#just catchphrase after catchphrase
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stepped back in time today when one of my aunt's senior citizen friends asked me—in all seriousness—if my friend liking vampires means she worships the devil as well
but the segue to that question was: "is she, you know, weird?"
which, ma'am... I am not the best authority on Weird™️
#sitting there in that pristine living room remembering i wrote the mussy fic as i get questioned about weird and satan worship#i'm tired#other than that good party#people liked my cake and it's named after a catchphrase from some show from the 60s or 70s i believe#imagine armand going around saying 'sock it to me' outta context#i would appreciate serene vampire thoughts to wake up to tomorrow if you have them 🤧#it's actually very funny because these people genuinely love me and knew me when i was tiny but just the mentality shift is jarring#i don't think this place has changed since the 80s though which tracks#hekate.txt
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there's that tiktok of that stupid man going around like 'oh, what if everyone is fake and i'm the only real person', and i know that everyone is dunking on him for being fucking stupid by posing that question, and that whole thing really is a completely different philosophical can of worms that needs to be unpacked. but like.
idk. sometimes, i legitimately think the opposite. like, no, i am the fake person. everyone else here is real. everyone else has rich inner lives and they're vibrant and they have friends and family and empathy and passion and interests and all that shit i yearn for (and have gotten really good at feigning) but don't actually have.
i just have like...like this stark anhedonia.
i'm the fake person. i'm completely empty. everyone else is real. i'm kind of just here.
and i truly do mean this in like the most neutral way possible. this is something i've more or less made my peace with. but sometimes i wish it wasn't something i had to make peace with, ya know? sometimes i wish i wasn't fundamentally separated from people and could just like connect. sometimes i wish i wasn't so empty. ya know?
#...YA KNOW?#bringing irl catchphrase onto this website now yep#i don't get like this on here really#but like screaming into the notion-page-void i've created gets old after a while#so i'm going to scream into this differently shaped tumblr-void which might make me feel a little better#even if it's to the same effect as the empty notion page#mattie gets personal#idk. new tag i guess?#i don't forsee this happening often i am too cringed out by myself to allow myself to dwell for too long#just deeply embarrassed that i have irrational feelings#bc my life is fine#objectively and truly#so rlly aint any reason for all this#none of this makes sense but wtever#what are those lines from sylvia that make me sob?#'i'm hollow'#'there's nothing behind my eyes'#'i'm a negative of a person'#'it's as if i've never thought anything wrote anything or felt anything'#yeah.#....yeah.......
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Every moment that ggf doesnt blow up is a blessing I think. Like I'm like damn I wish for some virality! And less than a second later im like no that would be a terrible idea. This might sound like that fox who want the grapes but bc its outta reach he says its green but do remember my accounts are very hackable and I gptta do smth about that before the internet gets its grippers on me
#my passwords are dumb#i still use my first ever email#and like. the more I think about it the less i care about popularity. im not even on socmed#the only reason why i want virality is bc i want money. i wanna be rich. i want to move out and spend money on so fucking much therapy#i like going to the dentist#ill get all my weird symptoms checked out at the doctors#i want money. i want money!!!!!! i wanna buy houses for my besties#got distracted. anyway it sounds great but virality doesnt always equal to money thats the problem hence im like. ehhh.. nah#like. ill be happy to be viral in 5 years when my shits more together but rn im a weak frail shrimp im like a small victorian boy#ive been eating orzo in veggie broth#the internet will instantly kill me#im still gonna get my symptoms checked out at the doctors mind you. i am rich co#my parents are. and theyre in their guilty 50s stage where they look at me sadly and say shit like 'i dont remember that' when i tell them#they neglected me#so ill still get to go to my doctors. its just a matter of gettin there. but i reaaaaaally hate going out#growing up is learnin tjat no money or fame can fix u#the autism is winning. the asthma is winning. the allergies are winning. the hypermobility is winning. apparently its not just funny that#i cant hold up frying pans and choppin stuff hurts my wrist. its a runnin joke that im super weak but now im like. is this normal#my feet hurt all the time. is that normal. i get a desperate need to lie down after i do anything. 'i love being horizontal'#thats my irl catchphrase. and like. my nose are always clogged. i only recently started visiting the dentist bc they booked me in for#regular visits after comin to them to look at my wisdom tooth. and they say they can tell im a mouthbreather from my teeth#and im like girl what. i didnt know theres consequences to breathing through my mouth. and ive been thinking about the fact that im#congested 95% of the time and im like. maybeeeeee... thats not normal....... its been liek this for most of my life jsyk. is that why my#ears pop and ring all the time. apparently sinus problems can lead to ear problems. like i can sorta tell bc my nose gets completely blocked#and i gotta 'stretch' my jaw to relief the pressure on my ears every once in a while. but i thought that was just normal#i joke that im allergic to joy bc my asthma flares up when i laugh. which is kinda funny#i kinda have warmed up to like. the idea. of me bein disabled. bc im autistic and im regressing as i relearn how to actually do stuff in#a sustainable way. but man. i didnt consider my many bodily failures to be a part of it. but like with becoming more intuned with my body#and my fatigue..... its like yeah. not being able to breath is kinda tiring. i dont sleep very well either. maybe thats why i sleep so much#this is also why i shouldnt ever be known i talk too much
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I wonder if love live is worth rewatching… I remember I wasn’t that fond of the anime when I first watched- I liked the intro arcs but after that, the plot felt so ,, melodramatic?? like ? sorry, unpopular opinion ig,, things like constant posing and catchphrase saying,, also the emphasis on their lips GKAKVKA I thought it’s a bit?? 😂 it became stronger in later adaptions,, the line between quirky cute and ..?? Forced?? 🤔🤔 theres other idol animes I preferred ,, this was my thoughts in like 2016 btw GKAKVKA it’s why I’m considering this in first place 🙏💦
#Kanna rambles#Irt love live#hmmm 🤔🤔🤔#ngl after I saw imas og my standards bar was raised pretty high 😂💦💦#I /adored/ The Idolmaster anime … it had everything and was pretty well done <3 made me laugh and cry ect#love live not so much ^^’ which was sad bc I rly enjoyed each char’s introduction… but then they just became ?? poorly written? gag Chara??#Nico… TT Ruby… Hanayo (“someone help me!” is always worrying catchphrase to me ngl)#Welp… </3#there’s ofc still appeal points tho! don’t get me wrong 💦 I def DIDNT/hate/ Ur
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Do you ever listen to someone speak and marvel at how smooth, free-flowing, and free of pauses it is?
Because I sure do. I can’t do that.
Maybe that’s why I feel like most people’s speech is insincere even when it isn’t… because it sounds like how I would recite or read a script. That explains why I view people who aren’t native English speakers, have a heavy accent, and take long pauses to think of the words they need to say as being more trustworthy… because my cadence is similar to theirs; and we both stumble over words.
#I feel like that little kid “If you ever had a dream where— you want— you wish— if you could— you want….”#I’m not that bad; but I come very close to sounding like that sometimes LOL#I feel like I spoke more smoothly as a little kid…#but that’s probably because my verbal communication is almost at the same level it was at when I was eight years old#Like those people who have a growth spurt but end up being on the short side as adults because they stop growing immediately after#I figuratively shot up to 5’0” in third grade and never grew past that point#(with regard to clarity and flow specifically; not vocabulary… my vocabulary has definitely grown a LOT#but that’s only because I get sick of writing or talking in the same way for longer than a year… which is why I currently sound#like a pretentious 20th century englishman whenever I write fiction)#I have no “real” vernacular because I don’t feel comfortable with having a personal vernacular…#because using the same patterns of words over and over again for the same situations counts as para-scripting and feels fake#(to me)#sometimes I hear someone use a new word I’ve never heard in conversation; and I say “Cool! I’ll use that word myself.” But I later realize#it’s not just a fun one-time usage of a word; but it’s a catchphrase they say all the time and forsake any common synonyms of the word#— I assume — solely for the purpose of sounding smart to others (their behavior usually justifies my assumption; because these people#act like they’re better than everyone else)#And sometimes I catch myself doing the same thing; and I switch to a different word or format than I’ve been using; out of nothing#but embarrassment and twisted perfectionism#Or sometimes I come off the high of using lofty words and want to speak in a more commonplace way#and after awhile of that I start thinking “Wait a minute wait a minute…. Now I’m just trying to sound cool and normal.#This isn’t how I talk.”#But the truth is I really feel spoken language is an insufficient medium for communication.#I want a language in which the speakers pry open each others’ chests#rip out each others’ hearts; and rub them together#But at the same time it kills me that I cannot do the same amount of tonal shapeshifting when speaking#especially when my default (socially-acceptable) speaking voice sounds extremely airheaded#I’ve been trying to use larger words and more archaic sentence structures in speech lately and it feels good#but also like I’m trying to show off (even though I’m not and that’s just how I’d prefer to speak)#even then… all my speech patterns are copied from somewhere#It’s been a years-long identity crisis and I want it to end
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My one big problem with Turtles Forever is the fact that Karai helps Ch’rell like what the fuck girl
#get therapy honey#why would you do that after going to the capril wedding and having your cyber dad almost kill you your partner and your friends#maybe if the plot was her Pretending to serve him so she could help stop him I would feel better#obviously I take issue with how slapstick and mischaracterized the 87 verse is#but overall it’s a sweet movie#I really enjoyed both Splinters making the turtles feel at home#and how silly they were yelling their catchphrases at each other#bunch of goofballs I love them#also holy shit I realize that post this movie they have to look for a new lair????#on top of it being destroyed#Hun knows where it is#fuck dude where would they even go next#probably they’d room with Leatherhead for a bit he’s Got the space#‘sorry you got erase for a hot second there LH you won’t Believe what we’ve just been through!’#also lmao at Don saying there’s no stick that can travel interdimensionally like hello???#the Daimyo’s staff?? the Time Scepter??!??#I’d count those both as sticks#anyways I play Zelda now byeeeeee
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man...
“underrated and over it” speaks so much volume to me right now
#i dont mean personally. but like#people didnt really start paying attention before this whole thing with the catchphrase and the box started you know#just PROVING his point. he was underrated and only when things changed people started to notice it and him#how he himself had to pull himself into relevancy after being shelved against his will and all#like i know the whole line was a spur of a moment but.. it speaks so much truth honestly#i cant explain it but you know. you know#thankfully kip is very good at putting himself over but damn#wrestling musing
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Kiryus like ohh im so evil and im crazy i KILL people i will hurt you so bad ouhh im the big bad wolf im gonna getcha <- and he says this while he spares his enemy
#Yakuza liveplay#his catchphrase is literally step up if you want to die#and after he beat the shit out of aoyama he was all heem heem whimper and his bro was all like Pussy !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#AND OIHHHUGU SHIT MORINAGA JUST BLEW HIS HEAD OPEN YEAHAHAHHHHHHHH#you know kiryu has not smiled a single time in y5 yet#the closest he got was when he was fighting horse divorced last wrestling match#he was like wheeeee yayyy wrestling 😋 and he was like :33 tail wagging lets wrestle yayy yayy#but he didnt even smile. like not really
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The Villain Checklist!
Creating a villain is a delicate art, much like crafting a masterpiece. To ensure your antagonist leaps off the page with depth, consider these essential elements for your villain checklist:
Motivation: Every great villain is driven by a potent motivation, one that fuels their actions and sets them on their dark path. Explore their backstory and unearth the core reason behind their villainy. Are they seeking power, revenge, redemption, or something more sinister?
Complexity: Gone are the days of one-dimensional villains twirling mustaches and cackling maniacally. Infuse your antagonist with layers of complexity and nuance. Perhaps they possess redeeming qualities or wrestle with inner conflicts that humanize their actions.
Flaws and Vulnerabilities: Despite their nefarious intentions, villains should be flawed beings with vulnerabilities. These weaknesses not only add depth to their character but also create opportunities for conflict and growth throughout your story.
Backstory: Delve into your villain's past to uncover formative experiences that shaped their present disposition. Trauma, betrayal, or societal pressures can all contribute to their descent into villainy, providing rich narrative fodder for exploration.
Goals and Ambitions: Just as heroes strive for noble objectives, villains pursue their own twisted goals with fervor and determination. Define what your antagonist hopes to achieve and the lengths they're willing to go to attain it, even if it means sacrificing everything in their path.
Antagonistic Traits: From cunning intellect to ruthless brutality, equip your villain with traits that make them a formidable adversary for your protagonist. Consider how their strengths and weaknesses complement each other, creating dynamic conflicts that propel your story forward.
Relationships and Alliances: Villains don't operate in isolation; they forge alliances, manipulate allies, and cultivate relationships to further their agendas. Develop the connections your antagonist shares with other characters, be they loyal minions or reluctant collaborators, to add depth to their character dynamics.
Moral Justification (from their perspective): While their actions may be abhorrent to society, villains often believe they're justified in their pursuits. Explore your antagonist's moral code and the twisted logic that rationalizes their behavior, offering readers insight into their twisted worldview.
Arc of Transformation: Just as protagonists undergo arcs of growth and change, villains should experience their own journey of transformation. Whether it's redemption, downfall, or something altogether unexpected, chart the evolution of your antagonist throughout the narrative.
Memorable Traits: Give your villain distinctive traits or quirks that leave a lasting impression on readers. Whether it's a chilling catchphrase, a distinctive appearance, or a haunting backstory, give your antagonist elements that linger in the minds of your audience long after they've closed the book.
#writing#writer on tumblr#writerscommunity#writing tips#character development#writing help#write villain#writing villains#my ocs#creative writing#oc character#writing block
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surprise | tyler owens x reader
Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader Summary: You drive to Oklahoma to surprise Tyler before a chase after he's had a stressful week. Warnings: Tyler calls reader baby. Other than that, I think there's nothing! Word Count: 1.2k A/N: I randomly had this idea after I rewatched Twisters tonight and thought it was so cute so I had to write it. I am also working on some requests you guys have sent in, just have been having a crazy few days at work so I haven't had the chance to finish and post them – but they're coming! For now, enjoy this! 💗
The second that Tyler stops the truck, it’s practically swarmed by tens of fans, all wanting an autograph and a selfie and the chance to see the famous Tornado Wranglers in person. The gas station is packed to the brim full of actual professional storm chasers and amateurs. You would consider yourself to be neither.
From your spot across the parking lot, you watch as Tyler exits the car, yelling his famous catchphrase: “If you feel it…”, the fans finishing it off with “chase it!” You’re leant up against the door of your own car, a smile on your face as you see the smile on Tyler’s. He almost always takes the time to greet everyone that’s come out to see them, signing photos and taking selfies. His stash of pre-signed photos that he keeps in his car always coming in handy.
Dating the one and only Tyler Owens, famous storm chaser, was not something for the weak. You’d known that from the very start. To anyone else, it’d probably bother them, having to wait for him to interact with all of the fans before he could make his way over to you. But for you? You love being able to watch him, see the genuine joy on his face at meeting the people who had changed his life by watching their once little Youtube videos. You wish you got to do it more often.
You know that when Tyler does eventually spot you, it’ll be worth all the waiting, worth the hours of solo driving you’d done alone to get here. Nearly seven hours of driving from your home in Arkansas just to surprise your boyfriend. He’d been stressed lately with the lack of storms across Oklahoma and the neighbouring states along Tornado Alley, wondering what was going to happen to their channel if they couldn’t produce content for it.
But the sight of everyone still taking selfies with the Wranglers proves to you that Tyler has nothing to worry about at all. You can see the Tornado Wranglers have a loyal fanbase.
You watch for a few more minutes, stifling a yawn as you do. You’d stopped after five hours of driving last night and spent the night at a motel which had given you one of the worst nights sleep of your life, and done the last few hours in the morning before arriving at the gas station that Tyler had told you they were headed to today. It was the closest gas station to where storms were predicted today, hence the crowd.
You’re about to start wandering over towards Tyler and the other Wranglers, still making their way through the crowd of fans, when you can see Tyler spot you. He’s just finished taking a selfie with a middle-aged woman when he stops in his tracks, eyes settling on you. Even from your distance, you can tell he’s spotted you.
It’s confirmed when he mutters a quick word to the people around him before he takes off at a run, straight towards you. He kicks up dust and dirt as he runs, trying to get to you as quickly as possible. You can’t keep the smile off your face as he gets closer.
“Baby, what the hell!?” He yells, not long before he reaches you.
Tyler almost knocks the wind out of you as he barrels into you, wrapping his arms around your body and lifting you off the ground. He spins you around in a circle and it’s impossible not to laugh at the feeling, his arms tight around you. He sets you back down on the ground and pulls away, hands still resting on your waist.
“Surprise,” you grin at him.
“You drove all this way just to surprise me?” Tyler looks at you in awe, his eyes both filled with an immense amount of love as well as a tinge of worry. “Baby, that’s a seven hour drive. Didn’t you have a shift yesterday? Please don’t tell me you drove all night.”
You shake your head. “I only drove till midnight, then I stopped at a motel. Promise.”
Tyler moves one of his hands to cup your cheek before he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re insane, y’know that? Drivin’ till midnight after an eight hour shift. You should’ve told me. What if something had happened to you on the road?”
You can see the worry etched on his face so you waste no time in pulling him in for a hug again, burying your face in his chest. Tyler reacts immediately, gently resting one of his hands on the side of your head. You feel him take a deep breath, taking everything in, taking your presence in.
“Ty, nothing happened. I’m here, I’m safe. I’m with you.”
He nods and rubs one of his hands up and down your back. “Thank you for comin’, baby. You have no idea how good it feels to be holdin’ you right now. When I looked over here and I saw you… was like everything felt like it might actually be okay.”
“Cause it will be, Ty,” you assure him. “But I do feel a little bad for tearing you away from the people that didn’t get selfies or autographs with you before you ran off.”
Tyler pulls away from the hug, but he still keeps a hand on you. “You got nothin’ to feel bad about, baby. I promise you that. And they all know who you are, I’m sure they get it.”
You smile up at him and then have to stifle another yawn. Your attempt at hiding it fails spectacularly, though, and Tyler narrows his eyes at you.
“Did you get any sleep last night?” One of his hands rests on your cheek again, a thumb gently stroking back and forth over your cheek.
“A little,” you say. “The motel was kinda dodgy. The mattress was like a rock.”
Tyler gives you one of his best unimpressed looks and shakes his head. “Okay, I’m sending you back to our motel. I’ll give you my room key, it’s in the truck, and you can go and rest up while we try and chase this storm this afternoon.”
“No, no,” you disagree. “I’m comin’ with you, Ty. I didn’t drive all this way just to be cooped up in some motel watching your chase on a computer screen. I gotta steal my seat back from Boone. He’s been gettin’ way too comfortable up there.”
Tyler let out a laugh and leans down to gently peck your lips. “Oh, baby, you know that seat belongs to you. And believe me, Boone knows it too.”
He attempts to step backwards, then, but you’re quick to move, placing one of your hands on the back of his neck and bringing his lips back to yours. Tyler has no objections, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kisses you back. It’s been weeks since he last saw you, weeks since he got to kiss you like this. You’re surprised he managed to hold off on it for so long after reuniting with you.
“Come on,” you say after breaking apart from the kiss. You reach down and grab Tyler’s hand in yours, weaving your fingers through his. “Let’s go give the rest of these people their autographs and selfies and get me my seat back.”
Tyler grins, giving your hand a squeeze. “Lead the way, baby.”
#tyler owens#tyler owens x you#tyler owens x reader#twisters#twisters x reader#twisters x you#twisters 2024#tyler owens fanfic#twisters fanfic
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So the thing about c!Technoblade (I say, as if there is only one thing) but one thing about him that always sticks with me is the choice of his codename in the Syndicate.
Because at first glance, Protesilaus was the first bloodthirsty stab-happy warrior off the boat in the Trojan War, eager for battle, unheeding of death, which is one way to view c!Techno's character (how many times did characters view him as a resource or a weapon before or even after Doomsday, where he was literally screaming, "I'M A PERSON!").
And at second glance, he’s a willing martyr, who knew about the prophecy that the first man to land at Troy would be the first to die, and would rather it was him than his friends, which is another way to view him, one that seems closer to who he actually is ("leave Phil alone, just take me!", anyone?).
But c!Technoblade chose his name without ever abandoning his catchphrase of "Technoblade never dies", which is what sticks with me -- because he didn't just state that he'd die for his friends and leave it at that. He promised to protect them and to live for them.
Protesilaus is destined to be the first of his comrades to die by immovable fate, but also Technoblade never dies, which means that none of his comrades will, either.
He made it a promise. "I won’t die, therefore the gods will have no choice but to let all my friends live."
By something as simple as choosing a name, c!Technoblade (who for months was wary of identifying who his friends even were, especially after what the Butcher Army did to Philza, whose only crime was being his friend) told everyone in the Syndicate that if harm came to them, it would be because he was already dead, and that he never intended to let either of those things happen.
#technoblade#c!techno#the syndicate#welcome to my blog where i lie awake at night wondering who harpocrates was#and how one man turned a boastful gamer dude catchphrase into a declaration of protection for his friends and im very soft about it
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I love how much you put in these tags, @miraculouslbcnreactions!
Reblogs appreciated for reach—I’m just genuinely curious! Would love elaboration in the tags but obviously you can just keep your answer anonymous if you want as well
#Despised it#I watch family/children's media very aware of who the intended audience is#And expect all such media to cater to its intended audience and not the adults along for the ride#The season five final was not written for a five-year-old viewer#You don't show a little kid a father willfully poisoning his child (nightmare dust) and locking that child away#And then give that father a happy/peaceful ending#What message is that supposed to send to kids???#I was extra disturbed by that interview where the writers said that this was Gabriel accepting Emilie's death#but also deciding that he can't live without her#Once again: what freaking message is that supposed to send to kids? Shouldn't Adrien's existence be enough to make Gabriel want to live?#Way to drive home how little Gabriel cared about his son.#Plus that is NOT what accepting another person's death looks like! Way to completely fail on that message.#And this was originally the series finale!!! Yikes#Also depending on your read of Emilie's status (dead vs coma/magical stasis)#The final is literally treating either a su*cide or full out murder-su*cide as a happy ending for Gabriel#I don't think kids need to be wrapped in a bubble but by the gods that is freaking dark#Even if later seasons somehow fix this (and I truly do not think that they will) the intended audience is five-to-twelve-year-olds#That's not an age group known for following complex and nuanced plots#The younger end of that group is not waiting with baited breath to see how this messed up ending will resolve itself#They see the happy smiles and Gabriel going into the light and think this is what a happy ending looks like#Oh and way to have Chat Noir leave Ladybug to literally fight the world alone after making his catchphrase “me and you against the world”#Guess that was just lip service?#Why even bother making him a hero if this was the plan all along like they claim?#The final well and truly killed every side of the love square in one fell swoop. And they were already on shaky ground going into the final#Ladynoir isn't the power couple we always wanted and Adrienette is poisoned to a level I don't think that they can come back from#It's all just way too serious for the intended audience. We've gone from rom-com to tragedy.#There is a reason this blog was created mid season five
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Roddy learns about Deadlock when he barges into Ratchet's lab after a nasty engagement with the Quintessons without letting him know first and needs repairs for either his mech or himself badly (drops mic and runs)
Ooooohhhhhheheheheh. My favourite catchphrase. IMAGINE
Roddy and Ratchet are good friends. Good enough for Roddy to know where Ratchets little hideout is. So. One of Roddy's missions goes horribly wrong, he's cut off from his squad, his mech is damaged and he's badly wounded and the Quintessons are on his back. He calls Ratchet because Ratchet's hideout is closest to him and the bleeding doesn't leave him much time to get back to base.
Except. The Quintessons are still chasing him and he just doesn't have the strength to fight them off or run away and he's starting to panic and his vision is blurry and that's the end, right?
But Ratchet's like, oh fuck, don't you dare dying in there, and then he hears Ratchet speaking to someone like, “Kid, I need your help.”
Roddy manages to think “who the fuck would Ratchet call kid” before another another ABSOLUTELY FUCKING UNFAMILIAR mech bursts into the battle, scattering the Quintessons, shooting off their limbs and ripping their eyes out with its claws to blind them and it is. Such a massive bloody mess.
Bonus thoughts - Roddy at first thinks that Deadlock is some kind of AI piloted robot haha
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Hint: If you ever encounter this puzzle in a crossword app, just [term for someone with a competitive and high-achieving personality].
A Crossword Puzzle [Explained]
Transcript
[A square 15x15 crossword puzzle is shown. Only 21 of the 225 squares are black. The black squares are in a pattern that are 180 degree rotationally symmetrical. Three black squares down from the 11th column and similarly three black squares up from the 5th column. Three black squares out from the right in row 7 and then two more black squares diagonally up from the end. Similarly three black squares out from the left in row 9 with two more black squares diagonally down from the end. A single black square is three above the first black square on the diagonal going down to the right and similarly there is a black square three under the first of the diagonal squares going down to the left. (Row 6 column 12 and Row 10 column 4). Finally there are three black squares on a diagonal crossing over the central point by going up from the left through the central point (Row 8 column 8). There are numbers at the top of every column (except the one that is a black square) and similarly at the left edge of all rows (except the one that is a black square). There are also numbers at the bottom of every black segment (except the one that reaches the bottom) and all rows after black segments except the one that reaches the right edge. In total all numbers from 1 to 51 is written. They are written in reading order from 1 to 51.]
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51
[Below the square there are two rows of clues for each number that belongs to across (rows) and to the right there are one row of clues for each number that belongs to down (columns). Both segments have an underlined and bold title above the clues. ]
'''Across'''
1. Famous Pvt. Wilhelm quote
11. IPv6 address record
15. "CIPHERTEXT" decrypted with Vigenère key "CIPHERTEXT"
16. 8mm diameter battery
17. "Warthog" attack aircraft
18. Every third letter in the word for "inability to visualize"
19. An acrostic hidden on the first page of the dictionary
21. Default paper size in Europe
22. First four unary strings
23. Lysine codon
24. 40 CFR Part 63 subpart concerning asphalt pollution
25. Top bond credit rating
26. Audi coupe
27. A pair of small remote batteries, when inserted
29. Unofficial Howard Dean slogan
32. A 4.0 report card
33. The "Harlem Globetrotters of baseball" (vowels only)
34. 2018 Kiefer song
35. Top Minor League tier
36. Reply elicited by a dentist
38. ANAA's airport
41. Macaulay Culkin's review of aftershave
43. Marketing agency trade grp.
44. Soaring climax of Linda Eder's ''Man of La Mancha''
46. Military flight community org.
47. Iconic line from ''Tarzan''
48. Every other letter of Jimmy Wales's birth state
49. Warthog's postscript after "They call me ''mister'' pig!"
50. Message to Elsa in ''Frozen 2''
51. Lola, when betting it all on Black 20 in ''Run Lola Run''
“Down
1. Game featuring "a reckless disregard for gravity"
2. 101010101010101010101010 [sub]2→16
3. Google phone released July '22
4. It's five times better than that ''other'' steak sauce
5. ToHex(43690)
6. Freddie Mercury lyric from ''Under Pressure''
7. Full-size Audi luxury sedan
8. Fast path through a multiple choice marketing survey
9. 12356631 in base 26
10. Viral Jimmy Barnes chorus
11. Ruby Rhod catchphrase
12. badbeef + 9efcebbb
13. In Wet Let's ''Ur Mum'', what the singer has been practicing
14. Refrain from Nora Reed bot
20. Mario button presses to ascend Minas Tirith's walls
24. Vermont historic route north from Bennington
26. High-budget video game
28. Unorthodox Tic-Tac-Toe win
29. String whose SHA-256 hash ends "...689510285e212385"
30. Arnold's remark to the Predator
31. The vowels in the fire salamander's binomial name
32. Janet Leigh ''Psycho'' line
34. Seven 440Hz pulses
37. Audi luxury sports sedan
38. A half-dozen eggs with reasonably firm yolks
39. 2-2-2-2-2-2 on a multitap phone keypad
40. .- .- .- .- .- .-
42. Rating for China's best tourist attractions
43. Standard drumstick size
45. "The rain/in Spain/falls main-/ly on the plain" rhyme scheme
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It's Eddie Dear. I have a lot to say about Mr. Dear here.
First off, I wasn't sure how to present them in a post, so I just lined them up all together. I could post them separately, but the resolution wouldn't be any better. If you don't know about the Welcome Home project, you should look it up! Support Clown if you end up liking it.
The Big Challenges here (➡🐊⬅) were keeping all of the images consistent and, of course, coloring all of them the same way. Oh, what a nightmare! I also tried another new thing. Most of the coloring was done on one layer. The exceptions were the hats and rainbow neckties. Oh, and the envelope.
It was worth the trouble, he said, grinding his teeth.
All of the poses were referenced from the animations of Bobby Fulbright from Ace Attorney - Dual Destinies. He is one of my favorite characters. He's cute, he's funny, and I admire his passion for justice. (🚨Do NOT look up Bobby Fulbright if you'd like to play Ace Attorney spoiler-free.)
Eddie #1: Oh, Dear! Eddie's lost his hat! He can't deliver mail without his hat! Won't you help him find it, neighbor?
That's... kind of the idea for the first Eddie. It reminded me of a funny childhood memory. I stole my uncle's hat and he pleaded for me to return because it was "the source of his power." Obviously, I had to keep stealing it after that. He pretended to wither away and die if his hat wasn't returned. haha
I'm done! If you'd like, I could tell you a little about Bobby Fulbright and his partner, Simon Blackquill. It won't be a great description. If you're an Ace Attorney fanatic, you're not allowed to correct me!!! You can, however, tell me how diabolical I am.
Bobby Fulbright is a police detective and a self-proclaimed champion of justice. He acts like a superhero. He even has a catchphrase! It's, "In justice we trust!" In Japanese, it is simply, "JUSTICE~!" He has a friendly, honest, and bold personality.
He's also very loud.
Mr. Fulbright was assigned to Simon Blackquill, a cold-hearted killer with a tear-stained face. They call him the Twisted Samurai. He worked as a prosecutor while serving time. Prosecutor Blackquill constantly barked orders at the half-witted detective. Fulbright seemed unfazed by his insults, manipulation, and intimidation. Despite his past, Detective Fulbright fully believed in Blackquill's redemption and eventual return to society.
It was said that they worked in-sync in the courtroom.
I'd better stop there. You see? He's not at all like Eddie. 🤣 Thank you for reading!
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District boy
Pairing: young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader; doppëlganger! Finnick Odair x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You and Corio were very close (best) friends. Young Snow had a crush on you for a very long time. But he wouldn't let anything distract him—not until he got his family out of their financial troubles. And then comes the 10th Hunger Games, in which you get to be a mentor for a very handsome tribute... Coryo isn't happy about it at all. Requested by: Two anonymous. I hope you will like it! 😊💙🖤 Warning(s): jealous Coriolanus Snow; (doppëlganger) of Finnick Odair; the author doesn't care that it is impossible; Coryo being simp for the reader; reader flirts with Finnick; quote from 'My tears ricochet' by Taylor Swift; Words count: 7k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist
Coriolanus did not remember the exact moment when this happened.
Everything that had to do with you came to him very... naturally.
Before he knew it, one joint project for one of your classes turned into daily discussions in the cafeteria. You entered his very small circle of 'friends' like you should have always belonged there and unknowingly became the best friend to young Snow.
And then you started staying in the library after classes, talking about various things (Coriolanus hated himself for wasting his time when he should have been studying on pointless discussions with you, but he always ended up in the library at the end of the day anyway).
And so one day he realised that you were wonderful when you laughed at his jokes. That the smell of your perfume made him hungrier than the baked goods that spread from the bakery he passed by every day on his way to the Academy. That he was missing something as he basked in the glow of your attention. That he would like you to be with him at all times, not only within the walls of the Academy, cafes (he never ordered himself anything, trying to stop his stomach from growling as he watched you eat the cake, occasionally offering him a bite), or the park. That he would like to have you completely to himself and hide you from the eyes of other people who, in his opinion, were not worthy of an ounce of your attention.
He remembered snapping at Festus when he asked him if you were seeing anyone. As if Coriolanus' claim about you wasn't obvious enough to him.
Although you also remained blind to his obvious feelings, which Sejanus said were as visible as an approaching change in the weather in the Rocky Mountains. By the way, he wondered when Sejanus would forget those catchphrases from District 2. They were very tiring and boring to listen to.
But Snow decided to let you stay in the dark for a little longer and admire you in silence, from his place next to you as your best friend. He promised himself that when he won the Plinth Prize, he would conquer not only the world but you and your heart. After all, he couldn't imagine anyone else being his First Lady than you.
He knew that his fascination with you was gradually turning into an unhealthy obsession. But what else could he do when you took his breath away just by existing? And Coryo wasn't used to not having control over his emotions. But with you... you could do whatever you wanted with him. And he was terrified, both by the fact that you had such power over him and by the fact that you were completely unaware of it.
However, everything was going according to his plan. He stayed by your side, guarding you like a gardener's dog and waiting for the moment when he would finally be worthy of you and make you his. And you seemed to obediently dismiss every admirer.
Until the 10th Hunger Games came along.
And a certain district boy stole too much of your attention for Coriolanus' liking. After all, you were HIS. Even if you didn't know about it yet.
"Hello, petal." He whispers in your ear, walking up to you from behind.
Surprised, you choke on the champagne you drank in secret from your parents and other participants in the reaping party at the Academy. He smiles in amusement, gently patting your back and discreetly placing the glass of champagne on the table for you.
"Coriolanus Snow, someday I'll put a fucking bell around your neck like my mother's cats have." You say, coughing. He laughs softly, offering you his arm, which you take once you've recovered.
"I thought you considered it brutal?" He replies sarcastically, glancing at the dress you were in, which hugged your curves perfectly.
A white dress that Tigris made for you 'coincidentally' matched perfectly with the outfit he was currently wearing. He had never been more proud of his cousin than he was now.
"I'm surprised that you think you're on an equal footing with my cats. You're no match for them, Snow." He rolls his eyes at you, but he can't help but smirk a little at your laugh.
"We will see." You snorted at that. You notice Sejanus in the crowd talking to his parents.
"I'll go say hello." You say, nodding towards Sejanus. But before you can take a step towards him, Coryo's grip on you tightens. You give him a questioning look, focusing your gaze on him.
"Stay with me. You know I don't like talking to them all by myself. Especially with Arachne. Sejan will be joining us soon." You sigh, rolling your eyes at him, but you don't try to fight his grip or let go of his arm as he leads you towards the group of your classmates.
"I spoil you too much, Snow."
"Nonsense, you could do better." You laugh in amusement, and he smiles at the sound of that.
But his good mood and relaxed demeanour quickly turned into a stoic expression. You feel him tense slightly and straighten, as if preparing for a fight, when you approach your classmates.
"Snow and Y/L/N. As always, together. You could finally make up your mind, darling, and choose one of them instead of hanging around him and Plinth." Arachne greets you, as always, nicely, at which you laugh artificially.
"Why should I when I can have both?" You reply with a shrug, making some of them laugh. However, you are most pleased with Arachne's grimace and the small smile on Coryo's lips.
"Usually it's the district girls who act like whores." You feel Coryo tense next to you, his eyes turning a cold, icy shade as he stares at the girl in front of you. If looks could kill, Coryo would become a serial killer. However, he could certainly make someone feel insecure and intimidated.
"Usually inheritance hunters don't complete their education and end up marrying some rich fool at the earliest opportunity, even before they turn 18. And yet here you are, Arachnie. I think that makes us both surprised then." You reply before Coryo can react. Festus shakes his head and stares at the both of you in amusement as you sinisterly glare at each other.
"Ladies, why all these quarrels? We already know who Y/N will end up with."
"And who is it, Festus?"
"Me." You shake your head at that, amused. However, Coryo, standing next to you, doesn't share your humor. He pulls you slightly closer to him, giving you a fleeting glance before focusing on Festus.
"For now, she's not on your shoulder, Creed."
"Enjoy it while you can, Snow. We'll see how things go when we enrol in university." You see Coriolanus tighten his jaw at his remark. You squeeze his arm slightly tighter, making him shift his gaze to you. You smile as he relaxes slightly under your attention.
"You made it to the graduation, Festus. You shouldn't set higher expectations for yourself than that." Sejan's voice echoes behind you. You snorted in amusement and turned around in Coryo's embrace; somehow you managed to get out of them enough to wrap your arms around your friend. "Y/N. You look as beautiful as always. Arachne, who are you trying to fool with this white outfit?" You hide your face behind Coryo's shoulder, trying to hold back a burst of laughter.
You feel Sejanus wrapping his arm around you. Now, you are held by your two friends, and the one with the lighter hair is definitely unhappy about having to share you with Plinth, but you are not able to notice it since the reaping is finally starting.
A murmur of women's whispers echoed throughout the room as a very handsome man emerged from the crowd. You leaned forward slightly, taking a closer look at the tall, athletic, and chiselled man with tanned skin and bronze hair.
With just one look into his stunning sea-green eyes and after seeing the huge, charming smile he sent for the cameras, you knew that whoever got this man was going to be the winner. Because no tribute ever made as much money from sponsors as a sinfully hot man usually did.
And this one was a special sight for the eyes. The reaction of most of the female part of the room and the jealous and furious looks of the men at the reaction of their other halves confirmed your suspicions.
"This boy from 4 belongs to Miss Y/N Y/L/N."
You licked your lips, smiling wolfishly, and watched your tribute on the screen. You were so lucky.
"You damn lucky dog." Persephone whispers in your ear and slaps your shoulder playfully. You give her a half-smile and shrug as the cameramen spend a little more time showing your tribute.
"What can I say... maybe I'll only attract hot men from now on? I hope his muscles aren't just for good looks, because that would be a shame." She shakes her head at your words, holding back a laugh. You smile and involuntarily glance at Coriolanus.
He immediately looks away from you. His jaw is set, and his leg bounces slightly. Anyone else would think he was relaxed and calm. But you knew him too well to assume that.
He was already nervous the moment Clem took your seat, and you were forced to sit in the second row, away from him. Coriolanus doesn't like it. He would rather hold your hand, feel the warmth of your body close to yours, and smell the faint scent of your perfume than sneak glances over his shoulder to keep an eye on you.
Sometimes he knows he can be painfully obvious, but he thanks fate for at least being kind enough to keep you unaware of his feelings for you. He would have you. Just not yet. First, his tribute had to win the damn Hunger Games so he could win Plinth's prize. Then he could make his move without fear of you discovering his family's financial situation. Finally, snow lands on top. And he spent many sleepless nights imagining that he would land on top of you.
You catch his gaze, but you don't have time to analyse his attitude. After a while, Lucy Gray appears on the screen, and you see that your handsome guy will have some competition for the Capitol's favour.
And the possible competition with your best friend makes you feel very uncomfortable. So much so that you don't notice the hateful glare Coriolanus shot at your tribute as the operators once again showed off the likenesses of this year's tributes.
Finnick Odair. A new obstacle in his plan that he had to eliminate. And not just to win the Hunger Games...
You haven't spoken to Coryo since then. Which was an extremely strange phenomenon because you were usually attached to each other at the hip.
Although you had seen him briefly during classes and now, when most of the mentors had gathered around the cage at the zoo to find their tributes and give them something to eat or drink, he didn't even spare you a second glance as he was fully focused on Lucy Gray.
Something was wrong with him.
Especially after his little stunt at the train station and his conversation with Dr. Gaul. Because of which, now (and mainly because of Sejanus' statement), you stand nervously near the bars, looking for your tribute.
And you couldn't help but wonder what exactly the Hunger Games were for. The more you thought about it, the more you started to side with Sejanus.
The First Rebellion may have done you great harm, but was it any wonder that the people of the district rebelled? After all, if any of you were born outside the Capitol, you would probably do what they did. So what was the point of murdering 23 of the young unfortunates who had been singled out for slaughter?
“You seem lost.” A voice next to you pulls you from your thoughts. You turn around, seeing your tribute leaning against the bars and watching you carefully. If he was hot on TV, he looked gorgeous in real life. His cheekbones and jaws look like they had been carved with chisels by the best of the artists. And his eyes... you wonder how such men could be born and live in any district. "Unless you're looking for something. Or someone, if I may boldly assume."
"Y/N Y/L/N. Your mentor." You say, reaching your hand out towards him through the bars. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. You can't help but notice how soft his lips are against your skin. You blush slightly, and you can almost feel Flickerman's eyes and cameras behind you.
"I figured it out. Fate must be a little kind to me after all. Giving me the most beautiful of mentors as my guardian angel."
"You'll be able to say that when you win the Hunger Games." You reply, taking your hand from his and pulling food and drink out of your bag for him.
"When?" He asks, taking the cookie from you and immediately biting into it. That view is squeezing you with sadness, seeing how hungry he is. Despite everything, he still carries himself with grace and is extremely charming. You hope that the cameras will show him often. "How can you be so sure?"
"You are handsome. You attract women's attention. If you maintain that charming attitude of yours, you will probably earn quite a lot of money with those pretty eyes and smile. At least enough to not die of hunger or dehydration in the arena." You reply, searching for something else in your bag.
"Under different circumstances, I would be grateful for so many compliments, angel." You look up, meeting his gaze. And something inside you tells you that, in fact, if the circumstances were different, you would be talking about something completely different right now... or doing something much more enjoyable.
"When you win, who knows? Once a tribute stayed in the Capitol after winning." You say, handing him your cousin's old white sweater that he found in the closet.
"Sorry, honey, but I doubt I'd want to stay in the Capitol. Even for such a nice view." He says this, unabashedly taking off the slightly torn and dirty shirt he was wearing.
He soaks it in the water you gave him and rinses himself off, putting on a show for the entire Capitol audience to watch thanks to the cameras trained on him and the people in the zoo. You lick your lips, trying not to openly stare at the muscles on his chest and act rude (or, in this case, like a horny teenager).
"You're behind bars." You clear your throat, reminding him that there are probably no good views from the cage. You took the courage to look him in the eyes again only after he got dressed.
"And I look at a beautiful girl, what more could I want?"
You laugh loudly and honestly at this. He joins you, and the other mentors and the rest of the tributes look at you like you're crazy. You're too busy looking at the handsome man in front of you to notice Coryo giving him a dagger glare and clenching her fists in anger.
But Lucy Gray does it.
And she perfectly recognises jealousy in the eyes of others. Especially pure anger and the beginnings of forming a plan for revenge. After all, that's how she ended up here.
The day before reaping, Mayfair Lipp had a similar look in her eyes.
Which makes her come to the conclusion that maybe her mentor isn't as good a person as she initially assumed.
"Excuse me for a moment." Snow mutters to her as he walks towards the two of you, leaving her to the children who came to look at her dress.
You and Finnick chat casually about things completely unrelated to Games. Coriolanus notices that the boy from the district reached through the bars for your hand, showing you different lines on it, probably doing some trick or foretelling stupid things.
But what added fuel to Snow's anger was the fact that, in addition to the district's underdog daring to touch you, he also made your face blush. Something Coriolanus has never managed to do.
"Y/N." He says, interrupting the conversation between the two of you. Seeing that he is watching you, you move away from the boy, calming down his anger a little. "We have to get back to the Academy. We have another class soon."
"Oh. Yes." you say, the disappointment is very audible in your voice, which makes him even more angry and jealous.
Why on earth would this piece of trash from the district deserve your attention, or maybe even affection, when Coriolanus was standing right next to you?
"I'll be back again. If you need anything, I'll get it for you." You say, giving a soft smile to your tribute. Coryo almost growls in anger, knowing full well that this worm doesn't deserve your kindness.
"Everything's fine, angel. Don't worry too much." He replies with his charming smirk, making Coryo want to impale his head through the metal wires of his cage.
He wraps his hand around your waist and catches your gaze as he nods towards the exit of the zoo. Taking advantage of your moment of distraction as you watch Arachne torment her tribute, Coriolanus gives your tribute a cold look and squeezes your waist a little tighter. Odair looks at him impassively, but the slight tightening of his jaw tells Snow that the boy got the hint.
No matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to touch you like Coryo was doing right now.
Coryo shouldn't be concerned about a boy from the district, especially one who competed in the Hunger Games, but he couldn't just let that bastard flirt with HIS girl.
Your terrified gasp brings him out of his thoughts. He automatically places his hands on your shoulders, pulling you closer to him and looking around for whatever scared you. And she sees Arachne's tribute grab her by the neck and pull her towards her, holding a broken bottle in her other hand.
He feels you try to break free from his grip, but instead of letting you go and running towards Arachne and her tribute, he spins you around and presses your face into his chest just as Arachne's neck pierces the glass of the bottle.
He feels you tremble in his arms, hearing the screams and shots of the Peacekeepers, who open fire too late and kill the crazy girl from the district.
"You're safe. Nothing will happen to you. Not with me." He whispers to you as he feels your tears soak his shirt, and he falls even more in love with you, seeing you cry even for a bitch like Arachne.
He places a kiss on the top of your head and leads you out of the zoo and to your car. He glances briefly at Lucy Gray to make sure they didn't shoot her by accident. He angrily accepts that your tribute is also unharmed.
He feels a little better, though, when he sees how your tribute shoots a jealous, angry glare at him, holding you close to his chest. And Coriolanus can't help but wink arrogantly at him.
"Focus." You tell the tribute in front of you as you discuss plans to build the Arena with him. Finnick, however, prefers to play with the bracelet on your wrist.
"Rose quartz. You know you don't get things like that from just anyone?" He asks, examining the stone. You remove your wrist from his grasp and raise a questioning eyebrow at him.
"My friend gave me this."
"That creepy blonde? Adorable. If he took his eyes off you for more than 5 seconds."
You roll your eyes at him and turn your gaze away from him to glance at Coryo. He's talking to, or rather listening to, Lucy Gray as he stares blankly at the pen and paper in front of him. He senses your gaze and turns around. You give him a soft smile, and he nods at you and goes back to listening to his tribute.
"Coryo doesn't like being alone among people he doesn't trust or know. And after yesterday, he's… more caring. It's natural."
"And does this Coryo of yours often give you old bracelets with a stone symbolising love?" You frown, examining the bracelet he gave you for your 18th birthday.
"It belonged to his mother. He probably thought it was pretty and that's why he gave it to me. It does not mean anything." You explain to him, at which he just shakes his head in disbelief, apparently not trusting in the good intentions of your friend. You want to go back to discussing your arena survival plan with him, but he won't let you say a word.
"Hmm... if I hadn't been chosen in the reaping and we had met under different circumstances, and if I were rich, I would have given you a necklace with pearls and pieces of angelite."
"Why?" You ask curiously, hoping that once he says what he wants, you two will go back to discussing plans. But you wonder how the hell he knows the meaning of the stones.
"Pearls are a symbol of wisdom, calmness, integrity, and serenity. They also remind me of the ocean. How old fishermen told us stories about beautiful sirens who attracted them by singing."
"Like Lucy Gray?" You ask with a smirk, thinking he might like the female tribute.
"I was thinking of another beauty." He says his fingertips are brushing against yours as much as the cuffs on his wrists would allow.
You blush when he flirts with you. You can't say that it bothers you or that you are indifferent. After all, he was very handsome. You don't see Coryo frown, staring daggers at the place where your hands lightly brush against each other.
"What about angelite? Why it?"
"It's a kind of peaceful crystal. Some believe that it helps to bring a guardian angel closer to you. After being chosen in the reaping... I wasn't quite at peace. And then I looked at you, and somehow..." He pauses, staring at your hands. You grab his hands tight, making his sea-green eyes look back into yours in surprise at your sudden gesture.
"I promise I will do everything in my power to make you survive this. You don't have to trust me, but trust in this."
"Because you want the prize?" He asks suspiciously, and you shake your head with a slight chuckle. You're not surprised that he's distrustful. After all, most mentors had this in mind. The prize. Not a human life that was in their hands.
"Because I can't stand the thought of someone like you dying in the arena." You admit it. You unconsciously lean into each other as you stroke your fingers over the back of his hand, drawing little patterns on it.
"Someone like me? Underdog from the district?"
"A handsome man with a good heart. Do not look at me like this. I saw you sharing water and food with that sick little girl—Dill and the other one... Wovey I think? You are a good man, Finncik Odair." You say with confidence.
His eyes light up for a moment, and for the first time, you see his real, unforced, warm smile. He didn't play the charming boy. Not this time.
"I guess that makes two of us, angel. I saw someone giving her medicine last night and extra food. I doubt it was their mentors."
"I have no idea what you are talking about." You both laugh at your answer. And somehow you can't help but blush—the flutter in your stomach that's caused by the way he looks at you and that damn beautiful, genuine smile—that's nothing compared to his charming façade.
Someone's burning gaze focused on you, which you feel on your temple, makes you let go of the tribute's hand, embarrassed. You look around discreetly, noticing Coryo's cold gaze that makes you shiver. He's never looked at you like that... at least not in your direction. It takes you a few seconds to realise that his gaze isn't on you at all, but on the man sitting across from you.
"Can you get me a trident? And some nets?"
"Trident?" You ask distractedly, making a note of his request anyway.
"To the arena. To put on a show and collect more donations." You nod, your thoughts fully returning to Finnick. You tell yourself that you're making something up. After all, Coryo is just your friend.
"I'll see what I can do. You also need to think about what you will do on tomorrow's TV appearance." You remind him, writing down in your notebook the things you should provide him with before he goes on air. Maybe a suit? You're sure he'd look drop-dead handsome in it on stage.
"I have already got some idea. You'll probably like it." He replies with an arrogant smirk, causing you to giggle, which, for some strange reason, you're unable to hold back. His smirk widens.
"Y/N. Can I take you away for a moment?" Coryo's voice and the fact that he's right behind you surprise you. You didn't notice him sneaking up until he spoke. You wonder how many times he has managed to do this without your knowledge.
"Go, angel. I'll see you tomorrow at the arena." Finnick says, giving you another of his trademark smirks. You nod to him and accept Coryo's hand as he helps you up. He takes your bag from you, and you both walk out.
You go with him as his emotional support to Dr. Gaul's laboratory. He tells you enthusiastically about his new ideas for the Hunger Games and how the woman was interested in them, but you only half-listen, your thoughts still with Finnick. And Coriolanus doesn't like it that you so brazenly ignore what he says.
"You two are rather close." He says, getting your attention. You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, not understanding who he was talking about. "You and your tribute."
"We are. It's my job to take care of him."
"You do it rather willingly and with a smile on your face." He remarks with a strange tone of voice. You stop and frown at him, not understanding what his problem is.
"Are you suggesting something?"
"No. No. Not at all. I'm just warning you. People are talking."
"They always talk." You snap at him, furious that he's playing that card. He lectures you as if you were a little child and did something wrong. Besides, who cared? You could flirt with anyone you wanted.
"Y/N. He's just a district boy. I don't want your reputation to suffer just because… you see him as a human being."
"Are you serious? He IS a human being. Like each one of them." You say, angry at him for even saying such a thing.
"You sound like Sejanus." He says it coldly, giving you an unreadable look. You don't know what he's thinking, but you know by the way his jaw is set and his hand is nervously playing with the strap of his bag that it's not good. And you wonder. Because Sejan is your friend after all. And he was also a district boy.
"Maybe because he's right." You respond to his remark by crossing your arms and staring at him defiantly, tilting your chin slightly upward.
"Are you really going to let some district scumbag ruin your career and future? Everything you've worked for so far? They hate us, Y/N. Each one of them. Behind that charming smile of his, there is a devil who gossips about you and laughs at your naivety behind your back."
"They are not monsters, Coriolanus."
The use of his full name makes him flinch. You see it and immediately regret not using his diminutive, but that's okay. You were incredibly frustrated and angry that he thought the way Dr. Gaul and the rest of the rich snobs of Panem did. That he didn't see these people as... people. People like you were.
"They killed my father, and because of the rebellion 10 years ago, my mother and sister, whom I never got to know, are dead, and they might have been alive if those district rats hadn't turned the Capitol into a battlefield. You, Tigris, and my grandmother are all I have left. And I won't let anything happen to you or anyone take you away from me." He bursts out, keeping his voice cool, but you can clearly see the storm of emotions in his icy eyes.
"I'm not going anywhere, Coryo. The rebellion is over. We are safe. But they are not." You decide to back out of the argument with him.
"They don't deserve to be safe. Not after what they did to us, petal."
You don't say anything at his words. You just sigh and go to hug him.
He relaxes a little in your arms, wrapping himself around you just as tightly as you wrap around him. You are enveloped in his warmth and the delicate scent wafting from the rose he had pinned to his red jacket.
You know how Coryo suffered and how he sought an outlet for his pain. And you can't be surprised that he blamed the people of the district for his family's fate. That he hated them... but you didn't know how deep that hatred had grown inside him.
And how much it had grown the moment he found out from Lucy Gray that you had promised to make sure Odair won.
When he found out you chose that district boy above him in The Hunger Games, he fully understood what Dr. Gaul wanted him to say when she asked him about the meaning of the games.
Now he had to make sure that HE would become THE VICTOR. And not the underdog from 4 who tried to steal HIS woman.
"I hope I haven't caused you any trouble?" Finnick asks with that smile of his that makes you weak in the knees as you both walk around the arena.
You blush slightly, remembering last night.
"Here. Put this somewhere and change it when we get back from the arena. Then you two will be on TV." You tell him, handing him a bag of clothes through the bars. It is midnight. You shouldn't be here, and you might as well have given it to him in the morning, but... something pulled you to him. "If you are as charming as usual, you will win the hearts of the audience." You say, not knowing that he only cares about ONE heart.
"You're too good, angel. But I have something for you too." he says that and hands you a small bundle. You frown at him.
"I… I shouldn't…" You say, surprised, but he pushes the bundle into your hands anyway.
You look at him in a daze for a moment and unwrap the fabric. You gasp when you see the necklace. It is an ordinary black leather strap with a silver pendant with a fish that swallows its tail, thus creating a circle shape. There was a tiny pearl inside.
"If I were a rich man, I would give you something else... as a souvenir. But I'm not... but I really wanted for you to have something that will remind you of me. Please say something, or I might start talking nonsense that we'll both regret later and..."
You silence him by leaning in and kissing him through the bars. It's a gentle kiss, as tender as the tiny passage between the bars allows, but somehow he manages to grab your hand and cup your cheek carefully, brushing your skin with his thumb.
You feel tears welling up as you think about what it might have been like in another life, where there were no divisions into better and worse districts and the Hunger Games would never have existed... but this small moment stolen in the night between you two will have to be enough. That gentle brushing of your lips.
"No. Not at all. Do you already know what you're going to do on TV?" You ask, changing the subject, trying to keep from blushing as the two of you walk around the arena while you make mental notes of the best places to escape.
"Yes. I will recite a poem. Or, rather, a song. I will not compete with our dear Lucy Gray, and I will not sing. Want to hear?"
"Sure." You reply with a shrug, completely unprepared for what he had in store.
He clears his throat. He catches your eye and begins with a tone of voice so velvety and pleasant to the ear that it's impossible for you to perceive anything other than him. And certainly not the way your blonde friend was staring daggers at you with clenched fists, ignoring the scared look Lucy Gray was throwing his way.
"We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet."
You shiver as he finishes. He was only a small step away from you as he inched closer with each line he spoke, never taking his eyes off you. You are speechless. All you can do is look him in the eyes, watching as he gently brushes away your hair from your eyes.
"It's... it's beautiful. Did you write it?" You ask, snapping out of your daze.
"No. No, I don't. I believe this is 'My tears richochet' by Taylor Swift."
"Taylor Swift?" You repeat it stupidly, swallowing and trying to calm your rapidly beating heart that aches with the desire to kiss him. You know you can't. Not in the light of day. Never in plain sight. And it hurt you that you wanted a man who could never be yours.
"In another life, I would be a London boy." You laugh with him about it. Suddenly he looks around seriously, and when he sees that Coriolanus is the only one watching you, he takes a step towards you and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. "You're... I didn't expect anyone in the Capitol to have a heart. And certainly not as pure as yours, my sweet angel."
You shiver, unable to move away from him.
He leans down and steals you a quick but more passionate kiss than the first you two had shared under the cover of the night. His hand tangles in the hair at the back of your head as he opens your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moan. Common sense screams at you to step away, but you can't. You cup his cheeks in your hands, pulling him closer to you, stealing another moment with him as he pushes you against a pillar, hiding you from anyone's view.
Before anyone can notice that you two have disappaired, there's a loud bang in the arena. You scream as you feel a warm gust of air make you fall onto your back. The combined scream of both Coryo and Finnick's calling your name and the pounding of your head is the last thing you hear and feel before you pass out.
Consciousness comes back to you very slowly. At first, you think you're dead, but the ringing in your ears and headache wouldn't be symptoms of a dead person on the other side.
That's why you open your eyes slowly and very reluctantly.
You hiss as the light from the hospital lamp hits your eyes. You cover them with your hand when suddenly you feel another one on yours.
"Everything's fine, petal. You are safe with me. Move slowly, take your time."
"Coryo?" You ask, pushing both your and his hands away from your eyes as you narrow them at him. You sigh with relief and hug the blonde, who is also in a hospital gown. You managed to notice a few scratches on his face before you cuddled up to him shakily.
"Shh... it's okay, my petal. Your parents were here. They waited through the entire surgery, and when the doctor told them you were stable, they went home to get clothes for you. They should be back here soon. Together with Tgiris and Sejanus."
"Surgery?" You ask in surprise, only now feeling the grip of the bandages on your head.
"They put a few stitches on your head. Fortunately, it wasn't as deep a wound as we thought it was. You scared me. And the others." He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he wraps his arms tighter around you... like a snake.
"The arena... Finnick. Is he alive? What happened? Where is Finnick?" You panicked, moving away from him and ignoring his more affectionate than usual gestures. All you can think about is a district boy that you have grown to... to love in these few days when you got a chance to know him.
You don't see the anger rising in Coriolanus's eyes, nor do you recognise his fake tone as he pretends to be concerned. You're more concerned, scared, and distraught that you don't feel the weight of Finnick's necklace around your neck.
"He is dead. I'm sorry for your tribute, my petal." He says, slowly stroking your bare arms.
From the side, it looked like he wanted to comfort you, but he was only doing it because he wanted to feel your skin under his fingertips. Enjoy his reward. As well as that snow lands on top.
"What?" You ask in shock, not feeling his touch at all. Your world stopped. As if it were dying. You don't feel anything. Nothing at all.
"There was an attack of rebels. He didn't survive." He repeats it more emphatically, watching you carefully.
"No... no..." You shake your head, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. Tears that you don't even try to hold back. Just as your whole body trembles.
"It's not your fault, honey. You did an excellent job as a mentor. It could have happened to anyone."
"You do not understand! This isn't about stupid games! This is about him! About human life! How can you be so selfish and myopic?!”
You shout angrily, slapping your hands against his chest. Your tears are blurring any vision; you're still weak from the surgery, so when you get tired, he pulls you into his arms and presses your head to his chest, rubbing your back as you cry into him.
Into a man who took the opportunity to get rid of the inconvenience of your tribute. Along with the necklace he gave you. Coriolanus was furious when he saw it on your neck as he carried you out after pushing Odair right into the spot where, a second later, a large piece of debris fell from the ceiling.
Once again, Coriolanus' perceptiveness worked to his advantage.
And now you were his. Only his. He made sure there were no traces of Finnick Odair left. After all, his First Lady couldn't be sullied by a district boy.
"Don't cry over him. We are all we need anyway, my little petal." He whispers against your skin as he kisses away your tears.
You're too busy mourning your tribute and too drugged to do anything. So he uses this to his advantage and fucks your face with kisses before finally leaning in to taste your lips.
He moans into your mouth, not caring about the slightly salty taste of your tears, and gently wraps his hand around your neck. You mumble something into his mouth, pressing your hand against his chest to push him away.
But he doesn't give up. He sits you on his lap and places kisses on your neck. You gasp, clinging to him. He rests his forehead against yours and kisses you once again. He lifts your hands and makes you tangle them in his hair. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you in until your chests are pressed together.
He ignores Lucy Gray's singing echoing through the private room in the hospital your parents bought for you to get better and holds you close to his chest, pressing tender kisses to your cheeks, lips, nose, forehead, and neck—everywhere his greedy, eager mouth can reach.
You can't move. Because of the drugs they drugged you with, so you can't feel pain, or because you don't want to move, you don't know yet. In some strange way, the feeling of closeness comforts you, and your stupid brain and heart try to trick you into thinking it's right. After all, Coryo saved you, and he always saved you. He was always there for you. Always close to you. Unconsciously, you start kissing him back. He moans contentedly, rubbing himself against you.
He refrains from doing anything more and pushes you off of him, keeping your head on his shoulder and his arms around you as he places small kisses on your temple and tenderly, occasionally reaching up to kiss your lips as the painkiller drip he unscrews a little makes you melt and surrender completely to him.
He holds you as you fall asleep in his arms, thinking about how he can make sure his songbird wins. He reduced her competition anyway by hastening Odair's death, but he must be sure that he wins Plinth's prize so he can finally claim you fully for himself. He wouldn't endure another district boy near you.
Coriolanus knew that hope was dangerous. Love was fatal and destructive if you didn't control the one you cared for. And jealousy... jealousy brought out people's primal, animal instincts.
Just like the Hunger Games.
He looks at your sleeping, peaceful form, and he presses a kiss on your lips. He smiles, seeing how cuddled up to him you were and how you were in need of his warmth and touch, of the security he provided and will always provide for you. You were worth every sin. His petal. His little angel. His future First Lady and mother of his children. He will adore you. You'd forget about this district underdog once he won; he was sure of it.
After all, he was the only victor Panem could have.
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