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applcrumbl · 19 days
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oh my dear god
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Harry in Randolph's vlog: Playing FORFEIT Golf vs W2S & Callux
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applcrumbl · 23 days
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been playing a lot of stardew lately, here is me as a farmer <3
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applcrumbl · 23 days
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i want to fuck him i want to make him miserable i want to take him out of his misery i want to make him the happiest man alive i want to make him breakfast i want to watch him choke i want to see blood coming out of his mouth and dripping down his chest until the horrible beautiful thing inside of it stops beating i want him to need him like god i want him to be my god i want to worship him like a teenage girl worships her bully i want him to loathe me i want him to die for me i want him to stop time for me i want him to turn back time for me i want to strangle him with my bare hands and i want him to kiss my palms gently i want to protect him from himself i want him to live for me i want to make him kneel and pray for love hopelessly at my feet i want to reach inside him and twist and pull him apart until he's nothing but pieces i want to collect him i want to eat him i want him inside me i want to carry his children i want to carry his last name i want to hold him as he dies i want to be the last thing he sees i want to make him disappear i want to invent him i want to set him on fire i want to destroy him i want to invent him again and destroy him i want to make him mine i want to watch him fuck other women i want to hate him i want him to fear me like a fawn fears the forest without its mother i want him to love me like it's a sin and he wants to make the heavens angry i want to ruin him i want to paint my walls with his blood i want him to kiss my scars and tell me i'm pretty i want to watch him sleep i want him to hurt me i want him to burn when he thinks of being with anybody who isn't me i want him tenderly i want to make him proud i want my love to be his salvation i want him like an animal i want to scratch him i want to bite him i want to kiss his eyes i want to touch his wounds i want to reopen them and pour acid inside him i want to heal him i want to love him i want him to want me i want him to want me i want him to want me i want him to need me i want to make him immortal i want him to fix me i want him to make me suffer i want him to leave like my father i want him to hold me while i cry i want to push him away i want to scream at his face i want to open him and hide inside him i want him to save me i want to be his wife i want to be his worst enemy i want him to wake up to me i want him to dread seeing my face i want to disappear inside him i want him to create me i want i want i want i want i want i want
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applcrumbl · 2 months
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can a girl not be a drug addict in peace anymore
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applcrumbl · 2 months
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Does she stay with jj I really hope she does
truthfully - I don't even know yet.
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applcrumbl · 3 months
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applcrumbl · 3 months
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SEVEN STAGES
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Ex! Reader, JJ Maybank X Reader Warnings: Strong Language, Alcohol and Drug Use, Physical violence, Accidental domestic abuse, driving under the influence, i think that's it? Author’s Note: I promise i wont take 6 months to post again lol
Summary: When your boyfriend Rafe leaves you for another woman, You find solace in JJ Maybank.
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ii. denial and anger.
Rafe stumbled backwards, his calves knocking Sarah’s bedframe as he sat down, her phone still in hand. She shoots him a disapproving look before trying to snatch the technology back.
“Give me my phone, Rafe” She spits.
He tosses the device behind him uncaringly, there is a thud as it bounces from the mattress to the floor. Rafe makes no other effort to move.
“Get out of my room.” Sarah follows, picking up the phone and scanning it for any cracks.
“Shut up.” Rafe spits back, still unmoving.
“I mean it. Get out!”
But Rafe wasn’t listening. His mind swirled with emotion as his eyes were drawn to the framed picture on his sister’s bedside table. It was a few years old and taken on a cheap disposable camera, you could barely make out the kids playing in the sand. His hands shook as he picked the glass frame up.
“Rafe, put that down.” Sarah continues, her annoyance growing “Get out of my room!”
His fingers swipe along the frame’s rim, collecting the thin layer of dust that had gathered. He admired your swimsuit and the way the sun brightened your squinted eyes. His heart hurt at the thought of you ever looking that happy with another man. He rises from his spot on the bed and throws the frame to his feet. It shatters across the floor and Rafe leaves the room.
The next few days panned out exactly as like a poster for self-destructive behaviour. Rafe drowned his sorrows in the bottom of a whiskey glass. Reckless partying and more cocaine than he’d ever bought at one time. His comedown was muffled by a hair of the dog, and repeated for weeks afterwards. 
One particular party saw half of Figure 8 at Tannyhill, dancing, drinking, drugs and debauchery in every corner of the plantation house. Rafe sat with Topper and Kelce on the balcony, a healthy amount of cocaine cut on the table before them. Topper had tapped out hours ago and Kelce was preoccupied by the touron girl on his lap. There was nothing for Rafe to do but sniff, drink, and scroll through his instagram.
He swore to all that he was over you. After all, it was his fault you’d broken up. This was what he wanted, he wanted to stay out as late as he pleased and see any girl that would have him. He wasn’t a monogamy man, and he didn’t like that he’d changed for you. But 5 minutes on his newsfeed had him questioning every choice he’d made.
Rafe didn’t follow pogues. He barely even followed his kook friends. But, he couldn’t help but click on the tagged accounts when a picture of you popped up on his sister’s Instagram. He couldn’t help but scroll through your page, and see what you’d been doing. He couldn’t help but stop to stare at the picture of you and JJ, cosied up together by a bonfire, your head on his shoulder and his arm around yours. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. He couldn’t help but get up and make his way to his bike. He couldn’t help but drive to your house.
He probably could’ve helped himself when he hesitated to knock, the drink and drugs slowly exiting his system. Realisation setting in.
“Rafe?” You gaped, standing behind him as his hands lifted to knock.
He turned quickly, shocked to hear your voice. He’d come to see you, but it still surprised him.
“Baby.” he almost whispered.
“Why are you here?” you ask, grocery bags in hand. You hear JJ shut the car door in the distance. 
“I’m here to see you.”
You stutter, unsure how to respond. “You don’t get to see me anymore.”
JJ is behind you now, eyes surveying the situation before him. He stays quiet, for once, and you are thankful for that.
“I just want to talk, Y/N” Rafe tries.
“Get off my porch.”
“Y/N.”
“Now.” You snap. Fueled by the tire from your long day, but also the headache you feel looming in your temples.
JJ speaks up, “I think it’s time for you to leave, shitbrain.”
“Don’t talk to me, Pogue.” Rafe slurs, walking slowly down the porch stairs. A threatening look in his eye that’s trained on JJ. You put your hand out to stop him as he steps 
“Rafe, just go.” You plead.
“I just want to talk to you.”
"We have nothing left to say, Rafe.” You shake your head, frustration building,  “It's over. You made your choice, and I've moved on."
Rafe, seemingly unaffected by your words, takes a step closer, his eyes still locked onto JJ. 
"You think you can just waltz back into her life whenever you please?" JJ retorts, his tone firm. "She doesn't need you causing more trouble."
“And you think that? Why?”
“Because I’m her boyfriend.”
“For now.” Rafe laughs, “A rebound.”
"Rafe, enough!" you warn, stepping between the two. Perhaps not your bravest idea, but avoiding a fight was the only thing on your mind. Rafe's jaw clenches, and an angry glint flashes in his eyes. Ignoring your pleas, he takes another step towards JJ, his hands curling into fists.
JJ simply laughs. It’s dry and humourless. “Funny.” he starts, finally putting down the small brown grocery bag. “That’s not what she was saying to me last night. In my bed”
“JayJ” you warn again, turning to face the blond directly. “Go inside, please.”
Where JJ Maybank may have your best interest at heart, most of the time, he can't help but revel when that coincides with rubbing a Kook’s nose in it. He leans down to kiss you before he goes. Passionate and slow. Rafe sees red.
Driven by a mixture of anger and intoxication, the older boy loses control. He disregards your presence and launches himself at JJ, throwing a punch that connects square to JJ's jaw. The impact sends JJ stumbling backwards, his grip on you faltering to none. 
The dim glow of the porch light cast flickered shadows on their strained faces, the crashing of ocean waves playing as underscore to the fight that took place on your front grass. JJ, quick on his feet, dodged another of Rafe’s blows and retaliated with a powerful counterpunch to the Rafe’s middle.
You rushed forward, arms outstretched, desperate to separate the two combatants. Your heart beat louder than your yells. Pleaded words falling on deaf ears. 
"Stop it, both of you!" you begged, voice drowned by the sounds of grunts and punches.
“She’s just using you as a rebound.” Rafe quips, voice strained under the pressure of JJ’s hands around his throat.
“And you’re just in denial” JJ jabs, fighting his corner as Rafe wrestles from his grip.
“Please, stop!” You beg from the sidelines, Nosy neighbours now watching from windows, or with trash bags in hand. “Boys, I mean it!”
Ignoring your attempts to intervene, Rafe and JJ continued their assertion of male dominance. Now fighting for their own lives instead of your honour. It was bloody, and you could’ve sworn you heard a bone break. You step forward, all of your might directed into pulling the pair from one another. Perhaps if you weren’t so focused on stopping the fight, you’d have avoided getting hurt. You found herself inadvertently in the trajectory of JJ's next swing. 
Your eyes widened with shock, as the punch, originally intended for Rafe, connected with the side of your face. The impact sent you stumbling backwards, a sharp pain blossoming across your cheek.
"Y/N!" JJ exclaimed, horror crossing his features as he realised what had happened. Breaking apart from Rafe, he rushed to your side, shock palpable,  "Y/N, I—I didn't mean to..."
Your cheek stung like it had been pricked by a 50-foot rose. Growing more scarlet by the second, you slap away JJ’s badgering hand. "Not now, JJ. "
“What the fuck have you done, Maybank” Rafe spits at the boy, almost intending to start another fight.
“Fuck off Rafe” JJ bites back.
“Go inside” You state, blunt, eyes focused on your boyfriend. “Let me fix this.”
Normally, JJ would fight you on this. Make his case on why he should stay, and why he should handle it. But today, given all that had transpired in the last 5 minutes, he thought it best to follow your wishes. 
“Yeah, that’s right, bitch boy” Rafe whistles. A final retort.
JJ continues his journey, but not without a reply of his own. “Yeah, but she’s still my girlfriend at the end of the day”
Rafe's eyes follow JJ inside. He was hesitant to look at you, knowing exactly how you’d be looking back.
“Why did you come.” you spit, tender cheek pulsating. You wipe a small trickle of blood from a cut on your face. Rafe wants to reach out and wipe it for you, but refrains. “Is this what you wanted?”
He can’t reply.
“Go home, Rafe.” you whisper, picking up the last of your groceries from beside the porch stairs. “Don’t come back here.”
"I still love you, Y/N."
Your eyes narrow at him, "You need help."
“I need you.”
“You need a therapist. Rehab. You need to go home, and get out of my life.”
He takes a step back, his adrenaline wearing off. He notices the bystanders watching from their windows. He feels the bitter cold of the night on his skin. The drink and drugs long gone from his system, he finally feels sober for the first time. 
"I didn't mean for it to go this far," he mutters, remorse thick in his voice.
“Intentions don't excuse the consequences," you reply sternly, opening your front door ro reveal the box of Rafe’s belongings, "Here..."
He watches as you deposit the box on the porch, replacing it with your fresh groceries. 
“Don’t come back”
With that, you turn away from him, shutting and locking the door behind you. Rafe stands there for a moment, tasting the salt from the sea in the air. He looks at the box on the porch and debates taking it. On one hand, it’s the right thing to do, plus he needs the cufflinks in it, and his favourite polo shirt. On the other, he has his bike, and no way of getting it home safely. Deep down, he also wants to prolong the end. He knows he can win you back, and he knows that you’ve just told him exactly how to do it.
The distant sound of approaching police sirens prompts him to make a hasty retreat into the night, kicking his bike into gear and speeding off. The box left unattended on the porch, and JJ pressing frozen peas into your burning cheek.
Rafe doesn’t sleep, he packs his bags and deletes Barry’s number.
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applcrumbl · 3 months
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SEVEN STAGES MASTERLIST
Rafe Cameron X Reader | JJ Maybank X Reader
i. SHOCK ii. DENIAL & ANGER iii. BARGAINING & DEPRESSION (coming soon)
i promise it wont be like 6 months for another update, I'm sorry!!!
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applcrumbl · 3 months
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also Oxenfree 2 is so so good, I played it over Christmas and I’m telling you I would DIE for Rex
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applcrumbl · 3 months
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I’ll get some writing posted soon I promise!! I left my laptop at home lol
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applcrumbl · 5 months
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girlies I'm in the mood to write so feel free to sent me your requests <333
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applcrumbl · 5 months
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applcrumbl · 5 months
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Coriolanus Snow Masterlist
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ONESHOTS
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Requests are: Open! 💌
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applcrumbl · 5 months
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Finnick Odair Masterlist
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applcrumbl · 5 months
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got bored, changed my theme
07.12.23 - present
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applcrumbl · 5 months
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I see the way you look at her.
Pairings: Peeta Mellark X Reader Warnings: Y/N uses she/her pronouns, talk of cheating, talk of murder and death.  Author’s Note: Y/N is kind of a dick in this but that’s so slay purr for her
Summary: Peeta returns to District 12 after the 74th Annual Hunger Games to a girlfriend who wants nothing to do with him. 
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The air in District 12 was thick with tension as the Reaping day unfolded, casting a shadow over the usually quiet town. The nervous energy in the square was palpable, each child from from age 12 to 18 lined up as though they were being put to death by firing squad. In a strange way, they were. Dressed in their finest garments, the kind that they would be proud to have on television, yet praying that their names were never called.
Y/N’s name was in the bowl 20 times this year. 15 as tesserae, for the grain and oil her family so dearly needed to survive, and the rest for the age she’d turned earlier that year. There were boys with twice as many in the other bowl. Her neighbour, Gale, at 18 years old, had his name in 42.
Yet, with only 5 slips of paper, Peeta Mellark was called. His eyes bore into hers as tears threatened to fall. She watched him hug Effie Trinket, clad in her Capitol Extravagance. Katniss Everdeen, the girl she’d played with since youth, stood with him.
Truthfully, she’d moved on from the shock that her lover was going to die quite quickly. He certainly was more likeable than the rest of the tributes, But there was not enough money in the entirety of District 12 to provide the sponsorships he would need to stay alive. Peeta was strong in build, but would never be able to hurt someone, let alone to the point of murder.
She sat with a group of girls in the square, watching Caesar Flickerman on the large screen.
"Well, there is this one girl. I’ve had a crush on her ever since I can remember.” Peeta says, “But I’m pretty sure she didn’t know I was alive until the reaping." 
Furrowed brow, she listened intently to his words. Who else would he be talking about, if not his own girlfriend? If not herself.
“She have another fellow?" asks Caesar.
“I don’t know, but a lot of boys like her," says Peeta.
Alice Walker, one of the girls who sat with Y/N, turns to look. “Thought you an’ him were going steady?”
“We are.” She replies—confusion as to why he was talking about her as though she were someone else.
She turns back to face the screen. Eyes trained on Peeta, looking the same as ever - only cleaner and in nicer clothes. He still wore the silver ring she’d bargained for at the market. His 15th birthday gift - She had put her name in the reaping another time to afford it.
“So, here’s what you do. You win, you go home. She can’t turn you down then, eh?"
“I don’t think it’s going to work out. Winning...won’t help in my case," says Peeta.
“Why ever not?" says Caesar, mystified.
"Because...because...she came here with me.”
From the moment of Peeta’s admission, she secretly hoped that he’d die in the games. As much as she wanted him to come back alive so that she could kill him herself, she also wanted nothing more than to see him suffer.
Everything she’d done for him. Everything she’d been put through for him. All for him to be in love with Katniss Everdeen. She stopped watching the games after that.
That didn’t mean she didn’t hear all about District 12’s star-crossed lovers and how they won the Hunger Games by means of their love. She stayed far away from the train station, and its once-dull platform, now adorned with makeshift decorations crafted from whatever materials the citizens could salvage. She stayed far away from his family’s bakery, and his shiny new home in Victor’s Village. She stayed far away from any place where the boy could find her. But, that did not mean that he did not try.
Katniss once spoke to her in the woods, explaining that it was all a rouse for the Capitol. Y/N only believed it because Gale had told her the same thing before. Katniss pleaded with her to speak to Peeta and allow him to explain. If not for her own sake, then for his. “I can’t even look at him Y/N. But he shouldn’t be alone right now”
She wondered how a victor of The Hunger Games could be so desperate for company. 
It took a lot of her pride to walk to Victor’s Village that night. The air was crisp, and the stars overhead seemed to bear witness to the storm of emotions raging within her. Unable to quell the turmoil in her heart, she found herself standing outside Peeta’s home.
It was the first time that she’d seen him. A glimpse through the front window into the warmly lit kitchen. He was baking again, decorating a cake, much like he would have been before the games. Except now, he was thinner, his eyes more sunken, hands shaking as they pressed fruit into icing. 
Taking a deep breath, she approached the door. Knocking gently, the sound echoed through the quiet night.
"Y/N," Peeta said, his voice soft with a hint of regret. "I didn't expect you."
She met his gaze, searching for answers. "We should talk."
He nodded, stepping aside to let her in. The air inside was thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, a familiar comfort that felt oddly out of place given the current circumstances.
They settled in the living room. The fire roared, illuminating the large room in an orange glow. The walls of the ground floor were taller than the height of her entire house. And one of the multiple sofa suites was bigger than the bed her brother slept on. There was more luxury in a singular room than in any 5 buildings in the seam. 
She sat, conscious of the room she was taking up. It felt like she would be whipped for even being near. Peeta sat more comfortably, the silence stretching between them like a fragile thread. The girl took a deep breath, ”How are you?”
“Where have you been?” Peeta interrupts, “I’ve been looking for you since I returned.”
“Can you blame me?”
Peeta hesitates a moment. “No.” He admits, hands wringing together, “It was for show, Y/N. For the cameras and the Capitol.”
A curt nod. Her expression remained stoic as she processed Peeta's words. The room felt heavy with unspoken tension, the crackling fire doing little to dispel the cold atmosphere that had settled between them.
"For show," she repeated, her voice flat. "So, all of it—the love, the sacrifice, the pain—it was all just a performance?"
Peeta looked pained, his eyes desperately searching for understanding in hers. "Yes, entirely. Katniss and I, we played along to survive. It was the only way."
“It was not the only way.”
“I never wanted it to be like this.”
“You could’ve fought. You could have-”
“I couldn’t kill her. And I couldn’t watch her die.” Peeta interrupts.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “But you could lead the careers right to her.” She deadpans, “And you did do that, by the way”
His shoulders slumped, guilt written across his face. "I never wanted it to be like this. I wanted us both to make it out alive. But they wanted a love story, and we had to give it to them."
“You don't get it, Peeta. You don't get what it's like to watch the person you love be in love with someone else, pretend or not.” Y/N shook her head, her anger simmering beneath the surface. "It was so embarrassing to hear about your 'epic love story' broadcast to the entire nation. Have people question me every single day about what happened between us.”
Peeta scoffs, standing up from his seat and pacing to the far corner of the living room. His hand rubbing his face, he forces out a laugh at her words.
“You had some uncomfortable questions forced your way, Y/N” He starts, “I was reaped for The Hunger Games. They are not the same.”
The room falls silent, save for the roar of the fire and the gentle hum of the lights.
“I did what I did, not to stay alive.”Peeta admits, “I couldn’t care less if I died in there, My family wouldn’t either-”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. But that’s not my point.” He breathes, “I needed to stay alive so that I could come back to you.”
Y/N remained seated, her eyes fixed on Peeta as he spoke. He turned to face her, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I needed to survive, not for the Capitol, not for the cameras, but for us. I wanted to come back to District 12, to you.”
She couldn't deny the sincerity in his voice, but the wounds ran deep. Having spent the latter half of the last 5 months hating his guts, she couldn’t forgive him easily. Hearing that he’d done it for her only made her feelings more scrambled.
 "Love is more than a performance, Peeta. It's more than a show for the Capitol.”
He took a step closer, his expression filled with regret. "I thought we had a better chance of making it out together than I ever would have alone.”
“But now you’re in it for life. After your victory tour, do you seriously just expect that you’ll be able to just ‘break up’? People who have suffered together like the pair of you have, don’t just call it quits.”
“We’ll figure it out, I just need time.”
Y/N leans back in her chair, eyes still trained on the broken boy before her. She tears them away to try and stop the tears that threaten to fall. “I saw the way you looked at her.” She admits. “I understand that you went through a lot together, but- But, you never looked at me like that.”
Peeta's eyes, full of remorse, met hers. He reached out, as if to touch her hand, but hesitated, fingers hovering in the air.
"I never meant to hurt you," he whispered, his voice filled with regret. "But in that arena, survival seemed like the only option. It was never about choosing her over you."
He lowered his hand. "I know I messed up. I can't change the past, but I want to make things right, Y/N. I want a chance to prove that I can be the person you need."
She shook her head, a mixture of frustration and sadness in her eyes. “I think you need time to figure it out by yourself, Peeta”
"Give me time," he pleaded. "But give me time to figure it out with you.”
The room hung heavy with silence, the fire that danced in the hearth was slowly dying. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, as Y/N distanced herself from him, each footstep on the plush carpet seemed to amplify the quiet. 
“I should go,” she says.
“Please don’t.” He begs. 
Y/N hesitated, her hand resting on the doorknob. She wanted to turn around, to look into Peeta's eyes and find a glimmer of the person she had once loved. Yet, the fear of more disappointment held her back.
"I need time, Peeta," she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, “We both need time. Alone.”
Peeta remained silent, watching her silhouette against the doorway, his expression a portrait of heartache. He wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap, but he didn’t.
“If you love someone, let them go.” He whispers, allowing her to open the door and walk down the snow-covered stairs. The hinges closed with a soft thud, and Peeta was left alone.
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applcrumbl · 5 months
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Peeta Mellark Masterlist
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ONESHOTS
I See The Way You Look At Her. Peeta returns to District 12 after the 74th Annual Hunger Games to a girlfriend who wants nothing to do with him.
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