#i cant remember the title exactly

[sassydefendorflower]

In case of their death, each Bat has a dedicated spot where they keep their will/private messages to different members of their family/their friends.

It makes sense in their line of work.

Tim's is a hard drive, no surprise there, but he made sure the code to access it was just stupid enough that most of the family would have to come together to crack it (and even then, they still have to call Bart for the final clue) - it’s something stupid and sentimental, something Bruce would never have guessed Tim would choose as a password. Maybe Quadruple Summersault. Or Short Pants. Or Second Mask. Or Always Be Prepared. Or maybe just I Love You.

Babs has a lot of video messages just in case. She wrote code that would automatically send her last words to everyone she cherished (her dad, the Bats, the Birds of Prey, her co-workers at the library) should she forget to enter the I'm Still Alive Code. (she has to stay at the hospital once without her phone and accidentally sends her last words to everyone - Gotham is chaos for a day until people manage to check in on her).

Cass has already hidden all her goodbyes in the rooms of those she thinks deserve it. Once she is gone, she hopes Bruce will find the letter in her nightstand. The one that says "my words are still here, you just have to look for it" - which is a bit ironic, considering most of her letters consist of funny cartoons and nice memories captured in the chicken scratch of someone who might never be a portrait artist but can undoubtedly catch a moment in time with just a few strokes of a pencil.

Dick updates his will every couple of months, just to be safe. And his letters? His final words? Those are usually stored with a civilian friend or two. One batch is definitely kept at Titans Tower. All of these people have instructions to send them once the news of his death has hit the public. His letters are unusually long, filled with jokes and anecdotes, and a lot of things he never quite managed to say before. For someone who likes to talk, Dick is awfully good at saying nothing. But that's not how he wants to die - at least not this time, so long letters it is.

Jason doesn't have a lot of letters, or a lot of anything really. He just has a very detailed will. A binding legal paper that explains exactly what the family is supposed to do with his body. He's not gonna take any more chances with this. At the end of his will, there is only one addendum: I love you. Please let me be dead. Nothing more - nothing less.

Steph is a bit obsessed with the details of her death, maybe because her first close encounter resulted in a complete loss of agency. She wants to plan it down to the smallest bit, and since she knows she cant do that, she plans everything else. Where she wants to be buried, what songs should be played, what kind of food should be offered... and in each of these instructions there is a personal message hidden just within. She wants Bruce and Tim to carry her coffin, carry her one last time. She wants Cass to dance at her funeral, and Babs and her mom to write the speeches. Small love letters hidden in a search for control.

Damian is needlessly good at compartmentalizing, or maybe its because he's just twelve. He should think of himself as immortal, and nothing is crueler than the fact that he doesn't. He has a will, hidden underneath his mattress because he's too young to actually request legally binding documents. And he has letters and paintings and notebooks - in the hopes that when they find them they'll remember him as a boy and not a weapon. For someone so desperately striving for the title of Robin, Damian mostly wants to be remembered as a son.

For a long time Duke didn't partake in this "family tradition". Because he saw himself as outside of them, as someone with parents, as someone with a home. But a dozen close calls, and suddenly mortality becomes something else. So he saves his will on the Batcomputer, addressed to his parents but protected by Bruce. And he writes small notes. Thoughts. Ideas. Things he thinks they will appreciate should he be gone one day. And he leaves them lying around. Maybe the mark he makes is hidden in the small things. The post-it notes and exploded overhead lights. Duke would be fine with that.

And then there is Bruce, who - in a way - cannot die. His legacy is the Cave, his brain a part of the mainframe they use to fight crime. And he knows that. He knows that no matter where he goes, he will never be really gone. So he makes sure that one day - long after he has passed - the Batcomputer destroys itself. To set them free. To leave them with the physical memorabilia of Bruce Wayne, and no longer with the desperation of the Bat. It's the biggest love letter Bruce can imagine writing - the possibility of being free.

#batfamily #bruce wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #dc #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #barbara gordon #batman #death tw #grief #mortality #headcanon

[privitivium]

thoughts i have abt prosciutto and melone ( seperate ) w/ a m s/o that i may write into a thorough ficlet :3

i love oscillating in-between hyper fixations. sorry for any mistakes ;p

cw;; fucking melone w/ stand,,

( mischaracterization,,, ahem,, i try but it is inevitable as i am merely forgetful... )

prosciutto;; simply just taking a shower together,, like,, simply forcing this guy to unwind with you while you clean him up hrmmghh. i like the intimidating apathetic type with a "himbo" type. im sorry its repetitive but omg its my favorite to think that a brooding mean guy is the one that takes ur "moronic cock" and begs to be filled with cum.,, cant see prosciutto begging like that but at the same time i can..

in the shower; briefly skin to skin as you stand under the nozzle raining below scalding water on top of ur naked bodies,, and you, mindlessly talking about whatever popped into your head just to fill the air,,, for example: "yeah, you know.. if i was a dog, i would want to be a borzoi. those things look pretty damn mystical as everyone makes them out to be." as you scrub a loofah sopping with your bodywash along his shoulders, unconcerned with the fact that you were the only one talking,, but you knew how much he subtly enjoys hearing you talk about stupid shit,,. "or you know.. you'd totally be a borzoi.." while he merely stands there, head tilted up and listening to the low hum of your voice ranting about prehistoric shrimp..

melone;; a simple thhought about fucking him,, saying smth outloud about fucking him in doggy style but he corrects about the position, or, literally just fucking him with ur stand,, i imagine a humanoid.. but all that matters is that it has a hard and heavy cock that stretches his insides into oblivion like a knotted tentacle dragon dildo he would probably totally experiment with - his naked chest and flushed, teary expression pressed into the blanket-less fitted-sheeted bed ( not wanting to get the blankets dirty as you said - trying to humilate him in a way by alluding to his 'dirty fluids' )- ur stand pulling melone's arms back in the position.. the power grab, was it?? you remember seeing visuals in the book he showed you, but can't exactly match titles to visuals with the feeling off his pulsating around you and practically sucking you in,, well, your stand in, as you sit in a comfortable chair, merely gazing at thr pathetic mess of ur bf before standing at the edge of the bed and ultimately jerking off and cumming on his face on purpose,, hrmm

#jojo =͟͟͞͞★ #x male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #x dom male reader #jojo's bizzare adventure x male reader #jjba x male reader #prosciutto x male reader #melone x male reader #jjba x m reader #male reader

[teag-writes]

Teachers Pet

guess who's back!! me!! yay!! umm another request from my pookie bear @etherealhozier so thank her for this one! (also apologies for the unoriginal ass title, i couldnt think of anything else so yeah!!)

cw: age gap (20 sumthing years idk i cant do math!), pet names, thigh riding, cumming on leg (yum), i think thats it!!

You knew from a small age you wanted to catch “bad guys” for a living. Which is why immediately after you graduated high school, you had already enrolled in one of the criminal behavioural classes at the college you attended, as one of your main classes.  

After about a month of being at your university, you had settled in quite nicely as you got to know all of your teachers and other classmates. Now the love for criminal activity and all things crime being the main reason you were attending college, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let anything get in your way. 

Until you saw him. Dr. Reid, or more formally known as the FBI agent turned professor, was the one who taught you and everyone else all about the interesting subject. He was tall, slender and had dark hair, and even darker eyes like he was hiding something. The way he talked so passionately about his life in the BAU made your stomach swirl. 

You knew this was completely wrong, having a crush on a man who was at least in his mid 40s, while you were in your early 20s. It almost disgusted you, the things you thought of letting him do to you, bending you over and smack-

“(Y/n). Are you paying attention?” A stern but quiet voice interrupted your daydreams as you looked at the man in front of you. 

“Yes sir. Sorry.” You said embarrassed. If he could read minds, you’d sure as hell be in a lot of trouble. 

He pursed his lips at you, forming a smile and giving you a nod and continued teaching. You groaned quietly, knowing this would be a long semester. 

—————————

After class, you’d packed your things up and were about to head off to your dorm for study time, when you were halted by a call of your name. 

“(Y/n). Can I speak to you for a moment?” Your professor had caught you red handed and you knew you were done for as you walked over to his desk, after he shut the door. 

“Your attention span has been decreasing lately. Is everything at home okay? Anyone bothering you?” He seemed genuinely concerned for you as he asked you. 

“No sir. Everything’s fine. I’m just… it’s hard to pay attention in class.” Your tone slipped out more seductive than it should’ve and you knew damn well what you were doing was wrong, but you couldn’t care less. Spencer swallowed harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as you spoke to him. 

“Oh? Why’s that (y/n)? I’m not boring you, am I?” He said with a raspy laugh that made your stomach flip. 

“No, not at all sir. If anything,” you said looking him up and down. “It’s quite the opposite.” 

You were so nervous with what you were doing right now that you felt like throwing up. You took a step closer to the man in front of you and looked at him. 

“No. Stop.” He whispered out. “This is utterly inappropriate and so, so wrong.” He stopped you in your tracks and you started at him with embarrassment and guilt. 

“Shit, I’m… I’m gonna go.” You quickly grabbed your things and rushed out the door, Spencer yelling after you but you didn’t turn back. 

That night in your dorm, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened as you got so frustrated with yourself. But within a few seconds, an idea popped into your head. If he really wanted you, you’d have to make him show you. And that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

—————————

The next day for class, you’d almost forgotten about what had happened when you remembered your plan. Make him want you. You thought to yourself if this was really what you wanted to do, yet you went through with the plan. You jumped out of your current skirt and replaced it with another, shorter, smaller one as you did the same with your shirt. You popped open the first few buttons and let your hair fall loosely over your shoulders, and decided to go with a dark red lipstick, with well as a pair of heels as you walked to class. 

Everyone had their eyes on you. Teachers, students, hell, everyone was gawking at you in awe. Whispers of shock fled peoples mouths as you walked into class and took a seat. You sat front row, as you always do, and waited for class to begin. The moment Spencer walked in, you stopped breathing, remembering that this was all for him. 

“Good morning class…” Spencer trailed off of his sentence as he saw you, and let out a choked cough.  “Pardon me, I must’ve had something in my throat. Please take out your notebooks, we will be talking notes today.” The whole entire time Spencer was speaking, he didn’t take his eyes off you once. And that continued throughout the whole lesson. 

By the time class was done, everyone had made their way out as you remained last again, trying to pack up quickly when an angry seeming voice halted you once again. 

“(Y/n). We need to talk.” Spencer didn’t seem impressed at all, but that only filled you with more lust. You gave him a warm, innocent smile and sat back down as he closed his door again. 

“Is something wrong, Dr?” You batted your eyelashes at Spencer and you hated every second of it, but you needed him. 

“Don’t call me that.” He had a furious look on his face, as he stepped closer towards you. “What’s going on with you today? The makeup and clothes, I mean.” 

You playfully spoke back to him as he asked you a question. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He groaned as you spoke to him, tipping his head back slightly. “Don’t play dumb with me, (y/n). You know what you’re doing.” 

He lunged forward to you and grabbed your wrist, hard but not too hard. 

“Is it working, Dr?” You purred back at him, and that only made things worse as he gently put his hand around your neck. 

“Yes. Yes it is, (y/n). Your little “whore” getup makes me sick. God, you don’t know what you do to me.” He said growling back at you. As he continued his grip on your neck, another hand made its way down to your legs and stopped at your heat. 

“Fucking soaked. Bet you’ve thought about this hm? Me pinning you against this wall and fucking you raw?” 

You moaned at his harsh, lustful words as he continued circling your clit through your panties. His grip tightened when you didn’t answer, making you squeal loudly. 

“Answer me. Have you thought about this, (y/n)? 

“Yes.” Was all you managed to breathe out. 

“Atta girl.” He praised you as he let go of your neck, sitting back down his desk chair. You stared at him with confusion, not knowing what to do. 

“C’mere.” He patted his thigh and motioned you to come sit on his lap. You immediately complied, straddling yourself right over his bulge, making you gasp. 

“If you want this so bad, you’ll get off on my thigh while I grade these papers.” He cooed gently at you, moving the hair out of your face. The angry man that was there seconds ago, was now gone. You whimpered at his command, as you knew you were going to have to work for it. 

“I know baby, I know. You’ll be okay.” He praised softly, as he leaned in for a kiss. You let his tongue swipe yours, as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you moan. He pulled apart from the kiss and you groaned at the loss of contact. 

“I know you wanted me to fuck you, but there’s consequences when you come into my office dressed like that. I’m being nice and at least letting you get off, hm? Such a good girl.” 

You couldn’t even be mad at him, his sweet tone had taken complete control over you. You started moving your hips against his leg, slowly and painfully, eliciting a moan from your lips that only made him twitch under you. You slowly started to speed up your movements, already feeling your muscles spasm over his cock. His hands made their way from the papers on his desk to your hips, moving them expertly against his leg. He saw that you were getting tired, so he naturally bucked his leg repeatedly into your wet cunt. 

The familiar coil in your stomach began to break apart and you came tortuously hard on his leg with a loud moan, not caring if anyone heard. He bucked his leg into you again, riding you through your orgasm as you let out sweet little whimpers. 

“Shh shh, I’ve got you baby. It’s okay. Good girl.” All the little praises he mumbled to you made you needy enough to come again, but you couldn’t. Instead, you sit there with your head on his shoulder, all fucked out because of him. 

#spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #mgg

[badlydrawndavekat]

hey internet (ALTERNATIVELY TITLED: GOD FUCKING DAMNIT DAVE.)

CG: WELCOME TO THE BLOG YOU TUMBLR DEGENERATES. CG: THIS IS AN ASK AND ROLEPLAY BLOG DEDICATED TO DAVE AND KARKAT. SO YEAH, THE ASKBOX IS OPEN, JUST DON'T BE WEIRD. TG: hey tumblr girls TG: this was actually my idea im just dragging karkat along kicking and screaming TG: wait dude you arent holding the phone right CG: I AM HOLDING IT CORRECTLY DOUCHENOZZLE. TG: why do you gotta hold it up so high like its your tinder pfp TG: yeah definitely going to pull all the chicks with that flattering angle CG: I AM SO FUCKING CLOSE TO DELETING THIS BLOG YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW. TG: wait nononono karkat how are we going to be the best influencer couple if we cant run an ask blog TG: dont you wanna tell the other straight influencer couples to take a hike TG: because they dont stand a chance against team davekat CG: THAT DOES SOUND VERY TEMPTING YES. CG: NOW PLEASE SHUT YOUR MOUTHHOLE BEFORE THIS INTRO GETS TOO LONG. CG: THIS ACCOUNT IS ONLY RUN BY ONE PERSON (THAT'S FUCKING SAD) AND YOU CAN REFER TO HIM AS MOD KV. CG: HE'S THE ONE THAT WILL BE DRAWING ALL THE SHITTY ART. TG: honestly this intro post is gonna be the highest quality art here CG: YEAH EXACTLY. CG: DON'T BE AFRAID TO DROP ME OR DAVE AN ASK, JUST REMEMBER TO SPECIFY WHO IT'S FOR. OR REQUEST SOME SHITTY (SAFE FOR WORK) DAVEKAT DRAWING I DON'T KNOW. CG: AGAIN, THIS BLOG IS RUN BY ONE PERSON SO NOT EVERYTHING CAN BE ANSWERED. TG: karkat bet me 20 boonbucks that this blog isnt gonna last a month TG: im gonna be proving him so fucking wrong

#homestuck #dave strider #karkat vantas #davekat #bdhs #badly drawn

[leastdepressedomorifan]

alright so i think most of us can agree that kusuo is like a 70 yr old grandma when it comes to the internet so i have to ask what the hell does kusuos search history look like? or arens for that matter arens would probably be "how to leave biker gang" "how to leave biker gang when you are the leader" "how to act like a high schooler" also a terusai headcanon for substance kokomi steals blankets in her sleep (yoinked from a fic that had end racism in the title cant remember it exactly) but due to this kusuo sleeps wrapped inside his blankets that he had kusuke make as heavy as humanly feasible and kokomi finds it adorable but absolutely horrible when its her turn to do laundry

#saiki k #disastrous life of saiki k #saiki kusuo no ψ nan #saiki kusou no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k. #tdlosk #saiki kusuo #kusuo saiki #teruhashi kokomi #kokomi teruhashi

[jayphoenic]

Tumblr MLB Lila (Salt) Bashing Prompts/Fics Recommendations 3

The Other Diplomat Kid by @musicfeedsmysoul12

Sam Williams goes to Paris when their dad temporarily takes over the title of diplomat to get away from their grandfather. They end up meeting a girl everyone in the diplomat circle knows is a liar.

Fake Lila Rossi AU by @ladyanput

So it was that night that Lila approached this girl, befriended her, and later offered her a deal;

Lila would pay her handsomely for her services. To act as her double. Lila promises to pay for the plastic surgery, anything she needs to look exactly like Lila. Besides, who wouldn’t want to be one of the biggest influencers in Paris? The girl does the charity work, get down and dirty, get Lila a good image, while Lila enjoys the high life. But they plan in carefully so that the two are never seem at the same time, even if they were in different places.

Fortune Reversal by @cornholio4

They put their paws together and in unison used the incantation that activated the magic of the Fortune Reversal. Plagg let Tikki take the reigns as she turned Marinette’s fortune positive and jsut because she decided to be a petty Kwami she also decided to reverse the fortune of Lila.

Rate this (Trust is Hard to Come By) by @unmaskedagain

Lila looked honestly confused. She had missed something, and it was big. “What’s going on?”

Nino glared at the girl; his eyes red, tear streaks his face. “Those numbers tell the world how much Ladybug trusts you. Or how much she doesn’t,” He said darkly, thinking about his own number and his actions against the girl he once called his best friend. “And why.”

“The lower the number,” Adrien added. “The less she trust you.”

Remember some chapters are longer than others

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

Taglist:

@lazyeasyaddict @aludhazie @lonestarfangirl2014 @gingerdaile @virgil-is-a-cutie @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole @erb23 @miraculous-ladybug-stufff @thefullmetalfairy @im-tired-101 @rubybee5 @mewwitch @fantasyfandommaiden @mariloki4 @novicevoice @graduatedmelon @cheyj05 @sparklyaxolotlstudent @tails-of-a-dragon-rider @caycay-lee @crazylittlemunchkin @smartlanceisreal @lostinday @dagnysdawn @i-cant-think-of-one-meh @sassakitty @alicesangelofmusic @the-navistar-carol @wrecker-radioactive @toftbmh @whimsicalsandmusings @lugluh @ml-miraculouslady @unabashedbookworm @akittycat24stuff @sillyandquest @madd-kwami @naturegreenr @irontimetravelflower @starstruckstarlightpenguin @255940g @dreamer2 @staren3rgy101 @spottedbug @weirdness2020 @chaoticmistake

#mlb fic #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #miraculous fanfiction #tales of ladybug and cat noir #marinette dupen chang #mlb marinette #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fandom #ml class salt #alya salt #adrien salt #ml salt #Lila salt #lila gets exposed #lila exposed #class salt #fanficiton #masterlist #fanfiction recommendation #marinette deserves better #fanfiction recommendations #mlb #adrien agreste #mlb adrien #adrien agreste salt #mlb salt #lila salt #lila rossi salt #bustier salt

[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. 

#clato #clato fanfic #cato and clove #arwbfb reactions #arwbfb tag #always remember we're burned for better tag #the hunger games fanfic #careers fanfic #the careers hunger hames #marvel thg #glimmer thg #cato hadley #clove kentwell #cato and clove fanfic #thank you. All of you #I love you all so much.

[the-s1lly-corner]

ADMIN I GOT A JUICY. JUICY IDEA.

Remember the Slenderman ask. Welp. I want him as a stuffed animal now.

Reader is mostly the same, exept forrr... lets say they have children. And pets. It's up to your interpritation how they got em i trust you.

And lets say they're close. Real close. Like "you weren't home today so i came in and watered your plants" close. Domestic closeness. Talking so much they can sometimes predict what the other will be doing/saying right now.

Reader is very affectionate but obv respects slendy so they just turn to actions and words to show him they care(although it can be a little hard for them to truly know what they're feeling and how to express emotions sometimes).

So, one day Slendys brother(not that one through.) comes for a casual chit-chat. "So how are things with you and reader? Plan to move together any time soon?" "No, why would we do that?" "Oh well i just throught with the nature of your relationship it would ve the next step, naturally.. you've been together for so long!" "..we're not together romantically, if that's what you're implying." "...you're literally raising kids together what do you mean." "....w.wbhjat."

Cue panik. He goes to talk to reader and they're like. Oh shidt. It do be not so just friendly.

Can be just queerplatonic or romantic, both are cute i think:3

Slenderman x slender-being!reader !

genuinely dont know what all to title this post since its so specific so i recommend for anyone reading this who isnt the silly requester to read through the request ueueue rolls around, im gonna get silly!

honestly i dont think slenderman would know much about romance and marriage. like he knows what they are but he doesnt know... everything about it. especially if its in terms of human stuff, with the rings and all that. you know? mostly because he doesnt exactly leave his woods and the number of people/creatures he actually properly interacts with and forms bonds with is very rare and so far, none were romantic...

and yet here he is, tending to your home in his woods that youve made for yourself, while youre away doing god knows what... it would be a shame if the plants in your home dried, or dust started to settle... or worse someone wandering into it when they arent allowed inside... though, thats even assuming they even manage to get that far into the woods given how possess of the area slenderman is

since he doesnt really have a basis to... base your relationship around, it doesnt take until someone else pointing out the dynamic to him. namely, the creatures he calls brothers

are they actually related in admins au? were they just created by zalgo at the same time? do they have the same genetics? honestly admin hasnt decided yet but they still view each other as siblings!

that aside, slenderman would definitely be in some form of denial. him? this man eating monster who mostly lives in solitude? the same one who has never felt the embrace of another person (/j but now that i think about it....)

THAT slenderman?

hell i dont even think its proper denial because he thinks he cant have those feelings.. not i think its denial because this really cant be what it is, right?

this leads to him doing what he does best; silently following someone.. usually in order to spook them out of the woods or to... hunt... but this time, hes simply observing you, trying to figure out if you're in the same boat at him

but you're just so vastly different from him in nature and personality that its hard to pinpoint your thoughts... sure he can read minds; i think most slender beiings can do that; but i dont think they can do it on other slender beings you know

doesnt approach you about it though, so youre going to be the one to ask him what the hell hes doing... again due to limited contact with others hes not the best at expressing his feelings or thoughts outwardly, hell even inwardly its weird for him but thats aside the point

i think im going to leave the ending open on what becomes of your relationship; but i think given how the reader is, they invite him into their home to talk things out with him. are you surprised that he has a possible crush on you? ....only a little since again, this is THE slenderman we're talking about... less that he may have feelings for you, but more so that you just thought he was on the aromantic spectrum

and thats no diss to my fellow aros; honestly i can easily see slenderman being greyromantic or demiromantic :3 ... maybe more so demiromantic, me thinks

rolls around

the ideas are not ideaing i apologize

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #slenderman x you #slenderman x reader #slenderman imagine #slenderman headcanon #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagine

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Alright, today yesterday I read chapters 17-21 and I sure have a lot of thoughts about Rhysand now. can you guess if theyre positive or negative? I'll give you a hint, its not the one that starts with a p

But before we get into that, can I just say, why the hell is everything happening so goddamn quickly YOURE ALL IMMORTAL. like, heres a rough timeline of acomaf so far: three months of Feyre being miserable in Spring post-UTM, then Rhysand takes her for one week, then Feyre's back in Spring for three weeks, then Rhysand takes her again for one week, then its less than three weeks of Feyre being back in Spring before Tamlin locks her in the manor and Rhysand and Mor take her back to the Night Court. Its been barely half a year! The reason Im bringing that up is first of all, it very much seems like Feyre is already beginning to warm up Rhysand at this point when that is absolutely not enough time for that after what he did to her. And second of all, theyre already demanding so much of her when everyone except for Rhys hasnt even spent 24 hours with her in total. And she just agrees to everything?? Right off the bat, basically the only way this makes any sense is if Rhysand is mind controlling her

Also, this is only semi-related, but i swear I remember Mor wearing a red dress to their first get-together at the HoW and Feyre not reacting to it at all ?? Also, Cassian siphons, they were specifically like a fire-y red what the hell. Now, was that just a mistake or did Rhysand use his mind powers to turn off the part of Feyre's brain that gets triggered at the sight of the color red so she wouldnt ruin his family reunion? You decide.

Alright, now lets talk about Feyre. Ive had some trouble properly analysing her the past few chapters because I was really focused on trying to figure out what exactly made her so unhappy at the spring court vs why she likes the night court so much when they seem very similar. It seemed like her motivation was flip-flopping all over the place, similar to chapters 1-3, but she already came across as far less traumatized somehow, so it felt weird that she would still have so much trouble really articulating what she wants, even to herself. But then I realized, its not that shes flip-flopping, her motivations are just contradictory; she wants to be an important political player who gets to Do Stuff but she doesnt want anyone to pay any attention to her, which is why having an empty title and no actual power staying in a city full of people who dont care if their high lord is just walkin around right beside them is so appealing

And its really frustrating because its another instance of her just getting what she wants right away instead of having to go through any character development. Shes bad at communicating and instead of even attempting to work on that, she just gets a mindreader for a soulmate, and she cant do smalltalk with nobles in order to earn their respect as Lady of Spring and instead of learning to adapt or putting her foot down and refusing to deal with the courtly bullshit at the cost of her political power, she just gets a leadership position that was quite literally made for her.

Somewhat related to Feyre being bad at politicking, they keep bringing up the fact that Tamlin just wanted her to throw parties and wear pretty dresses and maybe pop out some sons at the spring court and its just so annoying. Of course, much has already been said about how ironic it is when you consider how she ends up in ACOSF so Im not gonna go into detail on that but I did want to mention it. Also, parties and other social gatherings were a pretty important way for (noble) women who were kept out of politics to still participate in them in the past, and even if we take out the misogyny that just suddenly materialized in this book, Feyre cant read, doesnt know this land and barely knows what its like being the daughter of a rich guy, much less an actual noblewoman, of course she cant do much but sit around and reassure people that everything is gonna be alright by virtue of her presence

Speaking of the weird misogyny, its so baffling to me the reason shes being objectified and dehumanized (no pun intended) is that shes a woman whos seen as only good for child-rearing, when it really should be her being objectified and being dehumanized by being put on a pedestal for being the Saviour Of Prythian. It seems so obvious like, Ive been rotating some ideas for an ACOMAF-rewrite AU type thing in my head since before I even started reading this book, and one of the first things I decided was that everyone was gonna call feyre The Cursebreaker and nothing else and she would feel really weird and bad about it. I literally dont think anything wouldve changed if her being objectified was a more personal issue rather than something resulting from systemic misogyny, other than the fact that Rhysand couldnt be a feminist in-universe if that was the case

Now, before I move on to the next thing I wanted to talk about, I wanna quickly explain what I mean by "the misogyny just materialized in the second book" because some people might say "oh, but the first book had misogyny as well" and it definitely did but not to the same extent. ACOTAR was kinda weird because it seems to be a pretty egalitarian world, Feyre doesnt think its weird that a woman is a mercenary and while considering that the Spring Court might have a High Lady instead of a High Lord, she doesnt say anything about how it would unusual to have a woman be a leader, but it has this coating of "period-typical misogyny" over it, seemingly just because its what you expect from these kinds of pseudo-medieval european-inspired fantasy settings

So you still get all women being expected to wear dresses and Feyre being an exception for not wanting to wear one and when Feyre daydreams about getting rid of her sisters, she daydreams about marrying them off rather than daydream about them getting jobs or something. But even with that, while Feyre is considered a bit strange for not wanting to wear a dress at the Spring Court, she still ultimately gets to just wear pants without it being a big deal. And then we get to ACOMAF and suddenly theres FGM thats completely normalized, domestic abuse, women being expected to do child rearing and "continue the bloodline" by default even though children were supposed to be super rare and fae should absolutely not structure their lives around them and Feyre being absolutely baffled at the idea of a political leader having a second-in-command thats a woman. And again, it very much seems like the only reason for that is that it makes Rhysand look better if hes recuing women in general from systemic inequality, rather than just rescuing a single woman from her personal problems

And with that, lets finally talk about my most detested, Rhysand Nolastname. He fucking sucks man. In a past post I made a point about comparing specifically ACOTAR!Tamlin with specifically ACOMAF!Rhys because it thought it made sense to compare Tamlin when hes written as a love interest to Rhys being written as a love interest, but honestly, theres so little difference between Tamlin being written as an antagonist in ACOMAF and Rhys being written as a love interest that it feels kinda pointless now. Like, Feyre is upset that Tamlin wont tell her anything about the politics happening, but is inexplicably fine with Rhysand not telling her what he wants from the summer court, she hates meeting with Tamlins associates and having meaningless smalltalk with them but likes meeting Rhysand's, she doesnt like Tamlin flaunting his wealth but is fine with all of Rhysand's expensive bullshit, literally the only difference between them is that Feyre likes one and and hates the other, again, for no real reason because they are the same. Well, the same in their treatment of Feyre, Rhysand is arguably a worse person who has done and is still doing a lot more harm on a larger scale but Im posting this in the anti-rhys tag so you already knew that

Anyway, thats it for now, this got kinda long but I hope you enjoyed it

#anti acotar #anti sjm #anti acomaf #anti rhysand #anti feysand #flames and darkness liveblog

[bridgyrose]

Would you mind doing something based on this by wuyi1551

(@wuyi1551 looks like I have another request from your wonderful art! Hopefully I did this well for you)

“Why wouldnt you want to leave your money to me?” Cinder asked as she took another sip from her wine. “If we were to get married, that would be the best way to make sure your wealth is used, right?” 

Raven gently swirled the wine around in her glass and smirked a bit as she sat the wine glass down. “Yes, but remember, if I were to get married to you, it would be for the benefits we’d get as a couple, not because I love you. And besides, if I were to give you a cent of anything I had, then I’d have to make sure my daughter and the rest of her family would get something too. While it would be amusing to write a will where no one gets anything, I… I still have my own shortcomings I need to make up for and giving my money away to charity will help clear things up.” 

“So this would be a marriage of opportunity and not love?” 

“Oh, I still love you, but this world isnt meant for those who wish to be single.” 

Cinder rolled her eyes. “Just like this world isnt for those who are weak? I know exactly how you’ve amassed the fortune you have and it wont take long for someone to realize that everything you have was taken from those you deem as weak. Giving it away will only open you up to that kind of investigation, even if you’re dead. Do you really want that kind of legacy to be left behind about you? You’ve taken strides to remove yourself from that old Bandit Queen title you had, do you really want to bring it back?” 

“But for all this talk of love, are you sure its me that you love and not the benefits of being with me?” Raven sliced into the chicken on her plate, her eyes locked on Cinder. “You never once have told me you love me, and now that we’re thinking hypothetically of marriage, you only seem to be concerned about my money and not about your love for me. So tell me, Cinder, do you love me?” 

“You know exactly why we’re getting married,” Cinder said as she clutched her burned arm, reeling at the remembrance of why it was scarred. “Mother feels like I’m the only “daughter” she has that she can consider expendable. That putting giving me to you will be the only way she’ll be able to keep her influence going in Mistral while her other daughters are married off to suitors in Atlas. Suitors of their choosing.” 

“Then lets spend the rest of our night enjoying ourselves and then we can go our separate ways.” 

Cinder looked up at Raven with a small smile as she lifted her wine glass and gently pressed it against Raven’s. She took another sip from her wine as the lights around her started to spin and her eyes started to feel droopy. Her cheeks felt warm to the touch, which didnt surprise her much as she checked the wine bottle, realizing it was the third one the duo had gone through. And before she knew it, she closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. 

Morning came rough for her as she groaned and woke up, stiff and sore from the night before. She sat up and paused when she couldnt move her arms from infront of her, the feeling of silk gloves over her hands and arms causing her to panic as she groggily got up. She nearly slipped off the bed as she stood up, only to be stopped by Raven’s hand. 

“Please dont move around too much, you’ll ruin your dress.” 

Cinder glared at Raven, her eyes glancing down at the white wedding dress she wore. “What do you think you’re doing?!” 

“Taking you as a bride,” Raven answered with a grin. “I *am* still a bandit queen and I take what I like. And while I still dont like your intentions, I like you. So, I’m going to take you.” 

“You cant just take me! Mother will be expecting a marriage contract-” 

“And you already signed one.” Raven grinned and pulled out a piece of paper tucked away in her cleavage. “And as far as anyone is concerned it was your idea.” 

Cinder’s eyes widened as she read the contract in front of her, stating that she would give up any claim to Raven’s money and be solely hers. “I-I didnt sign this!” 

“Not yet, but you will,” Raven said as she folded the paper up again. “You have two choices in front of you: be mine and give up any thoughts of being anything but mine, or I can let you go back to Atlas to your mother and let you take whatever punishment she’ll give you for letting me go.” 

Cinder glared and tried to snap at Raven, only to feel her teeth sink into a cloth that Raven held out in front of her. She tried to pull away until Raven pulled her back and tied it behind Cinder’s hend, gagging her. 

“That’s not how a bride-to-be should act. And since we both know that you’ll never go back to your mother, there really isnt much of a choice, is there?” 

Cinder quit fighting as she watched Raven tie a lead to the ropes around her wrists, all hope starting to fade as she was pulled along. Today would mark her first day as Raven Branwen’s wife, a decision that was no longer hers to make.

#rwby #raven branwen #cinder fall #drabble #angsty drabble #hellbirds #rwby hellbirds #a branwen's wife #a branwen's wife au

[askthelordsinblack]

Why call yourself the lords in black when y’all are the most neon weirdos I have ever seen before (no offense)

Because we live in the BLACK and White, that’s also why Webby is the Queen in White.

um because our hearts are black and all that.

Ummhello its Tjsmky andithink jts bevause weused towear black. coats and stuff— cloaks!!1! Thenwe swicthed to thefunkyclpoulors

I don’t remember exactly why we chose that name… did we even choose it? Or was it the Children? I cannot remember.

I AGREE WITH WIGGLY, BUT I ALSO CANT REALLY REMEMBER…

I wasn’t alive when they became ‘the lords in black’, I modeled my title off of theirs.

#in character #ask the lords in black #the lords in black #lords in black #pokotho #bliklotep #t’noy karaxis #nibblenephim #wiggog y'wrath #webby hatchetfield #pokey #blinky #tinky #nibbly #wiggly #webby #ask blog #ask #answered

[tatsumisheep3]

fic requests open!!

hihi!! as the title says, i'm currently taking requests for fics! ive been wanting to work on improving my writing and such along with making more actual fan content, and i thought that this would be a good place to start!!

the fandoms i will write for are:

adamandi

the art of pleasing princes

and our life: now & forever!!

what i will write:

ships

friendships

aus

fluff

angst

ocs

x mc (for olnf)

(and probably more that i cant remember at the moment lmao)

what i wont/cant write

smut

x reader

and some kinda specific things that i'll just dm you about if it's not anon and post with my explanation if it is anon :D

details

for ocs and mcs - please give me a good summary of the character, along with any necessary details for the story :3

length - you can request any length up until 5k words! just keep in mind it will affect how long it takes me to write it !! it wont match exactly, but it'll be around there

prompts - you can send in as basic or as detailed prompts as you would like to! the only things required are the fandom, characters, and what you'd like me to do with them! (in very general manner) length is helpful, but not necessary.

#adamandi #the art of pleasing princes #taopp #fic requests #fic requests open #(not tagging olnf cause oh my GOD there are way more people in that fandom and it's. mildly intimidating /silly)

[tiptapricock]

MCU Steven grant and erotic literature? Aka does he read Ice Planet Barbarians or smth

I’m not really familiar w any erotic lit series in particular so this isn’t off of personal experience on that front, but here are some ideas on his dynamic w it more generally! (And also these are getting longer than I mean them to but hEy I’m haVING FUN!!)

———

This was—Steven laughed to himself—this was not really working.

He’d been trying to do something adventurous, to experiment and expand his horizons. He’d had erotica on his shelf for years, a rather sizable collection having grown from his occasional snags of interesting covers or odd summaries, but he hadn’t actually made the time to sit down and read any of it.

Not that he hadn’t been interested, all genres of literature were fascinating and he’d been quite excited by a few of the volumes he’d picked up, there had just always been something else taking up his focus in his free time. Historical texts, translation guides, a fresh local poetry magazine, but…

Well, it had seemed like such a shame to leave them there, perfectly readable and not being read, so he’d decided to finally take a crack at one of the thinner ones.

Its cover and title had promised a supernatural romance, the man posed enticingly on the front cowering beneath the looming shape of a bulky, blue alien. Which had all seemed like good fun, in Steven’s opinion, but about halfway through he’d remembered what these books were often… for.

Well, he wasn’t really sure what the standard… interaction was, he hadn’t exactly gone to any book clubs on the topic, but he could definitely assume, based on how he’d reacted himself.

It had been just a slow, warm, build in his gut as the first more explicit scene got going, an odd thrill at the idea of almost… peeking at someone else’s private life, of something making the fantasy to work through for him. But then he’d started to get hard, and well… what the heck. These were common wank material, weren’t they? And what better way to relax than with a book and a bit of the old hands downstairs?

He’d tried for the most obvious path first (book in one hand, cock in the other) but that had proved an issue when it came to flipping pages. The only two possibilities being to do it one handed and fast (lest he ruin the momentum of the scene), or free up his other hand to flip more normally (which also wasn’t ideal, and made for a rather jerky kind of jerking off).

The next thing he’d tried was to set the book on a table or pillow to allow for easier page turning, but that had just proved to be awkward in situating himself towards it while still sitting up, and had made it harder to read from far away.

Which led to now, with his most recent attempt.

Steven was currently hunched over on his bed, laying mostly on his stomach over two large pillows and propped up by his elbows over the book. His body was pressing the pillows tight to the comforter, his cock slid into the soft, snug space between them, and he was doing his best to hump his way through the the rest of the chapter.

It was, as he was realizing now, really not working.

The friction felt nice enough. A bit rough, perhaps, without real lubrication, but perfectly suitable for him to grind his hips into for the time being. The cloth dragged nicely over his tip, the texture extra sensitive on smooth skin, dotting his breathing with soft gasps when he canted his hips just right and making him want to fuck into something even tighter. The book was nice enough, too. A bit cheesy, maybe, but enjoyably so, and definitely hitting the right beats to get him going.

The issue was just that they didn’t… go together. The book still shook with his thrusts, the words hard to focus on, and his attention was too split between one action and the other, both consuming different aspects of focus. He’d tried so hard to problem solve he didn’t even remember how the story had gotten to—he squinted, rereading the last few sentences—the current monologue on rectal examination.

It just wasn’t worth it.

Steven sighed, cheeks flushed as he laughed again, resigning himself, and leaned back to rest on his heels. He picked the pillows up off himself, tossing them over towards his laundry pile to clean later, and licked his lips as he went to grab the book again. It was sad to keep the thing unread, and he was perfectly happy for that to be his main focus at the moment.

He slipped off the bed and padded to the kitchen, leaning half naked against the counter as he put the kettle on. His dick slowly began to flag as he put his attention elsewhere, pleasure and little waves of arousal still mellowing beneath his skin, but he didn’t let it bother him. Instead, he let himself fall into a world of slick tentacles, and hypnotizing lights, and star crossed creatures that were learning to say I love you.

———

Send me a character, kink, or prompt, and I’ll do a short nsfw story piece!

(Also MacKay!Steven answer to this I did for fun)

#cot n balls #cot n balls writing #moon knight #moon knight 2022 #nsft #steven grant #steven grant smut #I guess? #I’m still figuring out the tags to use #if you DONT want to see this lemme kno

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

In another blog - sorry I dont remember- an anon said at the end the 'tinhats' like you were right. Now I believe NYC story about how HM and WK 1st meeting went terrible bc M sat at K sofa arm.

About how W turn out balanced, he was co-raised by other aristo families, ie the Van Cutsen, Diana was said to look up at the mother as a role model, and had weekly mandatory meetings with The Queen. W was carefully surrounded by good kids of society that even traveled with him, exception to Camilla son later. I find W proposal meh bc Africa is not K thing, but with the 'picked the biggest stone' story from his parents and Mr backyard, all in the field brother, the helicopter sounds surreal.

I think H was expecting the bodyguard to come with dads worries about his sexual life bc the story Ive seen about W was in a cruise in the Mediterranean on the yatch of a megarich friend of KC, also with an older women, sounds arranged. Around the same time it was rumored W had slept with KC goddaughter Tara, who denied. That was on The Sun cover and serious magazines articles. This is another thing about W he wants, no one never cared about him. I never could stand him and dont wish him well bc hes envy, entitled and damaging, but Im surprised to realise how abandoned he was. Like the title in BR Portuguese, he is a leftover and Meghan cant accept she got another trailer trash.

I'm constantly surprised at how many of those old stories turned out to be true. Yes, the sofa story now rings true.

In a way, Harry's upbringing was downright criminal and now we see the consequences. William at least got some attention. He got nothing.

I bet Kate and the Middletons were also a good, or at least normal, influence in Will's life. I remember rolling my eyes at all the "cheese toast" stories, but maybe that was exactly what he needed. Carole as a mummy substitute sounded pathetic a year about, but it's a lot more functional and normal than Meghan as a mummy substitute.

[ohitsmelaura]

i'm currently obsessed with ttpd and chronically obsessed with red queen, so here's a list of which songs i think fit which ship more and why i think they do marecal x mareven edition

obviously, spoilers

marecal:

fortnight feat. post malone (two people who are promised to another people but had a short affair and not touching each other now is ruining their lives exatcly exactly we heard that before)

down bad (you cant say mare wasn't in a "so fuck you if i can't have us" mood in war storm)

so long, london (change london for harbor bay and there you have it, king's cage epilogue)

but daddy i love him (but grandma i love her - cal's version)

fresh out the slammer (fresh out the slammer, i know who my first Cal will be to)

guilty as sin? (honestly, if you know the lyrics, you know i dont even have to explain)

loml (i wish i could unreCal how we almost had it all and "mr steal your girl then make her cry" too)

the alchemy (be serious, cal would play football irl)

the black dog (pubs usually remember me of marecal, and "old habits die screaming" says a lot about their on and off situationship in war storm)

the albatross (that's so Cal attracted to the danger she represented in red queen, then being destroyed for chasing her and then she was his lifeline in glass sword)

the prophecy (cal in the end of war storm like "i dont want the crown i just want my lightning girl 😞")

peter (not actually what happened, but the "wait for me" theme fits war storm's ending)

mareven:

my boy only breaks his favorite toys (bruh... are you really going to read this song title and tell me it’s not about mareven?)

who's afraid of little old me? (who's afraid of little old mare? MAVEN SHOULD BE)

i can fix him (no really i can) (she can't, no one can)

the smallest man who ever lived (he was sent by elara so yeah he was ACTUALLY sent by someone who wanted her dead)

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus (me and maven have a lot of things in common, one of them is sobbing to the sound of "If you want to break my cold, cold heart/Just say 'I love you the way that you were'")

how did it end? (i almost gave it to marecal bc of the dance mention, but i think mareven fits more bc 1- mare learned to dance with cal not with him and she preferred the lessons' song than the ball's song, so yeah mareven learned the right steps to different dances 2- while marecal have an on/off thing, mareven has a really slow but certain death)

#“oh where's the title track?” i dont like the title track so it's actually nowhere #i can do it with a broken heart fits both and this is a versus with no draws #rip maven you would love this album #red queen #mare barrow #tiberias vii calore #cal calore #marecal #mareven #ttpd #taylor swift

[tennessoui]

My god i’ve been reading bunch of your AUs here (my first and personal fav is regency au cuz i’m a sucker bc for misunderstanding angst >:3) but i keep finding out more and more AUs u’ve made and holy moly how can u keep up and remember each stories and lores? I sometime forget some AU’s lores when i come across certain tags and wanna go back reading it again.

Do u have a note for yourself so when u or someone have a brainstorming moment u look thru the note and write more juicy brainrot or u just wing it? If it’s the latter then man i’m impressed cuz i cant do it if i have millions of AUs of these 2 silly lil jedis

thank you for saying, I’m glad you’re enjoying going through my AUs on tumblr (and regency au is a great one to have be your favorite it’s such a fleshed out au 🥰)

I actually don’t have a running document of AUs where the brainstorming bits go or the facts though that probably makes sense to have lol - I do just remember the AUs by their title/tag! maybe not all the minute details, but that’s when I find the tag to do a quick reread (if I need to know in order to answer an ask or write a ficlet)

also why there are surely many discrepancies for different AUs lol I remember the general overview of pretty much every au I’ve created but the little circumstances will escape me pretty frequently like: is qui-gon dead in this au? How old is obi-wan? is anakin blond? I change that sort of thing around so much that it’s almost impossible to keep track but I could tell you exactly what the silence is golden au is about (Jedi/gffa little mermaid au where obi-wan loses his voice by way of sith holocron when anakin is a kid but they stay master&padawan and their bond becomes over the top strong and reeking of deep attachment) or the Mr. and Mr. Sith au (anakin, jedi, and obi-wan, sith, meet undercover and fall in love and decide to run off together without telling the other that they’re respectively a Jedi or a sith so they just think the other is a civilian) even though it’s been a really long time since I’ve thought about either of those AUs

I just think about them a lot when I’m replying to asks about them/building them up/writing fic for them, so all of that information just stays in my head!! same goes with fics on ao3 - I don’t reread my ao3 fics a lot but if someone gave me a line/paragraph from one of them I would probably be able to name it with little to no difficulty 🥰 i spent so many hours on these they’re burned into my brain like the worlds most niche and useless encyclopedia lol

#asks #I do think the more i talk think about an au the better I remember it #which is where asks come in ! #cause they always trigger slash prompt me to think of the au more and help build it out #and AUs where I write long ficlets for are way more stuck in #like I could tell you everything about the playmaker au #cause that’s the tumblr au I’ve probably written the most for