forged from spite.

little soldier boy, your heart is forzen, you breathe out ice. you play with lives, death, and memories, you keep threading the line so fine between martyrdom and lies. the past kills you every single time, yet you are reborn in the night. cato rivera | 28 | boxer

[catowtf]

gdibristol:

The boy’s question took Bristol aback, the barely concealed scoff falling from her lips before she could stop herself. “You’re asking the wrong person. Do you think if Barbie knew, Ken would’ve left?” His question was a stupid one, the blonde having no clue why she’d been cheated on so many times, but the inescapable fact that apparently, she couldn’t be what anyone needed or wanted. She kept her eyes from Cato’s, only meeting his gaze when he cracked a joke about being homeless. “You aren’t already? I figured you came over to sleep here whenever your cardboard box felt a little too cramped.” The corners of her lips quirked up slightly, betraying the fact that the blonde was merely joking. His next words brought a damper to an already serious feeling mood, the jokes they kept trading the only bit of light in the atmosphere. “Well unless you call stars exploding and the eventual death of our planet a happy story, I’d wager that yours are better than Cosmos.” Bristol’s eyes flickered down to Cato’s wound again, tugging the other gauze pad tightly over the exposed flesh. “Blood doesn’t bother me. I didn’t run screaming when you came in looking like a paper shredder got the better of you, did I? Though if you piss on my counter, I’ll bring out the hydrogen peroxide to clean up the rest of your battle scars. That shit stings.” She arched an eyebrow, glancing up at him, a bemused, but serious smile on her lips. Bristol hummed, lifting up the corner of her shirt, a faint scar on her hip visible in the kitchen light. “Fell over a stair railing in a crop top on my way back from a concert last May. Had to throw out my favorite pair of shorts all cause my flip flop slipped on the ‘nonslip’ strip on the stairs.”

What he thought was an innocent question provoked something else from Bristol, a response Cato didn’t expect. He was certain now that it was a metaphor for something else, something that went deeper than he thought for the blonde. “Well, Ken’s loss,” he responded, leaving it at that. Whatever situation it was, he wasn’t going to press for it. Mainly because he didn’t have the current attention span for it, but he also thought she didn’t want to speak about it. He shook his head at her joke, rolling his eyes as a small smile appeared on his lips. “I used to come over to sleep with your roommate. Now I come over before I bleed to death on the way home. Or when someone steals my cardboard box.” His last comment was an attempt to keep the atmosphere light, not wanting to fall into a more serious mood. He furrowed his eyebrows together at her next explanation about stars and planets. Confusion was evident with the creases on his forehead and squinted eyes, attempting to make sense of her words. “That’s morbid.” Ironic. A guy covered with bruises and blood claiming that as morbid. Not wanting to advancing on that, he pretended to return his attention back to the gauze. His fingers pressed down each side to keep it in place, hoping that he wouldn’t be asked to share his stories his own scares, not wanting to make something up. “Which is surprising. I thought you would at least call the ambulance or just leave me there to die. I’m sure this is much more fun than ‘Operation’. Your counter will be piss-free,” he expressed, throwing his hands up in defense, not wanting to feel the liquid against his skin. It was what he used to put on his wounds to prevent infections, watching it bubble on the spots and attempting to keep quiet from the sting. His eyes trailed up towards the scar against the pale skin, an eyebrow arched up in amusement as he listened to her story. He couldn’t help the snort that ran pass his lips. “That would’ve been a sight to see.” 

[catowtf]

gdibristol:

The words were out of Bristol’s mouth before she could stop herself, “It did, but he decided he liked Barbie’s friend Stacy better.” She didn’t glance up, far too preoccupied with coating her fingers with the Neosporin, but a part of her didn’t want to, not wanting to see whatever excuse for pity that would fill Cato’s eyes at her words. “You’ve got insurance? Apparently my front desk clerk must have neglected to put it in your file. Smart decision, though if you’re gonna fuck up, I’d suggest doing it in the next few weeks. From what I hear, our next president isn’t the biggest fan.” Gingerly pressing her fingers to the cut, Bristol began to spread the cream along the scrape. Reaching next to her, she pulled over a sealed gauze bandage, ripping the packaging open with her teeth. Pressing the pad to his scrape, her free hand reached for the medical tape, carefully taping the bandage to his uninjured skin. “Is that why you fight? Trying to win enough scars and stories to tell to impress the girls? Maybe I’m a rare exception, but I prefer happier stories, ones with good endings.”You’re not annoying me. What else was I going to do with my evening? Fall asleep in front of the tv? I can still do that after you leave. No infection means you won’t have to go to an actual hospital, plus there’s less chance of it scarring or killing you.” She glanced up for the first time, ripping open another gauze bandage and repeating the process on the other half of the scrape. His eyes flickered downwards to the wound she was patching up. “I thought these fights just involved punching the crap out of each other….”

Cato’s brows furrowed together at her words, casting his gaze down towards her before an eyebrow quirked up in curiosity, fully aware that the joke was another expression of a real experience. “What can Stacy possibly provide for Ken that Barbie couldn’t?” His question ran from his lips quicker than he was able to hold it back, not sure if she wanted to talk about it or if it was pushing it too far. “Comes with the job, Blondie. Ah, right, the soggy jack-o-lantern. He isn’t a fan of much, but if he does decide to cut that off, I guess I’ll just have to stop getting myself into fights. Or quit my job. And become homeless,” he ranted on, mumbling to himself. The stability and security of his job had him question himself several times. Once he grows older, he won’t possess the same abilities as he does now. If anything, he reached his peak already. However, that was his only skill, and without that job, there wasn’t much he had left to do. He held his reaction to pain inwards, keeping a straight, unbothered expression as if he couldn’t feel the throbbing and pulsing pain. By now, one would’ve thought he would be numb to all of his after the excessive amounts of cleaning up his wounds, but the pain was always the same. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have any of that to share,” he commented on it, his words dripping with honesty. “Probably get farther with whatever you were watching. Not having to see blood. Not having the chance of me possibly peeing on your counter because I still really need to do that,” he admitted, a lighter mood lifting onto his face as a small smile appeared on his lips. He shrugged, growing quiet for a minute. “Each punch has some story behind them.” With the context, it seemed fitting to the situation of these boxing matches, but the truth explained all his other scars. “Have any scars with a funny story?” 

[catowtf]

gdibristol:

Bristol barely heard the boy, let alone registered his words as she left to begin her raid of her medicine cabinet. Though her roommate was known to have a first aid kit, Bristol was pretty sure that she had depleted those resources long ago, the accident prone blonde needing her roommate’s assistance in putting herself back together several times a week. If she hadn’t used all the bandages in the house, she’d most certainly taken a toll on the supply of burn cream. Luckily, it didn’t appear that any of Cato’s injuries would require the burn medication. Ripping several drawers open, Bristol was able to cobble together an assortment of creams and bandages. She cradled her treasures in her arms as if a baby she was afraid to drop. 

Entering the room once more, Bristol rolled her eyes at Cato’s comment. She dumped the supplies on the table, the sarcastic comment flying off her tongue before she could stop herself “Oh yeah, most definitely, all part of the Barbie set I come with. I’ll give you an abortion next if you want. You’ve got insurance right?” Her eyes scanned over his knuckles, the scraped skin sure to be her next concern. A small chuckle fell from her lips. “I believe I just did.” The boy discarded his shirt and the cut was more visible. While it was nothing life threatening, she knew from experience that something like that would scar unless treated. “Alright,” she mumbled to herself, moving to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. Shaking the water off her hands, she dried them, walking back to Cato. Bristol picked up the Neosporin, knowing that his knuckles were in need of the hydrogen peroxide more so than his chest. She squirted out a small dab of the antibiotic cream, rolling the white dot around in between her fingertips, scooting forward before pressing her fingers to his scraped chest. “This stuff won’t hurt, but it’ll kill any of the bacteria that got in there. How’d you get this one?” 

“Does the set come with a Ken doll too?” He played along with her sarcastic comment, one that brought a chuckle to fight its way to the surface. “If I didn’t have insurance, I would be paying a shit ton of money for these check ups. I’m gonna say no on the abortion for now, though. Not planning on refraining from using a condom anytime soon,” he responded, laughing even though his voice was rough, breaking at the top from the pain. While she moved away to the kitchen sink, Cato cradled his injured hand in the other, looking down at it to assess the injury. He struggled to extend his fingers all the way, watching the whiteness of the knuckles that was masked with dried blood. His swollen eyes diverted down to his bare chest, assessing those injuries now. He grimaced as the damage that was going be left on his body, adding the memories of old scars. He didn’t mind too much. He never did take care of his scars and pains, hoping that he’ll get enough to cover the ones that his father had permanently left on him. At this rate, he was still able to point out which ones were caused by his father’s hands. “More scars equal more stories to tell,” he mumbled. They were visible in the boxing ring, and as long as people believed they were all from his matches, then hopefully, the more his opponent will doubt the outcome of the match. “So no more infection and I won’t be coming back to annoy you. Got it,” he grunted while a smile was still carved on his face, looking up at her from under his eyebrows. He looked back down at his body, figuring out which one she was referring to. “That’s the one for the match earlier today. I stormed out before I could get it checked out.” 

[catowtf]

gdibristol:

“Why watch it illegally when I could record it and watch it at the same time though?” Bristol had begun the practice when she realized that the air time was far later than she could keep up with. At first, she’d tried to compensate with more caffeine, but it’d only led to her messing up at her side job at the diner, mixing up orders and tables. Now she tried to watch it, but also recorded the program simultaneously so that when she inevitably fell asleep on the couch in front of the TV, she could see what she missed the next day. Nodding her head, Bristol didn’t comment on the brag. She could only imagine the lawsuit that was pending had Cato actually sent someone to the hospital. It was funny, this boy trying to be intimidating and tough, yet bleeding on her doorstep and relatively docile at the moment. Nor did she comment on the bit about father’s, her mind already trying to plan out how to best patch up the boy who was slung on her shoulder. It was obvious that despite what he said, he couldn’t find his way to the bathroom himself. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re going to sit down in my kitchen and try not to bleed on the table because I think I’m out of bleach wipes. And I’m going to go get my first aid kit and start putting you back together.” She nodded, as if confirming her own plan. Leading him in the opposite direction of her bathroom, Bristol slowly walked him over to her kitchen table, nudging a chair out for him to sit in. “Be right back,” she murmured, her cheeks flushing slightly from the offhand compliment. A few moments later she returned with a box of bandaids and Neosporin, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and big swabs of cotton gauze. Scanning the counter, she found a roll of masking tape and gleefully dumped her findings on the table, proud of herself for having gauze after all. “Are these all the cuts and bruises?” Her hand tugged on the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up briefly to make sure there weren’t any injures below the fabric. “Lose this, you’ve got a nasty scrape on your chest.”

“Or you can do that,” he mumbled his comment at the other option, not one he considered. Cato barely used the television to watch anything, mostly because it had no cable. Most of his time was spent on his laptop when it came to watching anything, from shows on Netflix, and if they weren’t on there, then he could easily find a link on Google. It wasn’t as if he had enough time to watch anything, however. He could start a new series, and it would take him a year just to finish it. With practice and competitions, his day was a routine that focused on going to the gym, going to the practice ring, and going to his fights on the days that he does have them. 

Cato parted his lips to object at her demands, seeing as how the restroom didn’t fall in that plan at all, but instead, his objection faltered as soon as he realized she was set on this. He mirrored her nod, confirming it as well. The pain from his knuckles was slowly but surely beginning to hit him, bringing his attention to them as he looked down at how bruised they were more than usually. They didn’t have their covering as they usually do in the rings. Gaining his balance by holding onto the chair with a hand, he dropped his body into it. His teeth clenched at the newfound piercing pain that he was starting to feel. That’s why fights at the bar didn’t have a stopping point to them until the bouncers or security comes. When the alcohol takes control of his body, it was hard to feel anything in that moment. 

“No promises on keeping your kitchen spotless,” he said as she walked away. His eyes scanned the visible bruises and cuts while she was away, realizing that the ones on his face were probably worse. His eyes narrowed as soon as he saw the supplies on the counter. “Okay, Doctor Blondie. I didn’t know you run your own clinic.” Cato shrugged at her question, not aware of his own wounds and their whereabouts. His eyebrow hiked at her newest demand which he simply obliged, pulling the shirt over his head, wincing as soon as the fabric lost contact with his skin. He masked this discomfort as a smirk tugged on his lips. “If you wanted to see me shirtless, all you had to do is ask.” 

[catowtf]

gdibristol:

Bristol noticed his eyes scanning her up and down and she suddenly felt ashamed of her attire, the solar system decorated fleece set suddenly seeming out of place, even in her own living room. She bit her lip, stepping to the side to allow him into her home. His laugh brought a small grin to her face, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I was watching Cosmos. It’s a new episode that I haven’t gotten to see.” Cato seemed to waver a bit and Bristol watched him gripping the door, his bloody knuckles turning white with the effort. “I try. If this is how you look when it doesn’t go how you want, I’d hate to see the other guy when it does.” His eyes darkened and even Bristol could tell this wasn’t exactly his favorite topic. “Well one would hope. I doubt any father would want to meet the boy who fucked their daughter one night and never spoke to her again.” She reached forward, taking his hand off of her door and draping his arm around her shoulder, supporting his weight as he obviously couldn’t do it himself. “Come on. My bathroom is right down the hall. I think I have some bandaids and maybe some gauze in the medicine cabinet.”

“There are some illegal sites you can watch shows on at a decent time, you know?” Late nights were never spent on watching television or other similar activities for Cato. Especially not when he was required a certain amount of sleep each night to guarantee his body some energy for training and fighting as his trainer constantly reminds him. If he did stay up late, like tonight, it was either from drinking or just thinking. “Once this dude had to get surgery because it got really bad,” he bragged mostly to himself as a proud chuckle accompanied his words. “I don’t think fathers want to meet any boy their daughter bring home.” His kept his tone persistent with pride and humor even if the mention of fathers caused his blood to boil. He released his grip from the door with the help from the blonde, letting his arm stay around her shoulder. At first, he was ready to object that he was good on his own, but his body gave up on trying. “You can go back to watching your space show. I can find the bathroom from here.” The confident words contrasted with his ability to keep his feet in matching and balanced rhythm. “Nice pajamas by the way. Very ‘you’.”

[catowtf]

gdibristol:

Bristol was having a hard time settling down for the night. Though she’d had to work overtime at Lockheed and was tired from the early morning shift she’d had to work at Charlie’s, she still couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was the five cups of coffee she’d had that day. Pouring herself a mug of hot tea, all the blonde could think about was how comfy her pajamas were, and the new episode of Cosmos that was airing tonight. After all, Neil DeGrasse Tyson was her hero, up there with Carl Sagan, Bill Nye, and Steven Hawking. The knock at her door startled Bristol out of her thoughts, some of the hot liquid splashing out of the mug and onto her leg. “Fuck,” she mumbled as she swiped at the burn with her sleeve. 

Opening the door she was surprised to see Cato, not just alarmed by his presence, but by his appearance, beaten and bloody. His words were slurring together and she caught a whiff of alcohol off his breath. “Bathroom? That I definitely have. Food and beer are strong maybes though.” She opened the door wider, stepping to the side to allow the man into her apartment. Her eyes scanned him from head to toe, trying to assess how much damage had been done to him; what was his blood and what was not. Biology wasn’t her strong suit, but she was pretty sure that it was supposed to stay inside of people’s bodies. “What happened to you? Tell another one night stand that you weren’t interested in meeting her parents?”

“Right, of course you have one,” he mumbled, now realizing how stupid the question was when he had used her bathroom before. His eyes settled on her, looking up and down at the set of pajamas she had on and how comfortable she looked. It brought a small laugh from his lips. “And why are you still up?” he added in the question, getting distracted briefly before remembering his mission to the restroom. He stepped further into her house, grabbing onto the door to balance himself before staring down the direction to the bathroom. Her question provoked a laugh from him, one that sounded almost fake. “You’re funny, blondie,” he turned around again to face her, “but no, I had a fight today. Didn’t go how I wanted to.” His mention of his own fight quickly wiped the smile from his face and his eyes became darker as it clouded. The alcohol drowned in his blood was enough to make him not feel the pain from the injuries inflicted all over his body, unaware of how bad he even appeared. “And my one night stands know better than to ask me to meet their parents.”

[catowtf]

@gdibristol

Every lost boxing match was followed by a routine night. Avoid everyone close to him, although there wasn’t many, go to the bar, get drunk, get into some fights, and get kicked out. He would then go back home and wake up the next day, back in the ring and practicing for the next match. And tonight wasn’t any different. He indulged himself into the silence of the night, making his way back from a bar where he left a bloodied and broken nose guy at. The hits he got in didn’t hurt as much as the one he got earlier in the boxing ring, and it definitely didn’t hurt as much as his loss. That loss came with stings and throbbing pain that alcohol couldn’t rinse out. 

His small stumbles and wobbling were brought to a stop when he stared at the familiar home of a certain blonde. He contemplated going in to say hi, but it didn’t take long for his impulsive actions to provoke him to stumble up to her door and sending her four knocks. He wasn’t sure why it was her place that he ended up at, but it was too late. The door was opening up and he caught a glimpse of blonde streaks. “Hi, blondie,” he greeted with slurred words as soon as he met the other set of eyes. “Do you have food, beer, or a bathroom, maybe?” 

[islamarshcll-deactivated2016102]

isla started to shake her head, laughing for a moment. “ nah, i don’t believe that. see… the smaller one, he’s gonna block whatever punches that guy throws…the big one has already had one to many drinks in him so he’s gonna go down easier than ya’ think. “ she licked her lips, looking down at the three others. maybe it would go his way, it was a total crapshoot. but isla usually had a knack for studying others. “ oh twenty isn’t too much. in fact i don’t think it’s enough. double it. “ laughing, she turned her attention back to the other.

[catowtf]

A laugh escaped from his lips as he heard her prediction, eyeing the guys to see how much drinks they have indulged in. His years spent with defense and fighting helped him know who could get a hit in or not; that was something he was sure about. Who the girl was going to end up with was something he made up on the spot, not sure how that would go. “Forty? Alright, deal,” he agreed with a nod, turning his attention back to the scene, ready for things to either turn out his way or partly his way.

[catowtf]

@islamarshcll

“I bet you twenty dollars those two are going to get into a fight, and the bigger dude is going to get one punch in and knock out the other one,” Cato mumbled over to the female next to him after witnessing the interaction between the three figures a few seats down from them. A blonde was sitting between two men; the bigger one was less attractive than the younger one. “And the chick’s going to go home with the bigger one because it would be embarrassing to leave with someone who loses. Or is twenty too much for you?” It was easy money, free entertainment, and a conversation with the brunette. 

[fosterxnoah]

“… i SWEAR, if i have to do any more stitches today, i will p r o b a b l y hurt someone just to get something else to do.” 

[catowtf]

“That’s not assuring. Would you rather do the stitches or give a CT scan? I’ll just stitch myself up later to save myself far worse injuries you can inflict on me.” 

[bristolgdi]

@catowtf

Today really was the worst day that Bristol could remember, all because her coffee pot had decided to die the night before. If that wasn’t bad enough, the actual glass pot had shattered when the blonde had wrestled with it that morning, slicing open her hand when she’d gone to pick up the pieces, the barista had forgotten her pump of hazelnut in her coffee and now she’d gone and spilled hot liquid into her fresh stitches. “Fuck,” she swore, the leaky to go cup dropping from her bandaged hand. The scalding coffee splattered everywhere, all over the pavement and Bristol’s legs, as well as the dark haired man who was nearby. She looked up, her eyes catching sight of a coffee covered Cato. Just when she thought her day couldn’t get any worse….

[catowtf]

Having a healthy diet was one of the components of Cato’s job, and his trainer kept reminding him of it. Cato tried to limit what he was eating, and he was doing okay with it too. However, the place he had spent last night seemed to lack any food in the fridge, leaving him with an empty stomach as he left her house. Running back to his house would only make him late, so he took it as a reason to slightly alter his diet, dropping by the coffee shop to buy a quick breakfast that could give him some energy. He was sure his trainer had all eyes on him because as soon as he decided to go against his wishes, he was standing there with coffee staining across his clothes and skin, burning the top layer of it. “People usually offer coffee by handing them a cup, not by pouring it on them,” he remarked, settling his dark hues on the blonde. Not quite the exact run-in he would want with her this early in the morning. His annoyance was evident through his unamused pressed lips. “You’re off to a great morning, aren’t you?”

[bristolgdi]

cato *cackles*

“Have you ever gotten a milkshake that looks really good and you just kind of have to sit back and admire this milkshake because how on earth did someone come up with this beautiful milkshake and why has no one else stopped to appreciate this milkshake? And then you remember you’re lactose intolerant and suddenly you’re shitting everywhere and it’s an actual pain in the ass? Happened to my cousin once. Anyway, Cato is a little like this milkshake, pretty to look at but a total pain in the ass when he wants to be. I think he’s just playing people though. There’s definitely more to that milkshake than just the whipped cream and the cherry you see on the top.”

[laurenxxedwards]

“I’m fine , i’m fine really “ Lauren said as she lying on the ground covered in her blood.

[catowtf]

“Yes because you totally fine,” his tone laced with sarcasm. “Is that your blood or someone else’s?” 

[veronicabblack-blog]

“Anyone fancy a drink? Life is getting a lil stressful and I need to take the edge off a bit.”

[catowtf]

“Are you looking for permission or just a drinking partner? I won’t say no to a drink though.” 

[svenruud]

“Isn’t it … a little irresponsible letting a nine year old have Snapchat? Wouldn’t he be way too young?”

[catowtf]

“Too young for dog filters and Coachella filters? Are you afraid he’s going to start sending inappropriate pictures or something? He can already do that with his phone, with or without Snapchat.

[talulahwxng]

“I maxed out my credit card last night on powdered donuts and beef jerky.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

[catowtf]

“Because I didn’t want you whining and begging for your credit card back all night, and I couldn’t drag you away from the aisle without it looking like I was kidnapping you.”

[annabethporter-blog]

When you accidentally kiss a fan and thousands go crazy.

[catowtf]

“How do you accidently kiss a fan? Trip over something and your lips landed on theirs?”