#(aka prim's blonde)

[charlunday]

I would like to issue this as a formal apology for my last drawing.

[fyreflys]

What's your headcanon for Katniss and Peeta's children?

How old was Katniss when give birth to their daughter?

How many years apart between them in age?

Your headcanon for their name?

Who gets the singing and art skill from their parent?

Bonus question : please give recs of your fav everlark post-Mockingjay fanfic.

Thank you :)

@curiousthg

OH BOI BABAY. This has been sitting in my inbox for a while & I’m finally getting to it.

I have a LOT to say about the toast babies. Katniss and Peeta have them when they are 24 or 26 (not 25- don’t ask me why, I don’t know). Their names are Willow and Rowan (or Rye, which I Think Suzanne said somewhere that was the official name for their son. I like both).

Willow is born first. Willow as in a willow tree, (Also from the story of the Willow that Katniss’s dad tells her-unless I’m totally just making that up) which often are seen as a symbol of new life, regrowth, overcoming hardships, and sometimes for peace. I think all of these qualities exhibit important aspects of Katniss and Peeta’s story.

She has long blond curls, her father’s freckles, her mother’s eyes and smile, and she constantly reminds Katniss of Prim. She’ll make facial expressions, or say or do things that remind Katniss so much of Prim, and it will make her miss her sister, but also make her happy that her sister is clearly living on through her daughter. She inherits Peeta’s drawing/artistic abilities, but she’s also really good at gardening and knowing plants/herbs and stuff (she’s definitely a future doctor). She’s just as stubborn and hard headed as her parents, and when she puts her mind to something she GETS THAT SHIT DONE! She’s also a massive sweetheart and VERY charming, just like her daddy. She’s also a decent singer, but she doesn’t like to do it often.

Rowan is born 1.5-2.5 years after Willow. I like this name for a LOT of reasons, and that’s why I chose it as their first son’s name in my Everlark fic. Rowan trees are in the Rosaceae family (aka, the ROSE family- kind of a tribute to Prim), and are in a lot of Celtic/norse/British isles religions. It often stands for protection (usually against supernatural forces in many religions), and were often planted around burial sites to protect the dead. They are also very hardy trees that can grow just about anywhere. Also, Rowan trees have berries…(thinking of their first games, & the berries…) listen I could go ON and ON and ON about the many mythological stories connected to Rowan trees but I will leave it at that. (There’s even some thoughts about them predicting the amount of snow there will be in the winter, or how bountiful the rye harvests will be)

Rowan has dark hair and olive skin like his mother, and his father’s blue eyes and smile and freckles. He loves to bake with his father, but he also has his mother’s ability with the bow and he’s good at hunting. He has a very witty/sarcastic sense of humor (he spends a lot of time with Haymitch), but a very kind heart. He can sing just as good as his mother, and he reminds Katniss a lot of her father. He also reminds Peeta of his brothers, in the way he smiles and his competitive nature.

POST MOCKINGJAY FIC RECS:

Swan Upon Leda [my fic on AO3, 74k words & ongoing, explicit] — the fic where Everlark aren’t together yet, Katniss is pregnant during the Quarter Quell, Peeta isn’t supposed to know but then figures it out, Peeta never gets taken by the Capital and hijacked, and they try to live their “happily ever after”

The Unrecorded Hours [by hollycomb on fanfic.net, 24k words, explicit] — Peeta is certain Katniss doesn't actually want him. And she’s enraged by the fact that she does. They’re both horny as hell but too stubborn and dealing with too much trauma to figure it out properly. Until they finally do. (Seriously such a good fic I literally almost cried at the ending it’s fucking perfect & so well done)

Sun is Gonna Shine [by monroeslittle on fanfic.net, 12k words, explicit] — Despite Katniss’s reluctance, they have a baby. (And it’s gorgeous & Haymitch made me sob)

[marciabrady]

as i was thinking about both fiona and odette one day, i realized how many similarities they shared! fiona transforms into an ogre at night, while odette transforms into a swan by day- literally recalling fiona's curse: "by night one way, by day another."

in their respective films, they're both seen healing parties that been injured with arrows back to health:

someone must've had to teach them how to heal said arrow wounds...with fiona, specifically, i feel like she's a product of the early 2000s. in certain moments, they make her this traditional princess for us to laugh at, and in other moments she's like this badass fighter, but they don't explain where those things came from...like who taught her how to fight? then my mind started opening up to the possibility that odette and fiona were somehow related/their stories intertwined

upon further thinking upon this theory, i thought about odette's formative years as portrayed in the opening number of her film. she's seen as being a prim princess with proper manners, but also someone that's combative and isn't afraid of a physical confrontation

ok so remember this. BUT ALSO there's a frog called jean bob in swan princess, who claims that he's actually a prince and that, if odette should kiss him, he'll regain his human form

you know who the voice of jean bob is? JOHN CLEESE AKA FIONA'S FATHER, KING HAROLD, THE FROG KING

this convinced me that fiona's ogreism is a recessive gene from king harold since she, too, turns into a green swamp-dwelling creature, similarly to a frog, just like her father.

BUT if it's recessive, that means it would've had to have been inherited from both sides...which would only be plausible if her mother had a similar transformation spell she was under- say, a SWAN TRANSFORMATION SPELL

also, in shrek 2, fiona's mother says the following about how she met fiona's father:

"don't you remember when we were young? we used to walk by the lily pond and (they were in bloom) our first kiss."

um, our first KISS

also, both odette and lillian (fiona's canonical mother) have feathered blonde hair. another connection- in the third film, fiona's mother is seen head-butting through a brickwall and freeing the princesses from a prison. when fiona is shocked, her mother replies:

"well, you didn't actually think you got your fighting skills from your father, did you?"

UM

odette is a fighter and, going along with my earlier point, the one that i think taught fiona how to safely remove arrows! so odette HAS to either be fiona's mother or cousin and lillian is her aunt or mom...it all connects

also, not for nothing, but odette is the only princess to have an onscreen awkward phase (which relates to fiona feeling ugly) and odette is literally a ginger with braids at that time, which is fiona's signature look

furthermore, in the beginning of the swan princess, the parents arrange a marriage between derek and odette. in the hopes that the prince and princess will fall in love, the parents make them spend every summer together from the age of 6 to 16, praying they'll develop a romance. odette secretly likes derek the entire time, but derek hates her. it isn't until their final meeting, when she's grown up and conventionally attractive, that he takes to her and quickly announces to, "arrange the marriage!" odette interjects, "wait!" he replies, "what? you're all i ever wanted...you're beautiful." and she LITERALLY says, "thank you...but what else?" he blankly stares at her and says, "...what else?" to which she replies (source):

i can see this being a generation curse where fiona, too, needs to learn this lesson and i think, since odette already knows there's more than beauty, it causes...tension between she and fiona. fiona being like, "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE LIKE THIS."

but also, the frog king, the swan princess, the ogre princess- this is def a family line COME ON

also since odette knows it isn't what it seems (which the prince has to master in the swan princess, as per odette's father)/there's more than just beauty, that's why i think she (lillian) wasn't shocked when fiona came back in shrek 2 as an ogre, whereas harold was visibly more upset. also, idk if you all know but there's a deleted scene with a character called dama fortuna that asks fiona to choose between 'beauty' and her 'happily ever after.' fiona chooses beauty like...again, the generational curse!

this would prop fiona up to be a perfect mix between her parents. like odette, she sees past appearances and knows there's more than beauty which explains why fiona doesn't judge shrek that much. she's initially disappointed he's an ogre purely because of her curse but otherwise, she doesn't care. meanwhile she can't accept herself because she takes half after her father, harold, who is so unaccepting of himself but also those around him (ogre shrek and fiona). like it makes SO much sense that fiona would be a combination of these two (source)

harold's need for "beauty", ie people who are societally acceptable in his eyes, leads to him literally imprisoning his daughter to a tower so no one sees her as an ogre. meanwhile, with lillian, she's way more accepting which is why i never understood how she would also send fiona off, especially since she willingly married harold the frog king.

BUT if you subscribe to my theory that she's odette

it would absolutely make sense she's cosign on sending fiona off because of the line above ("you're all i ever wanted; you're beautiful"). when fiona's growing up, odette/lillian notices fiona parroting a lot of her father harold's harmful rhetoric. where harold sends fiona off to hide her, i think odette/lillian sends her off so fiona learns the same lesson harold/frog king had to learn (it isn't as it seems/there's more to life than beauty or being accepted by society) and allowing her daughter to mentally develop in her formative years without the negative influence of her father or the unrealistic beauty standards/wrong priorities that far far away sends forth as an allegory of the entertainment and beauty industry (fairy godmother).

BUT i think with time, odette/lillian starts to feel bad and urges harold to bring fiona back, which brings us to the fourth movie with that scene where she convinces harold to make a deal with rumpelstilskin to bring fiona back

i have so much more to say on this but i'm wrapping this up for now and am qualifying this as the thesis of my theory

[shadowqueen402]

Prim And Proper Origins: Part 4

Prologue is here:

Part 1 is here:

Part 2 is here:

Part 3 is here:

Later that day, Primrose had been waiting to punish Esme for talking with her Roy. It wasn't until after recess that she found the perfect way to do so.

Cockroaches AKA a girl's worst fear. Primrose had found them crawling outside near a bush. Normally, she would have just squashed them without a second thought. But after witnessing what she saw in the cafeteria, she decided to put these feared creatures to good use.

Hiding the cockroaches was slightly tricky, but Primrose managed to evade any suspicion from the teachers and the principal. Now the real trick was finding Esme's locker.

She searched each of the lockers carefully, until she found one with a personalized lock that had Esme's name on it. With a smirk, Esme took her key and unlocked it, opening up the locker.

Then, she took out the cockroaches and placed them all into Esme's locker before closing it back out and locking it. She took out a marker and wrote a bunch of not-so-nice words on it. Primrose stifled an evil giggle as she walked away to join her classmates. I can't wait to see the look on Esme's face when she sees this! Primrose thought. This will teach her to stay away from Roy!

Later on, the students went back to class. This time, Primrose was in Biology. It would appear that a project was happening. "For this assignment, you all will work with a partner," The teacher said. "You both will be given a certain species to study on. You must have all of what's written on the board."

She then showed the class what was written: domain, kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species. "This project is due next Friday." The teacher said. "It will even cost one quarter of your grade. I will decide who you will partner up with."

There were a few groans heard from the classroom. The teacher pulled out two slips of paper, each with a student's name on it. "The partners will be… Roy and Primrose!" She announced.

A lot of students flashed pity glances at Roy. None of them were too particularly fond of Primrose. The platinum-blonde teen, on the other hand, felt like she was in heaven. Now, she could get to know Roy as well as hopefully convince him to go on a date.

With a smile, Primrose got up and made her way to where Roy sat. Roy frowned at her, but didn't say anything other than "Hello."

"Hello," Primrose replied in a too-sweet tone. "Roy, is it? I'm Primrose Gaillot! Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too, I guess," Roy replied, shrugging. "So…can we get started on the project?"

"Oh, of course!" Primrose said, smiling. I can't believe it! She thought to herself. He's talking to me! We're so going to get married!

Primrose unfortunately wasn't allowed to ask Roy questions that weren't related to the project. So she would have to find another way to get to know more about Roy.

The sound of screams were heard in the hallways, grabbing everyone's attention. Esme backed away as a bunch of cockroaches emerged from the inside of her locker and crawled out onto the floor. Primrose stood in the back, smirking. Serves you right, you imperfect boudin! She thought, internally laughing at the scene.

"Esme! Are you okay?" Roy called out, racing towards her. "I heard you screaming… And then I saw cockroaches crawling about…"

"Someone put cockroaches in Esme's locker," A male teenager said to Roy. "They even wrote some insulting names on it too."

"What?" Roy asked, stunned and angered. Esme closed her down and saw the multiple derogatory words as well as a threat written on the door:

Ugly

Stupid

Imperfect

Man Stealer

Try-Hard

Fat Cow

Stay Away From My Roy or else!

"Who would do something like this?" The teenaged girl from lunch asked, looking at the words with shock and disgust. "Esme didn't do anything wrong. She's never provoked anyone…"

"I don't know, but I wish to walk Esme home," Roy said. "Someone wants to hurt her just because she's close with me and I don't want something to happen to her."

Esme smiled. "Thank you, Roy," She said, grabbing her stuff and taking his hand.

"We'll figure this out together, okay?" Roy assured Esme. "Well, let's go home." The two of them, as well as all of the students, left the building for the day. Unaware of the fact that Primrose was seething in rage after seeing Roy walk Esme home.

"He should be with me…" She said to herself. "Not that freakshow… Guess it's time to take her punishment up a notch…"

I don't own Madame Prim.

Roy and Esme belong to me!

[i-rickrolled-my-ankle-help]

Hunger Games: Prims Version

This is a wip I’m almost certainly not going to finish but if tumblr people like it I might write up to the reaping and the reunion (aka I’m holding it hostage until someone tells me they want to see it)

When I wake up Katniss is already long gone, judging by the sun she and Gale are over the fence and deep into the woods by now. I hope she remembered to take the list of plants I need with her. I've been planning tonight’s dinner for almost a week now. It’s hard to put together a nice meal here but I managed to find some jam and sourdough bread. Reaping day isn’t exactly a thing to be celebrated but not having your name pulled from the dome certainly is. It's really the only time outside our birthdays where we can justify splurging a little and I want a thick slice of bread heavy with goat cheese filled with herbs. It’s been a long time since we’ve had more than salt and one or two hearty things I’ve managed to coax into growing in the backyard. Carefully, so as not to wake my mother or Buttercup I bend over and see him still as asleep now as he was when my eyes opened ten minutes ago.

I hate waking up Buttercup. He's a growing boy and he needs as much rest as he can get, but I have things to do before the reaping and there are plenty of other places for him to nap. Or so I tell myself as I gently flex my legs until he finally gets the hint and moves along. I give his head a little scratch and kiss my mother on the forehead before finally getting out of bed. 8 is a late start for us, usually I wake with Katniss and we talk while she gets ready to hunt. I suppose she let me sleep in as I let our mother sleep in.

I feel a little bad about sneaking into our mothers bed the night before one of our names might be pulled from the dome of doom, as some of the older children at school call it. Theoretically I should want to be as close to my sister as possible in case we’re separated but after the third nightmare my need to sleep won. I quickly put on some raggedy but clean old dress and carefully brush out my hair. It looks more gray than blonde with all the coal dust that coats it and I’m glad I’ll be having a bath before the reaping.

I finish the outfit off with a pink ribbon Katniss got me for my birthday last year. It has a grayish hue after living in the cloud of coal that is the seam it’s entire existence but so do the rest of us. I use it to tie my hair up and put it in a bow and begin to sing to myself as I go to milk Lady. Quietly at first but louder the further I get from our bedroom.

“Some people say a man is made out-a mud

12 mans made out of muscle and blood

Muscle and blood and skin and bones

A mind that’s weak and a back that’s strong”

This is one of the few songs I can actually remember dad teaching me. I was maybe 4 but I can still remember his voice if I strain, but especially when I sing this song. For some reason I can only picture it in his voice.

“You move 16 tons, and what do you get?

Another day older and a bit less full

Brother don’t you call me cause I can’t go

I lost my soul digging deeper for coal.”

Gale likes this song. So does Katniss. Apparently it was written before Panem, but the lyrics have changed so much over time that no one knows what they were originally.

“I was born one morning when the sun didn’t shine

They gave me a pick and I walked to in mine

Gave him 16 tons of number 9 coal

All the boss man told me was “go back for more””

It doesn’t fit my voice well. My voice is high and light like the mockingjays while the song is low and heavy like Gales or my fathers. I like it though, I don’t know why. Maybe I like it just because Katniss does, the same way she likes the song Clementine because I do.

“You move 16 tons, and what do you get?

Another day older and a bit less full

Brother don’t you call me cause I can’t go

I lost my soul digging deeper for coal.”

Lady always appreciates a nice song in the morning. I think it makes her milk easier but Katniss says it’s a silly superstition. She chews happily on the grass as I sing to her. Sometimes I wish I was a goat like her or a cat like Buttercup. Not an unwanted stray, I like living under a roof just fine thank you very much, but maybe a spot similar to the one Buttercup holds in my heart. I scratch lady’s chin, maybe if this good behavior keeps up I’ll be able to braid her beard again. That always gets a laugh out of Katniss.

[vyther16]

wip wednesday!

this is dedicated to @myhamartiaishubris who has been a wonderful sounding board for this au

This snippet is from my potc Kiss of Death Au, aka Elizabeth Swann is Death. 

snippet under the cut! Enjoy

Will has always known that there was something different about Elizabeth. When he was younger, he'd attributed it to his infatuation with her, but now?

Now Will is the undead captain of the Flying Dutchman. He can tell how close to death a person is, how human they are.

Jack has a long, near-unending life ahead of him. Will finds it hard to see the end of his lifeline, but he can tell there is an end somewhere in the far-distant future. 

Gibbs has a good thirty-some years left, a little less than Pintel and Ragetti, who both have around forty-five. Barbossa has maybe fifty—a terrifyingly long lifespan, but then, he has been playing with magic. Necromancy leaves its mark on a life. Will can't get a good reading on Annamaria, and it’s impossible to tell anything about Tia Dalma, goddess as she is.

Elizabeth, though.

Elizabeth reeks of death. 

Her lifeline is infinite, not in the near-impossible length of Jack’s nor the incomprehensible fuzz that is Calypso’s. It is stark and clear and it extends beyond anything Will can see. 

He doesn’t understand all of his new powers. Calypso has not deigned to tell him everything. Davey Jones can’t explain anything. The original crew of the Flying Dutchman doesn’t actually know all that much. There’s no way for him to tell if the lifeline he sees extending from Elizabeth is accurate, really. 

He sets his musings aside, smiling at his wife. She grins, blonde hair escaping its braid to halo her face.

Before he can ask about Jack or Barbossa, Elizabeth sets a finger to his mouth. “Both of the Pearls illustrious captains are otherwise indisposed and could not come visit you.”

Annamaria, sauntering up to them, laughs. “Her royal majesty here kicked ‘em both overboard and sailed off to find you.”

“Why?” Will replies, canting his head towards Elizabeth.

“The Empress was decidedly too slow for the news I am here to give,” she replies, prim and proper as she ever was around her father.

Annamaria hands Will a bottle of rum. “You’ll want this, my good ferryman,” she says, and disappears to swindle his crew out of their weapons.

Will stares at the bottle for a moment, then looks back to Elizabeth, whose eyes are sparkling.

“What sort of news might Annamaria—” he places particular emphasis on Annamaria’s name; she is not one for any sort of comfort— “think I would need rum for?”

Elizabeth giggles. “The news that you’ll be a father,” she says, and wraps her arm around Will’s shoulders when he staggers, the words sinking in.

The bottle of rum nearly slips from his fingers, but he manages to resecure his grip. “You’re pregnant?”

“With your child,” Elizabeth confirms. “Though I probably ought to be getting along before Annamaria gambles away all your crews’ weapons.”

Will sighs. “I suppose you must be. It wouldn’t do for the crew of the Flying Dutchman to be weaponless,” he agrees. He knows that Annamaria’s gambling is not the real reason they must part. 

Calypso turns a blind eye to brief meetings between the two of them, but it goes against the nature of the curse for the two of them to meet during his ten years at sea. It’s not a rule, necessarily, but if they do it too often, or stay together too long, then, well. Will’s ears used to be a lot less fishlike. 

[softlikethesunset12]

Primrose Everdeen Aesthetic 🌸

Modern AU/college AU Primrose aka Prim aka little duck. This how Prim looks like in my head. She’s happy, she’s confident, she’s sweet, she can be a real badass and a real matchmaker.  Prim loves to dress up, do her hair in all sorts of styles and do her nails. Wearing rings is her thing and they match her outfits. She has a good sense of style although if Katniss saw the short dresses or cropped tops she wears, Katniss would probably have a heart attack. But that doesn’t phase Prim, she’s a grown woman and she ain’t listening to her sis about clothes. Just like Madge and Delly she has blonde hair and blue eyes! 

Let me know what you think! :)

Now that I did all the blondes, I’m not going to do Glimmer and cashmere, unless someone really wants to see them, it’s time for the brunettes! :)

[everlarkficexchange]

Shots Make Me Sing

I finished one! But only because I cheated. I had an angsty version of this all planned out but I just couldn’t write it so I made it sweet instead. Don’t be surprised if the other version pops up sometime.

written by @sunsetsrmydreams 

Beta’d by @justajjfan.  All mistakes are mine.

Prompt 81: Katniss finds her soulmate at her bachelorette party (aka Peeta)(Happy ending please) [submitted by anonymous]

One shot.

  And another.

  The alcohol burns her throat until it matches the burn in her eyes.

  How did she get here?

  Women scream in the living room. The stripper must have arrived.

  Katniss looks down at the sash strapped across her torso like a banner, marking her as the ‘Bachelorette’ and it makes her sick.  

  It seemed like a perfectly serviceable arrangement when Gale had come to her and expressed his feelings. They had been friends forever and he’d born witness to her struggles, so he came up with a plan that in his opinion, would suit them both.

  She would marry him and he would help her support Prim through Medical School. 

  That was the deal. Simple and clean, but it was far from it. 

  Katniss has been carrying a secret for as long as she can remember. A mark that makes her feel wrong about everything she’s done. 

  It means she lied to her oldest friend. 

It means someone is out there waiting for her.

She’s a coward who would rather ignore fate.

Months ago, it had seemed like a good idea. Marrying Gale was a nice alternative to ending up like her parents who were so in love that when one died, the other followed soon after. 

  Katniss knew damn well she’d be breaking Gale’s heart in the long run, but she’s just so afraid of the future. His offer had seemed like protection at the time.

But something had shifted in the last two weeks. She could feel it…something within her was reaching out…and she felt an answering tug.

The arrangement she’d tried to be so convincingly gung-ho about is now causing her to wake in a cold sweat every night. Saying ‘Yes’ had been a mistake. 

A big one.

Now hot flashes plagued her in the middle of the day for no apparent reason and sometimes, Katniss felt that if she reached out a hand he would just…be there.

  Even the very air she breathed seemed to be charged and the small birthmark on her hip burned. Her soulmark. The only thing Katniss could do was to throw back another shot and hope her guilt didn’t drown her.

  Loud, thumping music fills the room and the screams increase, followed by loud cat-calls. 

Johanna leaps into the kitchen and grabs her arm, pulling her into the other room as Katniss resists. 

  “Come on, Everdeen! You’re up!”

  Katniss rips off the sash filinging over Jo’s shoulder. “Why don’t you do the honors Jo.”

  “What’s up with you? There’s a hot ass man ready to dance all over your junk and you’re in here! Doing shots! Alone!”  

  “It’s not my thing, you know that.” 

  “Yeah. Yeah. Well, just this once, I’ll do you the favor!” Johanna grins wildly as she secures the slash tightly across her chest and with a whoop, she is off. 

  Katniss peeked into the chaos of the room and saw a tall, muscular, blonde man grinding on her friend’s lap as all the others looked on in excitement and approval. 

  The distraction he caused allowed her to slip out of the door undetected. Quickly making her way to the roof, hoping the cool night air would soothe her frayed nerves and cool the strange warmth in her blood.

  As she looked up at the night sky, drunk and squinting at the constellations in her memory, a song came to her. It was short and sweet and it was one often sung in her home. 

  Alone, on the cusp of making the worst mistake of her life, she couldn’t help but give in to the comfort. Her voice was smooth, the words low and soft, carried on the wind to the apartment right below her feet.

  It made her remember. 

  Though there was so much pain and anguish later in her parents lives, there had also been undeniable happiness. And love.

  They were soulmates who had stumbled upon each other at the tender age of 14. Almost three decades together wasn’t enough but Katniss, in this moment, was able to accept her parents wouldn’t have changed a thing if it meant living a life, no matter how long, without each other. 

  Since her parents died, Katniss had been so envious of Prim’s unmarked soul. It was freedom to make your own choices in life, so she pretended to be unmarked.

But just look where she is now.

Drunk and crying on the roof of her apartment building..It made her wonder if some souls were marked for a reason. If maybe she should be thanking fate instead of running from it.

  A door opens, the squeal of rusty hinges doesn’t startle her like it should, because deep down, she’s been expecting him. Her blood grows warmer with every step he takes towards her.

  Slowly, Katniss turns and bright blue eyes meet hers. He looks sleepy, with creases in his cheek from the pillow that had been cradling him and a riot of messy blonde curls. He’s not much taller than her and Katniss’s gaze drops lower to a white t-shirt, stretched over broad shoulders and a wide chest followed by strong thighs hidden beneath striped pajama pants.

  His eyes have been roaming over her as well and she can’t help but wonder what he sees. She’s small, plain and not particularly pretty, but the look in his eyes says differently. 

  The drink in her system causes her to sway forward and she looks down as his hand catches her hip. The arrow shaped mark, clearly visible on his palm matching up to the one on her hip.

  They blink wide eyes as the connection overwhelms them. His voice is soft and sweet. “I heard you singing.”

  Katniss looks into those deep blue eyes, “I was singing for you,” and when he smiles, she’s knows it’s the truth.

  “I’m Peeta Mellark. I moved in two weeks ago. I’m a baker. I never take sugar in my tea. I double knot my shoelaces and thank god I always sleep with the windows open.”

  For the first time in months, Katniss grins. “I’m Katniss Everdeen. I’m a landscape architect. I always take sugar in my tea. I love my sister and I knew…I think I knew that you would hear me.”

Epilogue

It’s been five years since they met on that rooftop and talked until the early hours, reluctantly separating so Peeta could rush off to the bakery to do the morning prep work. 

Katniss went back to her apartment, climbing over several passed out friends to get to her phone.

  Breaking things off with Gale was hard. She almost went the easy route, telling him over the phone, but Katniss knew if she wanted to salvage any part of their friendship, she needed to do it the right way. She owed him that much at least. 

He was understandably upset, said some things that took Katniss a long time to get over. But it took less than a year for Gale to find the person he was meant to be with and now he has a house full with three kids and counting. And some distant semblance of friendship formed once again. 

  It also took less than a year for Katniss and Peeta to get married. Two months to be exact. It was a rushed affair at City Hall so Prim could attend before moving across the country for school. Far from the previous wedding plans that caused Katniss nothing but constant headaches and anxiety, theirs was easy and fun and held so much meaning for both of them.  

  Katniss arranges the pictures again.

  She’s nervous even though she has no reason to be. This has to be done before Prim comes home to visit. Katniss knows her sister’s eagle eyes will spot the change. The tiny bump that’s just started to make her pants too tight. Her doctor confirmed it this morning. It was a complete surprise but it shouldn’t have been. They had been trying after all, it’s just Katniss didn’t expect it to happen immediately.

  Katniss can hear the jingle of keys as Peeta makes his way through the door and when he spots her, his eyes brighten. They always do.

  “What are you doing home?” Peeta asks as he quickly moves in to kiss her, lingering over her lips like a newlywed. His eyes fall on the black and white prints placed strategically on top of the table and his eyes widen. “Katniss…?” He stares before delicately lifting one. Tears start to form in his eyes.

  “It’s real,” Katniss whispers as she wraps her arms around him.

  Peeta hugs her tightly and she feels the connection between them that will never fade. 

  It’s happiness. It’s love.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML Dream Cont: (Cause my mind wants to make a ml saga for some reason)

Previous Dreams: (ML Dream Episode) (My Subconscious is f***ing taunting me) (Because my mind finally wants to be nice) (Yes there is more) (The one with Zag Spoilers)

Who is Arséne?

This episode seemed to have taken place right after the previous dream episode ‘Mask Master’ So apparently Lila was pissed about what happened at the masquerade ball, and told Gabriel.

-Gabriel was scolding Adrien about the whole thing. Adrien was just sort of looking sullen and sad. 

-Arséne is let in because he had something to discuss with Gabriel about some financial paper work (I think it was investing)

-Gabriel told Arséne to come back tomorrow that he was busy. Arséne said that won't work since he has a business trip, and asks Adrien whats wrong.

-Gabriel explains that Adrien had embarrassed Miss Rossi (the new model/ aka the lying B****) and that he will be taking Adrien out of school effective immediately.

-Adrien stands up. He tries to protest.

-”You have disgraced the Gabriel brand Adrien. Until you understand what that means, you will be here.”

-Arséne steps in.

-”It is my fault the boy did this Gabriel.”

-Arséne explains in detail about how Adrien was not at fault because it was his lesson (honestly I don't really remember the full explanation, but it worked)

-Gabriel tells Adrien he has a warning and to not do anything remotely of the sort to Lila in the future.

-Arséne was relieved... until Gabriel fired him instead.

-”What!”

-”You are a terrible influence on my son and I want you as far away from him as possible. Consider your lessons canceled.”

-Adrien tried to defend his tutor but Arséne told Adrien it is okay.

-”A gentleman knows when it is time to walk away.”

-Arséne said farewell to the young blond and began to walk away. Being ever so polite about it.

-”You would do better in the future to work on your manners Mr. Manochot.” Gabriel commented.

-Arséne got PISSED. He stops.

-Arséne turned back and went up to Gabriel before shouting at him, listing everything Gabriel did wrong as a business owner, as a socialite, and especially as a father.

-”I have known this boy for a few months and I am certain I have been a better father figure to him then you have been in his entire life.”

-”What are you implying?”

-”You may be his father Gabriel, but you sure as hell are not his Dad.” Arséne left in a huff.

----

-Marinette is with Kitty Section, She seemed to be just listening to their new set.  

-After they finished, Luka asked what the designer thought of the set. She said it was really awesome, but the third song did feel less... (she couldn't phrase it) But Luka understood.

-”Yea, I do think that song still needs some work.”

-Ivan approaches Marinette asking to talk to her for a second.

-Marinette knows why Ivan wants to talk and the two move to the side. Marinette shows a cat bandana with the Kitty section logo on it. It was a commission that Ivan asked for. It was for Myléne’s birthday.

-Ivan hugging and spinning Marinette out of thankfulness was adorable.

-He takes the bandana and goes to wrap it up.

Marinette was glad the drummer liked it.

-Ivan tells the band he needs to leave so that he can meet with Myléne, there is some encouragement from the band and he runs off. Practice pretty much over, everyone kind of splinters off.

-Marinette comments to Tikki that she wishes she could have something like that.

-Luka approaches Marinette, asking if she wanted to help him with the song in the third set.

-Marinette looked a bit flustered saying she is no good at rhyming and all that.

-”I could use some inspiration, and you are very inspiring” (WHY IS LUKA SO F***ING SWUAVE! THIS IS MY DREAM, HE SHOULD NOT BE) 

-Marinette agrees.

----

-Arséne is walking out of the mansion and Adrien ran after him.

-Adrien saying he doesn't want Arséne to leave, that he has been such a good tutor and mentor.

-Arséne smiling at Adrien.

-”You're a good kid Adrien, promise me you won't become anything like your father, and I will know that my lessons paid off.”

-There is an akuma, it was originally headed for Arséne, but seeing Adrien calmed the gentleman down. But Now Adrien was sad and akumatizeable. So Arséne got in the way (Zombizou parallel) got his pocket square.

-Arséne telling Adrien to run, fighting the akumatization.

-Adrien tells him to keep fighting it. That he will get help and he runs off.

-As soon as Adrien is gone, Arséne gives in. But it seemed like he Wanted to get akumatized.

-Hawkmoth introduces himself, blah blah blah.

-”Now I will Make Gabriel Agreste suffer!”

-Hawkmoth realizing errors were made.

-Monsieur Manner is born! He is wearing an all white suit, with a butterfly shaped eye mask. He has a cane, and his hair is prim and proper brown. his eyes are purple.He has an incredible mustache.

-Hawkmoth quickly changed back to Gabriel to avoid his lair being found.

-He kidnaps Gabriel and takes him to the Eiffel Tower. 

-Adrien sees this. Plagg asking if this is even a bad thing. They transform and go off to fight him.

- Gabriel pretending he has no idea whats going on. But is internally screaming.

-----

- Marinette is listening to Luka play and looks a bit smitten. Then her phone goes off, news alert. Marinette says she needs to answer a call. and walks out.

-Luka shrugs and keeps playing.

-Marinette checks the news and sees Chat noir fighting an akuma.

-Marinette tells Luka, ‘Bakery emergency and that she has to go.’

-”No worries, I feel plenty inspired thanks to you.”

-Marinette left smiling before she transformed.

-----

-Monseuir Manners had an ability to create ‘Rules’ which if people didn't follow they get punished.

- Ladybug and Chat noir realizing they were a little out of their depth and needed to find a way to beat him. Ladybug needed to go get back up.

-Myléne gets inflicted by an effect of the rules and her punishment was being turned into a statue.

-Ivan was furious, and wanted to fight against the akuma.

-Ivan helped by allowing Ladybug to escape, so Ivan got the bull Miraculous in this one. I think he was called ‘Long horn��� I just know his costume was so so, I liked other fan designs better.

-Ivan’s power was something that made him able to endure the rule breaking. I can't for the life of me remember and I know it sounded so OP in this episode. Like it made him immune to powers of others for a short time.

-The fight itself was really cool, Chat noir trying to talk down Monsieur Manners the entire time.

-They win, and Long horn is holding Myléne is the cutest thing in the world.

- Chat noir checking if Arséne is okay after he was freed.

- Arséne thanks the cat hero.

-Gabriel makes a rather vicious remark about Arséne, and Chat noir fires BACK!

-Ladybug and Arséne watching the cat go OFF on Gabriel Agreste. Arséne has some suspicions on who Chat noir is.

-Ladybug backs up her partner, because quite frankly, she agrees that Gabriel is an awful parent, (who lets Lila be a model anyway?)

-Ladynoir moment that is sweet.

-Gabriel apologizes to Arséne, asking him to come back working with him. Arséne looks at the cat hero for a moment.

-”The only reason I am agreeing to this is because of your son.”

-Kind of a touching scene.

-Later, Arséne is on his own and Tuxx comes out.

-”Did you have fun being an akuma? Did it give you insight on which side we should take?”

-Arséne doesn't say anything.

-Tuxx smirks.

-”Going soft on me?”

- “If I take down Hawkmoth, Adrien loses a father, but Hawkmoth doesn't deserve the miraculous. I need more time to think.”

-”Is time really something you have? You know the ....”

-Arséne coughs loudly into his hankerchief.

-”I know I am on a time limit Tuxx, but playing rashly will also be just as detrimental.”

-”I don't want to lose my best friend.”

-”And you say I am going soft.”

-There was a bit at the end where Arséne is going out for a date, and Miss Bustier is there. But my dream kind of cuts off there.

[talesofpanem]

Tattoo Fixers : Panem

Author: @thegirlfromoverthepond

Rating: T

Summary: Katniss needs someone to fix a bad tattoo.

AN: Deepest, deepest thanks to the amazing @xerxia31 who beta-ed this piece.

Even though I liked the prompt, it took me times to find the idea for this story - until I watched my TV, which prompted an episode of Tattoo Fixers - London. Maybe some of you from the EuroClub know about it ? Anyways, here is my take at this week’s prompt.

Hope you have fun.

_____________

She would be fascinated by the ballet of assistants running around the shop if she wasn’t embarrassed to be sitting there, being prepped by a team of make-up artists and a hairdresser. 

Just looking at the people putting mascara on her eyebrows or trying to tame her hair was a spectacle in itself, with their tattoos poking out from under every bit of clothing, along with piercings or blue hair. 

Katniss felt utterly out of place, waiting for her turn to appear on a television show she didn’t even want to go on. Alas, it was the only free way to fix something she had regretted since she had woken up after a particularly drunken night with her cousin Gale.

It was all Gale’s fault. It had been the day of her father’ funeral, the day after Gale buried his own. After the ceremony, after everyone had gone home, Gale had taken Katniss out. She hadn’t asked, just silently nodded when he had grabbed the keys of his father’s old pickup, heading out to their favorite spot in town, to get drunk.

In the hopes they could forget the void left by their fathers.

They had spent hours in that bar, drinking until they couldn’t drink anymore, until everything faded into blackness. The next morning, however, they’d woken up together in the bed of the pickup truck, each sporting the mother of all hangovers and a lovely souvenir of their evening

Apparently, they had somehow found their way to a tattoo parlor.

Since that night, Gale had sported a wonderful peacock on his biceps, which he still found funny all these  years later.

Katniss wasn’t as lucky. She all but hated the cartoonish, badly drawn bow and arrow on the inside of her forearm. The only good thing about it was its size - tiny, so a wristband could cover it easily. She took to wearing one everyday. Solid. In leather.

Arrow. Her father’s name, had been inked forever on her arm. She would have loved it if she had been able to choose the drawing properly, instead of having been branded with a cupid-ike tattoo design.

Hence her presence on the set of Tattoo Fixers, a reality show where talented tattoo artists helped people cover up their tattoo disasters with gorgeous works of inked art. 

Removing the tattoo was way too expensive for her bank account. But Prim had convinced her to share her story with all the whole country, risking the humiliation of being branded as a drunk crazy woman on cable TV.

Wonderful.

“Katniss? You’re on in five,” a young assistant told her, making the team of preppers buzz around her like there was a breach in a beehive. One man, Flavius she thought his name was, because why not, was complaining about the state of her nails, how chipped they were, how he couldn’t do miracles, how he couldn’t find time to fit in a manicure in the remaining five minutes.

“I’m a botanist. It would be destroyed by tomorrow anyway.” She shrugged the thought away, almost taking pleasure in the disgusted look on his face. Take that, Flavius.

When the assistant came back, all smiles and happy mood, Katniss followed her out of the parlor and onto the street. Just like any other participant, she would have to walk to the shop, entering as if she was a totally random client.

Bull.Shit.

The only random part was which tattoo artist she would choose. At least she would be surprised by their drawings.

This was staged TV, reality-TV. She usually couldn’t stand it. 

She sighed, taking her place ion the street.

“Remember, start walking when the director shouts ‘Action!’” 

Katniss resisted the temptation to roll her eyes.

She started walking as casually as possible when she was told to, entering the shop as naturally as she could manage, trying to avoid laughing at the host’s attire of the day. Nobody ever bothered telling Caesar Flickerman that he might be colorblind. Today, he was mixing  a flashy orange shirt with beautiful purple bermuda shorts. No doubt the episode would air in summer.

“Here is our next client!” Caesar sounded a little too enthusiastic at her entrance into the parlor. “What’s your name, darling?” He took her hand, helping her sit on the couch facing the one where the three tattoo artists were sitting.

She took a deep breath before answering, hoping her voice didn’t falter. 

As she explained why she was there, Katniss took a good look at the three people in front of her, mentally thanking Prim for the briefing she’d given Katniss before she left that morning.

There was the woman, Jo, whose body was almost fully covered in tattoos and piercings. Only her face remained pristine, making her red hair stand out. She was sitting next to Finnick, who as the star tattooist of the program was sitting between his two colleagues. Finnick’s body was a work of art. Prim had swooned over it for much too long when she had briefed her sister, showing Katniss pictures of the man who appeared to live his life shirtless. Katniss had then been privy to the numerous tattoos that adorned his back, a chinese setting, dragon included. 

She had seen several shots of him, of his so perfect body that made women of all ages swoon over him. Of course, Katniss was well aware of the dispatch of muscles, the Greek-god physique Finnick had, and fully expecting to be struck with lust as soon as she laid eyes on him in person. Yet nothing happened.

Nothing. At. All.

She was much more intrigued by the third tattooist, sitting next to Finnick. If Jo was a picture of the bad girl, Finnick the perfection, this third person was something else. He screamed “normal”, standing out from the two others, in Katniss’ opinion. Maybe it was because she couldn’t see a single tattoo on him, not even the required tribal band around his biceps.

There was something about his blue eyes, about his messy blond air that made her look at him more than the two others. Something that attracted her.

“This is Peeta, but we call him Peet. He’s the newcomer as Cato decided he needed a year off,” Finnick said and Peeta smiled. “So, how do you want us to cover the tattoo? Any specific request?”

“Well, nothing arrow-esque, or cupid-like. I’d like something that’s more inspired by nature,” she said. She just wanted the stupid bow and arrow to be covered.

Both Finnick and Jo grabbed their sketchbooks and started to draw. But she could feel Peeta’s eyes on her, lingering for a few seconds before he in turn, dived in.

“Well, tell us about you, Kathy?” Caesar said,making idle conversation to allow the tattooists time to finish their drawings.

“It’s Katniss, actually. Nothing thrilling, I’m a botanist and I live with my sister, Primrose.”

“Oh, that’s nice, she’s named for a flower!”

Katniss couldn’t help rolling her eyes. She knew this part would be cut because nobody really cared about the chit chat between a host and someone they would forget as soon as she left the office. 

“Just like I am, it’s kind of a family tradition.”

“And you’re a florist! Isn’t it amazing.”

“I’m a botanist, but not far away.”

She was already over her talk with the host. A talk she was quite sure only lasted a few minutes, still felt like two long days. 

“We’re ready, Kitty Kat. Here’s my drawing.” Jo handed over her sketchbook, on which a beautiful cat was displayed. With red fun, he would have been a striking copy of her sister’s cat, Buttercup, aka the bane of her existence. “You strike me as independent and very focused, hence, the cat.”

“It’s beautiful, Jo, thank you,” Katniss said, as she took in the beautiful shape of the cat’s ear, the detailed eyes. The woman had talent.

“I went for something more… natural,” Finnick said. “ I hope you like it!” He handed her his sketchbook, then leaned back on the couch, taking a sugarcube out of his pocket before popping it in his mouth.

On the page in front of her was a display of gorgeous intertwining orchid flowers.

 “I can do them in different shades, like a watercolor painting, you know?” Finnick added, as Katniss stared in awe.

“It’s lovely, wow, I wasn’t expecting that, Finnick.” Between the two drawings, her choice was made. She wasn’t even sure Peeta would be able to compete.

“She’ll pick mine, guys, I’m ready to bet ten bucks!” Finnick lifted his arms in victory. 

“It doesn’t have to be a big one, right?” Katniss asked, hoping his answer would be a no.

“It can be whatever you desire, sweetheart.” Finnick’s voice was sugary, and his green eyes sparkled as he winked at her.

Which made Katniss roll her eyes.

“Well, Finnick, this one’s immune to your charms.” Peeta’s voice, amused, chimed in. “Katniss, here is my take for your tattoo.”

She put down Finnick’s sketchbook to take Peeta’s. There were no words to describe her feelings when she looked down at the drawing on the paper. She had expected something somewhere between Jo and Finnick’s like an animal in nature, or just a drawing of a beach, absolutely not what she had before her eyes.

Peeta had drawn a wave.

A single, simple wave.

Yet, the closer she looked, the more details she could see. The wave was made entirely of flowers.

Primroses and katniss were braided together with such precision, with such attention, it was mesmerizing.

From two feet away the drawing looked like a wave.

But to her, for the closer her eyes got, it was a flower wall.

She opened her mouth to talk, to express how incredible she found the drawing.

No words came out.

She had to take a deep breath before gathering her thoughts before she was able to talk again.

“This. This is what I want.” 

“Shall we go, then?” Peeta asked, rising from the couch.

She nodded her agreement before following him to the back.

She was glad the cameras didn’t filming the whole process. They were busy filming other segments with other “clients”. 

“What prompted you to draw this? I mean I had no idea that was what I wanted until you showed me…” she asked.

“Your talk with Caesar. You told him you were a botanist, that it was a tradition to have flower names in your family. So I checked what Katniss was. It came up with sagit-something…”

“Sagittaria sagittifolia.,” she said under her breath.

He laughed, as he charged his machine with ink.

“Yes, that. You said you live with your sister, and I remembered you told us you got this awful thing after a funeral so I added one and one… You must have a pretty close relationship with your sister.”

“Yeah, we do …..” She was watching him come closer with his machine. She had a question, though. “How do I know you can tattoo? I mean, you don’t even have any of your own?”

“I do have one tattoo, but it’s hidden. I’m not as extrovert as Finn and Jo.”

“I noticed.. Could I see it ?”

“Well, it would involve you seeing me at least half naked… “

She blushed. “Oh, my, sorry…”

“No need to apologize. I did Finn’s dragon, and can show you pictures of previous works I’ve done,  if you need references …. “

“It’s okay, I trust you.”

He smiled, a gentle, kind, warm smile at her words.

As soon as he started working on her forearm the cameras returned. He explained the steps he was taking, using the shape of the bow for the wave, the body of the arrow to line up the braids of flowers.

“It’s done. You can look.” His voice took her by surprise.  She looked down, finding herself at a loss for words, again.

There was no way she would hide this one under a wristband.

After the mandatory shots for the TV, Peeta was wrapping her arm in cello, when he asked.

“I kinda won twenty bucks earlier, thanks to you. Want to share it with a tea?”

“No,” she answered. As his face fell, she added, “But I’d love a hot chocolate with whipped cream, if you know a place.”

He knew a place.

(Turned out he had a tree of life tattoo along his ribcage. She could spend hours tracing it with her fingers. Or her tongue.)

[pyromania-maniac]

Character sheet  Jamison J. Fawkes

Full name: Jamison Jacob Fawkes Pronunciation: Jai-mih-shun J-cub F-awks Nicknames: Junku, Junkrat, Jamie, Rat, JJ Gender: Cis Male Height: 2.07 m / 6'7"  Zodiac: Adopted Capricorn (January 1st) cause he couldn’t remember his b-day Spoken languages: English, Mandarin, French, German, and Japanese 

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS. Hair color: Ashey blonde Eye color: Fiery amber orange Skin tone: Fair and tanned Body type: Slim and athletic  Accent: Heavy Australian  Dominant hand: Self-taught Ambidextrous. Posture: Slouched 90% of the time Tattoos: On his right shoulder he has a flaming rat skull and crosses dynamics and rat paw prints that lead from his left trapezius to his left pec Most noticeable feature: His missing limbs that have been replaced with prosthetic limbs (Missing his right forearm and his right leg past his knee)  

CHILDHOOD. Place of birth: Australia  Hometown: Sydney, Australia Manner of birth: Natural. First words:  "MINE!”  Siblings: All his siblings were adopted, but he had five sisters (Three older and two younger) and three brothers (Two older and one younger) Parents: Josephine Fawkes (birth mom) and Abigail Fawkes  Parental involvement: Loving and caring parents, they took wonderful care overall for all their children until the days of their passing. 

ADULT LIFE. Occupation: Junker (formerly), Anarchist, Demolitionist, Mercenary, Scavenger, and Criminal Current residence: One of the many secret Overwatch bases Close friends: Roadhogs, Mercy, Hana song, and Lucio Relationship status: Currently dating @no-lane-blacktop Financial status: Secretly rich, but doesn’t flaunt or appear rich Driver’s license:  Nope, everyone else drives his dumbass around. Criminal record: Theft, assault, arson, kidnapping, armed robbery, and burglary Vices: Greed, pride, wrath, alcohol, and drugs

SEX & ROMANCE. Sexual orientation: Demisexual Romantic orientation: Biromantic & polygamous   Preferred emotional role: submissive  |  dominant  |  switch  | unknown Preferred sexual role: submissive  |  dominant |  switch |  sex repulsed Libido: Depends on who he’s with, somewhere in the middle usually  Turn ons: BIGGER the BETTER, tattoos, piercings, people that could kill him instantly, people who throws care to the wind to follow after him, people who laugh at his stupid jokes, and finally people who can match his energy levels Turn offs: “Suits” aka snotty rich fuckers, people who ask too many questions, prim and proper folks, clean freaks, and people who are repulsed by his behavior  Love language: TOUCH! Oh there is so much physical touching if he likes someone. Examples: Climbing on them, hand holding, brief “accidental” touches, and etc Relationship tendencies: Junku tends to go MIA for several days without a single word (Mostly cause he forgets to check-in or gets hyper focused on a project) and then reappears to smother his SO/s in all the rambunctious love he has to offer. Then the cycle continues. 

MISCELLANEOUS. Character’s theme song: Sam Tinnesz - Play With Fire feat. Yacht Money Hobbies to pass the time: Mostly tinkering on old and new projects he has in his workshop. Likes helping to fix and take things apart randomly around the base too. Setting off and watching his explosions is another favorite pass time of his. Mental illnesses: ADHD, psychological trauma, and borderline personality disorder Physical illness: Phantom pains in both of his stumps (Right arm and right leg) Left or right brained: Right brained, for sure Fears: Thunder storms, the ocean, and being abandoned  Self confidence level: Super high, almost to narcissistic levels  Vulnerabilities: Complete deafening silence, mentions of meeting his Roadhog, and being a horrible compulsive liar 

[vagrantblvrd]

The Long Way Around (1/1)

Summary: Ryan goes out of town and all his rules about who’s allowed to play in his little sandbox go right out the window.

Notes: Takes place in the Not A Good Man (But You Got Conviction). (AKA Batman AU)

(Read on AO3)

It starts with a familiar face.

Pretty blue eyes and luscious blonde locks to die for.

Flirty little smile and a sultry, “Hello, Trevor,” and “Haven’t seen you in ages,” and “You son of a bitch,” followed by a right hook that snaps his head back, ring-a-ding-ding.

And:

“You deserved that for what you put everyone through, you asshole.”

Trevor blinks up at her from his spot on the ground, ears ringing and Barbara scowling down at him, hand outstretched to help him back up. (Partners in crime once upon a time as the saying goes, and one hell of a headache for everyone else.)

She’s not wrong. (A little bit yes, though, but she’s never been part of the family squabble.)

Always was a strange girl, Barbara.

Played the part of rich socialite to a tee. Got the press fawning over her and smoothing over any ruffled feathers Sorola might leave behind.

Vicious right hook (her left wasn’t too shabby either) and one hell of a shot with that bow of hers. (Always threw the bad guys for a loop when she pulled the damn thing out, Speedy to Sorola’s Green Arrow and the trickiest of trick arrows to complement the boring regular ones.)

“You always know how to treat a guy,” Trevor says, accepts her offer of help and climbs to his feet, jaw aching.

Barbara smiles at him, disdain to it as she takes in his current abode.

Quaint, some might call it. Rustic is another good word. (Shitty, though, that’s the one Trevor’s looking for.)

Leaky ceilings and creaky floors. Windows that rattle when the wind picks up and this cough-wheeze from the refrigerator that came with the place. Shabby furniture and the thinnest walls and nosy neighbors.

“Nice place,” Barbara says, politely doesn’t make a face when something in the walls gnaws away at rotting wood. “Very...you.”

Well if that isn’t a back-handed compliment.

Trevor mimics her smile and moseys on over to the refrigerator and pulls out an ice pack. Ignores the raised eyebrow from Barbara – she knows she hits hard – and leans against the counter to watch her.

Looks prim and proper until you take a closer look, and even then she’s a damn fine actor. Pretty face that too many people underestimate, in costume and out. (As devastating fighting crime as she in in the board room.)

“To what do I owe the honor of your presence?”

Ryan’s got this policy, you see. Rules he’s set up that most – most – of the caped crowd abides by. No metas in Gotham, except for the ones who live here, but shh about them. (Surprise, surprise, Ryan’s a hypocrite.)

The Arrows aren’t metas, though, and boy do they love using those little loopholes to rile Ryan up something fierce. (Not that it matters this time around. Ryan’s off with the Justice League tackling some major threat or another, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah.)

Barbara makes a face, reaches over to flick on the lights.

“I need your help,” she says, like just saying the words causes her pain.

(Trevor and Barbara and all the trouble they used to get into way back when and the trouble he causes now. Bit of a disconnect between the two, and Trevor’s not doing much to help.)

Trevor lowers the ice pack, feels a smile coming on.

“Do you now,” Trevor muses. “How interesting.”

(Things were getting boring without Ryan around to harass, heckle, and Barbara always found the best kind of trouble.)

========

There’s an asshole.

Started out in Star City peddling weapons and other fun things. Stirring up trouble and giving the Arrows a run for their money – which, a lot because Arrows - and now he’s in Gotham somewhere doing much the same.

The Bats and the Birds don’t know about him yet, which is fine because Barbara wants to be the one to nail his balls to the wall -

“Colorfully put as always.”

- and she’s been meaning to give Trevor a piece of her mind (fist to the face) for the shit he pulled since he’s been back.

Also, she’s calling in one of those favors he owes her.

Just needs some info, a lead to follow. Anything to help her track the asshole down, let him know she’s not about to let him slip out of her grasp.

The others would help, but they’re also a little too...Battish for what Barbara’s doing right now. Not quite toeing the line between goody-good and Trevor’s kind of problematic, but this asshole is pushing her far to close to it for anyone’s peace of mind.

So.

There’s a place Trevor knows where someone’s always good for news about the asshole Barbara’s looking for.

He flashes her a little grin – not quite right anymore, but it gets the job done most days.

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” he says, and gives her directions to the wrong side of the tracks. (Pretty much everywhere, here in Gotham.)

She gives him a skeptical look as he tells her to park just the other side of the proverbial tracks – nice car like the one she’s driving? Yeah. Not going to want to sully it taking it anywhere near there. He tips an imaginary hat to her as he hops out of their car and strolls on into (one of) the bad parts of town with a promise to be back soon. (She’s got a memorable face, Barbara, and the people Trevor needs to talk to  will know she’s not one of theirs.)

Takes a nice big breath as he walks along, lets it sink in as he slips into character. Leans against a wall for a moment and tucks a pebble down into his shoe because it’s been a long day and his feet are killing him, brings out a limp, don’t you know. Stands up and a few feet later he slaps on a beanie because he’s been working down at the docks and his ears get cold -

” - toque! It’s a toque! How many times do I have to tell you, Collins?”, the laugh that always came with that blinding smile, hands reaching out to tug it down over his eyes before she was dancing out of reach again.

Trevor stumbles over nothing, swearing under his breath as he shakes it off and steps back into the present.

Leaves his old ghosts behind because he doesn’t have time for them now, and Barbara coming back into his life like this is a problem. Brings up memories of Before when Trevor had a better grasp on sanity and anger wasn’t so lose to the surface for him. (Oh, he’s a goddamned mess, isn’t he.)

Tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he glances around.

Rundown, all the renovations and beautification projects HI is funding to make Gotham a better place, a city they can take pride in again, haven’t quite reached this far yet. No one to smooth out the cracked asphalt and patch up crumbling sidewalks. Throw a little paint on the buildings around here and replace a few lightbulbs. Plant some trees, toss in some flowers, maybe a shrub.

Window dressings for a deeper problem, and Trevor has to consciously uncurl his hands, shake out the anger and leave that behind for the moment as well because they don’t have a place for the dockworker he’s playing at being.

He stops off at an old pool hall turned seedy dive bar (not much of a switch, when it comes down to it) and good old Paulie at the bar is just the sort to run his mouth if you ply him with enough alcohol.

“Oh, that guy,” Paulie says, family roots from all the way up north going back generations.

Fishermen living on a cramped little boat for months on end to make a living and television crews begging to have them on for some show or another the public can’t get enough of.

Manufactured drama and good old drunken brawls. Old feuds and a tiff or two. Touch of family bullshit dragged into the light of day to boost ratings. Saucy innuendo tossed in here and there when viewership dips too low. And people loved Paulie when he was on, they did, but he got a little wild didn’t he, and the producers got tired of making excuses for him when his bail got set higher and higher and now he’s running around Gotham and stirring up all kinds of new trouble.

Trevor grins at Paulie and buys him a round, and then another and another. Drops a name or two, a couple of stories about the assholes in Paulie’s hometown (they’ve done this dance before, and Trevor always does his homework) and then it’s just like they’ve known each other since they were kids. No problem for Paulie to let a few things slip he shouldn’t when they’ve got that kind of history.

“Yeah?” Trevor says, waves Sharon (God love name-tags) over for another round of drinks and toasts to Paulie’s favorite team making a bid for the playoffs, poor bastards. Up against a real team and does Paulie really think they stand a chance after the season they’ve had?

“Fuck you!” Paulie crows, grin his voice and too fucking drunk for his own good and Trevor laughs, throws an arm around Paulie’s shoulders and raises his drink.

“Fuck me!” he echoes, and the two of them laugh like it’s an old joke between them.

“Yeah, yeah,” Paulie says, tugs Trevor closer because this is shit no one else needs to hear. Just a couple of friends and some good old fashioned bitching.

Gives Trevor the information he came looking for and something of a bonus besides.

Tells him the asshole is planning to set up shop over in Bludhaven soon. As bad as Gotham is, Bludhaven is worse, and an asshole like him stands to make a killing there. (Assuming he doesn’t make a misstep with the criminal element there first.)

Has some gofer working for him there running around smoothing things over before he steps foot in the city.

“I mean, come the fuck on, who the fuck wears purple and orange like that?”

Paulie looks disgusted, horrified, at the state of criminals these days. Plenty of flair to them, sure, but no kind of fashion sense at all like there used to be back in his day.

Trevor laughs so hard he spills his beer all over Paulie and stumbles over himself to apologize. Buys him another drink to make up for it and Paulie’s too far gone to notice when Trevor slips away not too long after that.

Ruminates on the Bats and the Birds and a few of their choice undercover identities they take an odd sort of liking to, go back to again and again.

Ryan’s favorite police detective with an accent Ryan always has a hard time of shaking after he slips into character. Jeremy’s own police detective when one just won’t do and the two of them certifiable menaces when working together.

Trevor’s got a costume trunk of his own. All these people whose identities he inhabits through training and long practice tucked in the back of his head ready to be called upon on a moment’s notice. (Flocks and feathers and dank little caves under a sprawling manor.)

He’s pulled back to the here and now when someone yells, leans out their window to shout at their neighbor about the racket they’re making. Music on too loud and goddammit, some of them work the early shift.

Trevor hunches down into his coat as he passes by. Keeps the slouch and slight limp going strong until he ducks down an alley and sheds it all like water in a matter of strides. Roots around in his shoe as he crouches down to retie the laces and flicks the rock into a convenient pothole, good riddance and then he’s walking again.

Tugs the beanie (toque) off and into his pocket, another step and he slips his jacket off because the brisk walk is warming him up. Lock of hair in his eyes which might mean it’s time for a haircut, so he reaches up to straighten it.

By the time he hits the end of the alley and swings a right to where a sweet little sports car parked is parked across the way he doesn’t look a thing like Paulie’s old friend from back home. (Maybe around the face, but don’t you know? They say everyone’s got a doppelganger out there, hahaha.)

Not a lot of foot traffic this part of town at this hour, and all the good little Birds (and a Bat or two) should be winging their way home to roost for the night soon.

“Well?” Barbara asks when Trevor hops in, manicured nails tap, tap, tapping out a beat on the fine leather of the steering wheel. Not very discreet, this car she’s driving, but that’s an Arrow for you. “What did you find out?”

Trevor glances at her, feels his lips twitch up into a smile because boy does he have news for her.

========

Barbara heads off to Bludhaven - “Thanks, but I can handle it from here, bird-boy,” - and Trevor sees her off with this little half-smile.

Doesn’t bother to correct her, knows she did it on purpose. (Clever one, that Barbara. Knows him a little too well even now.)

It’s tempting to follow along behind her given the asshole she’s chasing after, but, well.

She’d kick his ass if she knew, and Bludhaven is Jeremy’s city. Trevor’s not ready to go traipsing about there with the baggage he’s still unpacking. Lot of anger left to him, still.

No, better he keeps out of it. Her fight to finish, and besides, there are plenty of faces for him to pound here in Gotham, work out his aggression the old-fashioned way.

A little bird he can heckle the hell out of and know he’ll get the same back because Alfredo is still a feisty one. Gives Trevor grief the way the others can’t just yet, too worried about pushing the wrong buttons.

Eggshells and the way they tiptoe around them, and God does Trevor hate how careful, considerate they are with him. (Worried looks and hushed conversation like he doesn’t know. Kicks up the anger, frustration all over again and it’s a vicious, vicious cycle with them. Exhausting, too.)

It’s late though, or early, given how you look at it and he’s had a busy night and feels it, exhaustion dragging at his bones.

Sheds the pieces of armor – literal and figurative – the Red Hood wears to fight the good (and not so good) fight on the streets of Gotham again and again and again. Washes his face, brushes his teeth, all the things one does, neat little routine. This and this and this, hoping it will lead to a restful night and sweet dreams, and ends up staring at the ceiling of his bedroom like someone waiting for the punchline to a bad joke like every other night before.

Sleep doesn’t come as easily to him as it once did. All those nightmares of his. Nasty things full of the toxic green of the pit and sensation of drowning and pain. Rewind a little further back and a madman’s laughter echoing in his ears and the fact that Trevor can never tell if it’s his own or the Joker’s, and try not to remember, but it never works.

Trevor laughs, dark and bitter tasting because this is his life now. Broken, jagged pieces he’s trying to fit back together best he can and all these little obstacles, setbacks littering his path. (Fun, fun times.)

A sigh, exhale of breath and he finds himself looking at the moon outside his window.

Cold and distant, uncaring about puny human problems.

Oddly reassuring, that, helps to put things in perspective. (Or maybe it’s just the fact it’ll still be there long after said puny human problems stop mattering. One or the other.)

“Goodnight moon,” he says, “see you again tomorrow.”

And the night after than and so on and so on, because that’s the way these things go, no way out but through, as it goes,  and he’s always been the stubborn sort.

[violet-matthews]

@normalhqs

NAME.

FULL NAME: Violet Marie Matthews PREFERRED NAME/NICKNAMES: Violet, Vi GENERALLY REFERRED TO AS: Violet by most, Vi by those she is close to (aka her dad and everyone at the station).

APPEARANCE.

FACECLAIM: Lili Reinhart SEX: Cisgender Female HEIGHT: 5′6 WEIGHT: 123 lbs. BUILD: Relatively thin, minorly toned. She takes PE but is not a part of any particular sport. HAIR: Medium length with a slight curl, blonde, soft thanks to conditioner, and down most of the time (in a ponytail, bun, or half-up/half-down otherwise). HANDS: Average sized hands. Not small, but not large. Long fingers and nails that have never had a proper manicure but well taken care of. Smooth skin. SCARS: Physically? None. Yet. Miraculously. Mentally, many. CLOTHES: Varied. Top stores include Urban Outfitters, Forever 21, and Madewell-inspired looks (but not actual Madewell because she doesn’t have that kind of cash). Vi likes girly clothes (she’s big on dresses, skirts, florals, pastels, jumpsuits, cardigans, etc.), sometimes leaning towards preppy. On the other end of the spectrum, though, she’s obsessed with overalls. She wears some form of them at least once a week.

SPEECH.

VOICECLAIM: Lili Reinhart ACCENT: Slight regional dialect, but it’s definitely not strong. Her father’s is way worse. VERBAL TICKS: N/A. Vi isn’t used to speaking much, but she doesn’t struggle with the act of it. It’s more that she doesn’t always think before she speaks, so her words just come pouring out of her and she finds herself regretting things later. LANGUAGE: Fluent in English, learning French. ARTICULATION: Pretty articulate. She’s good at speaking her mind, and only trips over her words when things have gotten awkward and are only getting worse. EDUCATION: Vi has a decent vocabulary and makes the occasional literary reference. She’s still a high school junior, so that’s where the bar really should be set, but she’s bright. She takes pride in the fact that she has a decent amount of knowledge and she excels in school. LAUGHTER: Vi has a few different laughs. Fake, small yet genuine, small and based in being bitter or petty, small and based in nervousness, and absolutely genuine based on hilarity. She doesn’t laugh all that often, but if she does it’s definitely in one of the above categories. Each laugh is slightly different, but she’s not one to be too loud in general. BREATHING: She sighs occasionally, but otherwise things are pretty one-note.

MANNERISMS.

FACE: Vi’s face shows way more expression than she’d like. She has to actively mentally coach her expression to remain neutral, but she’s gotten better at it. HANDS: She has a set repertoire of smaller gestures that she uses when speaking (pointing, connecting the dots, and other general gestures) LEGS/FEET: Violet’s legs are pretty stationary. EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS: She definitely bottles up her emotions and journals them out later. She allows herself to feel more of the happy emotions, but things like frustration... just sort of shine through. HABITS: Nothing major. She’s tried to blend in and be invisible for so long that anything that grabs attention visually or audibly she tries to avoid. POSTURE: Posture definitely changes with mood. Normally she’s pretty prim and proper with just the slightest hint of a teen slouch. The longer the day goes for her, the less proper it gets. PERSONAL SPACE: Big on personal space. She doesn’t really like to be touched, and there’s only a rare number of occasions that she’ll make exceptions. She’s therefore really good at respecting others’ personal spaces. (She’s not a hugger, and can’t remember the last time she initiated a hug, but if the situation absolutely calls for it, she’ll make it work).

HEALTH:

DIET: As well-balanced as it can be considering the fact that 4 out of 5 times her dinner is takeout. Breakfast is definitely balanced, though. When she’s stressed, eating is the last thing on her mind. SLEEP: She tries to get in the recommended amount, but is rarely successful. She’s up early for breakfast every day with her dad, so she always has that limit. She dreams, but they’re never ones she remembers. EXERCISE: She exercises in PE. That’s about it. ACTIVITY: She goes at things hard, so she’ll absolutely work herself to the point of exhaustion. If you’re not trying your best, are you even trying? CLEANLINESS: She’s cleanly. Great hygiene. She showers, she brushes her teeth, she flosses. ODOR: Not a bad odor. Very slight, quite fresh. Clean laundry mixed with something vaguely floral. MEDICINAL DRUGS: Allergy medicine, but nothing else. NARCOTICS: Absolutely not. ADDICTIONS: None. ILLNESS: None actually diagnosed, but probably at least one form of metal illness that could greatly benefit from therapy. INJURIES: No physical injuries. Her mother leaving has caused a ripple effect emotionally, however.

PERSONAL.

INTROVERT/EXTROVERT?: Introvert. Even in situations where she’s pretending to be an extrovert.  OPTIMIST/PESSIMIST: Realist. She fluctuates, depending on the situation. SEXUALITY: Demisexual. She’s never taken an interest in anyone in that way before and doesn’t really see the merit of it. The more she gets to know someone the more potential there is for something to develop, but that involves her getting to know people. Which she doesn’t do. ROMANTIC: Demiromantic. Again, she really needs to know the person to begin to have any feelings whatsoever. When it comes to romance itself, Violet doesn’t know the first thing about it. She’s quite independent, and she doesn’t see that changing any time soon. She didn’t exactly have the best of relationships to look up to when she was a child, so that definitely had some impact on her thinking now. MEMORY: A good memory. She writes things down to ensure she remembers them too. PLANNING: Great at planning. Sometimes it goes out the window, but Violet really does her best to make sure she’s prepared. INTUITION: Good intuition. She’s had plenty of time to learn about what the best decisions to make in various social settings are, and being the sheriff’s daughter has taught her something about intuition in general (aka follow it). PROBLEM SOLVING: Loves problem solving. Not, like, listening to people’s problems and advising, but puzzles and mysteries. She’s a curious girl, and she likes getting answers. GOALS: Main goal is to get out of Normal. All of her small goals relate to that and maintaining a decent relationship with the only family member she has. INSECURITIES: Only recently has she really become insecure about the fact that her best friend is her dad, so she’s trying to put herself out there just a little more. She’s also vaguely insecure about how she looks. When she does speak up, she needs to feel like she’s being properly understood and is never in a situation where she could be misquoted. ACHIEVEMENTS: Violet’s gotten a decent amount of academic awards. She treasures them. She thinks they’re her ticket out of town. ANXIETY: Social anxiety for sure. Most of her anxiety stems from that. SELF-HELP: She deals with her life problems by ignoring them or noting them in her journal. She doesn’t work them out. COMFORTS: A good book, a quiet room, the ability to just vent through writing and know no one will read it. BAD HABITS: Lately it’s ignoring the voice in her head that says to stop talking. Generally, it’s her constantly switching friend groups, even if sometimes she wants to stay. PHILOSOPHY: She was vaguely religious in childhood, but that went away when her mom did. Dad doesn’t have time for church. TRIGGERS: None that she’s aware of yet.

THE PAST.

PARENTS/GUARDIANS: Great relationship with dad on most days. No relationship with her mother. LIFE EVENTS: Violet’s life was greatly altered by her mother leaving (she has some pretty serious abandonment issues that have manifested in various ways), but perhaps even moreso by how the town reacted. If it had been a quiet leave that no one discussed, she might have turned out entirely differently. Instead, she very quickly learned the importance of avoiding the spotlight at all costs. WORST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: The day her mom left (and the next year after it). BEST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: Hasn’t happened yet. Everything’s been pretty one-note since.

RELATIONSHIPS.

FAMILY: Violet’s only family is her dad. He was an only child and both of his parents have passed. She doesn’t know anyone on her mother’s side. To her knowledge she’s an only child. FRIENDSHIPS: Violet doesn’t have any friends. Any true friends, at least. She tries to keep good relations with pretty much everyone she comes across, but she’s actively avoided any genuine friendships. Her closest friends (beyond her dad) are probably the other employees at the station. Vi doesn’t know what she actually wants in a friend, but the ability to listen and know when talking was the last thing she wanted would be nice. Also some mutual interests. FRIENDS IN NEED: Violet hasn’t had to do this yet. She’d likely be mildly uncomfortable with it at first, but she’d give it her best effort NEEDING A FRIEND: Violet goes to her journal with most of her problems. If she really needs help she’ll go to her dad, but he thinks she’s pretty self-sufficient. ANNOYANCES: Violet gets surprisingly petty surprisingly quickly. While normally she’s able to just bottle everything up, if someone is really determined to get something out of her, they will. She prefers to have the last word too. ROMANCE: Violet has no clue how to woo anyone, but if she’s going to be with someone, she wants it to be someone who she has a good rapport with. Someone she’s actually interested in talking to and sharing with. Aka not Norman Normal, who she finds tragically boring. ADVERSARIES: People who are unnecessarily cruel. If you’re being mean and you don’t have a reason, Violet has no time for you. ENEMIES: She has no enemies yet beyond town gossip. STRANGERS: Violet’s good with strangers, since she prefers for most people to remain on that level to her. FUN STUFF: Doing normal teenage things? Going to the movies, hanging out at Marie’s. DATING: Violet has never dated before and therefore does not know the first thing about dating. If she had to choose her ideal date, it would probably be at the library. Minimal talking, but they could choose books for each other and she’d try not to judge based on what she was given. Book choices say a lot. BEST FRIEND: Honestly, it’s her father. She doesn’t even really consider herself to have friends. LOVE: N/A WORST ENEMY: None. Yet.

INTERACTIONS.

MINGLING: Vi is a social butterfly. She’s great at mingling, but she tries to keep herself distant at some level at all times. COMFORT LEVELS: Violet is an introvert and she doesn’t necessarily enjoy talking to others, but she does it out of necessity. PHYSICAL: Violet avoids physical touch. GROUPS: Violet prefers small groups 99/100 times. OPENNESS: Violet is very reserved and distant. She frequently deflects questions about herself by asking questions about the person she is conversing with. Anything so as to not draw attention to herself. GENEROSITY: Vi hasn’t ever really had to be generous, but she has it in her to be. It’s pretty likely she’ll order pizza for the Murder Club on several occasions. JEALOUSY: Vi sometimes gets jealous of people with really present parents, but at the end of the day it’s not something she’d lose sleep over. She just journals it out and everything’s fine. TEMPER: Violet has a decent amount of patience, but if someone is pushing very specific buttons, she’ll be worked up in seconds. EMPATHY: Violet’s decent at empathy. She can connect the dots as to why they’re feeling a particular way and gains her understanding that way. She still tries to keep her distance, but she’s had to use empathy in some social situations before. AFFECTION: Affectionate in quiet ways. Never through touch, but through small gestures. You know she cares when she remembers small things about you and maybe just shows up one day and offers you the chips you mentioned one time that you liked. DISTASTE: Her eyes say it so her words don’t have to. Vi isn’t out to make any enemies. ETIQUETTE: She’s a polite girl. She sticks to social norms. Her father would be disappointed in her if she didn’t. RESPONSIBILITY: Violet hates to admit when she’s wrong, but she’ll quietly try and correct things. If she’s forced to admit she messed up, it’s a very bitter admission. SELF ESTEEM: Vi has some. Not a ton, but enough that she doesn’t feel bad about herself and her choices at every turn. CONFIDENCE: Vi likes to think that she doesn’t care what others think of her, but she definitely does. Others talking about her is her worst nightmare. HONESTY: She tries not to speak her honest opinion. Sometimes it slips out. It’s not always nice. LEADER OR FOLLOWER: She’s tried to force herself to be a follower, but deep down she’s more of a leader. PRAISE: Vi is very bad at taking compliments, but she has a general understanding of how she probably should do it. FAILURES: She just sort of disappears and refuses to share. Eventually for someone that has to be annoying. She would also definitely ghost someone. CRITICISM: She takes criticism very poorly. In her mind, no one even knows her well enough to criticize her. INSULTS: Vi wants to have a comeback for every insult that comes her way. It’s rare that it happens, so it’s a nice chance to use her wit. EMBARRASSMENT: If she does anything embarrassing in public and thinks anyone has seen, Vi wants to immediately crawl in a hole and die. FLIRTING: She’s not flirtatious at all, but if for some reason she needed to be, she’s seen enough movies that she could probably act her way out of things. ATTENTION SPAN: Good attention span as long as the situation isn’t overwhelming. Vi does a lot, so her focus is always somewhat split. SITUATIONS: Vi’s good at mediating, since she doesn’t like to assign herself to a side. She tries to avoid doing it, however, in case things get messy.

LIFE.

DUTY: On top of being a good student, Violet takes care of her dad by making sure he’s eating and encouraging him to sleep. She’s done it for as long as she can remember, but it’s definitely gotten harder lately. She also volunteers (sometimes paid, mostly not) at the local library. TECH: Good at technology. She’s never really had a life without it. POLITICS: Violet is big on voting. Clearly. She’s pro-police because of her father (and stubborn about it, though the tide could turn). And she has more liberal beliefs. COMBAT SKILLS: Surprisingly high. Violet’s dad made her take self-defense classes when she was younger and she gets a refresher every other year. He also taught her how to shoot and she learned archery in Girl Scouts. In case of emergency, she’s prepared... though given that she’s not a superhero who conveniently carries arrows around, the archery thing probably won’t be so useful in a fight. HOME: Things are kept tidy in the Matthews home. A little less so lately, but there’s still an order. DAILY LIFE: She’s pretty good at keeping up with the twists and turns of daily life. Her trick is to remain just detached enough that nothing quite phases her. INDEPENDENCE: Super independent. With her father working as much as he does, Vi’s been on her own minus some daily checking in over meals for a while. Most of the time she prefers it. Sometimes it gets lonely. COOKING: She cooks. Decently well. She also sometimes saves up her fridge money to do her own grocery shopping, since constant takeout meals gets boring CLEANING: Violet was given a rigorous chore schedule when she was young, and she’s been able to keep up with it over the years. If her dad isn’t home much, someone needs to keep things clean. SHOPPING: She shops, but it’s normally not a long thing and half of the time it’s online. She’s gone on social shopping trips occasionally when she’s social butterflying into a group that does that, but it’s definitely not something she’s used to. DRIVING: Violet knows how to drive out of necessity and has a license, but she doesn’t have a car. FINANCES: Violet comes from a single-income household and really doesn’t make any money on her own, so she’s not in the best of financial positions but she’s certainly not poor. She doesn’t get an allowance, but she essentially gets a food stipend every day, so it adds up. She’s good at saving it, too. She knows she’ll need every penny once college rolls around. PETS: No pets. She also presently doesn’t want any. Why get one now if you probably can’t take it with you to college? LAW: Violet truly does her best to avoid breaking the law. She’s not sure what would happen if someone caught her doing it, but at the very least she’d definitely get an ‘I’m very disappointed in you’ talk from... well, everyone at the station. TRAVELING: Her dad is a workaholic, so she hasn’t been on a real vacation since her mom left. Before then it was just to nearby locations. When she was in Girl Scouts, she went camping. MEDICAL: Violet’s number one priority is taking care of herself, so she seeks out medical attention when she needs it. WORRIES: Plenty. Mostly it’s a ‘what if I get stuck in Normal for the rest of my life’ thing,  but it constantly varies. PEACE: Used to the quiet. Since she’s had a lot of alone time growing up, it’s just her normal. She sometimes finds it difficult to concentrate if there’s a lot happening. PARTYING: Violet is not a partier. Normally she doesn’t see the use in showing up at one, since she socializes out of necessity. HOBBIES: Journaling, reading, more recently investigating (it’s nice to have that purpose now).

[lol-jackles]

Dean seems to be the more predictable one out of the brothers. Have you ever been surprised by something he's done? I wanted to say the time he let the blonde werewolf chick go but even then I think that was on the heels of Benny so that explains it.

Have I ever been surprised….. … I guess no.   Some of his attachment to sidecharacters make no sense, from the This is Us Guy to Cas, Claire, Crowley, and even Lisa and her spawn, but I understand he was propping them up and their spotlighted stories.  If it was Sam instead who was doing what Dean was doing then the “surprise” (aka OOC) would be much more glaring, like mouring Crowley’s death.  Sam doesn’t grieve for Crowley, doesn’t pray to demand God to bring him back because why should he?  Crowley killed Sarah Blake and other people he saved in the past.  Crowly tricked Sam into believing he sent Lucifer back to the cage and enabled Lucifer to break free again.  If Sam did what Dean did in 13.01, it would have gotten a “huh?”from the audience.  But most didn’t bat an eye when Dean did it because his grief for Crowely was to honor Crowley the character, it wasn’t about Dean.

It’s not Castiel’s job to like Sam, the important question is if Sam likes Cas.  What makes a character likable in the general audience eyes is if the lead character likes and cares other characters, not if everybody likes the lead character.

We like Harry Potter in part because he cares so much about his friends, Ron and Hermonie.  Katniss Everdeen is a bit of a prickly protagonist, but readers love her from the start because she deeply cares for and love her sister, Prim, and and then Peeta even though pretty much everybody find him annoying by the last book/movie.

People hate Mary Sue characters because everybody, including the protagonist, loves the Mary Sue character for vague or superficial or for no reasons other than Mary Sue is perfect and great at what she does.

Some of the most jarring scenes in The Walking Dead was when out of nowhere the side characters tell Rick Grimes that he is a wonderful leader and blameless for stuff that went sideways under his watch.    What makes Rick likable isn’t that other character like him, it's his devotion to his son and to the group’s survival at all cost.  

Going back to the 13.21 example, Cas wasn’t acting like an angel who has been on the show for 10 years, instead, Cas was written as a human plot device to separate Dean from Sam so that the story can have it’s pivotal and cliffhanger scene of Sam and Lucifer.  For what’s it's worth, Cas did act like he likes Sam because he called out Sam’s name as he chased them down the dark tunnel. 

[angstmongertina]

Recovery (Jihyun Kim/MC)

Part 2 of the prompts by @gerundsandcoffee. This was supposed to be fluff, and then my brain went “but NIGHTMARE HURT/COMFORT” and then I saw a piano version of V’s theme and listened to the sad version and cried so I don’t know whether it counts as fluff anymore. (Spoiler alert: It probably doesn’t.)

*lies down* I just… why do I do this to myself?

Spoilers for V’s route! Also trigger warning for possible implied torture (nothing graphic by any means but just to be safe).

AO3 Link

Recovery aka 98. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

Recovery is a process. And like any, there are good days, and bad ones.

He has never thought to tell Eunbyeol about the dreams, didn’t really think it was necessary, not anymore. Oh, they were frequent at first, leaving him sweat-soaked and breathless and, more often than not, with her name on his lips. The first night, he awoke in pitch black, wrapped in sheets that felt more stifling than comforting, and reached for his phone on instinct. He had nearly finished dialing her number before the panic subsided, the image of her, suffering from the effects of whatever poison Rika had concocted, fading from his vision, leaving him shaking and nauseous, yet lucid enough to know that she was sleeping and well, even if he could not bring himself to fall back asleep.

But over time, as he explored and fell in love with nature once again, as he learned to understand and accept himself, they lessened. By the time he returned home, returned to her, her image haunted his daydreams far more than his nightmares, and he figured that it was safe to let go.

Until now.

There is no reason for it to strike now, of all times. By now, her apartment is as familiar as his home, if not more so for her presence. They are both used to the process of preparing for bed together, their maintained separate residences for show more than for practice. It is natural for him to pull her close, heart squeezing tightly in his chest, even now, as she curls up against him, her head fitting into the crook of his neck and arm draped across his chest.

“Good night, my love,” he whispers, kissing the top of her head and he can feel her lips curling into a smile against his neck.

“Good night.” Her sleepy reply is muffled but audible and he drifts to sleep easily in her arms.

The night is calm, snug in her presence. But soon, his vision is filled with darkness, not the warm, comforting sensation when he fell asleep, but instead cold and isolating, and he blinks as bars solidify in his vision. Thick metal bars, extending from the stone ceiling into the ground, save for the door. A cell.

He’s back in Magenta, locked and awaiting “salvation.”

But it’s worse, oh so much worse, because he can hear a door opening, can hear rough movement and a rougher “Stop that!” and horrible, soft, anguished weeping that makes his insides twist. And he knows, knows without a sliver of a doubt, that it’s Rika and her.

Several figures walk by, two of them, cloaked in black, half-marching, half-dragging a third while another stops in front of his door and throws back her hood, revealing long blond hair, painfully familiar green eyes, and once-gentle lips curved into a knife-like smile. “Hello again, V. Have you decided yet?”

He throws himself towards her without thought, hardly noticing the pain as his knees impact the hard ground and the bars dig into his shoulders when he reaches out, grasping for something. Anything. “Please, Rika. Don’t hurt her. Don’t drag her into this. Just let her go.” He knows he’s begging at this point but he’s beyond caring, beyond wondering what Rika or even Eunbyeol might think of his pathetic display. His dignity is hardly a price to pay for her being safe.

But of course the only response he gets is a snarl, the beautiful bright green eyes he once adored narrowed in rage. “I see. Well then, V, you leave me no choice. Guards? Proceed.”

The words alone send a shiver down his spine and he finds himself screaming, almost before Rika is done talking. “Eunbyeol? Eunbyeol!”

His cries are still not loud enough to drown out her screams: “No! NO! Please stop! V! V, make them stop! Please, save me!”

Rika offers him one, last, almost sad look before she turns her back and walks away, prim and proper, out of reach of his frantic, grasping hands, and then all he can do is screw his eyes shut and wish he can somehow do the same to his ears, so he doesn’t have to hear her calls. “Jihyun! Jihyun!”

How much longer can it—can she—last?

“Jihyun, love, wake up! JIHYUN!”

He jerks upright, trembling and nearly hyperventilating, to Eunbyeol’s dimly lit bedroom. The small light resting on her nightstand is on, casting a gentle yellow glow over the room, slowly overpowering the damp cell in his mind’s eye. Eunbyeol herself crouches beside him by the bed, brown eyes soft with concern that only seems to grow when he reaches for her, pulling her hard, desperately, into his shaking embrace. “Eunbyeol. You’re here,” is all he can manage.

“I’m here,” she agrees, her voice gentle, soothing unlike anything he has ever heard before, and coupled with the gentle stroke of her hand across his brow, brushing away the errant strands of hair, it is enough to tear the frayed remains of his self-control.

She says nothing as he cries, his face buried into her shoulder, only holds him tighter with soft, calming sounds and a warm presence that he has never known, not like this. Not this unwavering, unconditional support that at once feels so foreign and so natural, understanding and sweet and oh so much than he deserves.

Slowly, slowly his tears calm, leaving him drained, rocking gently back and forth in her arms as she hums an unfamiliar tune in his ear. After another moment, she pulls away, though still near enough that he can see the light reflecting in her eyes, rich and warm. “Feeling better?”

He manages a grunt, neither confirmation nor denial, and she nods, pressing the cup of water she keeps at her bedside into his hands. He takes it with still shaking fingers, notes her hands curling around his to keep it steady.

“A nightmare?” From the tone of her voice, she already knows the answer, but still she waits, endlessly patient for his own confirmation.

“Yes.” His confession is a whisper, a proof of his weakness, but again, she simply nods, taking the cup out of his hands and putting it down before gently tugging him back onto their bed. He lies down obediently, watching as she disentangles the sheets that were twisted in his panicked flailing, spreading the blanket oh so tenderly over them, and lies beside him, turned so that she curls around him, arms wrapped protectively across his chest.

“I had them too,” she says softly in his ear, and he almost starts at the words, but she sighs, a soft, bittersweet sound. “The number of nights I imagined what would have happened if Ray had been any more forceful, if Rika had been a little bit more determined… It’s inevitable, given what we’ve been through. It doesn’t make you any less of a person.”

He swallows, hard, around the lump in his throat. “I… I don’t…”

“I’m well, Jihyun. And so are you. And nothing is going to happen to you. To us.” She says the words with confidence, with a surety that he doesn’t feel. “All of that is over.” The bed creaks as she sits up, leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead, and then his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Eunbyeol.” The words feel right on his lips, and his body slowly relaxes, though he isn’t sure if it’s from the words or the warmth of her presence.

“I know,” she murmurs. “And no dream can change that.”

He nods, arranges himself to fall back asleep but…

“Don’t leave me.” The words, the plea, fall out of his mouth before he can think to stop them, hanging, small and pitiful, in the air between them, but she makes no move to pull away.

“I won’t,” she vows instead, an anchor in the maelstrom around him. “I’m not going anywhere, Jihyun.”

And she doesn’t.

[twxntrash]

The Moon is Beautiful, Isn’t It? Ch. 16

Honestly, Marigold reminded Peridot of Pearl a lot. Not only did she look like she could be her long lost twin or something (That is if you ignore the bright blonde hair, the darker skin and the snobbish attitude that Peridot already couldn’t stand). She had the same compulsive need for everything to be in order, that everything had its own place and that she herself needed to be the pinnacle of prim, proper and perfect.

At the same time, she was a lot like Peridots mother, too. In attitude, in presence. It was like if Pearl and Diane Diamante got together to have a bady.

That idea kind of made Peridot cringe.

After she had greeted Peridot and introduced herself, Marigold had wasted absolutely no time bringing her luggage to the guest room and claiming it as her temporary lodging as she stayed with Peridot. She’d spent a good portion of an hour inside that room, moving things around, laying out her own belongings and Peridot was sure that if she dared to peek into the room, it would have looked nothing like it had before. But, honestly, the student didn’t really want to step into this woman’s room, she had a feeling it would just have far too much yellow in it for her liking, anyways.

Knowing that she’d get an earful if she just up and left while this guest of hers was unpacking, Peridot just plopped herself on the couch and started playing on one of her handheld consoles to pass the time. She was so engrossed in her game that she hadn’t even heard Marigold leaving the room or walking down the halls, something that she normally would have noticed from the click-clack of her sharp heels. It was only when the shadow of Marigold was cast over her that Peridot was drawn from her trance and looked away from the screen to lock onto her focused gaze.

“If you would kindly put the game away, I’ll go over the house rules with you,” Marigold said as she crossed her arms over her chest, her stance a clear sign of asserting her dominance, to show to Peridot that she was in charge here, that she wouldn’t let anything slide by.

It looked like she’d learned how to imitate Peridot’s mother quite well form her time serving her. Peridot couldn’t help but almost feel a shiver run up her spine, feeling like she was under the scrutinizing gaze of her mother, not her mother’s assistant, almost. Marigold still had a long way to go before she matched the same ruthless intensity that her mother possessed.

Quietly, Peridot tucked her game onto the couch cushion beside her and straightened up in her seat to look up at Marigold, tucking her hands onto her lap as she waited quietly. She might as well be as well behaved right now as she could, no doubt Marigold would report anything and everything back to the Diamante matriarch if she didn’t act right during their very first meeting.

Marigold let out a quiet hum and nodded her head, “Yes, well, as I’m sure you know, this arrangement is because you’ve allowed your grades to slip. Not just that, but Miss Diamante has grown concerned that you’re not focusing on your studies and are rather getting involved in frivolities around town,” she began. Peridot wanted to roll her eyes. Yeah, her mother was ‘concerned’ alright, concerned for what sort of backlashes might hit her own reputation if Peridots own started to fall. She kept her mouth shut on that, however, and Marigold continued, “So, until your grades have improved and your mother is sure that they won’t fall again, I’ll be staying with you to ensure that happens.”

She pulled out a notepad and Peridot could see in small, neat handwriting a list was written down on it. The young woman cleared her voice before she began reading off of it.

“You are to be back here every night by eleven, unless you call me ahead of time and explain the circumstances pertaining to your tardiness,” she stated, glancing at Peridot, “that should keep you from wasting the night away with parties and the such. Not that I can see you being the type to go to them, but it never hurts to take precaution.” Peridot just shrugged, not finding it in her to confirm or refute the notion of her being a partying type. That was more of Amethysts thing, not hers.

The rules went on, Marigold reading from them like she was reading from a dictionary. Some were strict, some were average. It was clear that it was Peridot’s mother who wrote them, not Marigold herself. It just reeked of her mother.

She had to let Marigold know where she was going if she went somewhere other than home and school, had to let the woman know who she was with. Had to get the OK from Marigold first before she could even go anywhere other than school and home. No gaming unless all her schoolwork was done, no TV unless everything was done. It was made very clear, too, that her mother wanted her to limit her time with her ‘less than reputable friends’. Which basically meant that if she wanted to hang out with Amethyst she had to be sneaky about it. Her mother never really liked Amethyst, so it wasn’t a surprise. Peridot had to come straight home after school, too, if she’s staying in school for after school reasons, she has to call Marigold to let her know and let her know how long she will be.

Peridot was sure there were more rules to it than that, unsaid expectations on how Peridot was to act and behave while Marigold was here that she would surely be called out on if she didn’t meet said expectations.

It didn’t need to be said either that if Peridot failed to follow these rules that Marigold would be required to inform Diane Diamante, and that was something Peridot did not want happening.

She shuddered at the very thought.

Right now it appeared that all Peridot had to do was play by the rules and be on her best behavior. Work her ass off to raise her grades back up before the semester ended.

Swallowing hard, Peridot frowned as she glanced discretely at a calendar. Midterms would be coming up pretty soon. That should be more than enough time to bring everything back up to an A, right? Of course it was. She had plenty of time.

There wasn’t anything left to go over and Peridot excused herself to her room while Marigold took over the office to do the other half of her job as serving the Diamante CEO. Peridot let out a groan as she laid on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. This was going to be an awful few months, it truly was. She just hoped she could get her grades up quickly enough so she didn’t have to deal with Marigold.

Honestly, she couldn’t wait for Monday to come, then at least she could spend some time with Lapis.

Peridot felt a chill run up her spine. It was going to be hard keeping Lapis a secret from Marigold. The last thing she needed was her mother finding out that Peridot was dating her teacher. She would have to ask Lapis about it next time she saw her, ask if she had any ideas on how to keep themselves hidden from the world.

Thinking about Lapis… Peridot felt a goofy smile form on her face. Damn, she had it bad for that woman, didn’t she?

Time went by and soon enough Peridot was with Lapis once again. “Good morning,” Lapis whispered as she began peppering kisses along Peridot’s neck and cheek.

Lapis had told Peridot to meet her in the fine arts section of the school, the same area their class was in. As soon as they’d crossed paths, Lapis had pulled Peridot into one of the small, usually empty and unused office for the faculty that taught anything that wasn’t ‘educationally important’, AKA classes like art, drama and music. Teachers didn’t really use it, as seen by the dust that was on many of the shelves.

The teacher had pulled Peridot close, arms around her waist as she affectionately kissed every inch of Peridot’s face as she could. “You were taking so long, I was starting to get worried that your new babysitter gobbled you up,” she teased lightly.

Peridot rolled her eyes and gave Lapis a quick kiss on the lips, “I don’t think cannibalism is her thing, wouldn’t fit in with the image she’s trying to keep.”

The bluenette snorted and moved to sit on the desk. She quickly tugged Peridot up to rest in her lap as she encircled her arms around the blonde’s tiny waist and rested her chin on her fluffy hair, “Real talk, though. How did it go?” she asked, “You were pretty nervous when he parted, are things as bad as you thought they’d be”

Peridot let out a low groan as she hid her face in Lapis’ collarbone, “She’s trying real hard to act like my mother, and not in a good way.”

“Sounds bad.”

“You’ve no idea,” Peridot replied.

Glancing at the clock that hung in the dim room, Peridot saw that they still had a few minutes before class started. One of the benefits of coming to school earlier than most students bothered too. It gave her more time to be with Lapis without the prying eyes of the world.

She sank deeper into Lapis’ hold, trailing her fingers up and down the woman’s back. “Hey, Lapis, I’ve a question.”

“Hm?” Lapis hummed.

Cheeks heating up, Peridot struggled with her words for a moment, not sure how to ask. Not sure if she should ask. “It’s probably a stupid question,” she mumbled in embarrassment as she looked down, “But, um, how are we going to make this work?” she asked her.

Lapis pulled back and looked down at the blonde with a cocked brow and a confused expression, “What do you mean?”

She felt hot under Lapis’ gaze and refused to look up at her, “How are we going to do this, be together and make it work?” she asked her again, “We can’t exactly advertise to the world that we’re dating, and we can’t let anyone know we’re together.”

Arms moving to rest on her shoulder and the other on her cheek, Lapis nudged Peridots chin up so she looked at her, “The world doesn’t need to know we’re dating,” she answered as though it were simple. “The world doesn’t need to know of our private life. So all we have to do is not show off to the world who we’re dating,” she said and then quirked up a smile, “Might be hard, though. I want everyone to know that I’m dating the best girl out there.”

Face going red, Peridot hid it by pressing her head against Lapis’ shoulder, “Shut up,” she murmured, feeling her ears burning.

“It’s true, you’re the best girl out there.” Lapis adjusted her and began peppering her with kisses, “You’re the cutest, the prettiest, the smartest, the kindest, the list can go on and on.”

Completely red and a stammering mess, Peridot couldn’t form her words, not that it would have mattered because Lapis took that as her chance to claim Peridots lips for her own and the blonde just melted.

Eventually, she and Lapis parted ways so they could go to class. She must have looked happier as she sat in her desk that morning. Her face still slightly flushed from the little kissing session she’d shared with Lapis in private just minutes ago. Peridot had almost been late for class because of it, but, she really doubted Lapis would writer her a tardy slip wen the reason she was late was because of Lapis. Still, she shared a tiny laugh to herself as she thought of it. She could see Lapis writing her a detention slip or something to force her to stay after class just so they could spend time together without suspicion.

Though she had almost been late for class, Lapis certainly had been. She rushed into class after the bell rang, apologizing for arriving late and claiming that she’d been held up by something. She’d glanced at Peridot discretely as she said ‘something’ and it took an iron will for Peridot not to give her a smug look in return.

Honestly, it was kind of amazing that the two managed to go about class without making it obvious that something was going on between them. Lapis treated her just as she always had in class, and Peridot did her best not to stare at Lapis too much and to keep the dreamy look on her face to a minimum.

Still, she must have not hidden it too well, it must have been clear that something was different. During lunch (Peridot had chosen to eat in the lunch room today as Lapis had a teachers meeting with the other Fine Arts teachers during that time, and she didn’t want to risk the weight room to spend time with Jasper just yet) Amethyst had practically tackled her down and tugged her to a table with her and Pearl.

The expression Amethyst had, it was a knowing one and Peridot found herself afraid that her best friend had already figured out what was going on.

“Okay, P, what happened?” Amethyst asked, leaning forward and wearing a grin.

Putting her tray down on the table and did her best to look as though she was innocent, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said simply.

“Oh don’t give me that, you looked like you were on cloud nine all day.” Amethyst shook her head. “Did something happen with that crush you got? Did you ask them out and they said yes because who wouldn’t?”

“Amethyst,” Pearl scolded lightly as she patted the girl on the arm, “Really, you shouldn’t be invading her privacy like that.”

Amethyst shrugged and leaned back in her chair, “What? I just wanna know if something good has happened to my best friend, that’s all,” she defended herself and then turned to look at Peridot again, “So, has something good happened?” she asked with a toothy smile, ignoring Pears exasperated complaint.

Feeling the attention on her, Peridot ducked her head and shook her head ‘no’. “Nothing new, sorry to disappoint,” she said.

“Bullshit,” Amethyst laughed, “I know you better than that, Peri, come on, you can tell me,” no, she really couldn’t.

Thankfully, at least Pearl was on her side that day as she tugged Amethyst a way, her face holding that stern expression she always used when scolding someone. “Amethyst, leave her be. Let her tell us what’s going on when she wants to,” she said in a clipped tone, “It’s clearly not something bad if she’s appeared so happy by it, so just let her be.”

“Thank you, Pearl,” Peridot smiled, at least someone was on her side. “It’s really not something that big, I just don’t want to share what it is, that’s all.”

Amethyst crossed her arms over her chest and pouted, but didn’t press it any further. Instead she opted to chat with Pearl, talking about small things, the usual. Peridot smiled softly as she ate. Her phone buzzed and she had to keep herself from grinning like a dork lest her friends notice and question her about the nature of the text. She still kept a small smile as she read the text Lapis sent her.

Meet her after school? Yeah, she can do that. She’d just have to let Marigold know she was staying after school. Typing a quick reply, Peridot was looking forward to hanging out with Lapis later.