𝜗𝜚

۫ ꣑ৎ ' 🌺 . •

[signedinmarigold]

ok so I’m working on old requests and other things I write really quickly but I want to know… what x reader do u want to see the most ???

I want to see…

gary x reader

collie x reader

peter x reader

billy x reader

richard x reader

hank x reader

art x reader

ray x reader

Voting ended onJan 27

(to clarify, the poll doesn’t mean everyone who doesn’t win don’t get anything, I’ll go in order of votes meaning winner — lowest votes/percent!!)

[signedinmarigold]

UNDER YOUR SPELL . .

in which stebbins can’t seem to keep his eyes off of you, even after you two had broken up.

꩜ ; no warnings, suggestive stuff implied but isn’t written

Stebbins has long forgotten his cup that’s sitting in his hand.

Not because he doesn’t like the drink, he wouldn’t have picked it if he didn’t. The noise also might be irritating him, but he’s at a party and he can’t complain about somewhere he chose to be.

Not really. He didn’t decide to be here. It was mostly Pete’s idea, claiming it’d be fun, and he should loosen up and do things that aren’t working out and homework. “You’ll meet someone fun!” Words from Harkness, who didn’t even go himself, rang out in his head.

He should’ve made up a shitty excuse like Harkness did.

(But what excuse did he have to make? Working out? What a load of bullshit.)

Something else that’s utter bullshit, was the other thing that was pissing him off.

You. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

It was last year when you both broke up. He claimed that the two of you wouldn’t work out, that he was simply too focused on other things to make time for you.

He lied. He lied so much that day that he was certain those hours alone got him a ticket straight to hell. He didn’t think you two wouldn’t work out, he just wanted his father to stop bothering him about it.

And he’s never felt more stupid in his life. Smart. That’s what he’s supposed to be.

He wasn’t irritated about you, to be specific, but to whoever the boy was you were talking to.

He was the type of guy to get too close for comfort, arm on shoulder, and a little too relaxed. If he may add, he’s laughing way too hard, to the point that other people began to stare right with Stebbins. That irritated him even more. Nothing is ever that fucking funny. He thinks.

But he’s not with you. He hasn’t been for a long time.

He just doesn’t understand why he’s so worked up about this. Should he just go home? He doesn’t have to say goodbye to anyone, after all. He doesn’t owe anyone.

But then it clicks, when he squints a little, or looks at you even harder, he notices something.

Uneasiness. You’re clearly uncomfortable with whoever this is, but even as the hand that was on your shoulder roams down to your hip, you keep a small smile on your face. And Stebbins has had just enough. He storms over, the cup in his hand dropping and someone shouting out a “Hey!” that he easily ignores.

And with a swift movement, he grabs the guy by the shoulder roughly, and delivers a punch to his face. Gasps and giggles erupt from all around him, and he sees you turn to him in shock right after. The boy, the stupid boy he corrects in his head, had crashed into the table and knocked a few people over with him. Stebbins could give a shit less. He grabs your arm and aims for the front door.

You knew Stebbins was.. well, violent? Sometimes? He did hockey, for fucks sake.

But in no universe, would you expect him out of all people to make a scene at a party. A place he was already probably not wanting to be at.

Currently, you both were sitting in his car, at a red light, to be specific, it was the one that always took forever. So now it’s just awkward.

“You didn’t have to bring me home.” You say quietly, your voice cracks from not using it, and you honestly feel embarrassed about it. Stebbins huffs, and you think he’s gonna blow out on you too.

“Was the least I could do.” He said, gripping the steering wheel, but he didn’t seem annoyed. Not at all, giddy, maybe. Nervous, even. “Sorry.” He says. It seems forced.

“It’s okay. I should be thanking you, actually. He was creeping me out a little. Touching me.” You blink slowly, and you assume the drinks are actually doing its work, or maybe the fear from the moment made it go away for a bit, and now it’s coming back to bite you.

“You could’ve said something sooner.”

You shrug. “To who? I was there alone.” You say quickly, but instantly regret it when you see him turn to you out of the corner of your eye.

“Alone? Why were you there alone?”

“Why were you?”

“I wasn’t.” He turns away. “I went with Pete, and Ray, and..”

You raise a brow. “And?”

“And no one is important.”

“Ah,” you say, clicking your tongue. “Right. You have time to go out to parties and punch people, find friends important, but not me, right? Never me.” You can’t stop talking, but you can definitely tell the atmosphere has changed. “Never.” You repeat to yourself.

“Can we not do this? Just let me take you to your dorm.” He says, and the light turns green.

“Why?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

You turn to him, slightly irritated. “Then what was it like, Stebbins?”

He blinks slowly, and seems to ponder something before finally spitting his words out. “Fine, you want to know? My dad made me do it. Said he’d kick me out the school if I stayed with you and didn’t focus on hockey. You think I wanted that?”

“You could’ve told me.”

“What, that I was a coward?”

“Why would I care about that of all things? Jeez, you’re a fucking asshole!” You say, and you cross your arms and look out the window instead. Silence falls over the car. You suddenly feel guilty, and close your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He says, and in a split second, your eyes are back open. This one, this apology, seems genuine. Feels genuine.

“What?” You sputter out.

“I said I’m sorry. For being like that. I know I messed up. I know I..” He trails off, not really knowing what else to say.

He just said everything he needed to, though. Without even saying it.

“It’s okay… Well, not really, but-“

“Yeah.” He cuts you off while giving you a look, then turning back to the road. “Yeah, I get it.”

He seems to think for a second, and before he can say anything, you do.

“Is Harkness there? At your dorm, I mean.”

“No?” He says, extremely confused, before he catches on. “Oh.”

“If you don’t wanna, I mean- What am I saying? I’m sorry. This is so awkwar-“

“No, I want to.” Stebbins cuts you off, he clears his throat. “Spend time with you, and..”

“Mhm. Me too, Stebbins.” You say, and you’re almost about to drift off until you feel the familiar turn of the parking lot.

“Billy.” He corrects. You nod.

“Yeah, okay. Billy.” You repeat to basically yourself.

You don’t know where this is going, honestly.

But it wouldn’t hurt to find out, right?

@signedinmarigold

[signedinmarigold]

Hi that fembins was amazing omg Please write more when you have the time

I gotchu anon.. more fembins soon indeed..

[signedinmarigold]

PLUS , ALL MY CLOTHES WOULD FIT . . .

fem stebbins x reader 👀👀👀👀

— ANON

꩜ ; mildly suggestive , the rest of it isn’t written.

You slammed your door shut as yelling came from the living room.

It had been the what, seventh time this week? You don’t know.

Anyways, your parents are fighting again. You honestly don’t care what they are fighting about and why, you just wish they would shut up, or go somewhere else with it.

You can’t even distract yourself by reading a book, or doing homework (who actually does that, though?)

(you suppose someone who would want to get away from screaming parents.)

With a sigh, you fall onto your bed face first and lay there, suffocating yourself slightly before turning onto your back and staring at your ceiling.

It’s pink. Well, used to be. The paint is chipping and some of the things you pinned to it are also beginning to come off from the edges, but you don’t feel like fixing it. Not today, and you’d be lying if you said tomorrow. So you turn to your walls instead.

Luckily, so you don’t have to live in pink barf, you kept all but one wall white. The white walls are overall nothing special. Decorations and gifts from your grandma here and there, but what’s really grabbing your attention, and itching at your skin at the pictures on the wall.

At least 20. Maybe pushing that, are of your boyfriend.

You don’t have anything against him! Not really, not much, but you also can’t help but sigh every time you look at him now.

You want to say you were in love with him at the start, but your mind is so blurred that you don’t quite remember if you ever were. You think it was just to get your parents off your back. To make sure they didn’t notice.

Like time was on your side, a faint knock on your window made you jump before sighing. Stebbins.

She has a smirk on her face, and she’s wrapping her hand around her finger. She gives you a wink as you walk over to the window and you roll your eyes.

“You're late.” You point out.

“Just five minutes.” She replies quickly, examining your room like she hasn’t seen it many times. She seems to notice your parents yelling, but doesn’t comment on it. “Missed me that badly?”

“No. But you should keep your promises.”

“And I do.” She says as the pink wall grabs her attention. She stares down at a specific picture. Your boyfriend and you are standing next to each other. His hand is on your waist, and his head is resting on your shoulder. She mumbles something under her breath before turning back to you. “When are you gonna take these down?”

You shrug. She raises a brow and you shrug again, trying to be convincing. “Whenever my parents stop suspecting me.”

“You should let em. Play into it, yeah? Break up with that boyfriend of yours and just get with me.”

You stare at her like she’s just admitted to a crime and asked you to cover for her. “No. Absolutely not. What would people at school think?”

“Fuck them, for one.” Stebbins starts, and you scoff. “And for two, nobody but us has to know.”

You fiddle with your hands nervously. “Stebbins..”

“What? Nobody has to know.”

“Yeah, but they’ll find out.”

“How?”

You don’t reply.

“How would they find out?”

You turn to the window and shut it. Enough cold air has gotten into the room. “I don’t know.”

“Exactly.” Stebbins says, and you know you’ve walked right into a trap. “You’ve got more good things about getting with me then you have staying with him.”

“Yeah?” You ask. “Like what?”

Stebbins pretends to think. “For one, you’re miserable without me.” Your head snaps to her and she puts her hands up in defense. “Five minutes.” She reminds you.

“Go on..”

“Second, it’s obvious who’s better here. Third, clothing would be the least of your problems.”

“What, you’re gonna spoil me?” You scoff at the bribery.

(you barely need any when it comes to her.)

“No. I could. I would. I will. But I mean my clothes will fit you.”

“You can’t be so sure.” You sigh, sitting down on your bed. Stebbins follows after you once you do. “You don’t even know my size.” You fail to realize how Stebbins is eyeing you as you say that.

“Yeah? Let’s check.” Stebbins reaches down and you make a sound of confusion. You figure out easily what she’s doing as she tugs your shirt off slowly, bringing it close to her face.”

“Yeah, checks out.” She says. “Same size.”

“That’s nice. But I don’t want to use your clothes. I’d never give them back. Speaking of, can I have my shirt back?”

Stebbins purposefully drops it to the floor. “Mmh.”

You stare at it, then her. Then your discarded shirt again. “What’s that supposed to mean, ‘mmh?’”

When you get no answer. You look at stebbins. She’s eyeing your neck, and it’s drifting down to your collarbone, to your-

“Hey. No.”

“We’ve never tried, actually.” Stebbins gets on her knees and places her hands on your knees. You yelp and try to keep them closed, but your legs give out.

“My parents are literally here!”

“And fighting, if I may add. They wouldn’t know, baby.”

“Stebbins.” You say. She stares up at you with fake puppy eyes. “I said no.”

She sighs, and gets up, but not without leaving a bite to your inner thigh. You hold back a shriek as she stands up and returns to the pink wall.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking down my girlfriend stealer’s photos.”

“You’re the one who’s stealing me!”

“It’s not stealing if you’re voluntarily coming to me.” She says as she rips a picture off the wall. It’s the one she was eyeing earlier. You don’t make any move to stop her. You just reach for your shirt and put it back on, and by the time you do, majority of the pictures are torn off and ripped into even small shreds before being thrown in the trash. Stebbins turns to you.

“I was enjoying what I was seeing.”

“Asshole.” You mutter. She smiles, and takes down the last picture.

“I want him gone.”

“I know.” You say, and pause for a little before saying: “I’ll do it.”

As if surprised, she turns to you. “Really?”

“Yes, really. By Friday.”

“That’s far.”

You stand up, and walk towards her. “Doesn’t mean that we can’t do anything now.” You place a kiss on her cheek, and she shakes her head, pulling you in by the arm and placing one on your lips.

“We can do it.” You say. “Lock the door, and I’m all yours.”

“Deal.” Stebbins says as she walks to the door.

You’re not sure if you regret this.

(you don’t, and you never will.)

@signedinmarigold

typos or incorrect things are def my fault. I will still not fix them. 😁

[signedinmarigold]

I THINK WE’RE ALONE NOW

anything you can give me that’s ray x reader……. i beg……. it can be modern or in tlw universe…. pls <////3

— riverroan

It was a rainy day in April at your house, and you were absolutely bored out of your mind.

You and Ray had original plans to go out today, but canceled them due to the rain, and you and Ray’s parents still hadn’t shown since earlier today. All you received was a message from your mother, simply saying ‘at our house, we’ll be back soon.’

You didn’t question how soon, and instead, you laid on Ray’s bed sprawled over it. Ray was..

Actually, you didn’t know where Ray was. Somewhere in the house, obviously, but not in the room currently.

You glance at the open window, watching some rain slip in through the broken piece at the very bottom. You're sure that’s not safe, but the bed is far from it, so you don’t complain.

Your gaze drops lower — lower to the bin below it, and your eyes hover over it for a second. You pulled your head up off the bed and slid the end of the bed to get a better look. It was a gray bin full of what seemed to be letters? You turned to the door to confirm Ray wasn’t there, and sneaked over to the box.

The first one that catches your eye is a white and red striped one with a heart as the wax sealing it. You probably shouldn’t open it, but you do anyway.

The letter starts with your name.

It’s been about 3 months since we got together. Time flies, doesn’t it? I remember being so nervous to ask you out that day. I needed encouragement from all my friends because I was so positive that you’d turn me down. Now that we’re together, I don’t know why I even suspected you would. You’re the kindest, most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on. I think I had originally planned to get you roses, but I felt those were too boring. Isn’t that what everyone buys their ladies? I wanted ours to be different. That’s why I got you those flowers. I don’t even know if you still have them. I hope you do, but it’s fine if not.

I don’t know if I’ll ever actually send this. Maybe I will. But after a month it wouldn’t make sense, would it? Because I wrote how long it’s been since we got together. Then it would look like I’m not keeping track.

I don’t know why I wrote this either. I just love you alot. And I can finally say it without having to excuse it as a sibling way either.

I don’t think I’ll send this. I don’t regret writing it, but this is totally embarrassing. And I have to fix all my mistakes.

Whatever.

Love, Garraty

You couldn’t help but let a smile creep on your face as you finished the note, and looked down in the bin to see notes instead of envelopes.

You pick a few up, looking at the top of the pages for dates.

The oldest one goes back to a year ago.

D: 5/10/24

God, this feels embarrassing to write.

I met a girl downtown today, she was beautiful, and that’s honestly the only thing you can describe her as.

I saw her walking down the street and I so badly wanted to go up to her, but that gives off creep vibes, doesn’t it? So I kept my distance.

But get this! The next day, I figured out she went to my high school. And I only knew that because one of my friends told me! I don’t recall ever having classes with her.

I feel weird writing about this. But I just had to. She’s not the type of person you forget.

D:5/20/24

I saw her again today. At the drive-in. She went alone, and when I asked why she did, she said it was because she had no one to go with. How could she have no one to go with? She was such a pretty girl.

Anyway, I told her that I would sit with her and she said yes. And when I offered to buy her a soda, she turned around the offer and got me one. And then she asked to hang out the next day. And then I got her name. God, she has a beautiful name.

Did heaven send this girl?

D:5/21/24

Rain stopped us from hanging out. Well, no it didn’t. Instead, she invited me over to her house. She has this little thing in her backyard — I don’t know what to call it, but it’s some sort of roof that hides us from the rain. We did nothing but talked, talked, and talked some more. I figured out her favorite flower and color. And I found out her taste in music, and so much more.

I wouldn’t mind doing this everyday.

D:6/2/24

I figured out she works at the cafe my momma always goes to in the mornings. She’s a waitress there. Maybe that’s where her kindness comes from. Maybe her mom talks to her every time she goes, specifically asks for her, and my moms kindness rubbed off on her.

Or maybe, both her and my mom are angels.

Anyway, I decided to go with my mom today, and she was surprised, yet happy, (I hope!) to see me. I couldn’t believe it. Happy? To see me?

D:6/5/24

These aren’t weird to write, right?

I just enjoy this girls company.

Anyways, today I finally grew a pair and invited her to my house. Not anything weird, obviously. She told me all about herself. Things that happened when she was a little baby. I, in return told her my most embarrassing moments. I don’t know why, but she laughed, like I was the funniest person in the world. At first I thought it was because she was making fun of me. But she wasn’t. Infact, she told me some details she had left out from her stories that she found embarrassing.

But she claimed she didn’t anymore because she was comfortable.

I really like this girl.

D:6/29/24

I’m thinking of talking her out to see fireworks on the 4th. Is that too intimate? No, of course not! Right? Jesus, I sound insane writing this.

She said she likes flowers, but didn’t specify which one was her favorite. I want to just get her roses, but that’s plain and seems like it’s just out of pity. I can’t decide which to get, though. Maybe she likes all flowers? After all, she didn’t say which. I’ll just decide when I go to the store.

Anyway, yesterday I saw her at the park. What she was doing there? God, I don’t know. But she was pretty. She had a dress on, it was a dark red and polka dots. Maybe she likes red? Perhaps I am on the right track with flowers then.

I was a little nervous to go up to her, but she saw me first and called me over. She called to me. She offered me food and again we talked. I swear I had nothing to talk about before I met her, but god, now I feel like there’s so many things now.

You place the piece of paper down and look at the other five. One is sealed shut like it’s holding secrets nobody should ever know in it.

So like anyone would, you grab that one and slowly pry it open. You check to make sure Ray isn’t behind you. One you do and confirm he isn’t there, you begin to read.

D:12/31/24

Me and her spent Christmas together. Her parents actually let her, they claimed that I could keep eyes on her very well. Whatever that means, if anything, she keeps eyes on me.

Anyway, I’ve figured out how I’m going to ask her out. Her favorite flowers are foxgloves. So perhaps I wasn’t on the right path with the color red. Doesn’t matter. It’d be romantic to ask her to be my girlfriend on newyears, right? Flowers, chocolate, and make myself look good. Definitely.

If you somehow find this, whether it’s in the far future or maybe tomorrow, I don’t regret writing this. And I certainly don’t regret the others. And most of all, I don’t regret loving you.

(I know you’ll find this anyway. You always do find out the things I try to hide. I don’t know why.)

You smile as you lower the letter.

“Snooping, huh?” Garraty says from behind you, and you sort of feel like a deer in headlights for a moment.

“Sorry,” you say teasingly, dragging out the ‘y’, “Your letters are so cute! I wish I would’ve found these sooner.”

Garraty mumbles something under his breath. The only thing you hear is “…someday.” as he approaches you and gets on his knees next to you.

“What’d you say?”

“Nothin’.” He says, but he smiles as he does. And it’s the cheeky one where you know he’s lying. You can’t bring yourself to care much after he places a kiss on your forehead and your cheek.

“Time for you to stop snooping. Your momma called me, she’s gonna be outside soon and needs help carrying the groceries?”

“What?” You say, and Ray just smiles as he gets up, urging you on. “How come she replies to you and not me?”

“Dunno,” Ray shrugs. “Maybe she likes me better.”

“No?!” You sputter out, even though you know he’s just teasing.

“Yes.” He insists. You stick your tongue out.

“My momma loves me.” You defend.

“Oh, no doubt. She just loves me a pinch more.”

“No, she doesn’t!”

@signedinmarigold

typos or incorrect things are def my fault. I will still not fix them. 😁

[signedinmarigold]

pssssssssttt .. guys ..

what if I were to do a tlw hunger games au and put them all in the 50th hunger games..

would we fw that ?.?!

no girl wtf ure evil like snow

yea totally put them through torture in a whole different universe

Voting ended onJan 15

[signedinmarigold]

more tlw tiktok comments/videos before I dump all my tlw x reader stuff

[signedinmarigold]

rest in peace to that one stebbins (rp) account you will be missed . . .

[signedinmarigold]

HES ALIVE

[signedinmarigold]

tlw tiktok comments but they are just ones from my favorited

[signedinmarigold]

stebbins in thorns and roses probably

[signedinmarigold]

rest in peace to that one stebbins (rp) account you will be missed . . .

[signedinmarigold]

MY FAVORITE FIC IS GONE? THEY DIDNT EVEN ORPHAN IT THEY JUST DELETED IT OH MY GOD THE WORLD IS ENDINGG???

[signedinmarigold]

someone help me find the author id love to read their other fics 🥹 the pairing was collie parker x barkovitch, and collie had died on the long walk and was reborn in a modern au and was trying to hide it from barkovitch and the others the whole time, i think it was around 10-11 chapters and the name was "the only dove i see (could you love me more)" or something 🥹🥹 someone HELPPP

[signedinmarigold]

MY FAVORITE FIC IS GONE? THEY DIDNT EVEN ORPHAN IT THEY JUST DELETED IT OH MY GOD THE WORLD IS ENDINGG???

[signedinmarigold]

ROADKILL

I’ve been dying to see winner!Stebbins coming home to his girl pleaseeeee 🥹

— ANON

You stopped watching the long walk around 11PM. Which was an hour ago.

Stebbins had gotten sick. At some point in the walk, he caught a cold. He told everyone it was just allergies and that he was fine, and for a second, you believed him too. But you should've known better because as the walk went on, he looked more and more ill. Even when camera focus wasn't on him, you could hear him coughing in the background.

The last time you saw him, he was on a bridge with two others. He looked beyond sick, and he looked beyond tired, like he could collapse at any second. You couldn't bare to watch anymore, and you switched your TV completely off.

Now you were sitting in silence in your room. The radio on your table was running gibberish about something you weren't paying attention to. And for some reason, you thought about that guy on the walk who had a radio. You can't even remember how he died. You can barley remember how anyone died. All you remember is blood and brainmatter on the TV for seconds at a time, and then the count of walkers in the corner going down, one by one.

You can't bare to think about the fact it’ll do the same if Stebbins were to die. He’d just be another body that the spectators would steal from off the road. They did it with the other 47 boys, too. You know that for sure.

You can't help but trail your mind back to before the walk started. Stebbins let you go to the drop off with him, but forced you to leave immediately after. You begged him not to go, cried and said it wasn't too late, but all he told you was that he’d win and come back to you.

You also remember when he first put his name into the lottery. You both had a big fight. He told you that if he won, if he just simply outwalked 49 other men, that you and him would be set for the rest of your lives, and on top of that he’d marry you.

You thought the whole plan was stupid and crazy. He plainly said that if he just watched 49 other men die, then you both could live with the guilt and have a happy ending.

It led to you both not talking for a few days. Atleast not until he got his name picked on live television. You bursted into tears, and as if he had sensed your reaction, he was over at your house in 20 minutes, on the couch with you, rubbing your arm trying to comfort you.

No amount of comfort would help. Not then, and definitely not now. Your boyfriend was going to die. Billy was going to die, and nobody would care—

“And that w—-aps up the A—-ual Lo —-alk for this year!” Your radio cracks to life, not becoming any clearer, but you can make out what it said pretty well. You look towards it.

“Honestly, we ALL expected him to win, right? He had a goal. He is totally fit. And he pushed through his sickness!”

Hope wells up inside of you, and you get off your bed to turn the radio up.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the winner of the Nineteenth Annual Long Walk . . .” A fake drumroll starts, and you squeeze your arm tight.

“William Stebbins!” 

You gasp, almost falling to the floor.

“It was tough at the end, wasn't it John?”

“Indeed it was! I thought those two boys would never give up, but they just.. Well.. Sat down! What a surprise! Such a wonderful wrap for this years walk. If your bet was placed on number thirty eight, call—”

You tune out the radio after that, and you dash outside your room, searching for your mother. To no surprise, she was already in the living room, looking at you as soon as you walked out of your room with teary eyes. Only then, did you realize you were also crying.

“Mom,” You mumble shakily, stumbling over to her and falling into her chest. You begin to sob. “He’s coming, he actually did it, he won—” You wrap your arms around her and she puts a hand on the back of your head, and the other one around your back. You let your head rest on her.

You don't think you’ve ever cried so much in your life.

𓂃⋆.˚

The next morning, you woke up feeling like you had gotten ran over twice, and then had arisen from the dead. Your hair was a mess, and the sun coming through your window sure didn't help the case. You groan and try to get up, finding your arms to weak to do so, and you fall back onto your bed with a defeated sigh.

Last night was a rollercoaster of emotions. First, you cried. Then you celebrated with your mom. Some relatives came to your house and came to comfort you, some just came to check on you’re wellbeing.

The whole entire night, you were waiting for Stebbins. You knew he couldn't come back immediately, certainly not. He was in a different state, after all. And they’d probably keep him back to treat him — or an interview, or —

“Hey.” Someone says awkwardly from behind you. You shriek and fall off your bed. And just your luck, you hit your head. Ow.

“Woah woah, don't die on me now. I just got back.” He— Stebbins says. He immediately gets your head off the floor and lifts you up. All you can do is stare at him wide eyed.

“Miss me?” He asked with a smile on his face. He still looked slightly sick, but you couldn't care less. You leaned up to kiss him. And as much as it looked like he didn't want you to while he was sick, he pulled you closer by the waist, and close his eyes.

When you pulled away, you immediately started to examine his face. You felt your eyes sting already. You caress his face, and you hear him murmur an ‘i love you’ under his breath. You grip his shoulders.

“I love you. But I also hate you so much. Why did you go?” You ask, like you haven't had your answer for ages. “You almost left me. I saw it.”

“No, I didn't.” He reassures you, and he places a kiss on your cheek, rubbing the spot on your head that came in contact with the floor. “I was never leavin’. I told you i’d come back, didn't I?”

A tear forces itselt out of your eye, and you sniffle. “Yeah. Yeah, you did. But you looked so sick — How are you already-”

“Better?” He finishes your sentence for you. You nod. “Well, for starters, I’m all the nation is talking about right now. And I definitely abused my wish.” Your eyebrows creased in confusion at that, and he clears his throat. He guides you over to the bed to sit as he begins to talk. “I didn't wish for a cup of tea with my dad, like I told you I would.”

“No?”

“No.” He confirms. “Instead, I wished for the quickest flight they had back to here. On the plane, they treated me and I got better quickly. Not all the way, obviously, but I don't look half dead now, do I?”

You laugh lightly, and shake your head. “No, no you don't.” He takes your hand in his and gives it a small squeeze. You glance over at the chair he was in minutes ago. “How long were you watching me sleep?”

“Couple hours.”

“How long is a couple?” You question.

“Three.” He shrugs. “Didn't want to wake you up so early, so I let you sleep.”

You scoff playfully. “Well, I think that would've been better than me taking a fall as soon as I woke up.”

“Accident.” He puts his free hand up in defense. You smile at the act. “I know.” You say, leaning in for another kiss. He lets you, but immediately talks back after.

“You're gonna catch a cold.”

“I don't care.” You mumble. “I missed you. I missed my boyfriend so much.” You say, and you begin to inch yourself onto his lap, facing him. He looks at your lips, then your eyes.

“I missed you too. Hardest five days of my life.” Stebbins says, and it almost feels like sarcasm.

You laugh. “Yeah? I was here struggling, you know!” Stebbins gives you a grin when you swat his arm, and he places a kiss on your chin, and you can basically see the bulb when he thinks of something funny to say.

“Would be funny if i coughed in your face.”

“No, It wouldn't.”

He shakes his head, immediately agreeing with you, and you ruffle his hair. “What about your father?”

“Him? Forget him. Don't need that wish.”

“Uh oh,” You say. “What’d you figure out?” 

He thinks sarcastically. “Well, he’s willing to kill 49 men and leave only one. And he knew I was his son. He just didn't care.” He shrugs, like it doesn't hurt him. You know it does.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don't be. I’ve got money, I’ve got my mom, and I’ve got you.” He says, and places a kiss on your forehead.

“You’re infecting me.”

“Am not,” He argues. “You like it anyway.”

You nod, and give him one small flick before climbing off him.

“You should get dressed.” He tells you.

“Why? Where are we going?”

He looks at you, like he’s expecting something. “Wherever you want. I’ve got money.” He smiles like he’s a mastermind.

You do have a few places in mind.

𓂃⋆.˚

Stebbins and you have been getting swarmed almost all day. You knew it would probably happen, of course, he just won the Long Walk after all.

But you wish you had some more time alone with him.

First, it was people from your old school that had barley talked to him, and called him a freak because he had no father. You stared daggers at them as they gave him puppy eyes. You almost launched onto a girl that was way too close to him, but luckily, he handled the situation on his own.

Second, it was locals from all around the place. He was easily recognizable, you knew that. But you wished he was just a little shorter at times.

Third and lastly, people began to ask you questions, too. You mostly just nodded when they speculated things, and when Stebbins pulled you away, you simply let him.

Now, you both are at a bridge, watching the sunset, and your heart feels more at peace.

Out of the blue, Stebbins speaks up. “I was serious about marrying you, if you didn't know.”

“Were you?”

“Yes.” He says. “I’m sure of it.”

You hum. “Okay. So.. You’ve got a ring?”

He looks at you, and you look back. His eyes are beautiful right now, and he has a soft smile on his face. he grabs your chin and gives you a kiss on your lips this time. “Not yet,” He whispers. “I gotta whisk you off to someplace nice first.”

“Someplace where?”

He doesn't answer. But you think you know already. And with that, he turns back to the sunset. You admire him for a second before watching the sun aswell, and for once since he put his name in the lottery, your mind is relaxed.

“I love you, Stebbins.”

“I love you more.” He replies softly.

@signedinmarigold

[signedinmarigold]

THE FRUIT BANDIT !

I would love a Ray Garraty x Reader, where during an especially tough winter in the village he lives in with his mother he finds a starving girl his age stealing fruit from their garden. And even though food theft is an execution-level offense, he takes her in instead and falls in love with her, and eventually makes her his wife?

— ANON

Ray Garraty prefers the summer.

Not because of the amount of times he gets to swim in the lake down behind the lumberjack’s, or because of the free watermelon he’s able to get from that guy who wanders around the village, and certainly not because of the fact the summer nights offer a beautiful sky.

No. Of course not.

But because of times like this in the dead of winter.

Currently, he’s staring out the window, watching the snow chaotically fall onto branches and then fall to the already snow covered ground, and the wind blowing whatever snow didn't fall off on its own.

It looks cold. And Ray hates the cold. He absolutely hates it. And he’s also procrastinating.

He’s in his room with the fireplace on, very warm but at the same time the dread in his stomach is growing, because his mother told him to go out to the shed and get more firewood.

It’s not a horrible request, it’s not. But he isn't quite sure if he’s ready to battle the cold that’s going to hit his face, and swallow him whole. And he's definitely not sure that he wants to carry logs back into the house.

But as he hears his mom call out ‘Ray, the wood!’ for the third time, he sighs in defeat and begins to slip on his boots. He hadn't even realized he had put on his winter coat a few minutes earlier with all the sulking he was doing.

He got up from his bed and opened his door, not shutting it behind him. He saw his mother in the small kitchen they had, and she was making some sort of soup that smelled beyond good.

“If I go and get the firewood,” Ray points at the pot. “Can I have some of that?”

Ginnie just smiled. “You’d have to get it even if I didn't offer you any. Of course, baby. Now hurry and go get the logs before we freeze, okay?” Ray nods, and heads to the front door. He sighs and closes his eyes for a second, before he pushes the door open and walks into the cold. He lets out a curse word, and he hears his mom yell at him.

𓂃⋆.˚

You're really cold.

It’s the dead of winter, and the sun is already set below the trees, and the snow nor wind isn't giving out, not one bit.

And on top of all that, you're starving.

Sure, you have on two layers of socks, and an old worn coat that does little to cover you with all the holes. Sure, you're in better condition than most others at the moment, but if you were warm and eating something hot, or anything for that matter, you’d be a lot happier.

You drag yourself down the snow covered road, watching as some lights turn off, and some glow brighter, you don't go towards either one of the kind. No matter where you go, you're always kicked out. Or looked at like you had killed someone minutes prior to your arrival. Yet still you keep going, looking for someone — something — anyone-

And then you spot it. Just barley through the cold biting at your face and stinging your eyes to tears, you spot something colorful under the snow.

Berries, you think. They are red, and small from where you are, and definitely in someone's backyard, but you can't be bothered to care. Food is food, and that's one of the things you need a lot right now.

You get low onto the ground, hands stinging when they come in contact with the snow, and you slowly make your way over to the berries. The house’s lights are still on, and you think you saw someone move inside, so it’s best you're really careful, even if the wind might cover you.

You miss the footprints leading to the back of the house.

You make it to the bush, and you shake it slightly to get most of the snow off, you look around one more time. At the window, at everything else, then you pick a few, shoving them into your mouth carelessly. Your hands are going to be stained red, but you can't bring yourself to care about the future. Only about the present. Only about how starved you are. With one hand, you're stuffing as many as possible into your mouth, and with the other, you're putting some into your pocket that you had checked for holes beforehand.

You’re almost done with one of the bushes before someone yells out ‘Hey!’ and you whip your head towards the source.

The guy is tall and looks about your age from where you are, and as you stare him down, he drops the logs he’s holding and makes his way over to you. You scramble to your feet and try to run — but unlucky you, you scrape your food on a branch and fall face flat into the snow. You hear footsteps crunching towards you, and you’ve definitely squished the berries you put in your pocket.

“Hey! Are you..” The boy kneels next to you, and you try to get up, hands planted up next to you, but just seconds later, you fall back onto the snow with a groan. The pain in your foot is growing fast. So much for adrenaline.

“I got you. It’s okay.” The boy says, and he turns you over, and lifts your head. He examines you and you do the same. He has blonde hair and brown eyes, and there's freckles littered all over his face. He’s definitely your age. You could tell from far away, and you can confirm it now.

The eye contact is broken by you. You wince in pain again and look down at your foot. He follows your gaze, and he makes a hissing sound. He gets you back on your foot, though when he realizes you’ll just limp the whole way, resorts to carrying you on his back.

“Who..” You mumble out. He doesn't seem to catch it, because he doesn't respond.

Before you know it, you're in the house you were trying to avoid catching attention from. Your eyes glance over at a middle aged woman, and she gasps when she sees you.

A small banter goes on between the boy and woman, but she soon turns her attention to you, and he takes a step backward and awkwardly looks at you and her both.

“Sweetie, can you hear me?” The woman asks, placing a hand on your cheek. “You're so cold. Ray, be a dear and go run her a bath.” She says.

Ray.

He nods, looking at you with concern before he disappears farther into the house. You follow him with your eyes before you sigh in exhaustion. 

“What’s your name, hun?” She asks, and she looks down at your foot. She doesn't look surprised, she looked at it when you first walked in, and she’s already moved away to get a first aid kit.

You mumble out your name and she repeats it. “Why were you out so late in a snowstorm? And please don't lie to me!” She says, and you hiss when you feel something hit your foot. It must be some sort of disinfectant fluid, or maybe just pure alcohol, Whatever it is, it stings.

“Nowhere to go.” You say weakly. “Sorry. Sorry, for..” You trail off. She’s wrapping your foot in a bandage now, and she looks up at you. “Stealing.”

She hushes you. “No, none of that. It’s okay. If my boy hadn't found you.. You would've..” She can't seem to finish her sentence. The boy, Ray, comes out of the bathroom and calls out to his mom. She looks at you and smiles. “Come now, let's get you washed up, okay? Will you need help?” She asks as she helps you to your feet. With the bandage, it feels much better, and you can also walk better, and your hands aren't shaking. You politely decline and accidentally nearly slip into the bathroom.

“Ray, the wood.” She says and he rolls his eyes, making his way back to the door, but not without giving you another glance.

“Call me if you need me, alright dear? I’m Ginnie.”

You squint. “Jenny?” You mumble.

She smiles, and nods her head. “Ginnie. There’s a G at the start. Go, go wash up. I’ll get you some clothes.” She pats your back and closes the door after you.

Without thinking, you don't waste the opportunity, and you start to undress.

𓂃⋆.˚

It’s about an hour later when you get to eat real food. It’s warm soup, and it’s gone in about a minute. Ginnie smiles at you, and Ray gives a look that you can't quite place a finger on. It looks bland, neutral, like he’s trying to figure you out. Then, for the first time since he picked you up, he talks to you.

“You shouldn't steal out in the open like that.” He says, picking up his bowl and taking it to the sink. “The Major will have you executed for that.”

“Ray.” His mom warns. Her smile faltered for a second.

“It’s true, momma. We’ve—” He cuts himself off. “Anyway. Be more careful next time, please? I mean, look at your foot.”

You look down at it, and move it around, making sure you can still feel it.

“I’m sorry for stealing.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Ginnie reaches for your hand, and rubs it with her thumb. “We won't tell. It’s just berries, after all.

You smile at her. “Thank you.”

“Ray, how about you let her take your bed for the night?” She asks, Ray looks ready to decline, but a look from his mom makes him forget the whole idea of denying it. “Okay.” He says plainly, returning to the table and giving you a ‘come on’  look. You glance at your bowl and Ginnie waves you on.

“It’s okay, I've got it. Get some rest.”

You look at her reluctantly, but Ray is waiting for you.

So you instead get up, push your chair in, and follow Ray to his room.

He pushes the door open and it looks like a pretty normal room, despite the amount of mess, he shoves a pile of books to the side, and gestures to his bed.

“Where, uh, will you sleep?” You question, he sighs and looks toward the door.

“The couch, I guess. My mom makes breakfast in the morning. You like pancakes?” You nod.

“Alright. Good. You turn the light off by turning it, not clicking,” He shows you by turning it off, then on. You watch carefully.

“I’ll go now so you can get some rest. Goodnight.” He says, you say it quietly back, but as he’s about to close the door behind him, he pauses.

“What were you doing out there?”

You shrug. “No place to go.” You say, playing with the sleeve of your borrowed shirt. “I’m sorry for stealing your fruit. I know I said it earlier, but—”

He cuts you off with a ‘ah-ah!’, and you go silent, looking at him.

“We weren't going to eat them anyways. They’ll grow back.” He tells you. “I’ll be going now, goodnight again, fruit bandit.”

You pause at the nickname, then get comfortable under the blanket.

You leave the light on.

𓂃⋆.˚

Ray Garraty prefers the winter over any other season.

Even in the coldest of nights, in the harshest storms, he cherishes winter to its fullest.

No, not because the snow is deep and goes up to his knees, or because the frost bites at his face and he feels like he’s freezing in time, and definitely not because his favorite lake freezes over.

But because when the snow is deep, he has an excuse to carry you, and when the wind is blowing, he can lean down and kiss you as an excuse to ‘warm’ his face up, and when the lake freezes over, he can take you down and teach you to fish.

But then his mind travels to spring, and fall, and then he cannot decide anymore.

In spring, you go out with him to try to find fresh flowers to decorate your shared home with, and he also gets irritated with the amount of pollen around. But it’s okay, because he’s around you.

In the fall, you both go out to buy pumpkins and horribly carve them. But he doesn't care, because he’s doing it with you.

And maybe he likes summer, too. For other reasons he doesn't want to tell you. But it’s the season he proposed to you.

The ring certainly wasn't the biggest, but you weren't the flashiest of people anyway. He did it by the lake, he had saved up enough to get nicer clothes just for the occasion, and told you to wear your favorite sundress. It wasn't perfect, not at all, but it was good enough for the both of you.

Currently, he’s helping you build a snowman on a calmer day of winter, and this time you have a better coat, a hat given to you by him, and a smile on your face.

“It’s nose is crooked, isn't it?” you burst out into a laugh, and he admires you. “Yeah. But who cares? It’s still a snowman.” 

You examine the rest of the snowman and stand back, looking at your creation. Ray joins you, looking it up and down. Silence falls over you before he chuckles quietly.

“The whole thing is slanted.” He’s audibly holding back a laugh, and you see it almost immediately after he finished his sentence.

“It is.” You laugh.

And that’s the sound Ray has wanted to hear his whole life. 

@signedinmarigold

[signedinmarigold]

have you gotten many TLW requests? I saw your post asking for some but didn’t want to send one if you’ve already been overwhelmed with them!

hii! ive gotten a few, but i've completed more than half ^.^ i havent set up my profile all the way yet (i think i will tonight?) but requests are almost always open so dont be shyyy send some requests pretty pleaseeee

[lavenderbeforesunset]

Thorns and Roses Chapter Fifteen: Last Days in the Capitol

Rating: Mature Pairings: Reader x Stebbins Chapter Word Count: 4338 Summary:

After you both miraculously win, you and Stebbins take part in the wrap-up of the 74th Games. In which Reader and Stebbins are tributes in The Hunger Games.

Fic Masterlist (contains all posted chapters)

Read on AO3

You both immediately spit out the berries.

You wiped your hands over your tongue, trying to get rid of every last trace of the berries, while Stebbins leaned over the side of the Cornucopia and made himself throw up for good measure. Once he was done and wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand, he grabbed your face and gave you a frantic look, “Did you swallow them—”

You quickly shook your head, “No— Did you??”

He let out a breathless laugh and shook his head, a relieved smile on his face, “No, I didn’t.”

Relief washed over you and you let out your own laugh, blinking away your quickly forming tears. You both won. You were both alive.

The hovercraft came faster than you expected it to, like it had been lying in wait. Two ladders drop for you, but they might as well have only dropped one. Stebbins stood up, scooping you up in his arms and securing you to one of the ladders, before climbing onto it himself, keeping a grip on you as the ladder rises up to the hovercraft.

As soon as the ladder pulls you into the hovercraft you both spill to the floor, and you let out a cry as your ankle hits the ground, your vision going spotty with pain. Two pairs of hands grab you and hoist you up and onto a gurney, and you see you’re being handled by doctors in masks and gloves, who start wheeling you away.

You sit up, seeing Stebbins just getting to his feet and being pulled away by some other doctors, and you cry out, “Billy!” He sees you and tries to push past the doctors, but they hold him back and push him towards a door opposite to the one you’re being wheeled to.

You try to get off the gurney, injured ankle be damned, but the doctors at your side grab you and force you back down. You’re just about to yell for Stebbins again, when a doctor stabs a needle into your arm, and suddenly you start feeling light-headed and woozy.

Stebbins yells something, but you can’t make out what he says as your vision darkens.

—

The room you’re in is unnervingly bright when you wake up.

You blink your eyes open and squint at the florescent bulbs above you. You’re lying in a bed, somewhere. There’s a needle in your hand, connected to a tube going to a bag of what looks to be water next to your bed. It takes you a moment to realize you must be in a hospital, or something similar— You’d never been in a hospital before, but it only made sense.

You stretch your limbs a little, and everything aches, especially your left ankle. Still feeling groggy and not having the coordination to try sitting up just yet, you opt to count your appendages instead of trying to see your surroundings.

One head, obviously. Two arms. Two legs. Ten fingers. Five toes.

Wait.

That can’t be right.

One head. Two arms. Two legs. Ten fingers. Five toes.

You wiggle your toes and try counting them again. One, two, three, four, five.

…

One, two, three, four, five—

You pull your arms up and push yourself into a sitting position, unsteady as you look down to your feet. You can see the shape of your right foot underneath the blanket, but the space where your left foot should be is suspiciously flat. Clumsily, you grab the blanket, folding it up to your knees, and you discover why you can’t feel the toes on your left foot.

You no longer have a left foot.

You stared at the stump that used to be your ankle. Or was it still your ankle? Is it an ankle if it doesn’t connect to a foot? You tensed your calf, as if to flex your foot, but of course nothing happened, there being no foot to flex.

The sound a door sliding open made its way to your ears, and you looked over to see Bachman had just entered the room— The white, sterile room. “How’re you feelin’?” Your mentor asked.

A million thoughts and questions passed through your head, but the first one that came out of your mouth was, “Where’s Stebbins?”

“Stebbins is fine. We’re a little more worried about you, right now,” Bachman explained.

“Can I see him?”

Bachman frowned and shook his head, “They want to wait until the ceremony for you to see him. Get the reunion on camera.”

A flicker of anger lit in your chest. Of course they’d do that, anything for a better show. Wasn’t what you went through already enough, did they have to dig the knife a little deeper? “I want to see him.”

“I know you do. How’s the foot?”

You gave him a look and motioned to your stump, “Gone.”

“They’ll get you a prosthetic, don’t worry,” Bachman walked closer to your bedside, “You’ve already been in here for a few days. The ceremony will be tomorrow, and then the interview the next day. Sit tight, and you’ll see Stebbins again before you know it.”

You swallow dryly, “And you’re sure he’s fine?”

“Positive. Won’t stop asking about you, though,” He shook his head, though you saw the hint of a smile on his face. “You two did good. I’m proud of you.”

You nodded a little, looking back at your feet- er, foot.

“I’ll leave you to rest some more. You’ve got a long few days ahead of you.”

—

Walking on your new prosthetic was… Strange. The best way you could think to describe it, was that it was like walking while one of your feet was completely asleep. You struggled to not limp, but it didn’t quite work.

You were so focused on trying to walk normally, it almost distracted you from the approaching ceremony.

Anton, with the help of the prep team, was getting you ready. He had dressed you in a simple suit with black lace detailing that resembled leaves and a blazer that flared out into a faux-skirt (“Androgyny is very in right now.”) The prep team cooed over how well the outfit accentuated you and hid any “imperfections” the Games had left. You were pretty sure they were mainly referring to your missing foot— You had noticed that all scars you should’ve had from the Games and even the ones you had from before were wiped clean from your skin. Too bad they couldn’t recover your foot as easily. 

To be honest, you didn’t care about what you were wearing, until Anton pulled out a familiar necklace and pendant.

“It’s like your signature,” He said, putting your mother’s necklace around your neck, “Thorne’s Mockingjay.”

You smiled slightly, putting a hand over the Mockingjay pendant and glancing down at it.

“You almost ready?” Anton asked.

You looked back up and nodded at him, “I think so.”

He escorted you backstage and explained how the ceremony was going to start— First the stylists were going to go on stage, then the escort and mentor, and then you and Stebbins. All would enter in on risers that reminded you of the elevator that transported you into the arena. You tried not to think too hard on that comparison.

Once you find yourself backstage, next to the riser that will bring you onstage, you notice a makeshift wall a few feet away. You know instantly that Stebbins must be on the other side. So close, yet so far.

“Well don’t you look lovely,” A familiar voice says, and you turn to see Jan, wearing a forest green shift dress and smiling at you.

“Jan…!” You say, a smile crossing your face. You’d somehow almost forgotten about your escort, among all the last-minute preparation.

She smiles more, though there’s a tightness to it that momentarily worries you. Instead of saying anything, she holds out her arms for you, offering a hug. You hesitate, before stepping over and hugging her.

She pulls you in tightly, and whispers in your ear, “The Capitol’s mad— Really mad. They think you were trying to show them up with the berries act. They’re a laughingstock right now and they’re blaming you.”

The sudden information sends you off-kilter, and all you can muster is a meek, “What?”

Jan whispers, “You need to act as in love as possible. Like the idea only occurred to you because you love Stebbins that much. Maybe act a little air-headed too, just to be safe.” She pulls away from you and smiles again, and now you understand why her smile seems forced. “Okay?”

You blink at her, and try hard not to look dumbfounded or horrified. “Yeah, okay… Does Stebbins know?”

“Bachman’s caught him up,” Jan pats your shoulder, “Try to enjoy yourself. You’ve earned this.”

You nod, and Jan turns and heads to the riser to wait her turn.

Swallowing dryly, Jan’s words spin in your head. The Capitol’s angry with you? How were you going to fix that? Convince them you were just that in love? But that was an act, something to land you sponsors. You remembered how desperate you were in that moment, when you suggested you eat the berries, but that wasn’t because you were in love, that was because you were desperate not to lose another person. How were you going to convince the Capitol you truly meant no harm?

… Did you mean no harm?

You knew both of you dying and leaving the Games with no Victor would’ve stuck it to the Gamemakers, to the Capitol, but you weren’t trying to start anything with it. But if you didn’t do it out of love, what did you do it out of?

Was your family going to pay for this? Stebbins’ Mom? Did your one desperate act put all you know and love in danger?

Once you put it in that perspective, you knew what you had to do. You had to convince everyone you were so deeply, wildly in love with Stebbins, that you would rather die than be without him.

You’d made it this far, how hard could it be to keep the act up?

You hear the crowd roaring from the audience above as the anthem plays and Caesar Flickerman starts the show. In just a few moments, you’d be on stage, for all the nation to see. And you’d finally get to see Stebbins again. You close your eyes and imagine him; tall, blonde, blue-eyed, that signature smirk of his on his face. It warms your chest, easing your anxiety just a tad. God, you can’t wait to see him.

You’re ushered onto the riser and it lifts you up. Up and up, until the stage lights blind you and the roar of the audience becomes thunderous. You blink rapidly to adjust your vision, and once the lights are no longer blinding you, you see Stebbins just a few yards away, handsome as ever, looking at you with the slightest smile.

Somehow, despite your fake foot, you find it in you to run to him, nearly tackling him into a hug. He easily catches you in his arms, lifting you up off your feet and capturing your lips in his own. The crowd goes wild as you wrap your arms around his neck, but you can barely focus on the kiss between your thoughts. Is this real enough?

Flickerman says something that goes ignored by both of you. It isn’t until Bachman comes and pulls you two apart that you finally break from the kiss, feeling pink in the cheeks. “Alright, that’s enough— Go sit, you lovebirds,” Bachman says, motioning to the plush red velvet love seat on the stage, reserved for you and Stebbins. You walk over, and Stebbins grabs your hand on the way, holding onto it even when you take your seats next to each other.

He lightly squeezes your hand, and you can’t help but take it as a small reassurance, that it’ll be okay despite the position you’re both in. You squeeze back harder.

The two of you sit down next to each other, as impossibly close as you can without fully being in each other’s laps. You lean your head on his shoulder and he leans his own head against yours. Your heart flutters, and the crowd lets out an “Awwww!”

Flickerman cracks a few jokes, before it’s time for the show. A three-hour long movie replaying the events of your games, for all of the nation of Panem to watch (and watch they will, it’s required viewing). Your stomach sinks as the lights dim, the anthem plays, and the Panem sigil is projected onto the screen. You weren’t sure how you were going to sit through three hours of watching your fellow tributes die, of rewatching the horrors you’d already lived through. But there was nothing you could do to escape this.

You squeezed Stebbins’ hand again. He squeezed back.

The movie started with all the pre-game events. The parade, the interviews, the training scores, with special focus on you and Stebbins. With how you two were the only survivors, you feel like you’re watching ghosts on screen.

It cuts to the bloodbath— You narrowly escaping with your life, and Stebbins keeping to the sidelines until it was over, when he then approached the Careers and joined them.

“We made the alliance during training,” Stebbins explained, whispering in your ear, probably sensing your confusion.

After that, it focused on Stebbins with the Careers, occasionally cutting to you surviving in the woods by yourself. A lot of focus was put on the moment where Stebbins noticed you in the trees, but didn’t give you away to the Careers. Then, there was the moment you formed your alliance with Curley.

Tears pricked at your eyes when Curley came on-screen. You weren’t ready to see him again. You weren’t ready for what was going to happen.

The movie cuts to the next night when you had gone and stolen from the Careers’ camp. They of course put focus on when you encountered Stebbins, and him silently helping you get your knives. What they also put focus on was the next morning, when the thievery was discovered and the District 4 Girl put a knife to Stebbins’ throat. Despite the blade grazing against his skin, Stebbins looked completely calm, almost bored, and he talked his way out of getting his throat slit.

Then, of course, the fight that led to Stebbins joining your alliance. The short time the three of you spent together. Special attention was given to the few times you kissed, which made your face red with embarrassment. Then there was your plan to destroy the Career’s supplies.

When Curley’s death plays, you can’t bear to watch— You hide your face in Stebbins’ shoulder, trying hard not to listen to it playing back. He squeezes your hand again.

Surprisingly, they left in when you left Stebbins, though they made it seem like you were gone for far shorter than you actually were. It made Stebbins’ sudden illness seem implausible, but you suppose the Capitol didn’t care about that. You didn’t expect to be shown Stebbins’ reaction to you leaving— Him waking up to you gone, calling out to you with the whistling and your name, how distraught he looked when you didn’t whistle back, when you were nowhere to be found.

“I’m sorry…” You whisper against Stebbins’ shoulder. He simply turns and kisses the top of your head in response.

The crowd cheers at your on-screen reunion. The days you spent in the cave are condescended, though you notice they kept in every time Stebbins took his shirt off. Then there’s the feast announcement, your argument, and you drugging him with the sleep syrup and returning with his medicine. Those last few days of him recovering are also condensed, though they made sure to keep in your make-out session (you decided you wanted to strangle whoever edited this movie).

Finally, it comes to the finale, with the mutts that tore your foot off and mauled Claudia to death. They cut Claudia’s death short, which you were thankful for— Her screams haunt you enough as-is. But then the rule change is announced, and you suddenly feel sick as you watch your berry plan play out. Did it look like two people so desperately in love they couldn’t be without each other? How hard would you have to convince The Capitol?

The crowd cheers when the winners are announced and you spit out the berries.

You glance at Stebbins, and his face is a perfectly blank mask. You squeeze his hand. His blue eyes glance at you, and he squeezes back.

The anthem plays once again as the movie closes out. Flickerman motions for you two to rise to your feet and you do, yourself favoring your real foot.

President Snow himself walks onto the stage, followed by a little girl holding a pillow, where atop rests a crown. Snow takes the crown and twists it, where it separates into two crowns, like a little magic trick.

You hold your breath as he approaches you and Stebbins. The most powerful man in the nation, standing right in front of you. Stebbins must be more nervous than you— his grip on your hand has tightened and doesn’t seem like it’ll loosen soon.

Snow places the first crown on Stebbins’ head, a smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Congratulations, son.”

You’ve known many older men who refer to younger men as ‘son’, so the term doesn’t phase you. Stebbins, on the other hand, momentarily looks as though he’s been slapped, before his face becomes a mask again. His grip on your hand becomes impossibly tighter.

Snow stepped over to you, placing the second crown on your head. You look at his face, and as you look at him, you can’t help but feel as though there is something oddly familiar about him. You’d seen him before, on TV and on posters, but seeing him in person was different. You couldn’t quite place why you got this uncanny feeling from him. He gives you that empty smile, “And congratulations to you, as well.”

The look in his blue eyes is cold, unforgiving. He has not forgiven you for the berries.

—

Later that night, you have a banquet at the President’s Mansion. It’s a blur of Capitol sponsors and food and occasional glimpses of President Snow, and not once does Stebbins leave your side. Eventually, you are taken back to the Tribute center to rest.

Jan and Bachman begin to usher the two of you to your respective rooms, but you resist, grabbing Stebbins’ arm. “I need to talk to him— In private.”

“We’ve already caught you two up on the situation,” Jan said, giving you a pointed look.

“No— We need to talk. Make sure we’re on the same page,” You glance between her and Bachman, before sparing a glance at Stebbins, who is giving the two the faintest hint of a pleading look.

Bachman and Jan exchange a glance, before Bachman says, “You two should have access to the rooftop gardens now. The wind makes it awful noisy up there.” You get his meaning right away— no cameras or hidden mics would be able to overhear you two.

You let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you,” before tugging Stebbins along with you to the elevators.

The ride up is quiet, almost awkwardly so. You and Stebbins stand across the elevator from each other, simply looking at each other. Finally, the doors open, and you quickly walk out, knowing Stebbins is closely following.

There are a few lights illuminating the flowers and plants of the rooftop garden. Just as Bachman said, it’s windy, and you feel assured that your conversation won’t be overhead. Still, you wait until the two of you are a good distance from the elevator doors, before you turn to look at Stebbins and ask, “What did Bachman tell you?”

Stebbins levels his gaze on you before answering, “The Capitol— Specifically President Snow— Aren’t happy about the berries stunt, and we need to keep acting like we’re in love.”

You nodded. Alright, so you were on the same page… Acting.

Acting like you’re in love.

“Was it an act?” You asked, barely above a breath, “Was it real?”

“Was what real?” He asked back, equally as quiet.

“The crush, the feelings, the whole thing. Was it real?”

He looked at you for a long moment, face a blank mask again, before saying, “What do you think?”

Your heart pounded in your ears, “I think you’re really good at playing this game.”

You saw his jaw flex a little. “I have to be. It’s how we survive.”

“So… That’s it, then?” You asked, trying to keep your voice even, “We just keep pretending?”

“I’ll pretend as long as you do. However long that turns out to be.”

“Well we have to,” You pointed out, “So there’s that.”

“There is that,” He agreed.

“Look, I uhm… I don’t expect you to keep this up when we get home,” You started, finding it harder to find the words and speak them aloud, “We can just go back to how it was when we get to District 7.”

Stebbins tilted his head to the side slightly, like he was silently scrutinizing you, “Is that what you want?”

“I think it’ll be easier on both of us to not have to keep up the act once we’re home,” You explained. “Or at least, once the cameras are off us.”

“… If you say so.”

—

The next morning, you’re dressed in something romantic, and are led to a private room to be interviewed. It’s gaudily decorated with pink and red roses and a shockingly pink love seat, but at the very least there’s no live audience, just Flickerman and a few cameras.

You’re barely in the room for a minute before the door opens and in steps Stebbins, dressed just as romantically as you. Without thinking you quickly hug him, and he embraces you back, whispering, “You okay?”

No, we’re going to die, our families are going to be executed, and it’s all my fault, you thought. “Just nervous,” You said. He kisses the side of your head in response.

“Now, are you two lovebirds ready?” Flickerman asks, seemingly unbothered (maybe even endeared) by your affections to each other. You quickly nod and pull away from Stebbins, blushing as you both take your spots on the love seat.

There’s a countdown, and just like that you’re being broadcast to the entire nation again. Flickerman does his intro before diving into the interview. You talk as little as possible, letting Flickerman and Stebbins take the lead. Stebbins seems utterly calm, in stark contrast to the overwhelming fear clouding your brain. Praying that no one can tell how scared you are, you just keep smiling and nodding along.

“So, Thorne, how’s your new foot treating you?” Flickerman looks to you, his signature toothy grin plastered to his face.

“New foot?” Stebbins’ brow furrows, and he glances at you for your answer, or some kind of explanation. Does he not know?

Instead of explaining to him, and without thinking, you lean down and unhook your prosthetic, pulling it off your leg and plopping it into Stebbins’ lap. He looks at the foot with horror, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Oh, I’m sorry— I didn’t realize you weren’t informed!” Flickerman says, making an ‘oops’ face at one of the cameras.

“No, I just— I suppose I assumed with how advanced the Capitol is, that they would’ve somehow saved their foot,” Stebbins opens his eyes again and gives Flickerman a stiff smile. “I should’ve realized the damage was too severe to save it.”

You slipped your hand into his and squeezed, “You better not blame yourself. You did the best you could— I would’ve died if you hadn’t been there.” Stebbins looked at you and squeezed your hand back. You only let go of his hand so you could take the foot back and pull it back.

“Now, Stebbins, you said you’d fallen in love with Thorne since about age five, correct?”

“That’s correct, Caesar.”

“Now Thorne, when did you realize you were in love with him?”

Fuck. Why’d he have to ask that question? You didn’t have a good answer for that. Think, Thorne, think. What would be a believable lie for that? “Oh, that’s tough… I’m honestly not sure there was a singular moment. I just kept noticing him, I’m not even sure I realized when it happened. It just… Snuck up on me.”

“But surely there was a moment where you realized?”

FUCK. “Uh, well…” You were floundering. You were floundering and everyone was going to see right through you and realize you aren’t in love with Stebbins and he isn’t in love with you and you were all going to die—

“You know what I think? I think it was the moment the rule change was announced, when you called out to him!” Flickerman said.

“Oh, yes!” You quickly agreed, forcing a smile on your face, “I just— I guess I realized that we actually had a chance together…” You looked at Stebbins, who was smiling softly at you. If he saw how close of a call that was, he wasn’t showing it.

The rest of the interview goes off without a hitch, and the two of you even share a kiss for the cameras (you can hardly enjoy it, unfortunately, so focused on the cameras watching you). Once the interview wraps up and you bid the audience goodbye, you and Stebbins are escorted out of the room. As soon as you exit, you’re greeted by Jan.

“Almost time to go home!” Jan cheers, grinning at the two of you. “You just need to make sure you left nothing in your rooms and then we’re going on the train!”

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