it looking bare.

-the worst for being on his phone constantly but wont respond to anyone but lenny or his da, not that anyone else is too keen to message him. his camera roll is also a mess off accidental screenshots and bad pictures of things he hasnt needed to look at in months. OCCASIONALLY theyll be a sweet picture of jack or lenny, but theyre buried so deep in his brain rot camera he forgets about them until a birthday or something.

-darragh always facetimes him at seans convience, so staying up late to speak to him. funnily enough, darragh knows tech more than sean.

“right, iv to go now da! where-how-”

“okay, sean…the red button. just click the screen-”

“i AM-" “and a red button-” “its this shite phone-" “ill just cut off…”

-buys cheap shit online as random presents for other people. lenny for some reason has a glowing turtle keychain…he doesnt have keys. abigail is plagued with random stuff he bought jack that the kid hasn’t bothered with in ages because he only cares about his ipad.

-is unfortunately subjected to being sent ‘relatable irish memes’ by many of the other members who just assume he relates and dont think twice. john sent him one of a “classic irish mammy” tiktok trying to be nice and it went like this

john: [video] lol i bet u went through this😂

sean: no cuz i dont have a ma john

there is also

mary-beth: [meme about growing up protestant in north of ireland/northern ireland that she didnt read hard enough]

sean: ?

mary-beth: Isn’t that how you grew up?

sean: im catholic and from the republic

mary-beth: ???

-related to the online shit one, he is a food hoarder. he is always ordering food from random sweet companys or just over spending in walmart then keeping it all in his room and barely eating any of it. it disappears because lenny steals it and eventually it gets left somewhere then put in the kitchen.

-he, along with bill, arthur and karen, is banned from a random bar and no one, not even those involved, has the slightest idea why. they just assumed it had something to do with a night out they can all barely remember and left it as that. sometimes he does wonder why it was just them four who got banned.

-has not got a drivers license, isnt planning on getting one, and drives the most in the gang because darragh taught him as a necessary life skill. has the least crashes but drives the fastest and most reckless. he is genuinely proud of how well he can drive.

[veronicaphoenix]

Her attention had shifted from the movie to my neck, where she was staring intently at a spot I couldn’t see. Before I could ask, her index finger found my skin and traced a tiny tattoo that was there. “Lia,” she said, reading the tattoo I had gotten years ago. “My favorite girl,” I replied, wondering immediately where those words had come from because I couldn’t remember intending to say them.

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: best friends to lovers, ptsd, therapy, Lia is on medication, a lot of angst but a lot of fluff, too. Noah and Lia are on dangerous grounds. Noah can't help but being a flirt. Lia is dealing with too many things and is very confused and feeling like shit. A lot of alcohol consumption that will lead to inevitable consequences. | Word count: 3.1k | Cross posted on AO3 | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised.

I had been in the studio for about an hour and a half, hashing out details of our upcoming tour and listening to Matt’s heated discussions over the phone.

The first hour was all about work, but then my thoughts drifted to Lia, as it had been happening very often lately. Before heading to the studio, I’d dropped her off at her therapy session, agreeing that she would give me a call once it was over so that I could pick her up and bring her here. But thirty minutes had passed since the session should’ve ended, and there was no call or message from her.

I excused myself and stepped out into the hallway to call her. She picked up on the second ring.  

“Where are you?” I asked, my voice edged with concern.

“Making my way home. To your home. Or mine. I’m not sure,” her voice sounded subdued, a common post-therapy tone.

“I thought we said I’d pick you up,” I said.

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just... I’m not feeling well,” a sob escaped her lips, small but audible. “I dont feel like going to the studio. I dont want to be cooped up within four walls again."

It took me a moment to think about what to say next, what solution to propose to her. I didn’t like the idea of her being on her own after an hour spent talking about her traumas, worries, and vulnerabilities.

“Where exactly are you?”

“Out on the street,” Lia replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty because she probably didn’t know its name.

“It will take you an hour to get back home on foot, Lia. At least.”

“I don’t care. I could use a walk around the city. It’s what I need. I feel…” her voice trembled, and she couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I can’t be okay knowing you out there alone when you’re feeling unwell. I’m coming to get you. Then we can decide where to go from there, alright?”

“Noah, I don’t want to keep burdening you with my problems. You’re already doing enough. You don’t need to worry so much about me, please. I’ll feel better in sometime. I have to take my next pill before lunch, I’ll feel okay after that.”

“Lia, if we have to have this discussion again, we will. Your well-being matters to me, and I’ll keep worrying about you until I’m an old grump. So, tell me where you are, and I’ll be there in less than fifteen. We can go wherever you want. The rest of the tasks here can wait. Besides, all Matt is doing is arguing with different people over the phone,” I pointed out, still hearing his voice through the door. I let out a sigh.

On the other side of the line, a mixture of tears and laughed escaped Lia, a sign of her acquiescence.

“Alright… I’ll send you the address. I’ll wait for you outside the Starbucks on the corner.”

“Good, grab yourself a coffee, and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay?”

She didn’t get herself a coffee.

When I pulled up at the spot, Lia was leaning against the wall between Starbucks and the 24-hour mart on the right. The beer can in her hand had probably been bought there. Before getting in the car, she took one last sip and chucked it in a waste bin.  The beer scent lingered as she settled into the seat, but I didn’t care. I reached out instinctively to her, running my fingers through her hair. Her eyes met mine, a bit downcast.

“Thanks for coming,” she murmured softly.

“Where to?” I asked, still inadvertently playing with her hair, that fell in soft waves over her thin grey jacket.

Lia shrugged.

I kept on checking on her until it was obvious that it wasn’t her best day. I thought of what to do, where to go. I dug into my brain until I remembered a place. We had been there before, but that was many years ago.

I started the car and veered away from the city.

“Where are we headed?” she asked, noticing we were going the opposite way of home.

“Surprise,” I replied with a grin.

Lia frowned.

“Noah, surprises aren’t really my jam right now. I want quiet and…” she muttered clearly exhausted, but I stopped her.

Her tired eyes and dark circles showed she hadn’t been sleeping well, and her therapy session probably didn’t help her current state.

“I know. You’ll like this one,” I told her. “Have I ever surprised you with something you disliked?”

I looked away from the road briefly as Lia hesitated, which prompted me to urge her to answer, even though I knew what she’d say.

“Never,” she eventually replied.

“Exactly. So, relax while I drive. We’ll grab some food on the way.”

We made it to Upper Franklin Canyon Reservoir in les than forty minutes. Since it was a weekday and just past one o’clock, the place was blissfully uncrowded. The parking lot was only occupied by two other cars, and as we stepped out, the refreshing scent of nature filled our lungs. Lia’s face lit up as she took in the surroundings, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

I walked around the car and offered Lia my hand, just like we used to when we were kids. She took it, and together, we strolled along the wooden path on the left. After a few minutes, we found ourselves at a spot by the river, sheltered by the trees and the branches above us.

I released Lia’s hand, allowing her to approach the edge and take in the serene view of the water and the ducks gliding peacefully.

“I thought you’d like this,” I said, staying a couple of steps behind her.

“Thank you”, she said, her voice barely audible over the tranquil sounds of nature.

“Maybe someday we can go back to the lake where we grew up,” I suggested tentatively, unsure of how Lia would feel about the idea.

For me, that place held memories of happiness, of being with her. It was the place where the troubles of the world had felt distant.

But perhaps Lia didn’t share the same sentiment. Maybe she didn’t want to reminisce about our childhood, about hers. Maybe she didn’t even want to hear the name of our hometown. She had made it clear a few nights ago when she confessed that the memory of our kiss had brought back many other memories that she didn’t really want in her head right now.

As I reached out to comfort her with a gentle touch on her shoulder, Lia’s hand grasped mine and pulled me close until my chest met her back. In an instant, I found myself holding her from behind, my chin resting atop her head. I felt her trembling, and a solitary tear landed on our intertwined hands, resting on her stomach.

“Lia…” I felt helpless in the face of her pain. I couldn’t bear to see her like this. But I had no idea how to ease her burden.

It was clear she was grappling with thoughts of Mitch. She was haunted by the scars he had left on her life. His actions had intertwined with the memories of her mother and childhood, and now those were huge stains on her heart.

“I’m just so tired of thinking…” she confessed, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “I just want to shut off my mind, to stop remembering, to stop considering if I should’ve done things different, if I could’ve avoided this… I just want a break, if only for a few hours…”

Unable to find enough words to calm her, I hugged her tighter, pulling her closer and resting my cheek against her hair.

“And you’re so good to me...” she said then, making me furrow my brow.

I understood what she was going through, but I couldn’t comprehend why she couldn’t accept what I gave her. I had reassured her countless of times that she was my priority, regardless of any other relationships or relatives I had scattered across the globe. Lia was everything. She had practically been my beginning, and she would be my end.

Suddenly, Lia slipped from my embrace, not to escape, but to face me and return the hug, burying her head in my chest.

“I dont deserve you,” she sobbed.

“Says who, huh?” I countered.

“Me.”

“Well,” I lifted her chin with a finger, “you’re wrong, Lia Parker. So, get that stupid thought out of your head.”

With a hand, she rubbed her nose before sniffling and keeping her grip on me, her hands tied at my back.

“I want to do so much,” she began. “I want to write, and draw, help others. I want to be useful, make something meaningful. I don’t want to feel lost again.”

“You’re not lost, Lia. And if you were, I’d always find you.”

We stood in silence, holding onto each other, her body pressed to mine, the gentle breeze embracing us. Lia’s eyes sparkled brighter with tears, but I didn’t want them there. I craved her smile, the laughter lines around her eyes, the dimples and flush on her cheeks.

Lia was not a child anymore; she was a stunning beautiful woman whose past shadows lingered, echoing with the pain she struggled to silence. But despite the weight of her struggles, she was strong, and nothing could keep me from seeing that resilience that she refused to let be extinguished.

Yet, every time I looked at her in those quiet moments made for affection, I saw the little girl I had taught to play guitar, the one who had tried to teach me to make flower crowns, the first girl I had let sleep in my bed and the first to bless me with my first kiss.  

I couldn’t stop myself.

Brushing aside the strands of her hair that danced in the wind, I tucked them behind her ear and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.

She didn’t recoil or startle, but rather furrowed her brow and playfully protested, “Don’t be so sweet,” which only made me laugh. “Keep it up, and you’ll end up kissing me again.”

“Would you mind?” I asked with a grin. “Because I certainly wouldn’t.”

She huffed and swatted my chest.

“Bad boy,” she said, but then she nestled into my neck, finding a comfortable spot between my shoulder and chest. “When was the last time you hooked up with someone, anyway?”

“I honestly can’t even remember,” I admitted with a chuckle. It was the truth. “I might as well go celibate at this point.”

“Oh, sure,” her laughter reverberated through me, a beautiful sound that warmed my heart. “With whatever other books you must be reading about sex I doubt that’s something you would achieve.”

“Don’t underestimate me. I can read about sex and still be celibate.”

“Stop it,” she pleaded as her laugh increased. “I hope it’s not because of me,” she said next in a hushed, quieter, and serious tone.

“It’s not because of you,” I replied, though I wasn’t entirely convinced of that myself. “Don’t worry,” I said, brushing my lips against her head again. It felt comforting, her hair was soft, and it smelled so good. What wasn’t to love about this moment with her in my arms?

“I shouldn’t have let you leave the studio for me,” she continued, taking a deep breath against my shoulder. “They guys will hate me for keeping you away when the first show is just around the corner.”

“The guys understand what you’re going through and couldn’t care less if I’m in the studio with them today or not. I’m sure some of them are relieved not to have me bossing them around.”

“You are pretty bossy…”

“Hey, getting sassy again, are we?” I retorted, pulling away slightly to meet her gaze, which she tried to hide in my hoodie, holding tightly to my back to avoid letting me see the grin on her face.

Her laugh filled the air as she squirmed in my hold, and I couldn’t help but cherish the moment, silently hoping and praying that moments like these would bring some healing to her.  

Come afternoon, we settled into comfortable hours lounging on the couch, each engrossed in our own tasks. Lia was focused on completing song lyrics while I worked on my MacBook.

Eventually, we waved Jolly and Jesse off, who had their own plans for the evening. Jesse was going to visit his parents for his mother’s birthday and would stay with them for a few days, while Jolly was heading to Emery’s place after finally deciding to take things further in their relationship.

Lia and I couldn’t resist teasing him, a constant since the night Emery had stayed over and slept in his bed. While there was no 3am chicken wing date for me and Lia, it was clear that Emery and Jolly had hit it off, evident in their flirtatious interactions the next morning while prepping breakfast.

When Jesse announced he was leaving, Lia asked to check on the plants he had bought for his mom one last time. Jesse expressed his gratitude for her care of the plants since he had acquired them from the botanical gardens.

Once Lia and I were alone, it was already past seven, and we found ourselves back on the couch. Lia’s feet rested on my lap while I massaged her toes, watching another episode of Attack on Titan on TV as she worked on coloring some design on her iPad.

After the episode ended, I suggested Lia that we could video call Grandma. It had been a while since we last spoke to her, and we hadn’t mentioned anything about Lia’s situation with Mitch, only that they had broken up when things stopped feeling right. Grandma was aware of their relationship but knew little about what had happened later. Despite my efforts to downplay the situation when I spoke to her —Lia was in no condition to tell her—, Grandma always seemed to sense when something was going on. It didn’t matter how good I could pretend to make it sound as if Lia was fine and over it.  Even if she wouldn’t address it directly, she could feel when something was broken. And when she saw Lia that afternoon, their conversation shifted to a somber silence after the initial joy of seeing each other on the screen, and Grandma’s eyes grew teary.

Lia and Grandma had a special connection that allowed them to communicate without words, and soon, Lia was seeking comfort nestled against my shoulder, trying to hold back her tears.

To lighten the mood, I smoothly transitioned the conversation to our upcoming trip to Japan, scheduled for a month after our tour in the States. Grandma was eagerly anticipating our visit and couldn’t wait to have us in her little house in the village after our shows in four different cities across Japan concluded. I shared her excitement, looking forward to spend some time away from home and submerged in a different country of a different culture with Lia.

After our videocall with Grandma, Lia and I turned our attention to dinner. Given her low spirits, Lia persuaded me to order takeout.

With a tray loaded with Chinese food and beer, we headed to the studio, setting up the bed on the pull-out sofa and deciding to watch a movie while we ate. That night, after seeing how down she’d been all day, I couldn’t refuse her anything.

It was dawning on me that Lia was my weakness, and I feared there might be no turning back from that realization.

As the night went on, Lia’s mood seemed to lift. The alcohol played a part, but so did I.

We were snug while watching the movie, the empty tray now back in the kitchen and two more beers back with us in the studio, in our hands. Lia was practically nestled against my side, wearing nothing but one of my t-shirts that looked oversize on her and dark panties underneath. I noticed, but I kept that knowledge to myself.

One of my arms was draped around her shoulders, and she was casually sipping her beer as if nothing had troubled her earlier.

I realized I was starting to feel a little drunk when I noticed that Lia was already drunk.

Her attention had shifted from the movie to my neck, where she was staring intently at a spot I couldn’t see. Before I could ask, her index finger found my skin and traced a tiny tattoo that was there.

“Lia,” she said, reading the tattoo I had gotten years ago.

“My favorite girl,” I replied, wondering immediately where those words had come from because I couldn’t remember intending to say them.

With a wide smile, Lia shifted and straddled my lap, her hands landing on my shoulders, mine on her hips.

“I’m going to get another beer. Do you want one?” she asked, speaking as if a beer were candy and she were an excited child allowed to indulge in something sweet.

I made a face, letting my head fall back on the headrest of the couch.

“Come on, pleaaase!” she pleaded, starting to play with the short strands of hair at the nape of my neck. She was doing a pretty good damn job trying to convince me. “It’s just you and me tonight. Can we get drunk and have some fun?”

“We’re already having fun.”

She pouted, and I would have fallen to my knees had I been standing.

“Alright,” I conceded, dragging out the word and giving in to her.

“Yaay!” she cheered, hopping over my legs to get up and fetch another beer. “I’ll also get a bottle of water.”

As if that would make any difference…

When she returned, she had the bottle of water clutched to her chest with one arm and two more cans of beer in her hands. I looked at her disapprovingly, but I couldn’t say no when she gave me puppy dog eyes again.

Jesus Christ, what was that woman doing to me?

The second beer turned into a third, and the third, somehow, turned into a fourth.

By then, Lia was completely drunk, and me... I was drunk, too, of course. Some common sense remained, but I was starting to feel sleepy and a bit dizzy, and if Lia just looked at me with those big brown eyes again and asked for anything else, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second before giving it to her.

Author's note: for the ones that have been following this series since I posted the first chapter, which is actually chapter 19, you know what happens next 😣 but I'm currently rewriting it and I'll be positing it in a couple of days, which will finally mean I've completed Koi No Yokan :)

[thisisapaige]

❣️tag you’re it in the self rec tag game! fic writers dont talk about their wonderful writings enough, so rec your 5 favorite fics written by YOU & tell us why theyre your favorite, then tag or send this ask to 5 fic writers you love to keep the game going❣️

You know, whenever I get a question such as this, I'm like, "I've never written anything in my life." No thoughts, head empty.

Anyway, that's why this took me a week.

Something Blue (Modern AU, the one where Cas watches Dean marry Lisa)- This is my heart on a platter. I went to my best friend's wedding and it gave me Cas a lot of feelings. The split timeline was a challenge to write (like. whew did it cause me a lot of grief, haha) but it really made the fic what it is. (More people should read this one!! It's good!! It has a happy ending, I prommy!!)

Still Waters Run Deep (Canon Divergence after 15x08, the one where Cas was buried in a ma'lak box) - Holds a special place in my heart as it was my first DeanCas Big Bang AND I'm the lucky owner of the prints for the art in this fic (4 pieces! reafre did FOUR pieces and I got a few bonus pieces, too!) and they are beautiful. I learned a little ASL while writing this fic, too.

Non Solum (Fantasy AU, the one where Cas is a witch in the frozen north and saves a mysterious hunter's life) - I love fantasy. Love it. My favourite genre of all time. I *inhale* fantasy books. The art I claimed for this bang *spoke* to me. Also, I am genuinely and pleasantly surprised it did so well :-). Do not be surprised when more Fantasy AUs come from me. I love them. Love them. LOVE.

insid(de an)d outside (Alternate Season 7, the one where Godstiel starts falling apart) - I still think this is some of the best prose I've written.

Lavender Pines (Casefic set after 12x11, the one where Rowena fake proposes to Cas)- I am a genius for making Rowena and Cas fake married, actually.

(and now I'm sitting here like, only 5??? Anyway shout out to ghost Cas in Phantasma. He deserves love, too.)

[clatoera]

Always Remember We're Burned For Better Epilogue: I Vow I Will Always Be Yours, For We Survived the Great War

Here we are. The end of an era. I have..so much to say.

First of all..if you do not like the canon epilogue you will not like this. If you do not like the choices Katniss makes you will not make the choices they make.

Secondly...This fic took me exactly forty weeks to write. That is intentional, as forty weeks is the length of an average pregnancy is forty weeks. This is my baby. You have all travelled with me from the middle of my third year until the middle of my residency interview season. I hope you will continue to follow for what comes next, but this is my baby. Today I release her into the world for the last time, and I am incredibly sad about it. Thank you for loving her with me.

Third.. I hope along this journey you have grown to empathize with the four careers of the first Hunger Games Book. I hope you see them as the children they were, I hope you have even grown to care about them. I am a careers apologist (one of the OGs thank you very much) and I hope you have all opened your hearts to them, as well.

Finally.. thank you. I will never be able to thank you all enough for your endless support and comments and likes and reblogs and asks. Thank you to you all. I of course want to give shoutouts as usual. There are so many people beyond this list. Who I don't know well, or I don't talk to enough to want to bother them with a tag (like you @dukeysquid I dont want to bother you). But you are ALL seen. You are all loved.

I cant give one to the og, who has to keep her socials clean, but you know who you are. You are the first person I ever told about this fic, and have been around for allll the changes. Thank you friend.

@mollywog a TRUE og who has stuck around even though this fic is far far from her usual andher cup of tea. She's a real one. I love her. I thank you, friend.

@cyansadness another OG friend. I don't even know what you're into these days..but thank you for listening to the earlier iterations.

@bodyelectric77 a NEW friend, who has given me such insight on Enobaria and the older careers. Thank you for taking a chance on this fic which is not in your usual wheelhouse.

@crookedlyniceperson I am so sad for my last set of memes, but so thankful for the memes that brought us together. Thank you, and I cannot believe the insane AU in our DMs that I'm going to bring up after this immediately in the DMs. Thank you.

@clarascrabarmy ANOTHER OG who I always feel like i'm bothering, but I could COUNT ON YOU to read these when I was dropping them at 4 am when I was on night shift. I love you, and I thank you.

@lwveless my little college baby I dont know if you're even around but I wanted to give you love for loving Marvel with me.

@kentwells a TRUE BACKBONE of this fic. A sounding board of all my insanity. I want you ALL to know that the outcome of Glimmer and Marvel (Namely them not being back together) is entirely her fault <3 It was her idea and it is her fault. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Ultimately, I cannot thank @ohhowwehavefallen enough. In the last nine months you have become one of my legitimate besties. You have supported me here and in my actual life beyond anything I can put into words here. Our constant, non stop Clato aus and talks literally keep me going on my bad days. I love you. I thank you. And of NOTE: She is entirely responsible for the wedding rites of District Two. I struggled so much creating them, it took me forever to figure out and I owe the answer to you. I owe this fic to you. I love you. Thank you bestie.

Fun facts:

The kids at the end are not named because it is hard to name them but I have ideas <3

There are jokes for most of my friends here

The sequel is called Picket Fences, Sharp as Knives (High Infidelity, Taylor Swift)

Alright.

AO3

tumblr masterpost

Title from The Great War, Taylor Swift.

The End.

Thirteen months after the end of the war

“Clove, stand still.”  Glimmer clicks her tongue, hands tugging tighter the fabric at the small of Clove’s back for emphasis. “If you fidget I can’t get these buttons. I don’t know what I was thinking when I added them, knowing Cato’s probably just going to rip them off like a heathen–”

“Oh no he won’t, Glimmer, you have no idea how much he’s going to love it.” Clove assured, taking in the length of her body in the mirror. It was the first time she had seen the dress too, and unsurprisingly Glimmer did far surpass any expectation she had. “You missed your calling with design, seriously, this is insane. You made this?”

The ivory crepe fabric was fit like a second skin through her thighs, where it fell freely to the floor, even fanning out a little behind her. The trail end of the train had little windows of lace, with the entire trim a continuous border of hand placed lace appliqués. The top of the dress was similarly overlain with lace, a few pieces trailing up at her hips before coming to cover the entire top half of the dress. The thin v-shaped straps were made of the intentionally placed lace, and though the entire back of the dress was open from the middle of her back upwards, a couple appliqués seem to float along the top of the fabric. Even the open sides are overlapped with the ivory design. The most unexpected aspect may be the deep cut of the sweetheart neckline, and the large strip of open skin from her neck to midway down her sternum.

“Of course I made it Clove! It’s just for you! I even used the lace from that dress, like you wanted. I was worried I didn’t have enough but with the open neckline I made it work.” Glimmer hooks the last button with the use of her littlest finger nail, pushes herself to standing. “It’s going to be the only wedding dress I ever make, though. It’s an honor but I was so afraid of messing it up. Besides…everyone else is dead, already married, or not going to be.” 

Clove turns to the side, catching the back of the dress in the mirror so she can fully appreciate it. She could not, no matter even if she wanted, wipe the smile that stretched across her face. “I know you think the deep plunge is a lot, but I don’t want to ruin it with blood–”

“I know, I know, you District Two freaks have a fucking blood ritual.” Glimmer bristles, taking her hand to wipe at Clove’s side, to swipe away some of the golden glitter from her own dress that transferred in the hustle and bustle of getting dressed. “You know in District One we just exchange jewelry like normal people.”

“We do that too.” Clove teases, bringing her left hand up to wiggle her fingers in front of Glimmer’s face. There was certainly no lack of the jewelry aspect either, with a flashy, oval shaped diamond with the equally shining gold band that had come to live on Clove’s left hand. “And it’s not a District Two tradition, Glimmer, it’s a District Two Victor tradition. We are the only ones that are left– we’re also the only two victors who have ever married each other. We have to do it.”

Glimmer grabs at Clove’s left hand, running her thumb over the diamond with a reverence only a girl from One, especially one with no marriage prospects of her own, would manage. “I just want to know how he got it. The diamond mines in one have been closed from the war, this should be impossible to get. I’ll never get my hands on one of these, and my cousin worked in gemstone acquisition. I should theoretically have a whole closet full.”  

If she can smile any bigger, she somehow manages. Clove twists at the ring on her finger, exceptionally excited to add another band underneath in just a short hour. “He’s had it for years. From before the war, back before the Quarter Quell....he had it since the seventy fourth games.” 

“I don’t think anyone loves anyone else more than he loves you.” There is a wistful edge to her voice that Glimmer tries her best to tamper, though the loss of love still does not sting any less even now, almost exactly one year after the end of the war. “It’s extraordinary.” 

Clove grabs Glimmer by her wrists, wrapping the woman’s arms around her waist so they were half hugging, still facing the mirror. Glimmer rests her chin on top of Clove’s shoulder, careful not to disrupt the soft, free flowing curls that were still cooling at her shoulders. “Thank you, Glimmer.” 

Clove takes a moment to soak in Glimmer, too. She would have laughed, and maybe stabbed, anyone who told her two or three years ago that Glimmer Belcourt from District One would be standing here getting her ready for her wedding. And yet, here she was. 

Looking at their reflection in the mirror she could see there was finally a little bit more to Glimmer, far more like the girl she met in the capitol, and not like the starved skeleton of a girl she found in district thirteen. Her hair was perfectly curled and incredibly shiny. Her skin had the healthiest, most intrinsic glow to it, with the most beautiful pink flush in her cheeks. Even the gold shimmery ball gown– yes, ball gown– that she wore only added to the warm tones in her skin. Oh Glimmer, how she did indeed shine once again. 

“Glimmer? Why did you pick a glittery ball gown for a wedding in my backyard?” Clove raises a dark eyebrow, craning her neck to make eye contact with Glimmer directly rather than with their reflections. “It is summer, isn’t all that tulle going to weight you down.”

Glimmer cracks a smile– a genuine, gorgeous smile that Clove had not seen since a time before the war, a time before Glimmer’s heart was broken, a time long ago on a rooftop in the capitol– and gives half a shrug. “I don’t think I'm going to get many opportunities after this. I always wanted to wear one.”  She steps back, giving a little spin for Clove to truly appreciate her hard work on her own dress. It was solid gold, glitter covering every spot of the tulle underneath. The dress sat just off her shoulder like a princess, and truthfully the dress moved around her like something of a fairy tale. “Cash always got to wear big princess dresses in her interviews and parties and stuff after she won. I was so jealous, and when I won I was so so excited to get my turn. Cash was always in pink and I was hoping I’d get the same..they skipped the ballgown stage with me and went right to the– yeah. I just…always wanted to wear one. They never let me be pretty, it was always sexy and sultry and glamorous. I just wanted to be pretty.  And today is my last chance… Thank you, Clove. For letting me have this.”

Clove’s hand slips down to grab Glimmer’s and gives the softest squeeze. “You look so, so pretty. You look beautiful.” 

“You look beautiful, Clove. Thank you for letting me be part of this. Even though I am your only friend–” Glimmer teases, smile never leaving her face, revealing that it is truly just a joke.

“Oh way to ruin me trying to be nice,” Clove taunts, but turns to face the mirror once again. “Thank you, too, Glimmer. For all of it. The dress. Being here. Buttoning me in.”

“Of course! Now, I think I'm about done…oh! Do you need lipstick, I know you’ll just get it all over him, but–”

“Blood ritual, Glimmer.”

“Right. Freaks. Okay!” Glimmer reaches down to fan Clove’s dress out behind her, gently running her hand over Clove’s bare arm. “Okay. You look beautiful. Enobaria should be in soon to do your hair… I’ll see you out there.” She pauses, taking a moment to appreciate her months of hard work, finally coming to a head on Clove’s body. She lets out a content little sigh, approving of her work, approving of the little victor girl in front of her. “I’m just… really really happy for you, Clove.” She squeezes her arm one last time before slipping out the door, a flurry of gold and glitter.

Clove takes her final moment alone to look at herself in the mirror. She looks more adult than she ever has in her entire life, in a tight white dress, long dark curls free around her shoulders. It is different than any other time she has been dressed like this in her life. There is no Capitol makeup obscuring her freckles, no intricate twists and pins in her hair.  Notably, of course, are the faded scars along her shoulders, elbows, wrists. In a different world her scars would be wiped away, her skin unblemished and holding no evidence of the horrors she endured. Now her skin bears the proof of her survival. 

She had begged Glimmer to give her sleeves to cover them. Glimmer in return had insisted there just wasn’t enough lace for sleeves, and even if it were untrue, maybe now Clove could see that she was right to deny her request. 

Her moment alone is only brief, when the bedroom door in her usually untouched Victor’s Village house flies open again. This time, another blonde flurry of tulle rushes in, this one only half the size of the last. 

Cora rushes in, in her little white dress. It’s gorgeous, too, with layers and layers of tulle with beautiful hand beading on the edges that make her look like she wears snow covered rose petals. Glimmer clearly spent excessive time on this dress, too.

“What else am I going to do with my time?” Glimmer had asked when Clove insisted she didn’t need to go to all these lengths for them. 

Clove turns from the mirror to look at her sister in law, and with the girl’s ever increasing height she doesn't even need to kneel to hug her any longer.  “Oh you look like a princess, Cora.” She pulls her into her arms, leaning down to kiss the top of her perfect, ringlet curls. “An absolute princess.” She does crouch down just a little, holding Cora’s angelic little face in either of her hands to look at her from eye level. 

“Cato’s jeeeeealous I get to see you and he can’t.” Cora gives her a mischievous smile, one that Clove had seen on Cato hundreds of times and hopefully would see hundreds more. “You look soooo pretty Clove..” Cora reaches her hand out and gently touches the lace on Clove’s hip. “This is so sparkly.”

Clove puts her hand on top of Cora’s, squeezing so gently. “Glimmer really knows what she’s doing, huh?” 

At the mention of the blonde woman Cora somehow lights up even more. When Cora met Glimmer it was like the stars aligned for them both. Glimmer, who needed to see this beautiful little girl grow up safe, loved, and far from the grasp of the games and the capitol and Snow’s best clients. Cora, who thinks she has a real life princess in her family, to teach her all the things Clove never got to learn as an orphan girl. “She has a pretty princess dress, too, Clove.”

“You should tell her that, she’ll love to hear it.” Clove straightened herself, afraid to wrinkle the tight fabric of her gown. “Thank you for coming over to see me, since everyone’s probably having so much fun over with Cato.”

Cora gives a little half shrug, bouncing forward onto her toes before rocking back onto her little mary jane heels. “Marvel is lying on the couch saying he’s sick, and he won’t get up. Finnick is telling him to rally.. What does ‘rally’ mean, Clove?”

Clove’s eyes go wide, and she would not be shocked if alarm is written on her face. That is not something she was anticipating explaining to Cora for at least seven or eight more years. “You know, you should ask Cato when you go back, that sounds like a boy thing.” 

The little girl accepts that answer, and nods enthusiastically. “Okay! Oh! Clove! I have a present for you!”

“A present for me?” Clove kneels down to her height again, disregarding the fear over wrinkles and creases in the fabric. There was so much more in life than the perfect press of a dress. “That's so sweet, Cora, you didn’t have to do that–”

“It’s yours though!” Cora digs into the little pocket of her dress, fishing out a little silver pile that she holds out in the palm of her hand towards Clove. “You told me to keep it safe, see? Do you wanna wear it?”

It takes all in Clove not to grab the necklace out of her hand, to snatch it and keep it safe as soon as she recognizes what it is. She doesn’t have to, because Cora unclips it for her and gestures like she wants to secure it around her neck for her. With a nod, Clove pulls her hair out of the way, and blinks hard, willing away tears that would otherwise ruin the minimal makeup she was amenable to wearing. Clove runs the tip of her fingers over the script C, the sterling silver chain tarnished and worn, emblematic of over twenty years of wear. 

Clove pulls her in, both hands around her little shoulders as her hand comes to cradle the back of her head. “Thank you, Cora Jade. Thank you so much for keeping it safe for me.” She kisses the side of her temple as the door flies open once again. 

“Clove lets get this- oh! Cora. Cato is looking for you.” Enobaria warns before she steps into the room. “Something about getting to sample the cookies–”

“Bye Clove!” 

The little girl nearly runs out the door and out the door before Clove can process it, and she is left staring at the doorway where Enobaria enters.

“God damn, look at you Enobaria” Clove calls out, pursing her lips and looking her mentor up and down. Enobaria rolls her eyes but leans on the door frame. She’s opted for a well tailored black velvet suit, except that her skin is completely bare underneath the jacket that is held together with a single gold button. Her natural curls frame her face, tamed only by the gold victor’s crown around the center of her forehead. “You look hot.”

“Yeah, well, were you expecting me to be in a ballgown like Glitter, she looks ridiculous. I didn’t know we were playing dress up today.” Enobaria flashes her a coy grin, a grin that is no longer serrated like a shark, but restored to her natural, blunt smile after the war. No need to upkeep a defense when the threat is eliminated. 

“Oh be nice, she feels pretty, Baria. Let her feel pretty.” Clove warns, holding her hands out to take the bundle of flowers that Enobaria brings her in her left hand. “And it’s Glimmer, You really should know her name if you’re going to continue to sleep with her sister.”

“Chill, I know her name. And I'm kidding, I had to talk Cash out of feathers this morning. You’re welcome.” Enobaria’s eyes roam from her toes to the tip of her head and she gives just the slightest nod of approval. “You look like such a grown up.”

“I’ve been an adult for a minute, Baria.” Clove reminds her, but does turn her head to catch her appearance in the mirror once again. She feels almost vain for the way she keeps looking at herself, but if there is ever a moment to feel that, it’s now. “I feel like I wore a lot of dresses on the tour that showed a lot of skin, too-”

“And you were a child, then. A little girl playing dress up, even if you didn’t think so. Now, you look like such a woman. You are just beautiful” Enobaria comes behind Clove, and brushes her hair back off of her lace capped shoulders. She looks at their shared reflection a little longer, and Enobaria can’t help but imagine Clove’s mother would have looked all the same. 

“Noone uses that word very often for me, but you all keep saying it today.” Clove shifts the flowers in her hands– she isn’t entirely sure what they are but they are red and white and there is no rose in sight– and swallows her pride as she locks eyes with Enobaria. “You told me I was going to thank you, one day. Back when you told me you were pulling us from the same games. You said I’d thank you one day, and I guess that day is today. Thank you. For not letting us kill each other, or die together. Thank you for keeping me alive my entire life. In so many ways, I wouldn’t be here right now, if you hadn’t been there.” 

“Keep telling me I'm right, I like to hear you admit it.” Enobaria teases, but gently squeezes both of her arms. “I’m proud of you, Clove. Do I wish it were literally anyone but Cato, yes, but I'm still proud of you.” Before Clove can refute, she turns her away from the mirror and to face her. “I’m kidding. I’m not kidding about the fact that we all know you should have chosen something other than white to wear considering what you did on national television–”

“Enobaria!”

“I’m proud of you. I mean it. Now. Lift your chin.” Enobaria nudges the tip of her chin up with her knuckle, before reaching to lift the golden band of metal from inside her suit pocket. 

She centers Clove’s head, before gently and intentionally placing her well earned Victor’s crown along the top of her head. Once it is settled she pulls her loose curls to the front, untucking pieces from behind her ear. Once she is happy, she places her hands on Clove’s shoulders and twists her to face the mirror. “There. You’re ready. The last Victor of District Two..”

It had been a debate, how many of the traditions to follow. District Two had enough Victors that they had their own marriage traditions. It was questionable, if in a world without games did it really make sense to wear the crowns and say the lines? Ultimately they decided, yes. Because before they were here, before they were considered rebels, before they were even victors…they were partners. Partners who gave their entire lives to end up here. 

“Thank you.” Clove emphasizes again, nodding at herself in the mirror. The dress, the flowers, the crown… he’ll love it. “I think i’m ready.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you down there then. If you change your mind just say the word, we can sneak out the front.” Enobaria promises, stepping back, giving her one final look over before turning to leave. “Good luck.”

“Wait!” Clove freezes, suddenly overly aware of the pounding in her chest, the deafening sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. She has not done any of this alone, and she will not start now. “Will you walk with me?”

Enobaria pauses, and cocks her head as if she’s debating it before cracking a smile and holding out her hand. “Thought you’d never ask, kid”

Clove is unsure if she blacks out in the following moments or if time skips on her, but the next thing she knows is she is on the other end of a short aisle from Cato. 

Cato. Identical crown on his head, perfectly tailored black tuxedo clinging in all the right ways. She notices the white button down underneath is unbuttoned most of the way down his chest, and if she weren’t so aware of the blood pounding in her ears she’d make fun of him for it. 

She wants to kiss that absolutely infuriating smirk off his face, and she’s about to. When Clove looks up and catches his eyes with her own she is sure her heart stopped. She’s vaguely aware of Enobaria to her right, holding her arm and guiding her the twenty or so steps, but all Clove really can recognize is him.

She doesn’t absorb their friends line either side of the short aisle, in perfectly floral lined chairs. Johanna making a face, or Annie and Finnick waving with their baby. She doesn’t notice that Glimmer is sitting directly beside Marvel, her dress acting practically as a blanket over Marvel’s hands. Cashmere and Gloss are there, somewhere amongst the florals. She does not notice Cato’s mother in the front or little Cora in her lap. There are others– kids they went to the academy with, friends of his parents– but none of them matter, not now. 

All Clove knows is that the second she’s in reach of him, he grabs her by the forearms and pulls her into a burning, heated kiss with a hand on her face. Clove half heartedly tosses the flowers in her hands in the general direction of Glimmer, and grabs firmly on the unbuttoned edges of his shirt to pull him into her. 

“Hey! Not yet.” Brutus interrupts from his place at the head of the altar and the laughs of their friends pull them out of their locked embrace. 

Even when they pull away, his hands are still on her hips, holding her flush against him. “Hi.” He whispers, a boyish smile spread across his face, a joy in his eyes that she isn’t sure she’s ever seen. 

“Hi.” Clove whispers back, a heat in her face that she is all too aware of as she catches the way his eyes are trailing down the front of her dress and her body. 

Brutus must repeat himself once or twice before finally reaching out and breaking the reverie in which they stare at each other by nudging Cato’s shoulder. 

“For the third time…” He starts, and the distinct howling laugh of Johanna firmly plants them in reality. “I never thought I would be officiating a backyard victor wedding a year after a war ended the Hunger Games.” Brutus explains, before giving a jerk of his head to signal Clove to take a step back away from Cato, who is still holding her body against his. She obliges begrudgingly, knowing the moments they have left apart are counting down by the second. 

As Brutus begins to read from a long book of District Two traditions, Clove feels Cato tighten his grip on both of her hands. “You look incredible.” He mouths, and Clove can’t help but feel the blush rising to her face again.

“Like the lace?” She mouths in response, and sees the recognition fall over his face as his features soften just enough for Clove and Clove alone to notice.  

“Like I was saying.” Brutus raises his voice, once again snapping the two of them back into the moment beyond just themselves. “ In District Two, we are not known for verbal displays of love. We do not have deep professions of love through vows. This tradition is rooted deep in the history of District Two Victors. We are raised and trained in bloodshed. We are also aware of the vulnerability of allowing someone to raise a weapon against us, and trust them so entirely not to cut too deeply. This is particularly special for these two, for many many reasons. As all of us know, they are the only two District Two Victors to marry each other, and they will be the only ones to ever do so. What is most special, of course, is that these two were raised to be partners. I remember the day we paired them up, this giant monster of a boy and this feisty, scary little girl. They hated each other and then when they didn’t hate each other was when it became a problem for Enobaria, myself, and the other trainers. We made them too good of partners, because here we are today. What you’re about to witness is the blood oath of Victors. It is tradition to use their weapon of choice. Cato, will be first.”

Their hands fall as Enobaria comes and first, places the hilt of a sword in his hand, before slipping the handle of a knife into hers. Vaguely, Clove can hear Glimmer go “oh my god an actual blood ritual’ from her place in the front row of chairs, followed by a whispered “fuck I hate blood” immediately after from Marvel. 

Clove takes a step back, making room for the duration of the silver blade of the sword between them, and tilts her chin up to give him space. She does not flinch when the sharp tip slices through the top layer of her skin overlying her heart, she does not unlock her eyes from his when she feels the sticky warmth of blood pooling and dripping down the front of her chest. It’s not deep, but it’s enough to sting. Her eyes are locked on his, never once breaking when she feels his thumb wiping through the blood on her chest.  She feels like prey and a prize at the same time, with the dark look in his eyes locked on her. He breaks their locked gaze to look down at her hand, where he slides a solid gold ring onto her left hand, resting securely above the diamond she already wears. 

She does not even wait for instruction that she is next. She steps forward and the knife in her hand closes the space between them, and Clove cannot help but flick her wrist into the shape of a C as she slices into the skin directly over his heart. She hesitates, for only a moment, watching the blood run down the plane of his chest, before she too runs her thumb over the blood. Clove cannot get her hands to work fast enough as she grabs his left hand in both of hers, and works as fast as she can to get the gold band on his hand, to claim him as hers, hers, hers forever. 

Brutus is talking again, but it doesn’t matter. He’s got her by the waist, and she’s holding his face in her hands. She brings her bloodied thumb to his lips, smearing his own blood along his lower lip as he does the same to her. 

“I love you.” He whispers first, pressing his forehead against hers, pulling her body against his, taking careful care to only touch the bare skin of her back with his bloodied finger, not daring to stain the lace she wears. 

“I love you.” Clove responds, and is somewhat aware of Brutus in the background formally announcing them as married in the rites of victors. Cato Hadley and his wife Clove Kentwell Hadley.

 Her thumb hovers over his lip, before she threads her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re my partner.”

“You’re mine.” Is all Cato gets out in response before he crushes his lips into hers. 

The taste of blood and each other is familiar and enchanting and all exciting all at once. 

It tastes like victory. 

Pictures, dinner, all of it passes in a blur. 

It’s nearly night now, and drinks are long past flowing. Cato’s mother has taken Cora to Clove’s house for the night, allowing the adult behavior to come out in full force. 

Clove is pressed into his side, his arm around her hips, hand firmly grasping the top of her thigh, when the sun starts to go down and Marvel makes a point to gather everyone’s attention.  

“Hey guys, you all unfortunately know who I am. Noone asked me to speak, in fact Cato explicitly begged me not to this morning, and Clove threatened that if I did she’d cut off my-”

“Anyway!’ Glimmer interrupts, taking the champagne glass from his hand and holding it at her side and out of his reach. “I also was told not to do this. But I planned this whole thing, and so I think I can say whatever I want. Besides, you owe us this, because we did keep watch while the two of you fucked in the middle of the Hunger Games. Also, the world was convinced for a little while that all four of us were-”

Marvel interrupts before she can continue to ramble on.“Originally, we were going to do this separately. I was going to talk about Cato, she was going to talk about Clove. I’m sure no one's expecting Glimmer and I to be doing this together..this is quite literally as close as we’ve physically been to each other in months.” Marvel begins, and turns his attention directly to Cato and Clove. 

“What are they doing?” Clove gets out through clenched teeth, pseudo-rage flashing in her eyes. Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the pure joy she felt, but she couldn’t find it in her to actually be angry with them. 

“Embarrassing themselves.” Cato pulls her closer, and leans them back in their chairs. “What's the worst they could say?”

“Noone expected us to be friends! We all could have so easily ended up in the same games, all of us dead.” Glimmer begins, a giggle escaping her that had Clove not been with her all day, she would have assumed to have been nervous. But no, that was the giggle of a drunk girl, who had been drinking mimosas since sunrise, that is about to recount something horrendous. “But by all accounts..things worked out for us. The stars aligned, fate stepped in..whatever you want to say. And I know Clove didn’t like me the day I met her. I can’t blame her, I looked at her and said we should have a double wedding and look where we are! They’re married and me and Marvel here can’t look at each other for more than five minutes without one of us leaving in tears–”

“He was drunk crying about her this morning. He had three shots and went down, going on and on about how he threw away the love of his life.” Cato leans over to whisper to his wife, who whips her head over to look at him with wide, amused eyes. “Finnick was literally holding his head in his lap like..stroking his hair. It wasn’t even eight a.m. yet.”

“I heard about that… You need to teach your seven year old sister what rally means, by the way.” Clove admits, poking him in the knee playfully. 

“Well one of us wasn’t stupid enough to throw away the best thing we’d ever have.” Marvel gets out, and Clove gasps so loudly at his repetition of the words Cato just whispered that everyone whips their head around to look at her this time. “Anyway! Clove also found me exceptionally annoying, and it’s okay, everyone does!”

“But what Clove has never heard about, is this story. We met Cato during his tour, of course, and he was this cocky kid. We thought he was just a standard District Two victor, nothing special.” Glimmer goes on, this time bringing the glass she confiscated from Marvel to her own lips and draining it. Clearly, the slip from Marvel left her flustered, too. “But, then it was the seventy third games. And Cato would not shut up about how good this girl was. He never looked away from her on screen. He stole all the sponsors talking about how incredible she was. He thought he was being so nonchalant and sly about it…but we all knew.”

“And I remember getting a knock on my door in the middle of the night. It was Glimmer, but I was positive it was someone saying Clove died and that Cato was coming to kill us all. Because I knew, if Clove had died, every single one of us, our tributes, and anyone else he could get his hands on, we're going to be dead.”

“And then it was down to the final few. I remember him sitting on that on that couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together so so nervous. And she threw this knife and she missed and I saw the color drain from his face. The fear in his eyes when he thought you were going to die, Clove, I wish I could say that was the only time I had ever seen it.” Glimmer shakes her head, the curls in her hair starting to slowly fall and frizz around her face like a little halo. “But then she won. And most of us were there when it happened, most of us remember the way he jumped up. And Clove, without thinking, he pumped his fist in the air and he said “that's my girl.” And we had all known. But the look on his face..I’ll never forget it. That boy was so deeply in love, and today I am so sure he still is.” 

Marvel clears his throat, and it is clear from the way his face drops that there is a serious turn about to be taken. “I mentioned that we were originally going to speak only for one of them. But, it is a disservice to the way they love each other to do that. I went through the worst experience of my entire life with Clove, in the capitol, and Glimmer similarly can speak for what she went through with Cato. We’re so uniquely privileged to have seen the way you both love each other so deeply. Most of you know, or unfortunately were part of, the horrific things we went through in the Capitol. Clove…she had it worse than maybe anyone. We all know that Clove is incredibly stubborn, and incredibly strong. What I am unfortunately aware of, myself, is the extent of what was done to her. It is not my story to tell. But I know that all those fuckers wanted was to get her to scream, and she refused. She wasn’t going to give them that. The only thing Clove ever asked for, wanted, and she’s going to kill me for exposing this, but the only time I ever saw her cry in those entire months of torture…was Cato. It was towards the very end, and I was scared, truly scared, to know they had brought her to the point of crying for him even alone in her cell... because I thought that meant we were all going to die if even Clove was at her breaking point. There is a deep, deep, incredible trust and love between them, beyond anything I have ever seen.”

At some point Glimmer had started crying, because it is through heavy tears that she concludes her aspect. “We are so lucky, to be witnesses not only to today, but to the way you two love. Through multiple Hunger Games and forced separation and a war..there’s never been a moment where I thought of you as separate. You are always Cato and Clove. Please don’t kill me for saying this, but I mean it, when I say you are my best friends. I do not think I would be alive without the two of you feeding me and pushing to keep going. I’m also really really excited for you two to have babies for me to be Auntie Glimmer to, I’m already in my fairy godmother dress, so if you two could like…hurry up with that and maybe give me a girl in like…nine months I’d really love that, thank you. We love you guys.”

Marvel’s hand experimentally finds the small of Glimmer’s back, and she doesn’t flinch away. He grabs a champagne glass off a table and raises it infront of him. “To Cato. And To Clove.”

Glimmer interrupts with a smile on her face that juxtaposes the tears running over her cheeks “to Cato and Clove.”

When Cato turns his head to look at Clove, who’s curled into him, he notices the way her eyelashes are clumped and wet. “Are you crying?”

“Shut up.”  Clove warns, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her hand, before she more properly turns her body to fully lay against his side. 

Enobaria takes the moment, then, to stand up while the attention is still drawn all while drawing the attention away from Glimmer and Marvel, who seem to be heading towards the bar set-up together. She’s also clearly enjoyed her night, her jacket now unbuttoned (and missing the single button), the fashion tape underneath holding it closed, but more notable was the pink lipstick faintly visible along her neck and collarbones. 

“I..couldn’t pass up the opportunity to embarrass you.” She starts gesturing towards Clove. “As everyone here knows, I raised Clove. We can say I was a mentor to her, but in reality, I helped raise her. I met her when I was twelve, and she was two. Her mother was my mentor, and we all know that her mother is not here with us now. I only feel so inclined to do this, because of the fact her mother isn’t here to do so. I remember Clove as this tiny tiny toddler, about the same height as now. I remember the day her bitch of a grandmother dropped her off at my house to teach her how to throw knives. What she didn’t know until right now is I really had no idea, and actually had to ask Cashmere and Gloss how to teach her. But hey, clearly, I made her a victor anyway. And then… there was Cato. This little infuriating prick of a kid, who broke her clavicle the day they met. I knew he was going to be a pest in my life, ever since. They were the best partners though. They knew each others moves, their strengths, and their weaknesses. They were good and then when they were teeangers exactly how good of partners they were became all of our problem. Clove..she was traumatized. A dead teenage mother will do that to you. I was not worried about her…repeating…that statistic. Until fucking Cato Hadley won the games and came home a cocky Victo.  And then…I caught her sneaking out of his house the day he got home. I about killed her. I went home, and I called Cash, BEGGING her to help me figure out how to keep her from getting pregnant too. Cato, Clove, remember to thank Cashmere for all the years of risk free sex, later.” 

“Maybe she should also be thanking Cashmere for all the risk free sex, look at her right now?” Clove murmurs, and the shaking of Cato’s chest underneath her is all she needs to know he is holding back a laugh. 

“I was ready to kill Cato, because I was sure he was going to distract her from her last year of training. But to his credit, and I hate saying that, he pushed her harder than even I did. I remember telling him to back off, and when he didn’t, I was so hopeful Clove was going to get over him. Clearly..I had no such luck.” Enobaria gives a smile that is so soft without her filed teeth that it nearly does not look like her. “When she was in the games, and Cato and I went through the fear of losing her together…I decided he was okay. If she was going to pick one, at least he was a victor, too. And as much as I hate to say it..he loved her then, too. When they went into the quell..I knew they were not going to come out without each other. I wanted to kill them, and I do mean that literally, when I saw them covered in that blood and going into the cornucopia, but then…everything went to hell. I was in the dark about them the entire war. I did not know if they were alive, I did not know if they were dead, though I assumed that they were. I’ll never forget when one day, when she appeared on that stupid video and she looked..off. One of the worst moments of my life was when I heard her scream for him in the background of that video. Because I knew…I knew he was not there. I did not know if he was alive, but I did know that if he was, he was going to get to her and get her home. And he did. I cannot believe I am about to say this, but I am so happy to see you marry each other. I am also very glad it is now and not because you were seventeen year old teen parents. Above all else…I am so proud of you both. Cato…Clove..you are both my victors.” 

At the conclusion of her speech, Clove pushes herself up just in time to meet Enobaria half way as she leans across the little table to hug her. “Thank you, Enobaria.”

One of the biggest joys of their wedding is to watch their friends enjoy themselves. 

“Annie!” Clove grins, throwing her arms open to offer the redheaded woman a hug. “Thank you for making it, I  know it has to be hard with the–where is that baby of yours?”

“Oh, Glimmer has him.” Finnick explains, taking his turn to hug Clove as well. He nods his head to the corner of the room, where Glimmer is seated at a little table, gently rocking the three month old baby to sleep. “She also gave us the whole Aunt Glimmer Fairy godmother talk this morning.”

Glimmer is in fact swaying in her chair, clearly singing some song to the boy. The longing in her face is evident, even from across the room, from the way she offers her finger to the baby in her arms to how she holds his bronze covered head intentionally above the glitter of her dress so as to not irritate his baby skin. 

“I think she should just have one herself.” Annie remarks, leaning her head against Finnick’s chest. “I think she’s meant for it.”

“Yeah, well, she’s missing half that equation.” Cato recalls, pulling Clove’s back to his now entirely bare chest, his shirt having lost the rest of the buttons throughout the night. 

“I don’t think she will be for long.” Finnick suggests as Marvel settles himself in the seat directly next to Glimmer, reaching out to tickle the bottom of the baby’s pajama covered foot. Glimmer gives him a smile before redirecting her attention to the baby, but Marvel, oh Marvel never looks away from the expressions on Glimmer’s face.  

Johanna finds them as they’re sitting next to the cake, in their own little world, spooning bites of the confection into each other's mouths.

“Okay, Lovebirds, where are all the hot people for me to go home with?” She remarks, slamming herself down in a seat across from the two of them. 

“Nice to see you too, Jo.” Clove murmurs, wiping icing off the corner of her mouth gracefully. “I dunno, I bet Glimmer would be down.”

“Are you serious? Her and Marvel literally snuck off into your house fifteen minutes ago. I don’t want to get in bed with them.”  Johanna scoffs, shaking her head. “I thought Cato would have a hot brother or something here..”

“Wait Glimmer and Marvel did what?” Cato interrupts, holding up a hand to stop her from continuing with her subject change. “In our house?”

“Well, in Clovey Girl’s house I think. Marvel had a plate full of cake and a bottle of the good stuff in his hand too, like the kind of shit Haymitch used to hoard at the games…speaking of Haymitch! You didn’t even invite them? Miss Mockingjay I understand, but after all Peeta went through with us..” Johanna clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “Cold even for you two.”

“We did invite them, Johanna.” Cato defends, reaching behind them and getting another slice of cake for him and his wife– oh he could say it in public now— to share. 

“Katniss is still on District Twelve house arrest. Peeta didn’t want to come without her. He did make the cake though. That kid can bake.” Clove swipes her finger through the ivory icing, before dolloping it on Cato’s nose. “We tried.”

“Ugh, you two are so gross. I’m going back to the bar.” She pushes herself to a standing position, surveying the room before straightening her dress. “....congratulations, I guess.”

“Thanks, Johanna.” Cato calls as she walks away, before pulling Clove fully onto his lap. 

“We did it.” He teases her, pressing kisses along the juncture of her neck and shoulder, “You’re my wife, Clovey.”

“I’ve technically been your wife for years.” She turns so she faces him, her arm languidly draped over his shoulder. Clove strokes his cheek with her thumb, and flashes him a wicked grin. “Now it’s just public.” 

“Are we ever going to tell anyone we did this before?” Cato’s hands come to rest on her hips, squeezing, promising of what is to come later in the evening as he leans forward and once again starts kissing from her jaw down her neck. 

She lets out a delighted gasp at the feeling of his lips on her.  “Absolutely not. This is for them. That? That was for us.”

I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this. 

It is worth saying that life blooms through the cracks of a broken nation, love takes root in the rubble and ash. It is life itself, it is love embodied, that is a true pioneer species rising like a  phoenix amongst ash riddled towns.

It is the passage of time that lets life and love flourish in the new panem. 

It is friends in District One. Marvel who remembers the way cold aches in the very core of Clove’s body, and always has extra blankets casually lying out for her to take without ever needing to ask.

On a beach in district four, It is Glimmer and Finnick, watching her blonde little girl and his bronze haired little boy playing along the shore, with no care in the world other than their mission to find whole sand dollars and laughing in delight as hermit crabs scurry across their toes. Two children who, along with their siblings and friends, are free. Their childlike innocence intact, their bodies forever their own. 

It is Johanna in District Seven, who finds that she had more in common with career victors than she thought. Or maybe, Cato and Marvel just make her feel like a fucking genius when it comes to women, and thats good enough for her. 

In District Twelve it is a baker and an ex-revolutionary, who are never quite expecting for literal career killers to show up to a tiny little bakery on the edge of the seam. They come looking for cinnamon rolls and maybe tease Peeta a little too much about the status of his relationship. Peeta never turns them away (even if Katniss does pretend not to be in the shop that day, sometimes).

And in District Two. 

It is in the combined efforts of Brutus and Enobaria, in establishing a recreation center for the surviving children of Two. It is far from the training empire it once was, let there be no mistake, but it gives a playground to the ghosts of the victors they once were. It serves as a memorial of sorts to the nearly one hundred and forty tributes who did not come home to District Two.

Cato and Clove, above all else, are happy. 

These days, Clove does not have much use for throwing knives. 

The ache in her body, the sharp pain in her wrists simply isn’t worth it anymore. 

Clove Kentwell Hadley still never misses, but she is so much more than a girl with perfect aim. 

Clove is the friend of the only surviving victors, she is the sister to the most affectionate Hadley she knows. 

They are Aunt Cove and Uncle Cayo to the identical little daughters of their best friends, who wrap their tiny arms around their necks and smother them in honey blonde curls and pure, unfiltered adoration. 

She is half of the best dinner parties– Clove makes the best food, but Glimmer plans the best parties. (It’s a bold statement to call them parties when it’s the four of them and the only other career victors, but Glimmer won’t have it any other way). 

And she is loved. So, so, so loved, by the only man she’s ever trusted, wanted, and needed. 

Clove is no longer just the girl who never misses. 

In fact, three years after the end of the war, the only time Cato finds Clove throwing a knife is in their kitchen. 

Her only goal? 

Trying to earn the brilliant, infectious laugh of their blue eyed, blonde haired infant son in her arms. 

This is the life of a victor. 

The end. 

[future-boi]

Get To Know Me Tag Game!

Thanks to @mythical-bookworm and @alex-a-fans for tagging me.

tbh this is just a song rec list LMAO [easier to open in a browser fyi]

1) Spell your name in songs

Y'all get two for the price of one cuz I couldn't decide if I wanted to go with all non-English songs or not.

The non-English songs are labeled with 🧋 in case you wanna avoid 🤪

Warning: Most of the songs in english have swear words so... just in case u got kids or ur strict parents around LMAO.

⚡️ F: Fighter Not a Lover

aro/ace people gonna love that shit ^ + no swear words

alt: fml u fucked me up

⚡️ U: URARA🧋

It translates to 'Oo-la-la', which I now realize is the magazine Biff was carrying around in the second movie... this was unintentional and the meaning of the song is very wholesome, trust me

alt: Upside Down

⚡️ T: this was a demo for this one song...

That one's like 50% f-bombs ^ i love it

alt: Toxic but its NOT Brittany, B*tch 💅

The most aggressive entry on this list

⚡️ U: Up Up and Away

The only f-bomb is in the second verse

alt: Unmei no Roulette Mawashite 🧋

'unmei' means 'destiny' so you know I had to include it

⚡️ R: Raining in Manila (half 🧋)

Couple of dudes just vibin' out in the studio, what's not to love?

alt: RAHHHH

^im convinced this is what suburbanites see in their nightmares

⚡️ E: Electricity (half 🧋)

alt: Extensyon

Both make up the most WHOLESOME entry in this

⚡️ -(hyphen): Hatid Sundo 🧋

Baby. Baby boi. Baby. vibes ^

alt: Hell to Sell

EVIL. vibes ^

🚫🧢 I have a problem with tonal whiplash. Did I cheat and use the hyphen to include the most wholesome and cute song right before pulling out the lowkey most scandalous song in the list? YES.

Just realized it doesn't work as well if you can't understand it, but trust me. I mean just listening to its vibes is enough 😩

⚡️ B: Balik Sa Umpisa 🧋

Any song that samples/remixes 'Stand By Me' is a W in my book.

alt: Bodybag

I'm just self-reporting at this point.

Ok the rest are very wholesome songs I swear

⚡️ O: Oretachi Rookies 🧋

alt: Oh, Imagine That

ok this one's tied for most wholesome in the list

⚡️ I: I/Me/Myself

gnc/nb people gonna love this shit ^

alt: I Really Like You

that was a struggle, R is the top pick to check out imo. E, O and I are the wholesome ones with no swear words if u care.

2) Why did you choose your URL?

Its based. ..off the song in the musical. I got back into the fandom because of the musical so I owe it that much. 'boi' sounds more gender-neutral than 'boy'

3) What is your middle name?

That's a secret!

4) If you could be any mythical creature, what would you be?

Shapeshifter.

5) Favorite color?

Purple. Lavender/Periwinkle specifically.

6) Song you love right now?

What? 🧋 The amount of crackhead energy, but genuine emotion... AND AESTHETIC. it was literally made for me LMAO Ken is so aggro but hes singing about not littering. like why is he so intimidating-- but i support the eco-friendly king. but fr the song is about waving ur flag with pride??? PRIDE???? and they look androgynous asf??? whats not to love

7) Top four fandoms? (Current Fandoms?)

Back to the Future

That's it

jk uhhh, Invincible

Thats it, dont wanna get into past fandoms rn

8) Tag nine people

mf u think i know 9 people??

im playin, lemme tag some cool people... not that u have to do this, i just wanted to bother u 🤪 but feel free to do it, i wanna hear other music 🥺🥺🥺

⚡️ @maxintime LOVE UR ART STYLE. BEEN TOO SHY TO BOTHER U THO 😭

⚡️ @jowritesfanfiction my inspo, my density, ILY. Im never shy bout bothering u in my posts HAVE U GOTTEN THE RESTRAINING ORDER AGAINST ME YET 🤪🤪😭😭😭 ive tagged this mf in every other post istg

⚡️ @moth-makay ur great frfr 😭😭 all the hugs. r u gonna post more art??? cuz u shouuuld 🥺

⚡️ @bttf-dork ur name and pfp give comfy vibes??? its very endearing. dunno how to describe it, but i like seeing u in my notifs 🥰 bUT UR ART DOHHH. immaculate. underrated.

⚡️ @pepsifox88 i hope u continue to cook ✨ everyone go and GIVE THEM SUPPORT, I AM NO LONGER ASKING

and to the rest of u, thank u for liking a bunch of my work, whenever i see long lists of likes like that, or if i see ur name often 'nuff, i always notice 😇, i never know how to say thank you!!

@leftoverspagehhti

@karorurodriguez

@epikprinc

@mapleflavedpepperoni

@xmaster3000

@jayisnotdrawing

@jackofthecards

@ectojester

@cat0marble

Didn't include everyone, but just know that i noticed you!!! 💝

watch me get reported for harassment by all these people 😂

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Hey I love your art so much in terms of style and content. I found your blog looking through the armored core tag and I fell in love with how you portray those characters, especially in comparison to the rest of the fandom. Its very nice to see them portrayed as queer, non-white people who actually look their ages instead of being, IMO, aged down a lot. (especially with Carla) The outfits are really cool and stylish, and the character design and color on your spiderverse art (looking at you prowler art) is so so good.

My fiance and I trolled through all your art yesterday and it facilitated a really good conversation on how fandom perceives characterization in different ways and how different those perceptions are based on differing identities.

If you know the meme with the figure eating a mango messily on all fours thats how I feel whenever I see your art so keep it coming, I literally cannot get enough

first i just want to say that your message has made me smiled for a whole while now every time i remember it!

i think spiderverse has been really important to my improvement as an artist, because the time i spent studying the characters have given me a lot of practice in drawing more diverse features and how to incorporate it into my own style! i dont think my ac6 cast could have looked this cool if it weren't for my spiderverse hyperfixation lmao.

and well one of my main drive in creating my own versions of ac6 characters is that i dont really see any other versions that seem right to me, so i want to make one for myself, the warm reception it gets is certainly a nice surprise!

also interestingly enough this is not the first time someone has told me they look over my art with their significant other and have some good discussion out of it ... it really makes me day ... wow i create sth that adds to other ppl's life / experience ... aughh

[allthefoolishdreams]

HELLOOO hope you're well! 🍓, 🥤, 🌻, 🍄, 🔪 and ❄️ for the emoji truth or dare ask game? (i am getting to yours too! unfortunately i cannot see the second emoji you sent me, but i will answer the rest!) <3

HELLO!! 😊 Im doing okay!! Hope you are as well 🩷(I honestly don't remember what emojis i sent you so dont worry about it, when you post I'll let you know what it was) 💕

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

So I read fanfiction for awhile but I actually started writing fics in high school during my marvel phase and I wrote a lot but only posted some of my fics. Eventually I started venturing into other fandoms that inspired me enough to write and post. Finally ended up witing skz because the brainrot was so strong that i needed to write my own for them and here we are!

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

honestly i don't really read that much fanfiction (please feel free send me some recs i do want to read more) (i do have like so many open tabs on my phone of fics ive been meaning to read um. dont want to think about how long they've been there.)

but here's two fics i've read very recently and enjoyed:

next level by meloncafe (seunglix. where felix has a massive crush on seungmin and has an anonymous rival in an arcade game that he befriends via text while trying to form a friendship with seungmin, its so fun and cute!!)

(won't you) tell me you miss me by bumblespook (jeongsung, they were roommates but have moved out to live on their own while mutually pining and neither will admit their feelings)

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

@isjeonginsoup 💕 hope you don't mind being tagged but yeah we haven't spoken much but i do appreciate you!!

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

no comment? i don't know i'm trying really hard and i just can't think of any at the moment (very surprising since i have so many fandoms i think about a lot)

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I don't remember what the weirdest topic is but I once ended up watching History's Greatest Heists with Pierce Brosman as research for the spidey minlix fic because I wanted to see what kind of stuff people did for heists in real life as opposed to fictional shows. I've also looked into what paintings and valuable artifacts are in NYC museums (@ the fbi i swear I wasn't planning anything I just think its interesting!)

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

OH! i actually have a dream plot for descendants, so ive always wanted a leverage au (i dont know if you know the show but its thieves conning the rich for good, think modern robin hood) but core four + ben as the leverage crew. i dont know who would write it best but i would love to read it, or maybe write it idk lol. sea 3 would definitely be a rival heist crew in said au.

[tipsygnostalgy]

On Grandpa/Jake Harley

you know shits about to be long as fuck when i add the keep reading line like four lines in lol

anyway anon all this is 4 u!! feel free to talk ab this by just tagging instead of rb i dont want 2k words to be posted over n over again

Grandpa Harley being some kind of pseudo-omnipotent deity figure who somehow figures out/guesses (my money's on guesses) extremely intricate details about the game and does everything he can to make things go right is something that we don't talk about enough. It's one of the only plans in Homestuck made that are orchestrated entirely by one person then ends up going right. It's that pattern of hoping that the cards fall into place in the right way (unless we're taking the Grandpa is practically God perspective, which is interesting in its own right)—but notably, he makes a lot of preparations beforehand. He's so... active. It fascinates me. I'll have to talk about this on the Jake English as Jesus Christ trope post (it's coming, I swear, brainrot's a bitch) but the sheer amount of things he does is astounding. But, lo and behold, he wasn't always like this. Cue: the Skaianet Systems Incorporated texts.

Quick note about all that. A very large portion of the things Hussie wrote for SSI is 1) dubiously canon, and 2) a bunch of anti-semitic bullshit that he probably never should have fucking released to the public, at least not like that. Like, holy shit, keep that and your weird comments about sexual slavery in your Notes app dude, we don't need to hear it. For this reason I suggest reading the actual material with extreme caution. Cool? Cool. On with it. Here's a lil' review of Jake Harley before the session.

Funny enough, Jake had always been kind of pathetic in the Beta session as well.

So Skaianet was actually established by HIC as a front for laundering technology from Alternia and Sburbian ruins. The key of SN was not to actually develop tech, but make it look like it so that people will believe you when your company just re-defined gravity for the hundredth time. Jake has to play the "famous genius shtick," but he doesn't do so well. When he fully inherits SN at 21 he runs it hands-on, and "believes" his success is due to hard work and diligence. He also "believes SN is now a considerably more distinct entity from Crocker Corp, and his leadership of the company is a result of his hard work and competence. Neither is true." He's manipulated by his at-the-time boyfriend (Charlie Chaplin, somehow) into letting a rebel force into the Crocker manor, though the effort is ultimately thwarted by HIC.

He also has a disastrous love life. His relationship at sixteen with Chaplin consists of Chaplin finding him "obnoxious and thoughtless" though he "can't seem to quit him," and Jake ultimately "[toys] with his heart, and [abandons] him." This later (much later, think decades) manifests into something way worse when Chaplin appears in an outing Jake has with one of his families (he's had many, though not at once) and tries to kill Jake for not just his involvement with SN/HIC, but for breaking his heart as well. Notably, in this scene, upon having a gun aimed at him Jake reflexively hides behind his wife, who ends up being shot in his stead. He's out-strifed so badly that he'd have died in the jungle (oh yeah he takes his wife and 5yo son to a jungle btw) if Chaplin didn't have a divine intervention moment afterwards.

At 32 he also abandons his post at SN for fucking around Europe. "[H]e's out exploring and adventuring, completely oblivious to whatever's going on in Europe. He hops from site to site, looking for Sburbian ruins to plunder." One, the "whatever's going on" is WW2, again, somehow. Two, he has a daughter there that he "takes custody of, apprentices as an adventurer, and takes all over the place on his adventures." When he takes her to Hawaii she ditches him because she's sick of her "douchebag dad." And there's that Jude family too, obviously.

Oh, and all the Beta guardians are also meteor babies. It's how Jake ends up finding Dirk and Roxy to begin with—he sets them up with trust funds in Texas and New York so that they can be of use to SN later, though whether he knew their importance in the larger context of SBURB is unclear.

All caught up? Great.

The exact details of how every event goes down aren't as important as the lessons you can draw from it, namely: Jake Harley is an absolute fucking mess of a human being. He continuously creates families—notice how he keeps having children with his wive—then is bereaved of them. A few times he abandons them, a few times they abandon him, and sometimes they get killed by your ex-boyfriend. It's a neat little insight into just how neck-deep these commitment issues lie, but it's also fun to consider that he seeks it so desperately. This man has on record has had:

one wife be shot dead in front of him

a son who was technically kidnapped from him by the man who almost beat him to death (his ex-boyfriend)

a daughter ditch him in the middle of hawaii for being a shitty dad

a daughter (joey claire) be teleported by portal to alternia, who hated jake so much she took her dead mom's last name

said dead mom/wife whom upon her death leaves her children "Semi Orphans" because he just straight up ditches his kids to go work on hellmurder island

probably more

And he still considers himself a grandfather to Jade. TBF, I guess the easier way of explaining it is that it's simply the natural explanation—they are sort of related after all. But considering that he once sired an illegitimate daughter and not only took her into custody but tried to raise her as his liege, I still find it the fact that he tries over and over again to the point of rending the family meaningless interesting. I think it's viable that Jake wanted a family—not one where he and Jane were raised by HIC and poorly—but a real one. His attempt to raise that first daughter to mirror his habits reflects the way HIC raised Beta Jane to mirror her. Yet after relationship after relationship goes horribly wrong, this desire fades into a kind of apathetic unsureness to the point where this is what he says about his last "full" family, the Harley-Claires:

He's been making good headway on his quest for the mysterious island in the pacific. Once everything is taken care of here, he'll leave this family behind and set up shop on that island permanently. That's when the real work begins. The discoveries on that island will finally unite him with the destiny he's been in search of his whole life.

Two things of note. One, his first recorded instance of permanently setting up jackshit anywhere is at first with SkaiaNet then at Hellmurder island. Both locations share that theme of "destiny" in common—notice how he considers SN divorced from Crockercorp because of his efforts and tries to make the place overall less HIC-controlled, but ultimately fails. And sure, he later achieves this kind of destiny by having his Sburb plan go "right" but before this not a single "plan" he established went correctly. Jake in either timeline isn't a guy who regularly makes plans for multiple efforts—they zero in on one goal that appears as part of their calling and makes it happen, damn it. To him, that's a success. Whether he "actually does" is up for interpretation.

See, HIC actually wanted the Beta kids to play the game. She'd been using the Beta session as a "testing" timeline, knowing which events and people to avoid and keep in mind so that she can play everything out exactly the way she wants it to. Part of the reason why Crockertier Jane was so firmly for marrying Jake and having children was because that had been HIC's idea of what Beta Jake's purpose was once he landed on a Meteor (after B!Jane). So he saw the "big picture" in a bigger way than quite literally anyone else, but it still isn't enough, at least not in the way he thought it might be at first.

Prior to his discoveries on the island, Jake has no idea this will result in some kids using the software he's unearthing, which will destroy all life on Earth. Nor does he have any idea that those kids will be using this same software to reboot the universe with different starting conditions, thus ending this "trial run" timeline for HIC, and giving her a fresh start. Exactly as she planned.

This implies there is some moment that Grandpa Harley realized that everything he was doing would end up playing into the HIC's hands anyway. This also implies that he carried out those actions regardless, Hoping that Jade would someday win the game in the process. Are you seeing the parallel for my interpretation of Ult. Jake yet? Fuck.

What was the moment he realized? Did he power through anyway, hoping there was a bright light for Jade at the end of this all?

He's also a hoarder. He keeps items and objects instead of people. He hangs onto the past to the point where he's seemingly unable to let go of it—trophies, guns, artifacts—but throughout the entire Harley Manor there is not a single picture of his families. And that's where his dolls come in—dolls are just human enough but not too human, you can control them however you'd like yet delude yourself they are company. I'm not saying all doll-enjoyers are this way, but the specifics in which Grandpa (and Bro to an extent, for that matter) interacts with his dolls makes me believe he's turning them into pseudo-human entities because at the end of the day he again craves company. But, unlike Jake, Grandpa Harley's had a lifetime of experience reinforcing over and over again that this will never happen with a real person. And fuck, don't even get me started on the taxidermy—it's the very act of taking something, bereaving it of life and subjectivity, then keeping it for yourself. You can see how this has even affected Jade in the sense that she thinks about her taxidermied dead Grandpa (who she taxidermied himself, by the way) like a living, breathing person. And Jadebot? A robotic, perfect replica of his granddaughter, designed to monitor her at all times instead of him? And the parallels that has to Brobot. Ughghgh.

Also, quick digression. You know how Beta Dad & Mom were on the Battlefield? And how Grandpa landed just to recover Jade's dead dream body, then left Dad and Mom behind. Sorry, I'm just not normal about that at all. How did we collectively miss the sheer tragedy of that situation, God, I wonder what Roxy was thinking. Digression over.

All in all, what these files tell me is that the way Jake was written was no way accidental. Yeah he got fucked over in the Alpha session, yeah he's tragic, but he's tragic for a reason that I ultimately appreciate even as I clutch my heart and dramatically fall over from pain. He knows just enough about the meta-reality to cause feelings of absurdity but powers through it; he's supposed to be put in seemingly insurmountable situations and emerge, through one way or the other, victorious. He's supposed to have the strangest relationship known to man regarding other people and, as a result, try to find compromise between the two halves of "complete fuck-all isolation" and "the company of any developed adult human ever." He's goal-oriented only when it presents a clear-cut destiny to him, when he can see the significance of it, and otherwise floats around doing fuck-all in this world. This goal is, most of the time, people: Dirk for LE Jake, and Jade for Harley. It's also fun insight into where Jake could potentially end up going—as this post by Cooper already pointed out, Ult. Dirk's actions mirror Bro's need to micromanage and control everything in his life to the point where he, much alike Bro, secludes himself in an apartment while running his inner machinations unknown to most others. I wouldn't be surprised if Jake ends up in a similar way to Grandpa, giving his all to a dreary situation and maintaining Hope through it with the desire that it'll eventually succeed.

It would also be fun if his Hopes only came true after his death.

Alright, analysis over, everyone clock out. Good work, people. [Vaguely gestures to the reader.]

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

FIRE AND BLOOD: Part one: The beginning of the end. Aegon x reader, Aemond x reader (or x oc it kinda depends how you view it)

🔷Summary: You become Aegon and Aemond's plaything/pet and have a sexual secret relationship with them.

🔷Author's note: Rebranded for redacted

Wordcount: A tame under 1k

🔷Warnings: Forshadowing, Aemond being a terrifying mf but nothing else yet. No smut or gore, violence.

Brienne's pov/You pov

'Another time,' you tell the prince next to you. Prince Aegon Targaryen tries to pronounce the book sentences you high marked with inkt but he clearly is in no mood to learn.

He is an diffcult student to motivate. You know that by now. You have been teaching him a year now. 'Do you think I'll make a good king?' He randomly blurs out. You clutch the book you are holding. You bite your lip.

'Your sister will be queen, if the gods are willing. You will never need to worry about sitting the throne.'

'Good. I dont like being prince. I suck at it.'

'Well, maybe this is your chance to show yourself that you dont suck at high Valyrian!' You wiggle the book excitedly and silly like taunting a dog with a biscuit. Aegons eyes roll but he has a pleasant sincere smile on his lips. 'Come on, let's get to work. We started in chapter four and you did very well last time so-'

'I didn't bother to read it. Without you, reading is so boring. you make it more fun. You sparkle when you are reading, you know. It's very intriguing to watch.' You wanted to groan but feel your cheeks turn warmer and warmer. Intriguing. That is a first.

'Am I making you blush, my lady? I didnt mean to make my teacher uncomfortable. It would be bad for our very professional relationship if any of this-' You dont let him finish.

'You idiot,' you hiss at him before smacking him with the book. Aegon chuckles before running off. You take after him, not giving up that easy. 'You-' Another shadows falls over you and Aegon. His smile disappears and you know very well by now that his walls are back up high. You quickly compose yourself, bowing your head to the other prince who also lives, no you are certain, haunts this castle.

'Prince Aemond.' The much younger yet more serious prince looks at you and his older brother, chasing each other like children playing tag.

If Aegon is blood then he is fire. 'Brother. Mother wants to see you. It's important.' He ignores you, mostly for now. You feel a bit embarrassed you were seen hitting the other prince.

Aegon pretends to read one of the books you picked out for him. He does not like learning but he hates seeing his mother even more. 'I'm busy, brother. I am learning. educating myself. Training my brain.' He picks up the book. Its upside down.

You sigh and force yourself to smile at the other prince. He doesnt even pretend to smile back. 'Aegon, I think you should leave. Your mother is probably worried enough as it is. Good work today, your accent is getting better and better.'

You hear Aemonds low mocking chuckle. It makes you boil with rage and you want to hit another prince with a book. 'You wanted something?' You demand, when Aegon left the room.

He sits down in Aegons chair and starts reading the books you picked out for him. 'I read these when I was four.' He remarks.

You take the books from him and but them back in the shelves. Hastily and nervously. You dont know why but something is off about him. 'Hm. I might take on some Valyrian lessons myself. I see its quite the experience.' Expierence. What does he mean with that?

Probably just mocking Aegon. You hope. 'Funny, you are fluent. Your brother needs it.' You learned it from your mother when you were much younger than both Aegon or Aemond.

The prince laughs. 'He doesn't deserve to learn such a beautiful language. He is a idiot.'

'Everyone who isnt you is a idiot in your eyes..' eyes. You curse yourself. 'I only meant that nearly no one can accomplish as much as you, my prince.'

He leans back in the chair. 'Its because most people don't have to struggle the way I did.' You sigh but carefully compose yourself. struggle? He has people to warm his bath for him. He has people to dress him. He has a house with hundreds chambers and has more gold than he can spend. What did he struggle with? His one eye that his nephew took? Something very common among common people? Is he really that upset the gods took it from grating him a dragon?

You wont tell him, but you are worried about Aegons process. You worry very much. Every step he takes in the right direction is two steps back in another subject. It's like he cant remember what he learned not even a week ago. ''He is not remembering it, is he?' He smiles smugly. Happy with his brother struggling and being miserable. 'All that drinking killed whatever was left of his brain.'

'Your brother is fine-' He slams his fist on the table and you flinch, unintended. He gets up.

'Maybe you should stop flirting with him. He is not learning anything if he is distracted.' He says, staring you down like you are an enemy on the battle field that he cant wait to slay.

'Well, i-'

'I'm serious about taking up lessons. Who knows what you might learn me. And what I might learn you in return.' He says. 'I'm a better student than Aegon. Whatever you teach me, I remember. And whatever I teach you well: You'll remember that was well.' He leans in closer.

'Unless you are fond of punishment of course.'