#annie got the live reaction to this

[vanoefucks]

he. gave me a tulip

[ccwpidsblog]

ISSANUTBBY | onyakopon

summary: you didn't really get the 'moaning and whimpering' epidemic.

pairing: pornstar!only x hyperfem!reader

content warning: country ony, male masturbation, degradation, rample fap, pervy onya, p hub link, idk how to tag

a/n: I was gonna gatekeep my favorite asmrist but for the sake of the fic i gave it up 😕

sighing as the uptenth tiktok about moaning audios from boyfriends, and being talked through it appeared on her for you page. these were just two things she's never experienced in her 21 years of living.

so she decided to do her own research.

boyfriend asmr did nothing but make her giggle, and she mildly liked the whimpering audios but it also makes her cringe. until she stumble upon 'issanutbaby' nose turned at the name but still she clicked and scrolled.

endless audios and a couple videos with lewd titles filled her computer screen, heat rising to her face eyes scanning the ridiculously large package and oily, dark skinned muscular chest that showcased on each thumbnail.

finally making up her mind on a video with a less vulgar title 'ramblefap livestream' the show began. watching the dark skinned lean back into his chair, music low in the background as he smirked at the camera, the sliver grilz on his canines peaking. face never showing just his two toned lips glossy lips, pink tongue, body and huge half hard package.

he wasnt talking yet, just rolling the thick blunt between his pretty hands, tounge lapping at the papers with a smirk. "wish that was you huh?" talking with deep low rasp with a hint of southern twang that made her toes curl and boy did she definitely did wish it was her. he sparked it up taking a long drag, the smoke illuminating his sexiness even more.

"there's this girl I always see." he started with a groan. "a lil' thing she is." chuckling as he took another hit of his wood.

" always running around campus like a chicken wit 'er head cut off. it's cute but girls like that don't usually go for niggas like me. usually so stuck and in their books and looking fora nerdy ass engineer."

his lips pouted slightly as he shakes his head, "y'all saying why not talk to her? shiii ion' even know why i ain't approached her sexy ass."

humming he blew the smoke up as his unoccupied hand went to palm his growing erection. "always walking around in them lacy dresses and bows."

"fuck. was watching her last Friday and she dropped one 'er glittery ass notebooks. saw of peek of her panties and." he freed his cock hard and proud from the opening of his underwear. spitting on his hand as he began the stroke his piece. "saw that fat ass pussy through her pink panties"

he grunted, wood in his mouth as he leaned back into his chair hips slightly bucking up into his hand. "ima pervert?" he sounded amused as he squeezed his two-toned tip causing it to leak sticky, clear precum.

"who really the pervert? i think y'all are perverts. watching me stroke my shit, waiting for me to buss all over myself."

he laughed, your panties began to feel slick as you watched the glistening brown cock twitch as he talked, he was leaking down onto the floor, and his heavy balls caused a loud smacking sound to fill your air pods. "Fuckin' brats ion' think y'all deserve this nut."

you jump out your skin as your roommate annie enters the room. she frowns at your reaction, dumping her bags on the ground. "the hell. . you watching porn or something?"

"no! what? why would you even say that." you squeak out, with wide eyes. watching her lip lift in amusement as she slowly stalks your way. "oh reallyyy lemme see your laptop."

standing to your feet you clench your laptop to your chest, practically hissing at the blonde who puts her hands up in defeat.

"you got it princess"

© CCWPIDS'BLOG2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly encouraged ꢾ꣒

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Lashing Out And Regretting It

Requested: heyya! love how you write the boys characters you got them so well just like how they are on the show. if its okay and if its a good idea, may i request an imagine with the boys and homelander and their reaction after they and reader got into an argument, getting to the point where they told reader some hurtful things and told reader to leave because they dont need reader or reader is nothing to them/is useless. they just say this because they’re angry but reader takes their word to heart and did just as they said. now they cant find reader or finding it hard to locate reader. could be platonic or familial. thank you! - anon

A/N: Screaming I love this!!! I live for the angst!!! I'm so sorry I've been so slow with requests my loves! I hope you can understand! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Requests are open! 🔮

Butcher embarrassed you in front of everyone. Yelling and screaming, calling you useless, all because Samer got away. You were a little too occupied with Kimiko and Frenchie to realize, opting to save your friend than chase after him. Both Kimiko and Frenchie were eager to come to your aid, but he shut them down. He got in your face and he humiliated you, said the team was better off without you. You left without a word, ignoring your friends who begged you to stay. You left your phone behind, knowing they'd call and text, apologizing for him. You were good at your job, the best even. You and Butcher have worked together a long time. This was your first mistake in a long time and he couldn't let it go. You were done. You packed a bag and disappeared. When they realized they couldn't reach you, they split up, looking at your apartment and usual hang outs. No one had seen you. Suddenly Butcher can feel his heart in his stomach. Regret spread through his chest. Everyone was pissed at him, but no one was angrier at him. He never should have done what he did. Now you were gone. Who knows when you'd show up again?

Hughie regrets it immediately. He said what he said because he was angry, and stupid, and awful. You left the night of the Tek Knight party. You were a Supe, a powerful one, but for whatever reasons, your abilities weren't what they used to be. You argued with him, saying he shouldn't go in alone. It came out before he realized, before he could take it back. Right now, he was more powerful than you were. What right did you have telling him what to do when you couldn't do your single job? The look on your face, the horror and hurt, it made him sick to his stomach. He tried to apologize, to explain, but you were done. You threw your hands up, wishing Hughie and the rest a safe mission, but you were done. M.M. assured him it was better to go through with it than run after you, so he did, but the whole time he's thinking about you. He doesn't find you at the office or apartment. You disappeared. They tried to track you, find you, but they hit wall after wall. You'd show up again, they all told him, you just needed time. He'd never felt so guilty in his life.

Annie didn't think you were trying hard enough. It didn't seem like you cared anymore. Not about the team, or taking down Homelander. You seemed like you were just going through the motions. She meant to just talk with you, but things escalated pretty quickly. As soon as she said the words, she knew she was in the wrong. You were becoming a liability to everyone involved. If you were done, burned out, then just say that. Leave. But if you wanted to be a part of this team, if you really cared, you'd stop being so useless. Truth was, you were tired. You were tired of everything. There was no name calling or fighting back. You didn't have it in you. You got up and you walked out, pushing past Butcher and the rest who were just walking in. Annie goes to follow you, but you just pick up your pace. She calls and texts, but you never answer. Everyone says to give you your space, but she can't let it go. She shows up at your place which is completely empty. It fills her with so much shame. She apologizes profusely, asking you to come back, but she never gets a response.

M.M. is reactive and angry and he knows what he's done is wrong immediately after. He's been in charge of this team and so far all you've been is negative. You've lost your faith in the team. He understands, he gets it, but for the sake of everyone involved, he needs you to look on the bright side. If there isn't one, he needs you to make one. He ends up blowing up at you while you're waiting for Hughie as Webweaver. You tell him, Annie, and Kimiko that you have a bad feeling about this, a terrible feeling, but it was too late to do anything. Hughie was already inside. He knows now is not the time nor place, but he loses it. If you can't have faith in the mission, in your teammates, then you shouldn't be here at all. Your attitude problems only hurt morality and it was worse than useless, it was dangerous. Annie and Kimiko try to de-escalate the situation, but you've made up your mind: you're done. You leave without a second thought, wishing them a safe mission. Because they're all occupied, no one can really do anything about it. After his panic attack, Marvin sees just how right you were, but when he calls it goes right to voicemail. When it seems like you disappeared, he does everything he can to track you down. You don't want to be found, though.

Frenchie fights with you after Samer gets away. It was the three of you that were in charge of him and you let him get away. You didn't have any fight left in you. It was your fault. He must've been working on the cuffs for weeks. You trusted him and you let Kimiko get hurt. You know that's the reason he's so upset: because he had to cut off her leg to save her. She could have died. You know what she means to him. And yet, he goes a little overboard. Everyone thinks so, yelling at him to stop when he's gone too far. You were useless. You let Samer get away, you let Kimiko get hurt, you failed at every single job you were given. He can see the look of hurt on your face and finally stops, the room left in a heavy silence. You grab your coat and you leave. There was no use in fighting with him, he was right. Annie and Hughie called after you, pleading with you to stay, but you waved them off, storming out. When they don't hear from you, they all start to worry. You sent a single text to Frenchie before turning off your phone. Tell Kimiko I'm sorry. Feeling guilty, he goes to your place. You're not there though, and neither are your immediate belongings: wallet, keys, phone, some clothes. He has to do something to fix this, to make things okay.

Kimiko is really hurt you turned yourself in alongside Frenchie. The guilt was eating you alive, all the things you've ever done. It was horrible. It was unforgivable. When you come back alongside Butcher, who insists you and Frenchie can replicate the virus, you can't stand to look at her. She wants to talk with you, to ask you why, and eventually, when you get a little alone time, she does. Of course she would understand, your upbringings were cruel, brutal, and it lead you down this road, but you couldn't move on. You couldn't forgive yourself. Kimiko was pissed. Did you really think it was that easy? Did you really think you were the only one eaten alive by guilt and shame and self-hatred? She was signing at you furiously, as close to yelling as she could get. You were so smart, so intelligent, and yet you were wasting your talents wanting to rot away in prison! If you were going to throw your talents away and hurt the team and hurt her and become a useless nobody, then what was stopping you? Certainly not her, not any of your friends. You don't have it in you to fight back. You don't have anything left in you, not anymore. She tries to get your attention when you leave, but you don't look back. When none of them hear from you, Kimiko begs The Boys to do everything they can to find you. Please, she has to make things right.

Bonus! Homelander cuts people out of life left and right. Still, you never thought he would turn on you. And yet, when you don't know who the snitch is, when you're not closer to pinpointing the culprit, he loses it. His eyes even heat up, though he catches himself, calming himself down. Firecracker interrupts his yelling, foolishly, but in the end it saves you from hearing anymore about how pathetic, useless, stupid you are. That you don't deserve to be a part of The Seven, you don't deserve to be a Supe at all. He goes off with her, believing it was Webweaver all along. You don't know how much time you have, but you know, in order to avoid his wrath, you have to leave right away. Get some space between you so that he can cool off, if he ever does. You took it as a pretty clear way of saying that you were out, you lost his trust. You weren't a friend anymore, you weren't anything anymore. Firecracker had saved the day. Again. When he comes back, covered in blood and no closer to finding the narc than he was before, he goes looking for you. He searches the entire city, but you've disappeared completely. Vanished.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 7: It's Not A Date

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy.

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), sexism, swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: This chapter is just a little bit smaller than the others and it's a little bit of a filler, but I promise that it is preparing for the coming angst!

Series Masterlist

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“I can’t believe you let him around those children. What were you thinking?” Annie asks wielding a curling iron like a sword. "He's a terrible influence!"

It was t-minus one hour and thirty minutes before the party started and Annie was doing your hair and makeup for the mission. Butcher decided that Ben and you would infiltrate and see if you could find anything suspicious inside, while Butcher, Frenchie, and Mm watched the streets outside the building.

Your chair was turned away from the scuffed vanity in Hughie's bedroom at the apartment the team shared. Why he had that you weren't sure, but you figured it must be for Annie. Her makeup bag, hair spray, gel, cream, curler, flat iron, and other paraphernalia was littering the soft butter colored top. There were more things sitting there than you knew the names of.

Annie had always been better at things like that than you. She'd done your hair and makeup for every high school dance and date you went on, so you'd agreed to let her do your hair and makeup for the mission. Not to mention you trusted her not to make you look too over the top or absolutely ridiculous.

As soon as she had gotten you into Hughie's bedroom she had practically pounced on you, demanding to know everything about the past few days that you had spent living in the apartment with Ben. You'd foolishly told her that you'd had to babysit the Wilson's children last night and she was horrified that you let them anywhere near him.

Granted you also would have had the same reaction if someone had told you that they had let Soldier Boy around little children.

But he wasn't terrible to them. You think to yourself. He was actually kind of sweet. It was the first time that you'd ever associate that word with Ben, but you believed that it was true. You remember how he sat with Marty at the kitchen table and allowed her to make a friendship bracelet for him. A bracelet, that he hadn't thrown away, despite what he'd told you after she gave it to him. You'd found it on the sink in the bathroom this morning when you got up, given a place of honor in the ceramic jewelry dish you used for your bracelets.

After Ben had gone out on his "date" you'd cleaned up, made your last cup of noodle, and then went to bed hoping to forget exactly what Ben was doing. The problem was that you were disappointed and you had no idea why. You'd tossed and turned thinking about Ben and the time you'd spent together watching the kids, until finally falling into an unsatisfying slumber.

Ben had sauntered through the front door at 3 am smelling like perfume and sweat, his hair tousled and standing up like someone had ran their fingers through it, while you were drinking a calming herbal tea from your favorite mug at the kitchen table in a post-nightmare haze. You'd had them your whole life following the accident that took the lives of your parents and was thankful that one hadn't hit when Ben was home. You didn't want to explain to him why you had woken up screaming and gasping for air just as you’d done since you were twelve years old.

When you'd first moved in to the apartment and you'd had the nightmare, Mike had banged against your front door, shouting for you to answer. He'd thought that someone was trying to kill you in the middle of the night, but you'd explained to him that you had nightmares and that you were okay.

The next time it happened, Mike's mother had left a large basket of herbal tea and homemade muffins outside the door of your apartment. Even though the muffins were almost inedible, it was incredibly sweet. You might not have wanted to date Mike, but he and his mother were some of the sweetest people you'd ever met.

When he saw you up, Ben had made a comment about you waiting up for him and stated that he was ready to go again if that's what you wanted, but you'd only waved your hand and rolled your eyes while taking another sip from the mug. You weren’t in the mood, not when you could still feel the chill of sweat against your skin and hear the sound of metal on concrete from the dream. He had sat at the table across from you and asked why you were still awake, you'd lied and told him that you couldn't sleep. You knew that he knew you were lying, but he only shrugged and went to take a shower while you finished your tea and fled to your bedroom to avoid him coming out in a towel again.

"He wouldn't leave. What was I supposed to do? Make him walk the plank?" You respond as Annie inserts the warm curling iron into your hair.

"He's just so-" She tugs your hair back as she curls it.

"It wasn't as bad as you think.” You consider thinking about how he let Martha make him a friendship bracelet and how he had held Joshua and made Joshua laugh. "He was actually kind of nice to Marty and to Josh.”

"Nice? Are you crazy! The guy's got a nuclear reactor in his chest and an uncontrollable temper. Why do you think it would be okay for him to be around children?”

"He didn't get angry or lose control. And I can't believe you're chastising me about this, the other day you were all for Ben and me sleeping together!"

"That wouldn't involve children." She takes another piece of your hair, gently wrapping it around the curling iron.

"Yeah, but it would still be him close to another human being-"

“He seems to be perfectly in control when he has sex. Or else there would be a string of destroyed apartments all over manhattan.”

"I can't believe you." You huff.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Have you guys kissed again?" She asks.

"I shouldn't have told you that." You grumble under your breath. "And can you keep your voice down? Ben can hear you."

He was in his old bedroom getting ready for the mission. The bedroom was exactly next to Annie and Hughie's bedroom, and you were sure that he was listening to Annie and you talk.

Because he can't keep his big nose out of anything. You think. Or rather can't keep his perfectly structured nose out of other people's business.

"I'm sure he has better things to do than listen to the two of us talk." Annie responds, but she begins to blast the ABBA gold album from her Bluetooth speaker, filling the room with the sound of 'Our Last Summer' "Come on-"

"Come on what?" You open one of your eyes to glare at her. "I told you it wasn't going to happen again."

"Why not?"

"You know why not. Ben is- Ben. And I don't want to waste my time with someone who's not interested in having a relationship." You shut your eye again to avoid her gaze.

"It's not a waste of time if he looks like that-" She trails off, inserting the curling iron one more time.

"I will agree that Ben is good-looking, but that's all he is. He doesn't care about other people, he only cares about himself and what feels good." You say it, but for the first time since you'd met Ben you weren't sure if it was true. Not after he spent his entire day yesterday helping you with the kids and not after he had bought you that bookshelf.

He cared enough to get that for you. A little voice whispers. But why? You wonder again. Why would he care about something as little as a bookshelf?

"You're making that face again." Annie says. "Did something happen?"

"No. I mean- he-" You sigh to yourself. "He keeps confusing me."

"How?"

"Well the other day he bought me a bookshelf."

"What? Why?"

"Because he said that stack of books in my bedroom was annoying him." You roll your eyes behind your eyelids.

"Why was he in your bedroom?" Annie's smirk is audible and you feel your cheeks heat.

"Shut up. He needed some clothes and I had some from the last time Darren stayed with me-"

Annie audibly groans when you mention your brother's name. They didn't get along. She thought that he was manipulative and that he used you. But you didn't see it. He was your brother, your blood, the only family you had left beside your grandmother and Annie.

"Please tell me he's not coming by soon. If he does I will be busy doing anything else."

"I don't know why the two of you can't just get along-" You sigh.

"Because he's the worst." Annie states loudly, dropping the curling iron and bringing the mascara brush up to your eyes.

"Can we please not have this conversation again?"

"Fine. Close." Annie holds up the mascara brush to your eyes. "Did you at least join one of those online dating apps or try to go on a date?"

"It’s been 3 days since we last talked about this-“ You feel the gentle stroke of the brush against your eyelashes.

“So?”

“No I haven’t.”

"Y/n-"

"I know, I know. I mean Jake did try to ask me out the other day but-"

"He WHAT?" Annie squeals, awkwardness about your brother forgotten. "Next time lead with that! Did you go out with him? Did you guys talk all night long?" Annie is hoping from foot to foot now, practically dancing to the music still blasting from the speaker on the dresser.

"I said no." You open your eyes to look at your friend.

"WHAT! Why?" She looks like you kicked a puppy. "He's so perfect for you! He likes plants and he's funny and he's got a great sense of humor, plus he's gorgeous and he's interested in you-"

"First he wanted to do something today and I knew Butcher had plans for me. Second, I didn't know he was asking me out, Ben told me he was." You close your eyes again so Annie can continue to do your makeup.

"Wait, Ben was there when he asked you out?" 

"We went to IKEA to get a couch for the apartment and Jake showed up and asked me out." You explain.

"You took Ben to IKEA?"

"He'd never gone there before, can you believe that?" It made you smile as you remembered how surprised he had been when you went inside. You’d had fun with him, walking around, testing out the couches, it almost felt… normal. And you kind of got the impression that Ben had a good time too. It was kind of cute when he did everyday things, when you saw him in normal settings and he was just a little bit awkward because he still couldn't figure out how to act in another time period.

"Yes I can, he's a million years old. Let's circle back to you saying no to the PERFECT man."

"He's not a million." You defend Ben. "And Jake's not perfect." You frown to yourself, thinking about the fact that Jake wasn't a supe. It wasn't something that you had cared about before, but ever since Ben brought up the idea of you "snapping Jake in half" it scared you.

Because what if I did? What if I hurt him? You didn’t know how Ben had sex so often with people who weren't supes. Maybe he just doesn't care if he does. Or maybe he’s done it so much that he’s able to control himself.

"What do you mean? I thought you liked him?"

"I mean I do. He's kind and he understands me and he loves plants as much as I do, but-" You shrug, feeling Annie begin to apply eyeliner. "I don't want to make things complicated. I mean we work together, he’s my boss. What if it doesn’t work out? Then I’d have to quit and I like my job.”

“I mean that’s kind of hot-“

“Hot in what? A sexual harassment kind of way?”

“No. It’s not harassment if it’s two consenting adults.”

“I’m still not sure that it’s a good idea.” You mutter more to yourself. But this time your mind didn’t go to Jake and you having a relationship even though he was your boss, instead it goes right to Ben. You can't help but slip into the fantasy of dating Ben, of you and him trying something new-

You shake off the image. He doesn’t want a relationship, doesn’t think that’s important. The thought is almost like a mantra, trying to convince yourself to push past Ben’s charm and good looks, but this time it makes you consider something else. Maybe he doesn’t think it’s important now, but maybe he used to think it was before Countess.

You’d heard the stories, seen the newspaper articles and clips of film of Ben and her together, remembered what Hughie said that Ben had wanted a family with her that Ben had told her that he loved her. That meant at some point in Ben’s life he had loved someone else, cared for them, wanted to be more than just fuck buddies.

Maybe he's just afraid to fall again, because he's not sure someone else will be there to catch him. Maybe Ben doesn't want to admit that he cares for anyone else because he's afraid that they'll push him away or stab him in the back the way that Countess did. And maybe he hides it all underneath the macho attitude.

Ben is strong. He told me that he didn't need anyone else. You press your lips together in a tight line. But I think he does.

You hated that she’d hurt him. You hated that she’d pushed him away, told him she never loved him, and stabbed him in the back. You couldn’t imagine doing that to someone, telling them that you loved them, and manipulating them with the promise of love. It almost made you nauseous to consider it. It made you want to travel back in time to the moment she stabbed him in the back and shove a bouquet of sunflowers up where the sun don't shine.

You pause on the thought. You weren't a terribly violent person, but if someone ever hurt your friends your anger was legendary, practically divine. You'd never thought that you'd want to do something for Ben, but you were realizing more and more that Ben was becoming your friend. You weren't sure how you felt about that.

“Alright what if he wasn’t your boss.” Annie gently brushes eyeshadow over your eyelids. “Then would you go out with him?”

“But he is my boss.”

“Use your imagination.”

The song has ended and there’s an awkward pause between the end of it and the slow beginning of the next one.

“I mean yes?” You shrug. “I can see myself with him. He’s the kind of person I’d want to date. He cares about other people, he remembers what kind of coffee I like, he actually contributes to the conversation, he makes me laugh, he actually gets my jokes, he’s nice to sit with, he doesn’t get under my skin-“ As you list each of those things you couldn't stop your mind from comparing Jake to Ben. You didn't know when Ben became the level by which you judged other men, but it had happened sometime in the past few days and you didn't know what it meant.

But Ben did remember what kind of coffee I like and he does contribute to conversations, well, he contributes with a disgusting comment… The thought trails off when you remember the small conversations that you'd had with Ben that weren't sexual in nature, when the two of you watched the movie on the couch and talked briefly about your parents, when Ben asked you how your day was the other day back at the apartment, and when the two of you talked on the couch while the children slept between the two of you. In those moments you had seen another side of Ben, the side that he seemed to hide away from everyone else, but not from you, not all the time.

Plus Ben is kind of funny sometimes, disgusting but funny. Doesn’t understand my jokes. And yes he gets under my skin but sometimes it’s kind of exciting and nice to have that happen. With Jake sometimes he’s just too happy or too eager to agree with me.

"Hmm." Annie considers. "How did Ben react when Jake asked you out?”

You don’t answer immediately. “Normal.”

"You hesitated"

"No I didn’t."

"Yes you did! He reacted didn’t he?!” Annie pokes you with her finger

"No he didn’t.” You lie.

“He did! Holy shit he was jealous wasn’t he?”

"No he wasn’t.” You swat her hand away. "He was just opinioned."

He sure looked jealous. You think to yourself remembering the way he glared at Jake from the other side of the room. The memory of the way his eyes darkened when he told you exactly why he wasn't jealous and exactly what he would do to you to make you forget all about Jake sends an involuntary shiver down your spine.

"Yeah. Opinionated over why you shouldn't go out with Jake because Ben wants you all to himself." Annie crows.

"Shut-"

"But it doesn't matter. Because Ben's going to have a heart attack when he sees you wearing this." Annie steps back from you. "My work here is done. Try to make it to the mission without ripping each other's clothes off."

"We are not going to-"

Annie spins your chair back to the mirror and your next words dry up.

Your hair is perfectly curled back from your face, the lipstick is a dark shade of crimson that makes your lips look fuller and more plump, the eye make up is dark and dusky making the color of your eyes pop against the darkness in a mysterious alluring way that seems almost hypnotic, and your face is shaded and contoured so well that you look dangerous and sexy.

"I'll take the silence as a 'Thank you Annie! You're so beautiful and talented and you're the best friend I've ever had!'" She laughs, standing back behind you with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I mean all of that is true, but-" You stand up from the chair to get a better look. "You've really outdone yourself."

"Well thank you. Had to. It's your first date with Ben." She makes goo-goo eyes and you try to punch her in the shoulder, but she dodges it.

"Shut up. It's not." You look down at the dress that Butcher picked out for you to wear. "I love you, but I hate Butcher."

The dress was a red scrap of fabric that clung to your curves, but left very little to the imagination. It was completely backless with an exaggerated wrinkle that fell just over the top of your ass. The front was sinched at the back of your neck secured only by a small piece of fabric that you were afraid would break at any moment and fell open in a "v" that stopped just under the swell of your breasts. There was a large prominent slit that cut up the left side of the floor length gown that stopped just shy of the top of your thigh. Annie had cinched a black choker around your neck to match the black pair of stilettos you wore

Personally, you though that the stilettos were overkill, you had no idea how the hell you were going to run after the supe if you saw him, let alone fight him.

"You look so hot." Annie says pleased. "You really should wear that all the time babe. I'd take you out to dinner just to show you off."

"You're the worst." You groan.

"I love you too honey." She winks. "Now come on. Butcher and the others are waiting for us." She turns off the speaker and walks out the door of the bedroom, but you linger there, looking at yourself in the mirror one more time.

You'd never worn anything remotely like this before, but even you had to admit, you looked good.

“Come on Poppet. You can’t hide in there forever.” Butcher chuckles from the living room.

He’s having too much fun with this. You huff to yourself finally leaving the bedroom to make your grand entrance, grabbing the black bejeweled clutch as you do.

Butcher, Frenchie, Annie, and Hughie are waiting outside the door while Kimiko sits on the couch scribbling away.

Hughie's mouth drops open,  Butcher gives an approving shrug, and Frenchie lets out a breath.

"You look beautiful." Frenchie takes your hand and gives you an appreciative twirl.

"Shut up." Your cheeks redden.

Hughie is still looking speechless at you. "I told you." Annie states elbowing him with a proud smile.

“You look-“ Hughie stutters.

“Good enough to eat.” Ben finishes, appearing in the hallway to your right. His hand traces the curve of your hip, thumb ghosting over your bare back.

“Just because I’m dressed like a hooker, doesn’t mean my brain’s not working.”  You slap his hand away ignoring the warm feeling that remains where he touched you. You could feel your heart beat begin to pick up in your chest.

“Baby I love your brain-“ Ben smiles, eyes tracing your figure. “But I’ll be damned if I don’t love your body more.”

You felt your cheeks turn the same shade as your dress with his compliment before you can stop them. It was difficult to pretend that you didn't feel any attraction for him, not when he looked so good.

He had trimmed his beard and brushed back his dark hair, so you could see his emerald colored eyes gleaming. He was wearing a black suit with a white button up shirt, but chose not to wear a black tie, instead unbuttoning the top few buttons to give just a hint of his muscular chest beneath.

Why does he have to look so good all the damn time?

“Shut up.” You grumble turning back to Butcher. “So are you happy? I dressed up, my IQ dropped a billion points.”

“Ecstatic poppet.” Butcher grins taking a sip from the cup of tea in his hand. “Now remember anything happens, you detain the supe, no killing."

“He’s talking to you.” You elbow Ben.

Ben shrugs. “I won't apologize for doing my job."

You sigh again and walk towards where Kimiko is writing in one of her workbooks on the couch. 

"You look hot." She signs at you.

It had been difficult to learn the sign language she used, but you liked to think that you had a handle on it so you could understand simple conversations. When things got too confusing she would use her phone.

"I know. I was mad at Butcher at first for picking this dress, but I kind of like it." You sign back. "Don’t tell Butcher I said that."

She crosses her fingers over her heart. "Soldier Boy is looking at you."

"He’s always looking at me. I'm glad I can't read minds. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking."

Kimiko snorts, raising her hand to sign "I think the look on his face says it all."

You half turn and look at where Ben is again, he’s not talking to Butcher like you thought he was, he’s staring at you, pupils dilated, eyes darkening in a way that makes your heart feel like it's beating so hard it'll explode out of your ribcage.

No. No. Keep it together. Heart of a warrior.

"You two have fun!" Annie smirks widely, taking a picture of Ben and you like you're going to prom and you know she's going to send the photo to taunt you with it later.

“Shall we?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Ladies first.” Ben smirks.

 You roll your eyes at him as you walk to the front door of the apartment. “Don’t pretend to be a gentleman Gramps. We both know you just want to look at my ass.”

“I’ll never get tired of looking Doll, especially not when you’re wearing something like that.”

A/N: I know this chapter is a little bit of a filler, but I wanted to give Annie and the reader some time together, aka. Annie telling the reader to do the one thing that we ALL know she should do. 😂

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

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@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry

[mrs-kmikaelson]

Our Song and Dance³

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: long, exploitation of minors, mentions of forced prostitution, suicidal thoughts, implied torture, violence, complicated relationships, complex mental health issues, and i involve finnick more in everything Words: 8.1K

Masterlist | Part 4

a/n: switching it up, so this part is from finnick's pov. it's basically mockingjay one, then i'll do one more part for mockingjay 2. ly guys!

Finnick Odair was not sure that love existed. Or, at least he wasn’t. He could barely remember what his parents looked like, let alone if they loved each other. But he had Mags; she proved to him that love existed because he loved her. It was the falling in love that he was unsure about.

And then he met Annie Cresta and it was like he suddenly understood. Yes, this was what the poets were talking about. This was love. 

But they couldn’t be together.

He was being sold off all the time, taking countless visits to the Capitol. He couldn’t endanger her like that, let her get involved in the fucked up world he lived in. So he didn’t. He loved her from afar, knowing they’d never really be together.

He thought it’d end there, but then one night, he saw you. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was all his own will, but he walked up to you. He’d seen you at these events before, back home, and on TV, but standing there so close to you, it was like it was just hitting him how beautiful you were.

You were a victor, too. But he realized just how alike you were when he watched as you left a hotel room, in the same state as him. After that, it was you who took a chance on him until he almost looked forward to coming to the Capitol, just to see you.

You weren’t Annie. You didn’t remind him of what poets had written. No, he couldn’t describe you or what you meant to him in just words. What he grew to feel for you over time wasn’t akin to anything he’d ever read. This was so much more than that.

He loved Annie, he always would, but being with you made him realize what it was like to be in love.

But he never told you this, never said any of it out loud out of fear that he’d lose you.

Now he lost you, anyway.

The doors to his hospital room opened. He knew it was Katniss, but he didn’t say anything, staring right at the ground in front of him.

If he looked hard enough, he could see your face.

“Finnick.”

He looked up from his feet, but still didn’t look at her. He already knew what she looked like, and it wasn’t much better than him.

She was mad at him. She’d barely spoken to him since they got to 13, but he knew that she couldn’t have been much more mad at him than he already was at himself.

His voice was quiet when he spoke. “I wanted to go back for them—for Peeta, and Johanna, and Y/N… but I- I couldn’t move.” He twiddled his fingers with the rope in his hands, wishing it was your hand he was holding, but he wasn’t. You weren’t there. He left you.

He finally looked up at Katniss. She looked both emotionless and so emotional at the same time, lifeless but alive. “I- I love her, y’know?” He looked back down at the knot he was tying, sniffling involuntarily.

He was trying to keep it together, but without you, that was like trying to fix a broken glass without any glue. 

You were the glue that held him together.

And now the Capitol had you.

The words left his lips without much thought. “I wish she was dead.” He chose to stare at a spot on the ground instead of looking at Katniss’ reaction. His chest tightened. “I wish they were all dead and we were, too.”

If they had died, then at least they wouldn’t have been going through this, having to live but feeling so dead, anyway.

Katniss was silent until he eventually heard her leave the room.

There were words she didn’t say that still floated around the room, agreement that she didn’t voice. She was just as broken as him, holding on for dear life. He hoped that she’d keep holding on.

He had to have hope. He had to have hope that he’d see you again, that this wasn’t all for nothing, that they could build a better world that you could both live in. He needed to hope.

That hope was the only thing that kept him holding on, too.

He was in the cafeteria, sitting next to Katniss and Annie when it happened. The fanfare started playing, Caesar Flickerman’s face coming to the screen. He scoffed, tuning out and looking back down at the food on his plate, swishing it around. Recently, it had been hard for him to work up an appetite.

He looked back up when Katniss grabbed his hand, hers trembling. He soon realized why.

It was Peeta, on the Capitol TV.

Katniss got up, walking to the TV and standing right in front of it, shocked. He would’ve gotten up and followed her, tried to console her, but it was as if he was paralyzed.

Peeta was on the TV.

And you were nowhere in sight.

He heard the conversation that had everyone on the edge of their seat through muffled ears. Peeta didn’t look exactly like himself, but he still looked like the golden boy Panem fell in love with. It was so obvious that the Capitol was using him, playing him like a puppet, but what confused him was that they were using him and not the much more powerful weapon they had in their arsenal.

You were the Princess of Panem. Plutarch and Coin knew that; that’s why they wanted you. Katniss could light a fire, but if they also had you, then together you could cause an explosion. If the Capitol wanted to sway public opinion, why wouldn’t they just use you, someone who the people trusted and adored?

Suddenly, his stomach fell.

If they weren’t using you, then it was because you weren’t in a condition to be shown to the public.

He felt a hand on his, turning his head to see it was Annie, looking at him with a sympathetic expression. As if she could hear his thoughts, the smallest of sad smiles grew on her lips.  “It’s gonna be okay, Finnick,” she whispered. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

How the tables had turned. Now it was her assuring him.

In that moment, he understood Annie like never before.

Because he wasn’t so sure she was right.

After Peeta’s interview, Finnick didn’t leave his room much. He’d lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, pretending that you were there with him. He could withstand the silence if he had you by his side.

But now, the silence was deafening.

Sometimes, he didn’t hear a thing. Other times, your voice would fill the gaps, memories of you flashing before his eyes like a movie. Sometimes, they weren’t memories at all. Sometimes, he imagined a different life for you where you were both happy, in love.

And, sometimes, he imagined what they could’ve been doing to you in the Capitol.

Whenever these awake-nightmares got too vivid, he’d find Katniss and sit with her, knowing she must have been going through the same thing. It was what you would’ve done, what you did with him and Johanna.

You wouldn’t have wanted them to suffer alone.

The next time he was around everyone else, it was per Coin’s request. She announced to them all that Katniss agreed to be The Mockingjay and that, in return, she’d look for an opportunity to extract you, the victors that had been taken.

Katniss moved next to him. “Finnick, I made the deal for Y/N, too.”

It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Hope—this was hope.

“Good,” he said. For the first time since he left the arena, he smiled. “That’s good, Katniss.” A small chuckle left him.

Maybe he’d get a chance to make those dreams of his a reality.

With a newfound ardour, Finnick threw himself back into the ring instead of avoiding the fight like he had been, sitting in on meetings and doing whatever he could to make this work. He would see you again; he’d make sure of it. 

He went with the propo team to 8, watching as the Girl on Fire did exactly what they’d all been waiting for her to do. He wasn’t the only one that was hopeful—so were people in the districts, the people in 13.

They played her propo at the next assembly. The crowd cheered, but as he stood with The Mockingjay herself on the sidelines, she didn’t look so cheerful. Finnick understood this, he understood it well, but he couldn’t afford to think like that with your life hanging in the balance.

She shouldn’t have to either, he thought.

He leaned closer to her, quizzing, “You don’t like hearing a fight song at a funeral, huh?” She looked up at him almost in the same way she did when he made that joke in the arena. At the memory of your response, a small smile arose on his face. “The more people on our side, the closer we are to Peeta and Y/N,” he reminded her.

She nodded, muttering, “Yeah,” and then turning back to the crowd. She didn’t look so convinced, but he left it there, knowing she was coping with this in her own way.

If Katniss loved Peeta even half as much as he loved you, then he’d let her do whatever she felt comfortable with.

But at the end of the day, it was love that kept them both going.

The next time Peeta was on TV, it was a wake up call for everyone. He didn’t look so refined anymore, so clean. There were bags under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept or eaten in days.

If this was what Peeta looked like and they still had him on TV, then what about you? 

A bile rose in his throat. He ran to the nearest trash can and threw up whatever they served that morning for breakfast, your face flashing underneath his eyelids. You weren’t smiling like in the dreams he had, but screaming.

He knew you weren’t dead, that the Capitol wouldn’t kill you, but when he pictured your face, you didn’t look so alive.

Oh, he wished he could’ve made you smile more. But in the world you lived in, sometimes it was too hard to even do that.

That’s why we’re doing this, he reminded himself. We’re trying to build a better world. But there were no words that Coin could say to shake the guilt he felt, guilt for leaving you, guilt for being the reason this happened to you. There was no band-aid he could put over this wound, no pills that could kill this pain.

But he had to push through it, and he couldn’t do that by sitting in his room by himself; every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. So he went to Katniss’ room, finding her in a position so similar to his own.

That was the man she loved on TV, even if she hadn’t come to terms with her feelings. She must have been just as guilty as him, if not more so. Finnick could remember a time when he rejected his feelings for you, too, scared of caring for somebody, scared of this happening.

He went through the Hunger Games and the Quarter Quell, being sold when he was only sixteen, but falling in love with you was the scariest thing he’d ever experienced.

If that’s how Katniss felt, then he didn’t want her to be alone, not when she reminded him so much of you.

So he sat next to her in silence, letting all of the words he wanted to say hang in the air, hoping that she heard them. They sat there wordlessly until Gale came in, telling them it was time to go, that they were going to 12.

It was only when he was about to leave that he finally spoke, deciding that these were words he had to make sure that she heard, words that he needed to hear, too.

“We’re gonna get them back, Katniss.” 

She looked at him, forming somewhat of a smile and nodding. After staring at her for a few seconds, he left the room, going to get ready.

She didn’t know it, but the entire hovercraft ride on the way to 12, he repeated those same exact words to himself over and over again.

We’re gonna get them back.

While nothing could really ease Finnick’s worries, seeing the people fight back certainly helped. The revolution was picking up traction. The videos they shot in 12 had moved people so much that they were willing to put themselves at risk, just out of hope for a better Panem.

If they could do that, then he could, too.

He wondered if you knew about any of this, if you were even aware of what was happening or if the Capitol was just keeping you in the dark. Did you know? Did you hear Katniss sing?

Did it remind you of him the same way it reminded him of you?

He had so many questions, and so little answers.

Rebels in district 5 bombed a hydroelectric dam, cutting power in the Capitol. Not long after, Peeta Mellark was back on TV, talking about it. He no longer even looked like himself. He didn’t look like a victor, but like someone who had lost.

But Finnick supposed that was what a victor was.

Beetee managed to get through the Capitol’s firewall, cutting Peeta off with Katniss’ propo. They watched as tears filled his eyes on screen.

That was the first time he looked like himself.

Are you, are you comin’ to the tree?

He faltered. “Katniss?”

Finnick watched as Katniss got closer to the screen, shaking her head. She saw it, too. She saw the man that went into that arena with them.

But then, like a victor would, his mask went back up so quickly. 

“The attack on the dam was a callous and inhuman act of destruction-”

Where a dead man called out for his love to flee.

Peeta inhaled shakily, his lips so slightly quivering. “Think about it,” he said. “How will this end? What will be left?” Finnick walked closer to the screen, like he was caught in a trance. Peeta’s previously calm façade had broken and was replaced with someone who looked stricken by panic. “No one can survive this. No one is safe now. Not here in the Capitol.” He shook his head. “Not in any of the districts.” 

He stopped, looking right into the camera as if he was staring into Katniss’ eyes. He may not have known it, but he was.

“They’re coming, Katniss. They’re gonna kill everyone.” They heard quick footsteps behind the camera as Peeta rushed to get his words out. “And in district 13 you’ll be dead by morning-”

Then the camera cut out.

Finnick didn’t know what to say, glancing over at Katniss to see her cupping her mouth in shock.

Haymitch was much more calm. With Katniss spinning out, he had to be. “He’s warning us. That was a warning.” Behind him, Boggs said something in agreement.

Katniss looked to have gotten over her shock, frantically turning and fretting, “We have to get him out before they kill him.” She was ignored.

What about you? he wondered. Where did this leave you? But right now, what they needed to worry about was where it left them.

Otherwise, you wouldn’t have anything to come home to.

“It’s time for an air raid drill.” Seconds after Coin spoke, an alarm went off. Everyone that’d been fixed to their spot in the room was up, like they’d been preparing for this for a lifetime, and from what he heard, they had been.

Katniss went running, searching for her sister while he went looking for Annie and Mags, grabbing them and descending down the stairwell as soon as he saw them. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, his mind blank, just as it was in the arena.

If he let his thoughts take control, then he’d lose it, and he couldn’t do that right now. He couldn’t slip up right now with what was at stake.

It was your life on the line.

He couldn’t lose you.

But a part of him knew that, the second you were in Snow’s hands, the you that he knew was lost forever.

Down in the bunker, Finnick sat on the bottom bunk with Mags off resting by herself while Annie had fallen asleep at the top. Sometimes, with her episodes, it was easy to forget that she was a victor, too, that she had danced the same dance you had. But she was, and she was dancing like never before.

He could tell that she had been trying hard to keep it together, but with all of the panic and the noise, it was hard. She fell asleep easily. 

Although the bunker was pretty quiet, his thoughts were still so loud. The last time he saw you played out in his head. He could still taste your lips on his, still feel your soft skin, still see your beautiful eyes.

I’ll see you at midnight?

Yeah, I’ll see you at midnight.

But he didn’t. He never saw you again. He would’ve never let you go if he’d known then what’d happen. He would’ve held you longer, kissed you longer. He would’ve told you he loved you.

If he’d known this’d happen, he would’ve told you long before The Games. The truth was, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he fell in love with you. It had always been Annie for him, and you were just there.

But that was exactly it. You were there. You were always there. 

Maybe he started falling for you after the first time you slept together. Maybe it was after your fifth time mentoring together. Maybe it was after the time he had a nightmare and you let him hold you. Maybe it was after you smiled, and really smiled, for the first time since you decided to start pretending to be a couple. He couldn’t be sure, but somewhere along the way, you became so much more to him than just Y/N Y/L/N, Princess of Panem and victor of the 67th Hunger Games.

You became the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

He just wished he could’ve told you that.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when someone walked up to him. “Hey.” He looked up, seeing Katniss. She looked beat, her voice quiet. “Can I sit?”

He nodded, moving over so she could sit next to him. She had her family down here, that’s why he hadn’t gone over to her, but he understood why she was coming to him. After going through what they went through, it was easier to be around people who went through the same thing, who were going through the same thing.

Like she was reading his mind, she asked, “Are you thinking about her?”

There wasn’t any need for further explanation. Truthfully, he answered, “Yeah,” looking down at the ground. Every moment he had that wasn’t dedicated to this revolution was spent thinking about you.

After a second, she spoke up again. “Snow’s using her to punish you. He’s taunting us with them.” She scoffed a little. “I didn’t understand that until just now watching that stupid cat.”

She was right. This wasn’t just about propaganda. This was about Snow’s little puppets misbehaving.

So now he was showing them that, even in 13, he still owned them. He still owned Finnick. He still owned Katniss. He still owned Johanna. He still owned Peeta. And he still owned you.

He was using you against him because he knew how much you meant to him, the same way he knew how much Peeta meant to Katniss, even if she didn’t see that herself.

Finnick sighed, debating on whether or not he should say what he was thinking or keep it to himself before deciding that he had held enough in, that holding his thoughts in had never done him any good. So he turned to Katniss and started, “I- Y/N and I, we hadn’t met until after she won her Games. We weren’t really friends, at first, but rumours start fast in the Capitol, especially when ‘royalty’ is involved.” He humourlessly chuckled. “People were saying that we were dating, and so she- she thought the best thing for us to do was to let them believe it, let them have their love story. The alternative, two people coping together- that was a lot darker than what the Capitol could handle.”

She tilted her head, furrowing her brows. He watched as she put it all together. “Wait, are you saying that…”

He nodded. “Yes. It was fake. Our love story was just that: a story.” Surprise was painted all over her face.

“But… you told me that you love her.”

A ghost of a smile came to his face. “I do. I love her. It wasn’t like that at first, but over time, I fell for her, Katniss.” He saw a look pass over her face: understanding. What he was describing wasn’t just you and him; it was her and Peeta. “Y/N and I, we learned how to play the game. If anyone could spot a fake relationship, it was us. After your first Games, we thought your whole romance was an act. We expected you to continue that strategy. But it wasn’t until Peeta’s heart stopped and he nearly died that… I knew I’d misjudged you. You love him.”

Katniss looked away, like what he was saying was something she’d never even considered. It was so clear to everyone that she loved him, everyone but herself.

“I’m not saying in what way,” he added, understanding her feelings so well because he’d right where she was. “Maybe you don’t even know yourself. But anyone paying attention can see it.” He maintained his stare, even as she looked away.

With the life they lived, you didn’t want to give yourself to love, to admit that to yourself, to allow yourself to be vulnerable. But you could only hide a love so strong for so long.

She swallowed, gaze still aimed at the floor. “How do you live with it?”

You’re asking the wrong person, he thought, but that wasn’t an acceptable answer. That wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Right now, Katniss was lost; he needed to point her in the right direction.

Even if he still had trouble doing that for himself.

He paused for a moment, searching for the right words to say. “I drag myself outta nightmares and there’s no relief in waking up,” he confessed. “But I- sometimes, when I’m awake, I let myself dream about her.” Finally, she looked over to him. “I dream that, one day, when this is all over, we’re living in a better world, happy.” The corners of his lips quirked up at the thought. “It’s hope, Katniss. That’s how I live with it.”

Katniss eyes were dull, red, tired, but even in the darkness of the bunker, he was able to see a tiny spark light up in her eyes.

Hope.

They’d fallen asleep in the bunker along with everyone else until Finnick woke up to Boggs shaking him, telling him that they had to go. Coin wanted Katniss to get in front of the camera, tell Panem that they were still standing after the attack.

But, as soon as they stepped outside, he watched her fall apart.

Roses.

A rose?

They’re a Capitol favourite.

You hated roses. Looking at them himself, he couldn’t even blame Katniss. He felt sick, too.

She couldn’t do it. She was almost hysterical, so of course Boggs let her go. They couldn’t put her on TV when she was like this. But they also didn’t have time to wait.

With Katniss gone, Haymitch and Boggs pulled him aside to a briefing room, getting started on a new plan.

“Okay, what are we doing?”

They gave each other a look, much like the look Plutarch and Haymitch traded right after the Quell, like they knew something he didn’t, like they were getting ready for him to explode.

“Finnick, the dam that went down in district 5 cut power in most of the Capitol,” Haymitch started. “Their defences are down—Beetee’s gonna be able to get in now.”

His brows furrowed. He already knew that. 

Sensing his confusion, Boggs cut in, “We’ve gotten word that the victors are in the Tribute Centre.”

Suddenly, it was like his heart stopped.

You were coming home.

He echoed his thoughts. “You’re going to get them?”

“Yes, I’ll be leading the mission-”

“Well, I’m coming.” Again, they both shared a look, like they were expecting him to say that, and why wouldn’t they? You were his girlfriend; of course, he wanted to be there to save you. 

“Finnick-”

He cut Boggs off a second time, repeating himself, “I am coming with you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

He scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Finnick-”

“If you’re going to get Y/N, then I’m coming with you-”

“You are too valuable to this revolution for them to let you go,” Haymitch said, but Finnick really couldn’t give a damn about whatever reason they threw at him. You were all he could think about.

“I’m not just gonna sit here and do nothing while they’re being rescued,” he retaliated. For over a month, sitting around and doing nothing was practically all he’d been doing, fantasizing about you, unknowing of when he’d see you again or if he’d ever see you again, trying to imagine what you could’ve been going through.

He couldn’t just stand by while you were in a live or die situation.

If you died- no, he cut his thoughts off, refusing to finish the sentence.

You couldn’t die.

Haymitch sighed, glancing away before looking back at him. His eyes were always hard, but at that moment, Finnick saw flashes of sympathy. “You won’t be doing nothing.”

His eyes slightly narrowed. “What do you mean?”

The two shared another look before he told him, “Katniss can’t record right now. But you can.”

Another scoff left his lips, an incredulous look on his face as his voice was laced with sarcasm. “You want me to film a propo while you save Y/N?”

Haymitch didn’t respond right away, just staring at him like he was trying to properly articulate his words. The way he was looking at him unnerved him, like whatever he was gonna say could shatter him into a million pieces.

“Not a propo, Finnick,” he finally said, hesitation evident in his tone. “It’s a lot more than that.”

And, as Haymitch explained to him what they wanted him to do, Finnick learned just how much more that was.

Finnick Odair. That was a name synonymous with royalty, luxury, desire. Before he even met you, that was the name he’d built for himself—or, rather, the name that was thrusted into his arms.

A sex symbol.

When you won your Games, he could remember listening to the Capitol chatter. Stunning, refined, intelligent: a princess. You both already had so much in common, both from the same district, both so young when you won, but suddenly, as he watched you leave that hotel room that night in the Capitol, he realized that you had much more in common than he thought.

You were one and the same.

Those nights you spent together in the Capitol, out in the cold, you were silent. And then, even as you spoke to big Capitol fishes and gave speeches, you were still silent then, too, never speaking out about the injustices you’d been faced with.

Now, Finnick stood outside in the darkness, cold, but this time, you weren’t next to him. You weren’t next to him, and that was because Snow took you.

So he wasn’t going to stay silent anymore.

You deserved better than that.

He glanced around, almost as if he was trying to tell if his surroundings were real, if he was really doing this. 

He looked back when Cressida called his name, a careful look on her face. “Yeah,” he said, conveying he was okay without saying it, even if he really wasn’t. 

She didn’t look very convinced, but she still responded, “Okay.” She paused. “Take your time. Just remember to keep talking and don’t stop.”

He lightly nodded, looking up in front of him, seeing his breath in the air. For a moment, he was silent, but that moment didn’t last long. 

He had been silent for far too long already.

“This is Finnick Odair. Winner of the 65th Hunger Games,” he introduced himself, even though he knew that anyone watching must have recognized him right away. “And I’m coming to you from district 13, alive and well. We’ve survived an assault from the Capitol,” he recited. “But I’m not here to give you recent news.”

What he was going to tell them was much more than news about this rebellion. What he would reveal was about a war that’d started long before this rebellion ever did.

“I come with something much more valuable.”

I haven’t dealt in anything as common as money in years.

Well, then how do people pay for the pleasure of your company?

“The truth. The truth about being a victor, about being royalty.” Bitterness seeped through his tone. “Not the myths about a life of luxury. Not the lie about glory for your homeland.” He looked straight at the camera. “You can survive the arena. But the moment you leave, you’re a slave.”

We will never be free, Y/N.

He took in a breath before he spoke his next words, knowing that they held power stronger than a weapon. He may as well have been pointing the gun at his own head. But if he had to get burned to burn down the Capitol, then he would do it. He would do it a thousand times over.

And so would you.

“President Snow used to sell me. Or my body, at least. I wasn’t the only one.” Your face flashed in his mind. “If a victor is considered desirable, the President gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” Johanna.

It’s not fair. He killed her family. She said no, and he killed her family.

I know. It’s not fair, I know.

It was never fair. No riches or glory could ever be enough to compensate for that.

“To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry. But I found a much more valuable form of payment.” The corners of his lips upturned slightly to form a small, humourless smile. “Secrets.”

The secrets he knew had the power to rip apart the Capitol’s so called “peace” at the seams. For him, for Katniss, for Johanna, for Peeta, for Annie, for you—this peace had fallen apart ages ago.

Katniss was forced to become the voice of thousands when she could barely do that for herself. Johanna turned to rage. Peeta turned to charm. Annie lost her mind. And you… what about you? 

It was about time that this peace was destroyed. It was about time that people understood exactly what victors really lost. And that Panem’s monsters weren’t hiding under the bed.

They were sitting on thrones.

“See, I know all the depravity, the deceit, and the cruelty of the Capitol’s pampered elite. But the biggest secrets are about our good President, Coriolanus Snow.” The biggest monster of them all. “Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you may ask, did he do it?” He paused, looking right at the camera as if he was looking right into Snow’s eyes.

He hoped he was watching.

He hoped he was watching as they burned the Capitol to the ground.

“One word.” He lit the match. “Poison.” And then he dropped it.

“He stopped every mutiny before it even started. There are so many mysterious deaths to adversaries. Even to allies who were threats.” He could remember being at one of those dinners, watching a man fall onto his plate, his life over so quickly.

Once you were on the playing board, it didn’t matter how powerful you were. To Snow, you were all just pawns that he could knock off the board easily.

Not anymore.

“Snow would drink from the same cup to deflect suspicion. But… antidotes don’t always work, which is why he wears roses that reek of perfume. Help cover the scent of blood from sores in his mouth that will never heal.”

When Finnick learned this, he could remember the feeling he had, the satisfaction in knowing that a man who had spilled so much blood was bleeding himself. It was karmic.

How ironic was that?

“But he can’t hide the scent of who he really is,” he continued, remembering Cressida’s words. Don’t stop. “He kills without mercy. He rules with deception and fear. His weapon of choice is the only thing suited to such a man. Poison.” He scoffed. 

“The perfect weapon for a snake.”

Moments after Finnick’s last words, they were off the air. Cressida’s hand went to her ear, a dark look passing over her face. The Capitol air defence system’s coming back online, she said, and she didn’t get to say much else before he went running inside.

Much like every other day he’d spent in 13, your face came to his mind, but this time was different. This time, they went in to save you.

What if they couldn’t?

No, they had to bring you back- they had to.

He ran and ran until he got to ops, seeing Katniss crying in Haymitch’s arms. As soon as she saw him, she latched onto him and he reciprocated her hug tightly. He had to hold on. He had to.

He wouldn’t survive the fall if he let go.

He knows, he knows they’re in the Tribute Centre, she cried, and then for the second time that day, his heart stopped. He knew. Snow knew about the rescue mission.

His ears rang, eyes going blurry. And then things got a little blurry after that, too. Eventually, he ended up back in his room by himself. He didn’t know how he got there, but he did. All he could hear was your voices in his head.

No, you are coming home-

Finni-

We are both coming come. We are both coming home, Y/N, I swear.

He was supposed to protect you. He promised. He promised you that you would both make it home. But now where were you? You weren’t with him.

You never came home.

At one point, Annie came in, trying to be of some consolation, but she ended up leaving, unable to get through to him. He couldn’t hear her over your conversations that replayed in his head on a loop.

I told you. I’m not letting you die.

A tear raced down his cheek. He knew that you were maybe still alive, that you still had a chance, but that didn’t matter. It was never supposed to get to this point. He was never supposed to let it get to this point, a point where you could be dead.

He was supposed to bring you home.

Yeah, I’ll see you at midnight.

The doors suddenly slid open and Katniss walked in, breaking him out of his spell. He wiped the tears that’d fallen, clearing his throat. “Is there any news?”

Solemnly, she shook her head. “No.” He sighed as she sat down next to him, a big exhale leaving her lips, too. Both of them had passed the point of exhaustion, but it wasn’t like they could rest. Finnick wasn’t sure that he could sleep if he tried.

With this song playing so loudly, how could he?

Katniss was dancing the same dance as him, fighting the same battles. The man she loved was out there, too. She must have been just as scared as him.

They sat in silence for a while until she broke it, her voice raspy and just above a whisper. “Finnick?”

He turned to see her looking down at the ground. “Yeah?”

“I-” she stammered. It was only when she looked up at him that he saw the look in her eyes and knew why she was so nervous.

He shook his head. “It’s fine-”

She scoffed. “No, it’s not- it’s not fine-”

“Katniss-”

She cut him off. “I’m sorry.” Her words made him swallow. He knew she was going to speak them, but for some reason, hearing them was so different, surreal. She exhaled again, maintaining eye contact. “I am sorry.”

Finnick looked away. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate her apology, but he felt uncomfortable, looking into her eyes and just seeing the pure sorrow, pity. No, Katniss hadn’t been through exactly what he had, but at that moment, looking into her eyes was like looking into a mirror.

He couldn’t handle that right now, not when he stood at the top of the tallest mountain in the world and had such a long way to fall, everything to lose. 

He nodded, accepting her apology without words. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know, she didn’t know him back then. She hadn’t been a victor long enough to know yet. If anything, he was glad that she didn’t get to know their world, that she wasn’t sucked up by the same darkness that took you and him.

He was glad that her and Peeta got time in the sun, even if it was only for a little while.

“Y/N…” At the sound of your name, he turned back to her, seeing her brows furrow, eyes glazed over. “When I met her, she said something to me.” Realization flashed across her face as she looked up. “Was- was she-”

He cut her off, “Yeah. Yeah, she was.” When he blinked, he saw you walking out of that hotel room, the look on your face. He’d never forget the way you looked at him that night.

May the odds be ever in your favour, darling.

“There were more,” he admitted. “Any victor that the Capitol found desirable was taken. Annie only couldn’t because of her madness. Johanna-” a humourless chuckle left his lips. “Johanna refused, and her entire family paid the price.” He look back to Katniss to see that her mouth had fallen open, a look of horror on her face. “You and Peeta were spared because you were together. Hell, that’s the reason Y/N and I got together, to escape all this. And now look where we are.”

With you on the verge of dying and Finnick on the verge of losing everything.

You. You were his everything.

And you didn’t even know it.

“I never told her, Katniss.” He was breathless, like the wind had been knocked out of him. He’d realized this before, knew that he made a mistake, but now it was like he was realizing that he may never get the chance to correct it. “I- I never told her I loved her.”

I’m your girlfriend now?

Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t be serious right now.

I am so serious right now.

You had no idea. You had no idea that you were the reason he kept living, that you were the reason he kept going, even when it hurt so badly. He’d walk through Hell if he could get to Heaven and be with you.

But what if you never knew that?

What if you died without knowing how he felt about you?

Katniss grabbed onto his hand. He looked to see tears welling in her eyes. “You will,” she whispered. “Hope, Finnick. You need to have hope.”

“Hope,” he echoed. Just like how he saw your face, he was able to see a future just as easily. It was so clear. That better world that Coin went on about, the better world that they were fighting for… it was just within their grasp. He nodded, managing to form somewhat of a smile. “Hope.”

He needed that, now more than ever. If he ever wanted to make it to that better world, to live in it with you, then he had to have hope—hope for the both of you.

Katniss didn’t say much after that; neither did he. Both of them were reflecting on their own, still trying to process all the turmoil that the day had caused. He spent his time thinking of you, imagining that better world.

In a better world, you and Finnick would’ve never been sold. You would’ve met, and he would’ve gotten the chance to fall in love with you the right way. He wouldn’t have been so scared to tell you. You would’ve given back to the community, not taken kids to their deaths.

You would’ve been so happy together.

But that wasn’t the world you lived in.

In the world you lived in, you and Finnick were sold at ages far too young. First, you sold your souls by winning The Games, and then your bodies were sold to people who had no business touching you.

In the world you lived in, you were only brought together because of tragedy. You only dated to try and save yourselves from a much greater evil, not because you loved each other.

In the world you lived in, Finnick fell in love with you. But he couldn’t tell you that, not when his biggest fear became losing you.

But in the world you lived in, he lost you, anyway.

So he had to have hope that a better world was possible- he had to. Not having that was another blow he wasn’t sure he could take.

When imagining your better world turned into reminiscing over all that’d happened to you both, he cut his thoughts off. He couldn’t let himself stop and break down now, not when he was so close to the finish line, so close to you.

So he pulled rope from his pocket, tying the same knots over and over again, a habit he’d picked up at a young age. Focusing on the knots was able to take his mind off everything, allowing white noise to play instead of this song.

He didn’t want to hear it without you.

He did this until he lost track of time. It was only when the doors slid open again that he was broken out of his trance. Katniss perked up right away. It was Haymitch behind the door, looking as enthusiastic as Finnick had ever seen him. “They’re back.”

She gasped, getting up and running right away, but it was as if Finnick was cemented to his spot. They’re back. 

You were back.

Just like that, he was shaken out of his shock, standing and quickly catching up with them.

They ran until they were in the medical area. As soon as they got there, he saw Johanna, ripping an IV out of her arm. Her hair was gone, shaven off, bruises all over her pale, pale face.

“Johanna,” Katniss muttered, but Finnick’s attention was elsewhere, eyes darting around the room, searching for you, heart racing.

And then he saw you.

His eyes went wide. “Y/N!” Without waiting another second, he ran to you. After over a month, here you were, right in front of him.

But it wasn’t so simple.

You flinched as his hands went to touch you, making him retract them right away. Your eyes didn’t look in his direction once.

Like you were scared of him.

At the thought, his heart clenched. It was only then that he noticed you were shaking, even as you were covered in blankets.

Your body was littered with cuts and bruises. You were pale, too, so clearly malnourished and sleep deprived. But it was your eyes that really got him. Your beautiful eyes no longer looked so lively. They looked empty.

You looked like a ghost.

“Y/N?” His voice cracked simultaneously with his heart. Why weren’t you looking at him? “Y/N-”

He was cut off. “Mr. Odair.” He turned to see a doctor standing on the other side of your bed, a hesitant look on her face and a look in her eyes that made a shiver go up spine. “Could I speak to you for a moment?”

He glanced back to you, seeing that you still weren’t looking at him. Your gaze was fixed on a spot on your bed. You hadn’t looked up once, even as the doctor spoke. Confused, he nodded, letting the woman pull him to the side, out of earshot from you.

But even as the doctor started speaking, he couldn’t get your eyes out of his mind.

That look in your eye was somehow worse than any of his nightmares combined.

“Mr. Odair, Ms. Y/L/N’s condition is… it’s quite complex,” she cautioned. He furrowed his brows, his worry increasing.

“What do you mean- is she okay-”

“No, I meant- physically, I’m not seeing much to be worried about. Of course, she could be better- much better, but this is what we were expecting.” She paused, glancing at you. “Mentally- I’m not even sure where to begin.”

He glanced back at you, too, to see that you were still staring at that same spot on your bed. He let the doctor’s words register in his brain. You weren’t okay.

“We’ve informed psych, but for now, you’re just gonna need to give her time.” Time.

He let out a breath, feeling his eyes getting wet as what she was saying really soaked in. “You’re telling me to leave.” Just as he got you back.

“Mr. Odair-”

“You’re telling me to leave.”

“Finnick.” She cut him off with a strong call of his name. “Your girlfriend’s mental state right now is unstable. She’s in shock; she’s not herself right now. It is going to take some time to get her out of this state, and it’s going to be hard for you to see her in it. In the meantime, the best thing you can do for her is take some time to collect your thoughts.”

She was telling him to go off and think. Did she know that’s all he’d been doing for hours, thinking and throwing himself into the worst possible scenarios, only to realize that one of them had become a reality?

But he didn’t tell her this, instead looking back at you. You were lifeless. When he looked back at the doctor, there was a pleading expression on her face. He didn’t want to leave you, but she made it sound like the best possible thing to do for you. So he did.

But the truth was, he just couldn’t bear to watch you when you were like that.

You were the love of his life. It was like his heart started beating again when he saw you there, alive, but then it dulled once he really looked at you.

You didn’t look like the girl he fell in love with, the girl that went into that arena, or the girl he said goodbye to. It only took a month, and now you looked like a completely different person, like you had seen things no man had ever seen.

In his haze, Finnick made it back to his room, but he didn’t make it to the bed, collapsing onto the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest as his mind spun.

You were alive. He thought that, when he finally saw you again, all of his worries would be erased, that everything would be okay again, that the world would go back to being in colour instead of this black and white that he’d been stuck in with Katniss.

But nothing seemed more colourful.

Nothing seemed better.

You were here. You were back, Y/N Y/L/N, the same woman he loved, the same woman he’d dreamt about for weeks. You were alive. 

But, oh, he should’ve known it couldn’t have been that easy.

Your heart was beating, your eyes were open, and you were there… but that didn’t mean you were alive.

I told you. I’m not letting you die.

Little did Finnick know, you were already dead. 

Taglist: @avoxrising @mxacegrey @littleshadow17 @lovelyteenagebeard @nasyanastya @catastrxblues @zodiyack @zulpix-blog @mushroomelephant @muggies @lantsovheiress @hobiebrowns-wife @notplutos @faeriepigeons

[casualaruanienjoyer]

Mikasa and Jean (post rumbling) babysitting.

Oh anon, this was a very fun one to write! It's a bit long, I hope you don't mind! 👀

Babysitting

When Jean and Mikasa learned about Annie’s pregnancy they were overjoyed. The recently married lovebirds made their announcement during dinner, where everyone had been invited.

Jean teased Armin to no end while Mikasa comforted Annie, making sure she was doing well. They were like family after all, the four of them alongside Connie, Pieck, Reiner and Levi. They celebrated all night long.

But no one expected their kid to turn out to be such a little brat. Well, all toddlers are assholes, but their little girl was spoiled to death. Both Armin and Annie wanted Iris to have the life they never got to have, so they gave her everything, from toys to clothes and infinite affection. They had been a bit too lenient. Too soft.

“For fuck’s sake!” Jean shouts, running around the living room with a butterfly net. “Come back here you little shit!!”

Iris is only one year and a half, but already has an attitude the size of a Colossal titan.

She refused to eat anything Mikasa cooked her and then, when they weren’t looking, escaped her high chair to roam through the house unattended.

“Jean, be careful!” Mikasa holds up a blanket, trying to capture the little monster.

Jean and Mikasa had offered to keep an eye on her for a few hours while Armin and Annie went away on a little trip. They REALLY needed a break from parenting, even for just a bit.

Both of them agreed to meet up at the Arlert residence to babysit Iris. It all seemed easy at the start.

“Got ya!” Mikasa says triumphantly, catching Iris in her blanket, wrapping it around her and lifting her up. She glances over at Jean, smiling, proud of herself.

But Jean really underestimated how difficult caring for a kid was. Especially while his and Mikasa’s relationship was still uncertain.

Yes. Uncertain. Undefined. Unlabeled. Were they dating? I mean they hugged before, once or twice. And their fingers had touched on some occasions. But Jean really didn’t want to push his luck, with Mikasa’s feelings toward Eren possibly still lingering.

“Haha, got ya you little fuck! You’re going straight back into your crib. No more play time.” Jean laughs, still panting from running around.

“Jean, you really shouldn’t talk like that around her.” Mikasa scolds him. “She’s a fast learner”.

“Of course she talks a lot, just like her dad” Jean crosses his arms. “That guy never shuts up!”. Mikasa nods, tickling Iris who giggles in return.

“Horsie!” Iris laughs, reaching out for some of Jean’s loose hair.

“Huh?! Not you too!”

Mikasa’s hand covers her mouth, muffling a few laughs. Jean lifts an eyebrow at her reaction and she turns her face away.

“No, Iris, my name is Jean. Jeeaann.” He repeats slowly, trying to get Iris to say his ACTUAL name.

Iris frowns, sticking out her tongue and turning towards Mikasa. She was a lot more fond of her than Jean. Mikasa was better at handling kids in general. She took care of Eren and Armin after all. And kids just gravitated towards her.

She was kind and soft. Had a lovely smile and a beautiful face. But she was also a badass, and could lift insane amounts of weights, including several kids at once. This is partly why kids gravitated towards her. She was like a superhero to them.

And given how much Mikasa had gone through, she was pretty much a superhero to Jean himself. Her scars were deep, too deep for kids to notice them. But Jean knew everything, he had seen Mikasa break and rebuild herself time and time again. He has no idea how she kept moving forward even after Eren’s death.

“I don’t think she’ll say your name anytime soon, Jean '' Mikasa adds, stroking Iris’s back. “It’s not exactly easy to pronounce”.

“And Mikasa is? She didn’t have issues saying that one!” Jean scoffs.

“I mean, she can’t say Arlert yet either. And her Reiner sounds more like ‘laina’ than anything” Mikasa moves to leave the living room and Jean follows her upstairs.

“True, I mean she’s still so small. But one day she’ll say Jean.” He smirks. “-Best uncle Jean-, to be precise”.

“But Connie’s her favourite uncle.” Mikasa opens the door to Iris’s room.

“For now. Give her some time and she’ll realise who the cool uncle really is!” Jean holds the door for her.

“I’m pretty sure she likes you the least.” She says flatly. “Even Levi’s higher on her list of ‘cool uncles’ and he made her cry the first time they met” Mikasa places Iris in her crib.

“Harsh” Jean pouts, passing Iris her favourite toy, a whale plushie. “So, who do -you- think is the coolest uncle?”. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms.

“Just so you know, I think all of you are very uncool” Mikasa tucks Iris in. It’s time she had a nap. “But if I had to pick, I think you’re the most fun to be around” she says softly while caressing Iris’ forehead.

“Oh?” Jean lifts an eyebrow. “Really? Well, miss Ackerman, I think you’re a pretty cool uncle yourself.”

Mikasa snorts. He always knew how to make her laugh.

“Very funny Jean.” She stands, pushing some hair behind her ear. “She’s asleep, we should let her be for a while.”

“Alright, we’ll check on her in a bit. Let’s take a break” and they turn off the light and leave the room, closing the door carefully.

“Alright, 30 minutes left.” Jean looks at his watch. “We’re almost done with her”.

They decide it would be best to hang out somewhere close by just in case Iris wakes up early, so they enter the guest bedroom next door. Mikasa rests on the bed while Jean falls into a comfortable armchair next to it.

“She’s a menace” Jean mutters. “So stubborn, just like her mom.”

“I don’t know, Armin can be pretty stubborn himself.” Mikasa chuckles, leaning back against her arms. “But she’s fast and climbs everywhere. I think she got Annie’s agility.”

“She’s pretty much a copy of Annie. They look so similar.”

“Yeah…”

There was silence for a while, Jean fiddling with his shirt while Mikasa glanced out the window.

“Thanks for doing this with me” she breaks the silence, crossing her legs on the bed.

“Of course, those hopeless dorks really needed help. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Armin so tired in my life.” he leans against his hand. “Besides, I like spending time with you” he mutters.

Mikasa smiles and shifts a bit closer to him, now facing each other.

“I like spending time with you too, Jean.” she pauses, playing with her fingers. “We should do it more often.”

Jean’s eyes widen. “You… you’d like that?”

“Yeah. You always make me laugh.”

“You do have a nice smile” Jean says, and Mikasa’s blush provokes his own. He takes a moment to reply. “And a nice…well… everything else”. Oh no, did he overstep?

“Jean…” she sounds serious, and Jean is about to get up and leave. But Mikasa stops him. “Stay. We need to talk”

“About what?” Jean asks, flustered. “I’m sorry, Mikasa. I said to-”

“No, you didn’t. I also…think you’re nice. Y-your smile…” her voice is small, like a whisper. “And everything else too”.

Jean is stunned. What was happening? Was Mikasa… flirting with him?? He must be reading between the lines.

But then she gazed at him with a spark in her eyes, rosy cheeks and furrowed brows in a way he’s never seen her do before and he can’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing her soft lips. They stayed like this for a second which felt like an eternity. But then Jean pulled away, covering his mouth. “I’M SO SORRY-!” He stands up, kicking the armchair behind him. Now he’s done it.

But Mikasa pulls him back down, kissing him again much more powerfully than he had done moments before and he loses his balance, falling over her on the bed.

He pushes himself up on his arms. “Hey, what are y-” but she kisses him again, and again. Jean can’t think straight and before he knows it one hand is in her hair and the other one rests on her waist, playing with the hem of her blouse. How long were they like this for? Were they really…

“MAKING OUT?” Annie shouts, the door slamming open. Armin’s in the door frame too, holding Iris but covering her eyes. Her face is plastered in what looks like pie.

“WHILE IRIS IS DOWNSTAIRS, IN THE KITCHEN NO LESS!” She’s fuming, slowly making her way towards the bed.

"Fuck!" Iris giggles, and everyone goes quiet. Annie turns to glare at Jean and a shiver runs down his spine. “JEAN KIRSTEIN, YOU ARE A DEAD MAN”.

If Jean died right now, he’d be a happy man.

💜This fic is now also on AO3 !

[googleincognitomode]

thg headcanons:

(Trigger warning for phobia, trauma and psychological mentionings)

the Hawthornes have a family song/lullaby: the “I love you song” ( Frankie Valley LOVE song). It all started out with mr h and hazelle having a dance to the song, and then gales dad just starts sing to hazelle and his kids to ‘brighten up their lives’. Gale n hazelle continues on the song to sing the kids to sleep, cuz it is a sweet thing that makes them think of the good times before the chaos.

katniss uses unscented shampoo and conditioners. she hates the reminder of it’s artificial, unrealistic, inauthenticity— like the Capitol. By being unscented and not having any connection to the Capitol, katniss allows herself to be free and unbranded. peeta always uses fresh or sweeter scents: maybe like mint and chamomile. But he ends up smelling like backed good at the end of the day

haymitch is Madge’s godfather like figure. he is close to her mother, due to being connected to mayslee. cuz of this, the undersees trust him a lot and have so much faith with him. he even cares a lot for Madge too, wanting what’s good for her.

Johanna, from the hjacking, developed a phobia of any form of water. cuz of that, she couldn’t take a proper shower or bath for a good couple of years, and won’t visit district 4 (also the pain of losing a close friend). she would clean herself with watered rags and wipe her body clean. she also cuts her hair short, never too short, but short and asks Annie to wash her hair for her— which she always does and hold her hands telling her she’s okay.

To add on, I think Katniss develops on onset phobia of needles. After all the trauma and abuse she got from the capital and the revolution, she hates the idea of needles, cus it just trigger her fight-or-flight reaction to protecting herself. Especially all the episodes of being unconscious, drugged up or injuries beyond repair.

Annie, I think, would want to become a psychologist, or something incredibly similar in the future. She learns to become better and helps other with similar situations to improve themselves to become more at ease. She specifies in trauma/addiction and childhood psychotherapy.

The mellarks adopt another cat and name it dandelion. Similar to the flower/plant motive of the Everdeens name, but also cause it reminds katniss of peeta. Dandelion, the cat, would be blonde with white in it. And it would be always there at the corner of katniss’ eye

Finnick has a massive book collection and poetry collection at his place. Him, Mags and Annie all have a ‘Book Club’ group and talk to each other

Finnick can’t sing anything other than sea-ship songs. Like those old-times pirate/ sea songs. He also sways a little when he stands too still for too long— an old habit that died hard from his youth his his dad owning a boat. Annie smtimes joins him w his singing, and mags too

[ilguna]

☼ faithful (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; no longer being forced to stay in District Four, Finnick takes you to experience the Capitol during your honeymoon.

warnings; swearing, death mention.

wc; 1.2k

–

At the time Finnick got reaped for the Quarter Quell, you were nothing but his faithful girlfriend. 

The two of you had started dating a few months before the announcement. It was a decision you made together. Especially since he was afraid of how the Capitol would react to you—even worse, President Snow. However, as soon as word got back that he wasn’t concerned about you, Finnick could breathe easier.

You tried to tell him that Snow wouldn’t end up caring. After all, you’re a nobody District Four girl, what could you do to threaten him, when he has all the power? You couldn’t, you had no intention to, anyway. At least, you didn’t then.

The time between that day and the announcement of the Quell was a grace period, you can see that now. The real test was your reaction to learning that Finnick had a chance of going back inside of the arena. And the fact that you could lose him if he did.

Finnick hated watching you worry over him the months leading up to the Reaping. No matter how much he begged you to relax and trust him, the tension never left your body. You spent every waking moment cherishing his behavior, and trying to convince yourself it wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

You were acutely aware of what everyone around you was thinking; it was a tragedy. He would be forced to fight in an arena against other experienced tributes, and you could do nothing but watch and try to stay optimistic for his return.

You can’t say you were proud of your initial reaction after the Reaping. You were upset you weren’t able to say one last goodbye inside of the Justice Building, and furthermore, everyone was forbidden from crowding the train station. It didn’t help that the people around you thought you wanted to hear their condolences, instead of allowing you to stand in deafening silence, already feeling the absence of his presence that you could very well be forced to live with for the rest of your life.

You left, and when you returned, you weren’t the same person.

In the first week of Finnick and Mags being gone, there were several rebel attacks in District Four. They were all in retaliation against the peacekeepers, who were using brute force to make sure that workers were meeting their fishing quota like they were before. 

There were dozens of bodies of parents, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, daughters and sons. Each time people were gathered before the Justice Building to watch the Quell, there was unrest in the crowd, but no true guide on how to properly execute the anger that was boiling beneath their skin

If Finnick had even the slightest idea that his faithful girlfriend, the one that has never trained for the Hunger Games once in her life. That never showed an interest in learning to defend herself before he was gone. That didn’t even entertain the idea of drills if the Capitol attacked—would turn around and become a District Four rebel leader in the first week he was gone, he wouldn’t have left in the first place.

You know him, which means that there’s no doubt in your mind that he would’ve pulled every possible string in order to stay and keep an eye on you. He would’ve been sure that you were going to get yourself killed from doing something so reckless that you’ve never done before.

If it weren’t for you, Annie and the rest of the victors in District Four would’ve been taken to the Capitol to be tortured, alongside Johanna and Peeta. If it weren't for you, District Four would’ve had a smaller impact on the rebellion, instead of the overwhelming crowd that showed up to raid Snow’s home. If it weren’t for you, hundreds of more people would’ve died in the months leading up to the capture of the Capitol.

A part of you was prepared for him to be angry with you when he found out, but there was this smile that spread over his face. He was proud. You found your voice in a time of need instead of withering away, something you swore you’d do while he was gone.

To think that was just last year. And now, you’re married to him, having your honeymoon in the Capitol. A place that you thought you’d never get to experience, much less with the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.

It was weird, stepping foot onto the pastel stones, walking the streets of the brightly colored buildings you’d only seen on broadcasts. The people in the Capitol still dress the same, in their garish clothes, going through the fashion trends as if nothing changed in the first place.

Despite the worry that district and Capitol people could never intermix, it happens everyday, and no one makes a scene out of it. While they were comfortable before the rebellion, now they’re so much happier. The Capitol has never been more popular, and that’s one thing their people take pride in.

“What’s next on the agenda?” You ask Finnick, squeezing his hand.

He gives you a dimpled smile, “Well, there’s a festival later tonight that I’m sure you’ll enjoy. So, we’re going to drop these off and get ready for it.”

In his other hand, he holds all the shopping bags from each store he insisted to bring you to. He brought you into them on purpose, knowing very well that you wouldn’t be able to control yourself.

“What type of festival?” You ask. You’ve heard about the one they used to do the night before the Hunger Games, and it’s almost that time of the week. A few days ago would’ve been the Reaping.

“It’s a food festival.” He tells you, sensing your anxiety, “There’s going to be all sorts of food from the Capitol and each of the districts. It’s been in the works for months to map out the Capitol so that the streets appear as if you’re walking through the districts.”

“Oh,” You sigh, “That sounds nice.”

“We’ll have a few hours to get ready for it.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

At the rental home, Finnick carefully places your new belongings on the kitchen table. You made him buy a few things as well, since you weren’t comfortable having everything bought just for you. Even if he’s been here enough times to be your tour guide through the city.

You fall on top of the freshly made bed, sinking into the mattress. You close your eyes so that you can rest a minute before you begin the process of making yourself look nice. You’ve already done so much today, and you’re sure that after the food festival tonight, you’ll be wiped.

“Are you having fun, baby?” Finnick asks, sitting next to you. 

You let out a hum, before looking over at him. He’s pulling off his shoes, he glances at you. “More than I thought, it was a good choice to come here instead of renting a beach house in Four. We can do that any day.”

He laughs, “I told you, didn’t I?”

“But,” You drag out the word, “I can’t wait to go home, too. I think I’m excited to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Finnick pouts for a second, he reaches over to move a hair out of your face, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Finnick.”

[kellysue]

On Interviews and Getting All Up In My Head

If you haven’t yet listened to Sam Fragoso’s interview with Annie Baker, please do. Baker is startlingly honest, and I mean that literally. I was folding clothes, hadn't even chosen the episode—it was just the next thing in my queue after whatever grisly murder podcast I had purposely selected. I was startled enough to stop folding, rewind, and listen again. I don’t want to say too much about it for fear of spoiling the experience for you, but there’s an authenticity there that’s rare. If anyone within the reach of this email knows Fragoso or Baker, please pass along my compliments. It was a hell of a thing.

Interviews are on my mind as I gear up to do press for the new comic. I’m not a shy person, not an introvert in the least (as anyone who’s met me will attest) but I do get up in my head about this stuff. It’s a part of the job that elicits a stew of feelings. The sort of vulnerability required to write, to create anything really, is different from the vulnerability required to talk about the work, about the process, or about yourself in that mix. (My heart is beating a little bit faster all of a sudden—my body reacting to even the thought of it. No kidding: I just got a notification from the Apple Health app.) There’s a certain defensiveness in the experience, no matter how friendly the interlocutor, one I suspect is fueled by the spirit of this internet age. As a part of your brain is searching for an honest answer, another is running through all the ways your response could be deliberately misconstrued, and a third is asking, ‘Will this really help the sales of the book/film/show/etc.?’ Is this worth it?

Baker lays all that bare; she risks being considered “difficult” or annoying Fragoso. (To his great credit, he doesn’t just allow for it; he answers her vulnerability with his own.) She appreciates the thoroughness of his preparation but at the same time wonders aloud at the peculiarity of having something she once said parroted back to her as Truth. She doesn’t deny having said it, and likely it was true once, but memory and identity are fickle things, and the perspective of age alters how the light hits both. Of course, for the purpose of an interview, for the purpose of any conversation, there have to be some things we take as given, but her willingness to highlight the absurdity of the exercise, to own her discomfort, and then to light up when Fragoso is willing to ride along is refreshing, a buoy to me just now.

I love her willingness to push back, too. If you know me, you know I can be a lot, and I don’t exactly have a reputation for conflict-avoidance, but there have been moments/remarks in interviews past that I let slide unchallenged and they gnaw at me still. My hesitancy to hit the press circuit probably has something to do with that as well. Fear of signing up to either answer the well-meaning stranger back or grit my teeth and learn to live with another Lego in my shoe. And for what? In comics, anyway, no one seems to know what press, if any, will move the needle.

Oh goodness. Reading back, I’ve descended into something that looks rather unflatteringly like privileged moping. I am fortunate to make my living in the arts, I know. My challenges are hardly those of a coal miner or a policy-maker, I know, but here we are. Bucking up now, I promise.

I’ll say in closing this bit out, though, that I probably ought to own that my efforts to find new ways to market FML (starting with the acrostic in the last email) are not entirely about the current media landscape. They’re at least in part a reaction to the current me landscape. And I think it’s probably okay to acknowledge the absurdity of being so tired you can’t bring yourself to do things the usual way and then making up new approaches that require three times the work. Nothing if not on brand.

xo

Kelly Sue

[aruanimess]

I know there have been " warrior Armin" and " paradis Annie" ideas, but honestly

What if we switched RBA and EMA?

Like

Paradis RBA w Annie and Reiner pressured to become MPs and Berthold just tagging along

And EMA all from Marley, but with Eren having been a baby when Grisha got deported, having been raised on both Marley Propaganda but also the True Backstory of what happened to Faye, as well as Armins " my parents were killed trying to escape" and Mikasas " my mom is not Eldian, but they persecuted her too bcs she married my father" has very strong OPINIONS about Marley

Idk weather Grisha would give yhe Attack Titan to Reiner ( for wanting to do good and be a hero) or Annie ( " ah yes, this is a person who wants to survive at all costs and does have the guts to kill Marley)

Hey, friend! Sorry for taking forever to respond T_T

Okay, I don't quite know where to begin with this, so let's just dive right in!

I'm assuming in this AU RBA's family situations are similar to their Marleyan equivalent, right? We have Reiner pressured by Karina to become an MP because his dad is from Wall Sina, Annie pushed by her father to join for social mobility reasons, and Bertolt is trying to provide for his sick parent. A couple of things that I think would be interesting to explore in this setting:

Maybe Reiner's dad was an MP too. He met Karina while in training, fathered Reiner and then just abandoned them for the safety of Wall Sina.

What sort of discrimination would Mr Leonhart face? Would he have retreated in the forest like Mikasa's parents? And on that note, why did Annie's birth parents abandon her? (Ackerman Annie perhaps? 👀)

Again, with Bertolt, it would be interesting to explore the possibility of someone joining the military for financial reasons. Our protagonists in canon all seem to have personal motivations whether that's wanting to make a difference or wanting to make their parents proud. The closer we get to choosing this career as a means to earning a living is Jean and Sasha, and even then Jean is more concerned with the security Wall Sina will provide for him, while Sasha most likely doesn't want to become a farmer. So I think that could be an intriguing angle to explore with Bertolt.

Now, regarding on who would get the titan, I'm inclined to answer with Reiner because of the parallels of his character with Eren's. However, I believe that a few things should occur differently in order for this to happen. More specifically, I think Reiner should have already had the disappointing encounter with his dad by the time Grisha gives him the Titan. Otherwise he wouldn't be in the right mental state for Grisha to choose him. Maybe Reiner has a chance encounter with his father when his dad is roaming outside Wall Sina on official MP business (aka murdering ppl) and then feels the need to become a hero to fight the titans and also atone for his father's crimes. This would maintain the Eren//Reiner parallels too, with Reiner rejecting his own father's path and embracing Grisha's path instead.

Another thing that would be interesting to happen is for Grisha and Eren's time within the Walls to overlap somewhat. After all, if Grisha got deported when Eren was a baby, then the curse of Ymir wouldn't take effect until Eren reaches at least 13. It would be fascinating to see Grisha's reaction to a full-fledged (and fully indoctrinated) Warrior Eren.

[indelen]

Alright, I'm hideously behind and the world is awful so I’m just going to blitz through to the end because the next readthrough is starting soon and I'm not even done with this one, like what is this, high school English? So ....

This is my reread of the Lockwood and Co. Books, organized by @blue-boxes-magic-and-tea, I'll make a general summary of several chapters and then post bits and pieces that jumped out at me.

I go into a longer analysis of Fairfax and Annie’s relationship and how it relates to Lucy but I do want to say kudos to Stroud for portraying such a realistic unhealthy relationship. This is a young adult book and he could have easily made Annabel Ward a saintly abuse victim, but she wasn’t. She was in a complicated toxic relationship with a powerful man, she feared him but wanted his love and approval, she acted in ways that provoked him, which obviously was not smart but abused people do not act in relatable, logical ways. Abuse victims fight back, act in toxic ways, return to their abusers and do any number of seemingly illogical things and I think that it says a lot about Lucy that despite all her baggage, her young age, her “not like other girls” tendencies, her inability to relate to the life Annie had, she still felt an enormous amount of empathy for her and it was that empathy that saved them in the end.

Part IV, Chapters 23-24:

Lucy’s family and her past in Cheviot Hills is fascinating because she never speaks about them except for the very succinct and detached way at the very start and these small moments throughout the books that indicate they mean a lot more to her than she would ever admit to anyone. The fact that she keeps some kind of memory box far under her bed, the fact that she sees her sisters as concussed visions alongside Annie Ward and Lockwood who, for very different reasons, currently occupy her mind quite a bit, shows the family she left behind still has a huge hold over her.

I love George so much because he sasses and analyzes everything in front of him from literally the moment he regains consciousness.

Never going to be normal about Lucy using this sort of imagery about Lockwood. She’s reaching near Victorian levels of Beautiful Death prose. Lockwood is always ethereal, otherworldly and doomed. Too good and beautiful for this sinful earth. What’s interesting is that in literature this sort of imagery is usually reserved for the hero describing the heroine. It’s one of many times the “hero” and “heroine” tropes between these two that are pretty regularly subverted.

Fairfax is like Combe Carey Hall itself in that at night he transforms and the posh and valuable facade recedes to reveal a grotesque and horrible true nature underneath.

Fairfax is an abuser who cannot understand that his toxic relationship with Annie is entirely of his own making. From the beginning their relationship was not that of equals. He was of a higher social class than her and never did anything to bridge that gap because it would threaten his precious inheritance and he never viewed acting or this part of his life as permanent or worth preserving. He was just partying and having fun before he settled into living a rich man’s life. He hid his relationship with Annabel and Annabel, naturally, resented the shit out of being treated as someone’s dirty secret. She sensed how disposable she was to him and got jealous, manufactured conflict and fights, flirted with other men, all to get attention and to provoke a reaction from Fairfax. And he rewarded her for this behavior. He was obviously controlling and his lavish gifts were meant to pacify her. They also normalized their unhealthy dynamic, the locket explicitly referred to the toxicity of their relationship as romantic. You can’t write “my torment, my bliss” on a jeweled locket and give it to a girl and then be surprised when she kinda thinks you’re ok with the torment bit. And so round and round it went until … frankly I’m not even sure that one fight was any worse than all the others. Fairfax never saw Annie as a person, he saw her as beneath him, and disposed of her, out of possessiveness and anger sure, but also out of pragmatic convenience. As long as Annie lived she was a liability and posed a risk to his reputation and name. He can try and pitch their relationship as mutually toxic and harmful all he wants but the truth is only Annie was ever in danger in it.

And here is where I put my tinfoil hat on.

Because my theory is that Annabel Ward was drawn to Lucy and formed such an empathetic bond with her specifically because she saw Lucy as being in the same situation as her. Ghosts seem to have limited capacities and see things on a loop and devoid of context. To Annabel’s spirit the story of meeting a dashing young man through work, work both are passionate about and work that brings them intimately closer together, but he is of higher social class and is financially better off and also he holds a significant amount of power over her is, on paper, very similar. Lucy might not think Annabel is much like her, but Annabel’s ghost sees things in Lucy’s mind she recognizes. Her hidden emotions, the desperate besotted love she feels for a magnetic, powerful person in her life and the feeling of inadequacy and desire to be seen as good, as valuable to him are all familiar ones Annie latches onto. And while Lucy is too young and repressed and traumatized to recognize any of this, I think she still learns a lot from Annie. It’s not a coincidence that the biggest conflict between Lockwood and Lucy is that of inequality and disbalance of power. Lucy, from this point onward, will grow to dislike that Lockwood does not share anything with her emotionally and that he overrules or does not consult her opinions professionally. And to some extent I think it’s her learning from poor Annie Ward.

Yea OK this is where I have trouble buying the “killed instantly” story Fairfax tells to everyone including himself. The human neck is not made of LEGO bricks and it’s hard to kill a fully grown adult with a single blow. So unfortunately, and this is NOT A NICE MENTAL IMAGE so like, skip to the next point if you don’t want to read something that describes grievous bodily harm, abuse and murder, but unfortunately it’s very possible Fairfax very badly injured Annie but she did not die instantly. Like, he may have broken her spine, but while that would inacapitate her, it would not necessarily kill her. If this is true then she died a much slower and more terrible death. And a few things in the above section support this. Annie repeating she’s “cold” but not understanding why. The manifestation of sounds and how they overlap - the hammering that entombed her, tapping of a finger on plaster, the slowing beating of a heart. Did Annie die on some level aware that her lover was disposing of her even before her last breath? Ghostlock was not enough. She should have eaten him.

Very early on we get these hints of just how much of a capitalist nightmare Fittes is and how it slowly swallows up smaller agencies and clearly aims to become a monopoly and discards kids they have no use for. And also how many of those kids clearly fall through the cracks and end up in criminal organizations or doing the dirty work of wealthy unscrupulous magnates.

Book Lockwood is pretty violent in these low key, concentrated and brutally efficient bursts and it’s one of those things that remains enigmatically unexplained. It’s not just fencing too, it’s all sorts of stuff. In the next book he folds Ned Shaw like a tablecloth. Did Gravedigger Sykes teach him? Flo? Unexplained! Very hot though. You 100% can see where Lucy is coming from.

Smile counter is still at 9 since there was nothing much to grin at in these chapters, but I want to give a shout-out to George for chasing after Percy, a grown man armed with a gun remember, alongside Lockwood. Like that's good guts, George doesn't like action, he doesn't live for it like Lockwood does, but he doesn't shrink away from it either.

[eptodaytommorowforever]

Events In The History And The Life Of Elvis Presley Today On The 22nd Of June In 1974.

Elvis Presley In Providence Ri Evening Show On June The 22nd In 1974.

Two Elvis Presley Fans From Providence Ri there true Experience being At the Elvis Presley's Two Shows On June The 22nd In 1974.

News of an Elvis Presley's concerts in Providence, R. I. first broke in late April when there was a small mention of it in one Boston paper. It was such a small article that many people nearly missed it and we had to be told about it by a friend who reads the paper more thoroughly than we do. We immediately rushed out that same night to put our ticket order in the mail hoping an early Postmark would get us better seats... but things don't always work out that way., do they? The Civic Center was so swamped with mail orders they not only were forced to dis-regard postmarks, but they didn't mail out tickets as soon as they'd promised. When our tickets finally came, they were upper balcony, quite a ways back from the stage. But we were able to borrow binoculars, so all was not lost. 

It had been two years since we saw Elvis Presley at Madison Square Garden,. and we were really looking forward to seeing him again. We wanted to try meeting his plane, so we went to the airport early the morning of June 22. While waiting around, we were approached by a man who offered to take us up for a ride in his plane. Feeling adventurous, we went up for an aerial tour of Rhode Island. Our guide, Ted Hopkins, was kind enough to radio in and ask if Elvis Presley had landed yet. Held come in a 2:00 a. m., so we went on to the Civic Center. 

We saw both the 2:30pm matinee and the 8:30pm evening show. This review is of the 8:30 show, although both shows were basically the same. 

Elvis Presley came running out on stage in a white jumpsuit with a blue "rainbow" swirled around his body and down his leg. He didn't wear a cape for either show. He went into " C. C. Rider, " obviously in a great mood, doing a spirited " one.. two.. three.. four " followed by a corresponding number of thrusts of a leg. Then he did " I Got A Woman " combined with ''Amen, " giving special recognition to J. D. Sumner Is deep voice. This was followed by " Love Me " and " Trying To Get To You " ( in which he says, " I've been travelling night and day, I've been streaking all the way... " which the crowd just loved ). Next came "All Shook Up, " " Love Me Tender, " " Hound Dog, " and " Fever. " He did a great version of " Polk Salad Annie, " which was really loved by the crowd. When he finished " Why Me Lord, " the reaction was so good, he repeated the chorus once again. 

Linda Thompson was at both shows, coming out just before Elvis Presley and sitting up front, to the side of the stage. When Elvis Presley did "Suspicious Minds, " instead of doing the line "I never lied to you. . . no, not much, " he left out the "not much" and looked in Linda's direction. 

Next, he paused long enough to introduce the band. At the matinee he introduced John Wilkinson as being from Providence and at the evening show he introduced Charlie Hodge as being from Pawtucket... both times he had a mischievous grin on his face and you could tell he was putting everyone on, but the crowd really loved it. 

" Know what I can't do? "... " I Can't Stop Loving You, " and with those words, he launched into a beautiful version of the song. Then he mentioned having a record out entitled " Help Me " and " If You Talk In Your Sleep " and said they'd like to do " Help. Me. " This song has so much more impact when you hear it live than it does on record- -fantastic. 

During "American Trilogy, " he clowns slightly when he sings ". . look away Disney... dixieland. 

Something fairly new for Elvis Presley is " Let Me Be There. " As he's done before, he can take someone's hit song and make it his own, putting such vitality and life into it. This song was a great new treat and we hope he'll continue to do it. 

After having the house lights turned up so he could look at the audience, he sings " Funny How Time Slips Away " (Steve says to me thank God for, Elvis Presley). At the matinee he sang... " Never know when I'll be back in town... 8:30 tonight. " 

Something different for a live concert was " Big Boss Man, " which he did marvelously. One older man down in front of us kept calling out " Teddy Bear " all during the show, and we were so happy for him when Elvis Presley did a " Teddy Bear " / " Don't Be Cruel " medley. 

Naturally, the saddest part of any concert is the beginning of " Can't Help Falling In Love, " and this was no exception. Elvis Presley had put on such a fantastic show, had been in such a great mood, and looked so darned handsome, we all hated to see this song come. But he gave the crowd a beautiful surprise by not rushing off the stage at the close of the song, but spending some time shaking hands around the edge of the stage. 

Time had stood still for an hour, but suddenly it was all over and the clock started up again. We met many fans outside afterwards and everyone agreed that it had been a magnificent concert; one we will long remember. Thank you, Elvis Presley for such a beautiful gift.

Rare Unseen Till Now! The Two Fans Private Live In Action! Candid Photo's Here Of Elvis Presley Taken At This Show Venue.

[rotten-dog-teeth]

I need to say something, as an archivist.

Please look after your books. Please. Don't throw them in the bin, don't tear pages out, don't screw them up. If you don't want them anymore, either sell them, or donate them, whether it be to a charity shop, a library, or a school or university.

I rescue old books and look after them. I've just been sorting through the most recent lot that I've gotten, and there were books in there - that the original owners wanted to just throw away - that had survived over 100 years, and predated the first (1st) world war.

That in itself, is amazing. Because what most people don't know/realise, is that so many books did not survive the world wars, especially the second (2nd) one. Not only were countless libraries destroyed in bombings, but so many books were burned and eradicated under the Nazi regime.

This is still an issue today, with book burnings and bannings still taking place, such as in the USA; as well as countries being bombed and seiged, destroying so many books containing records of those people's history, culture and lives, such as in Palestine.

I've found books that were printed the year the second (2nd) world war ended, first (1st) editions filled with documents from the war, detailing everything that happened, every action that was taken, everywhere they went, every letter that was exchanged, every soldier that was felled. Documents that would have otherwise been destroyed, if not during the war by the opposition, then by the people who wrote it in the first place, to try to hide certain aspects of the war to paint themselves in a better light, or cover up certains tragedies or mistakes. These are pivotal resources for historians, especially books for time periods less written about/well-documented.

So often, I see books that are on their last legs, falling apart, and most people's reactions are to just throw them in the bin. This breaks my heart. Not only are you destroying a record of something so human - whether that be stories told to children to help them sleep at night, records of a huge historical event that meant the world to the people of that time, poems written by someone painfully in love so long ago - but snuffing out the life that book lived.

Every book I rescue, I check for two (2) things: print date, and notes.

The print date is simple - it tells me how old the book is. But the notes are what I mean by the life of the book. So many books I find have hand-written notes in them, and they give you little hints of the life they've lived. Here are some real notes I've found in books:

"Peter, Chemistry department of [X] university" in a german-english dictionary of chemistry terminology. This book was a gift to a university student, he was studying chemistry, and probably either working with a German team, or maybe leaving home after university to go to Germany, or some other german speaking country. These kinds of books are really specific, and at the time of print (roughly the 50s or 60s if I remember correctly), you couldn't just search for it online (something a good portion of us have never known) - you had to find a specialist book shop or find one that could track it down for you. Whoever got this book, cared about the person they gave it to, and went through the effort of finding this specific book for Peter before he left home. I would guess maybe a family member. Maybe they never saw him again.

"For our 50th anniversary - Annie & Frank" in a little homemade books of recipes. This book had been put together over several years, presumeably over the course of this couple's marriage - 50 years. This book was probably an anniversary gift from one of the two (2) partners to the other. So many recipes, lovingly collected and kept over decades. Probably having been cooked for eachother a hundred times over. These people probably had such fond memories of being sat at the dinner table - maybe just the two (2) of them, maybe with family, friends, and other company - eating the warm, homemade meals from these recipes. Making and sharing food with someone is often a very intimate and loving thing to do. I like to think they loved eachother so very much.

[A double-sided A4 love letter] found in a book of poetry. The letter was faded, and most of it was indistinguishable, but there were little bits that I could read, and they were lovely. This was written more recently (it contained more modern dialect), but was still so precious all the same. I wonder what that book lived through. A spark. An anxious confession. A romance. Perhaps a break-up too. Maybe that's why the book ended up in the donations. I imagine that the recipient of the love letter and poetry forgot the letter was even in there. The book was probably a gift from their partner - maybe specially picked, perhaps because the recipient liked poetry, or that specific poet at least - and that's probably why they used the letter as a bookmark in it. I still think about those people sometimes, where they ended up. Where are they now?

Those are just some of them, and I hope you understand why I care so much about these little bundles of paper and ink. They tell a story, not just in what's printed, but in their age, their condition, in the little notes people leave behind. Even simply the fact that some books' pages are so thin and smooth from being flicked through and read by an adoring reader so many times that the page corners have been worn thin by stroking fingers.

You may feel like nobody cares about that one book you have sitting in the corner of your room, and that "there are thousands of those books, this one doesn't matter", or that it's "ruined" because of that little message your mum wrote on the front page when she got it for you, but what you don't realise is that future historians and archivists are begging you to look after it, and make sure it's given to a good home. It may end up being the last surviving copy of that book. That little message could tell them so much that you don't even notice right now.

It breaks my heart finding old books with pages missing, which may never be recovered - the contents lost to time forever. Finding books whose spines are falling apart and pages are moulded from dampness - having been neglected for years. Finding books whose pages are worn and faded, yellowed and bent - just left to rot.

It fustrates me when I find books that have been poorly or just outright incorrectly handled. You can tell if a book's from a school library, because it has tape all over the cover, hiding the face of the book with a permanent dust jacket, because apparently they decided it ought to stay hidden; because it has check-out pages glued over the print date, because the day somebody borrowed it is more important than the book's birthday. I love libraries, and they're so important, but sometimes I wish some of them took better care of their books.

This is my plea to the people, and love letter to the books.

Please. I love you.

[phoenixwritessmut]

intimacy headcanons about bottoms (2023)

okay, so i have a lot of feelings about this movie right here. i watched it in theatres with one of my bestfriends, and we couldn't stop talking about it afterwards - more specifically, headcanons we had about the fight club OG members and their reactions to sexual intimacy.

hear me out, okay.

PJ (we start with the queen who started it all): - talks a big game but actually wildly unknowledgeable about everything to do with the female orgasm. - is a bottom. it's in the title, it's in her genes, it's in her jeans. - has a controversy kink (cute cheerleaders, chicks that can make shit explode) and will vehemently deny that she likes the thrill of crushing out on someone she ABSOLUTELY has no business crushing on. - learned halfway through the movie that she's into pain!

Josie (the brains of the operation... sometimes): - pimpy as fuck. she thought she'd be shy and nervous, but when she gets going she's three steps from being the hugh hefner of lesbians. - she's a top, but a service top who will let her girl do the 'topping' if she wants to (and by girl, i mean Isabel). - secret collection of toys "just in case" she needs the help with her stamina (girl just recovered from a broken arm)... spoiler alert, they use absolutely none of them and still run for like four to six rounds. - too embarrassed to admit she used to watch videos to "take notes".

Hazel (my baby, she is everything to me): - is baby girl, but is also daddy depending on her mood (and what PJ is into at the time) but is precious none the less. - refuses to turn the lights off because she likes to watch you both during and after the throes of passion. - lowkey but also kind of highkey enjoys public displays of affection after the kiss that started the straight up murder of an entire football team of teenage boys (also enjoys shoving it in Tim's face that she's got a girlfriend, and he's got... Jeff!). - ridiculously good at what she does but doesn't brag... instead PJ brags to everyone for her, and she ends up with a reputation.

Isabel (shiny, shiny, shiny, shiny): - first time she slept with Josie, she lost all hope that a man would ever know how to satisfy her - or another woman for that matter. - seems like she would be a pillow princess but is actually extremely into giving, and fights with Josie all the time over "topping". - gets turned on watching Josie break people's noses (it's happened a few times, all to the same effect) and isn't ashamed to admit it. - went to Hazel for tips on how to do things, before word even got out that Hazel was a pro... Isabel just had the feeling that Hazel knew.

Brittany (token straight girl... literally the token straight girl): - since turning down PJ, has kissed more girls than the entire club combined (it doesn't help that half of them are all into each other). - wavers on the border of being bi-curious, but just didn't know how to turn down PJ gently, also just not ready to fully come out yet. - definitely fantasizes about women while she's with her boyfriend though. he knows and doesn't really mind about that. - stands by Hazel deserves better than PJ, and if she were just five percent more into women, she'd steal poor Hazel away in a heartbeat.

and to a lesser degree, we had some headcanons about everyone else...

Stella-Rebecca (the regina george, only nicer): - looks like a pillow princess, absolutely is a pillow princess. - into some crazy ass shit; things that the rest of the girls won't even search online for until they're at least twenty-five, married, and bored in their current intimacy lives.

Sylvie (let's crowdfund to get this girl some help): - looks like she'd be in charge, is also a pillow princess, but is completely unashamed to admit that she prefers receiving. - has been hooking up with Annie since the second meeting of fight club. only Hazel knows, but she isn't a snitch.

Annie (you fool nobody, you a freak my dear): - has been hooking up with Sylvia since the second meeting of fight club, when she very concerned about the girl's homelife asked her out for dinner to "talk" and then they ended up spending the entire night together, before they kissed and fooled around a little bit, and Annie told herself for the longest time she was only doing this to make Sylvie happy because the girl is wildly unhappy, only to realize that she's the unhappy one and Sylvie makes her happy. - doesn't know that Hazel knows about them. she aint a snitch.

and for extra bonus points... we had lots of feelings about this.

Jeff (i'm saying he counts, so there): - has never found THE spot, ever. - had to practice with Tim on how to take a bra off because he kept getting confused by all of the buckles and "why is there so many straps? why do they even need these things? can't i rip it? what if i just buy them a new bra after? okay fine." - genuinely does not realize that Mrs. Callahan's daughter Hazel goes to his school and knows his girlfriend, until he is confronted by them. - falls asleep thirty-six seconds after he finishes like a lazy ass.

[laytontheories]

In my previous post, I spoke about the brief blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment that gave Amelia Ruth more character development.

But in this post I'll discuss another character, one far less known or popular:

Frederick Bargland

(not to be confused with Frederick Beluga)

When it comes to characters from Eternal Diva, Frederick isn't exactly one that people remember fondly. He was shown to be rich and selfish and didn't care if other people got hurt, as long as he won the game.

But there are a few details that are often overlooked that add a lot more sympathy to his character.

Firstly, it is implied that Frederick has a terminal illness. It's never stated what it is, but he says that he only has six months to live. That's why he's willing to play the game for Eternal Life; he has nothing to lose if he fails the game.

Knowing this information changes the context of some of his scenes.

For example: The first time we see him he says that he was struggling to stay awake during Janice's performance. This could be due to him finding the show boring and wanting the game to start. Or it could possibly be because he is so unwell that he gets tired easy and struggles to stay awake. With only six months to live his body is probably very weak.

There are a few other hints to this as well, such as him being the most desperate to eat after the boat ride and he is often shown sitting whilst everyone else is standing.

(Whistler is sitting too but that's because he's depressed.)

When Frederick does lose the game, his reaction is completely different to those around him. While the others look scared about their fate, he just hangs his head in defeat. Even if Descole's men don't kill him, he knows he will die anyway. His last hope is gone.

His final appearance is during the credits, where he is seen in a hospital bed. It seems his condition has worsened. However, he seems happy. Perhaps he has accepted his fate and is enjoying what time he has left.

Annie is with him. They exchanged a few harsh words during the game, but it seems they are now friends. Annie even brought some of her books for him to read.

Is it just me, or does the illustration on the front of the books resemble the city of Ambrosia?

Perhaps Annie wrote a book about their adventure seeking Eternal Life and what they learned on the way. Frederick is reading it and can see that he will live forever, in the pages of Annie's book.

By the time Miracle Mask takes place, Frederick has almost certainly passed away. While he didn't gain Eternal Life, he was able to make a close friend and found out what it really means to live forever. So I think he got a good ending after all.

Also, he gave us one of the best reaction GIFs from the entire series.

[nightserf]

Idk why there are so many people being extremely critical of Gunnerkrigg on here, but if you haven't sat down and read the story again from start to now, I hope you do. The pacing issues are very minor. Tony's arc is more legible now that it doesn't take months irl to experience.

Also, on Tony, please just consider him as a character and a force in Annie's life. Think about her feelings, big picture. Her mother died and she was sent to the Court all alone. He is her only parent left, and he abandoned her during grief. He is a personnl that was truly close to her mother and they both clearly miss her very badly.

He is neurodivergant and traumatized. He is not a good father, but he clearly wants to try but is struggling with himself. He keeps making mistakes and doesn't know how to reintegrate in her life, especially as her primary parent, but clearly shows growth. He returns Renard, he reads about her work as a medium and realizes he was wrong to not support her. He is starting to realize that she has grown up and become her own person, and he wants to know and support that person. I think Annie sees that and appreciates that.

He was very harsh to her, and that was never acceptable. His own trauma and mental health issues got the worst of him, and it was horribly cruel. But life goes on, and characters arcs continue. People have complicated, imperfect bonds with people, especially parents. I know people who are still in contact with mentally ill parents who will never be good parents because that is their choice to make.

I hated Tony when I first read it, especially how long it felt when being first released. It brought up painful feelings about my own estranged parent as well. But I've listened to Toms recaps of these chapters and thought about Tony. He shows growth, he stands up to Eglamore and says he believes Annie is capable. He asks her to live with him. He allows her makeup again (and it was cruel to ever take it away and not justified. but also it was probably very painful to see Annie wearing it.) and accepts her help with his hand. He is clearly trying and Annies reactions to him make sense for her character. I don't think it's an aspect of the story that is unrealistic, poorly written, or badly paced at all. Especially rereading GC through as an adult (as opposed to a college freshman) had really shifted my perspectives.

Gunnerkrigg is an extremely thoughtful story packed with great explorations of reality, the world, and people. The intense negativity I see here is just surprising and unwarranted.