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rocketmuse · 3 years

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I thought I'd share my playlist for the anniversary of the boathouse kiss. :)

Song translations, MANY thoughts, and timeline under the break.

Noise warning for song 19, Hinahanap-Hanap Kita. 4:23 to the end. Loud high pitched beeps.

YouTube music version to be made soon.

Translations for foreign songs:

Ewan [Dunno] — Apo Hiking Society — Filipino/Tagalog

Amour plastique [Plastic love] — Videoclub — French

Panalangin [Prayer] — Apo Hiking Society/Moonstar88 — Filipino/Tagalog

Hinahanap-Hanap Kita [I'm Looking For You] — Rivermaya — Filipino/Tagalog

This is a collaborative playlist made with my friend.

Thought Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy would be a good starter song. Something about the music. Represents a good start of Alec persuing Maurice, like, hey, I can be yours... Whatcha doin'?

I added Puppy Princess because of the chorus but I know some people don't like that song so... You can skip if you'd like. KISS MEEEEE KIISS ME WITH YIIR EYESSS CLOSED . ALL I WANT IS YOU YEAH YOU. TELL ME I'M NOT FUNNY TELL ME I'M LEGIIIIT

Ewan. OH MY GOD this song is so them. Alec cares for Maurice, and doesn't like not being taken seriously or being treated badly and brushed off.

"I don't know why you're like that, you're difficult to talk to and you're a snob" COME ON IS THAT NOT THEM — Just a smile from you, and I'll be in heaven. Please give me a response, anything but "No idea"... What a perfect representation of Alec's continuous persuit of Maurice, always talking, always trying...

I could go on with every lyric.

Edit: I just realised this song fits so well for Alec's letters and meeting at the museum. Must resist the urge to add the same exact track twice.

So about Touch Me... Some of the lyrics apply better in other versions. Spotify just has this version tho. Touch me, just like that.

All I've Ever Known. Maurice discovered so much that night about touch and sharing and being with someone. He wants to be with Alec. "All I've ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you too. [Hold you close, I don't wanna ever have to let you go. Hold you tight, I don't wanna to back to the lonely life.]" Alec opened up his eyes and he'll never be the same.

Can't Help Falling in Love With You. 'Did you ever dream you'd a friend, Alec? ... Someone to last your whole life...' 'Alec, you're a dear fellow and we've been very happy.'

I'd Like To Walk Around In Your Mind was added from Maurice's perspective. Perhaps it fits Alec too...

I think Love At First Sight has the double meaning of the literal title, as well as "wouldn't you like to kiss her" perhaps being... Something Maurice would hear.

I Don't Dance. Based on this post/edit. Please watch this video oh my God.

Pink in the Night. Alec yearns for Maurice in the boathouse. He hasn't come. He hears his heart breaking tonight.

Every lyric is perhaps pulled straight from Alec's brain, to be honest. I remember seeing a post with this song in other contexts with them too. So yes, a few meanings.

Amour plastique. Alec reminiscences on the night in the Russet room. Why hasn't he come?

In my mind, everything goes wild. I lose myself in your eyes. I drown myself in the vagueness of your loving gaze.

And at night I cry tears that stream down my cheeks. I think of you only when the days ends, only when my sad demons descend upon my mind, into the bottomless abyss.

Waiting in the boathouse at night, when the day ends.

I ring out in kisses all down your chest. Lost in the avalanche of my heart astray. Who are you? Where are you?

The moments of then repeat in his mind. Where is Maurice?

I suppose Hopelessly Devoted To You and I'm A Fool To Want You are self explanatory. Maurice should really come... Alec really toughed it out, 2 days he spent in the boathouse, really wanted to see Maurice, really knew they had something, and doesn't want to be treated like a dog. Generally, his 1st letter.

Moon Song. My friend said they added it as a general love song. — Why do you treat me like this? Why didn't you come to the boathouse? — Alec's 2nd letter as a whole. Plus bits of 1st.

And you pushed me in, and now my feet can't touch the bottom of you. ... So I will wait for the next time you want me, like a dog with a bird at your door.

Ewan would fit here tbh.

Panalangin. My only prayer in this lifetime: to be beside you, to be together with you, that's my prayer.

"I since cricket match do long to ... place both arms round you and share with you, the above now seems sweeter than words can say."

And this heart won't allow if you will be away from me, my love, please listen.

It also fits the end of museum.

I Want You. Maurice, can you come to the boathouse already? Alec has no power to teleport you there. I hold one card that I can't use.

I found you. I found the door, but when I stepped through, there was no floor. He found Maurice, bit he's not being here for Alec.

You're coming back And it's the end of the world We're starting over And I love you, darling And I am done, dear

Alec wishes this would happen. Also, he does come back later and they love again over, and "it is finished".

Credit for suggesting the next two songs goes to @beatle-capaldi!!! He also wrote was in quotations!

English Summer Rain

The Most Radical Thing To Do

Hinahanap-Hanap Kita. 1st letter, he's looking for Maurice. Thinking about them together.

In my thoughts and dreams, in every turn of destiny, I look for you. Also applies to that hotel/post-hotel feeling. I look for you, even if I try to forget you, saying goodbye, looking back...

Wildest Dreams. They think a lot of each other. They share once more. But they must say goodbye. Alec saw this coming. Maurice hopes that Alec will remember him like this.

I Hear a Symphony. Alec truly opened up Maurice's eyes. Maurice was meant to be with him. He helped Maurice, changed his life. But now Alec is leaving on ship... Or is he? The symphony leads into...

An orchestral sountrack. The Boathouse. Unfortunately the Maurice soundtrack is not on spotify. It's on my personal YouTube music version. I added it because it just captures the boathouse the only way the sountrack itself can.

The Word of Your Body (Reprise). MLM people have moment of romantic tension, which culminates in confessions of love. Just had to add it. "Haven't you heard the word of your body?" perfectly describes Alec gifting and showing Maurice the wonder of truest physical affection and love. He lets Maurice be okay with himself, and again, changes everything. Every lyric is perfect.

Also, sorry JBW, I like other versions more... Too bad Spotify is mean.

I See The Light. Yeah. Every lyric. Maurice is Rapunzel. Movie Blond too. Both the morning at Russet room and the museum. And the world has somehow shifted. All at once everything is different, now that I see you. "By now they were in love with each other consciously."...

Suddenly Seymour. Suddenly see more, yeah? Clive = ass and someone gives him affection for once, wow! Sidenote, I want to sing this with them and their accents... Suddenly SCUDDER...

Helpless. Musical theatre songs seem to be good retellings of their love story. It's why they belong in post boathouse. Summaries and retellings. They're also good at conveying love they'd feel for each other in general, all times ever. Like loving men, retelling a story.

I'll Cover You. Cute love song feat. gays. I like to imagine them dancing around, declaring their love and devotion for each other. Walking and dancing around like in the original scene, sometime post canon. In my own imagination, I thought of Alec as Angel and Maurice (Christopher) as Collins.

Video Games. They must love spending time together. I thought this to be Maurice POV. Only worth living if somebody is loving you I mean, come on.

It's you, it's you, it's all for you. Everything I do. I tell you all the time, heaven is a place on Earth with you.

Un sospiro. I headcanon that Maurice picks up the piano and plays for Alec. Perhaps he picked it up bc of/after Clive, but now can play it for someone who gives a shit.

Something about the melody reminds me of them. And then it gets more intense... A bit like the passions of love, showing up in sharing and touch and more, too.

Liebestraum. I mean, it means love dream/dream of love. I just had to. Also I just like Liszt.

Take Me Up With You, Dearie. This song is just so sweet... So soft... Edwardian to boot... I love how quintessentially 1909 it is. Discovered it in a YT video. The thought of them getting married makes me cry. This song in general makes me want to cry, it's so romantic, tender, and exudes my favourite era...

Let us float, float, float through the clouds, and just have a lot of fun. We'll go up, up, up as two and then come down as one.

Put Your Head on My Shoulder. We Belong Together. I always imagine Maurice and Alec slowdancing to songs that come on the radio together, when the 1950s hits... Alec probably rests his head on his shoulder as this plays and they dance...

I'm using a lot of ellipses, am I secretly Rupert Graves?

Welcome to the 70s and 80s. They love dancing together and being with each other. Now, Panalangin can be a happy song. My only prayer for this lifetime ... To be together with you. And this heart won't allow if you will be away from me.

Just the Two of Us. What a nice, vibey song. Great title, great scenario of them dancing to this...

Tiny Dancer. Your Song. MLM people in the 70s + Radio, being happy and in love with each other. — I just thought I should add some Elton. A different friend, and I, like him. Maurice sings to Alec, "And you can tell everybody this is your song." That I put down in words how wonderful life is with you in the world.

Electric Love. Fun fact: this song got me to share the playlist. Got me thinking about them and their anniversary again. The funky busy instrumental describes well their passionate love. The highs of electric LOOOOOOVE describe the intensity of them.

Alt text continued: themselves together under and the love. And the love. The song has its own tension and it perfectly pictures their own tension. So yeah, this is THEIR song quite literally.

Sorry if my music taste is perhaps basic. I just made it for when I hear songs that are Them.

Falling for Ya. Alec falls for Maurice. "I saw you when you first drove up, Mr Hall..." Something about Maurice, right? Plus really nice vintage vibes with the music. The bit about Into your arms and it's a secure sure sounds like Maurice. Awh, they're falling for *each other*...

Rainbow Connections. Gay and bi people. Marriage. Everything that Maurice and Alec went through to get here, where they were meant to be. Clive. Working for Clive. Leading up to now.

All the things that had to go right, all the things that had to go wrong, that lead us to the place where we were going all along.

On the YT version there's a soft/jazzy cover of Panalangin here. Because they're old and spending time together and being happy. What a throwback, a defined meaning in their lives over time.

Still Into You. After all these decades... Old and grown, together... True soulmates... Two men can defy the world... Maurice and Alec still roam the greenwood. Imagine Maurice meeting Alec's mom in this context. If only.

Postmodern Jukebox cover, because they are a quintessentially 20th century couple. They exude vintage.

Some piano playing for Alec. Soft, tender, romantic, emotional, true. Feels like nighttime. Feels like Maurice and Alec. And a throwback to the pre 1914 world as well. Claire de Lune feels like... A credits of life piece. Time spent in the early 1980s. Nocturne feels like that too, but more romantic. Smidge less nighttime. Ah yes, Gymnopédies. The truest credits feel of them all. None of these actually are credits for Maurice and Alec, but I struggle to find the word for this feeling. But yeah. These all have Them vibes to me. Piano of the time just does I suppose. Glad to be reminded of them at any time.

What a long playlist. Like going through almost their whole lives together. 1:52 hrs. Almost like a movie. Imagine that. A full movie of THEIR lives... But leaving to the imagination was a good thing. Led to this such action. Thank you E.M. Forster.

Timeline:

1. Pendersleigh

4. & 5. Russet Room. Night, then Morning

9. Cricket

10. Boathouse Nights

18. The Museum

20. The Hotel

21. After

23. The Boathouse

24. They Still Roam the Greenwood

I just like to imagine them dancing to songs on the radio, for decades to come...

#maurice 1987 #maurice 1914 #maurice #maurice hall #alec scudder #Spotify

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johannstutt413 · 2 years

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Mmm... what do you think of Swire ship dynamics outside the obvious LGD pairs?

I know you said outside the obvious LGD pairings...but I'm going to need to include them for scale :P. (Also, DYK there are 31 Swire-tagged fics and 23 BP fics? Compared to 48 Gummy, 43 Zima, 36 Rosa, and 31 Istina? Some of those would be doubled up, and some of them aren't about ships at all, but...again, for scale.)

Swire has a lot more story-time than BP; as a crucial background NPC for The Ch'en Arc, she played a role in the main story chapters of Arknights - the story we've basically been telling since the release of the game, in fact, since we spent a solid 4ish chapters in Lungmen doing Lungment shit.

And ya wanna guess how much of that characterization lands in my primary sources, aka the characters' bios provided by the game itself? NOT ENOUGH, DAMNIT.

There are definitely characters who are worse victims of this - Amiya, Ch'en, Kal'tsit - and there are some characters who have basically no characterization (...yet?) outside of their bios, but I can't have the entire story of this game open when I write these, damnit! If I could, and meaningfully process that information, either a) fics would come out even slower than they do now, or b) I'd turn into a creature completely incomprehensible to my current state of being: someone who fully knows the lore of something. (I'm riding on, like, educated headcanons to do this shit, because this shares my space with seven bajillion other interests :/ .) So, what we get is a mix of "what the in-game bios say, as recorded by sites that compile those," "hey this one site summarizes the plots of the individual chapters and events and shit! I can use this as reference material!" and "...alright so what's cute/cool/funny/hot||what is actually reaching my mind right now?"

Which, to bring it back to Swire, is a girl who is very fluffy, very huggable, very omigod-lemme-snuggle-this-Feline-already-why-are-you-bringing-out-the-cuffs-hang-on-let's-talk-about-this. Someone who can be pretty haughty and snobbish but also super caring, that princess who could very easily be a tsundere-type, a deredere-type, a himedere-type, or just someone who does a lot of work and needs someone to make her life easier at home. Versatile, again, but with some pretty clear directions to it.

Speaking of directions:

Talulah: Real talk - I would put Talulah higher if I only had to get Swire onto the Rhodes Island craft; unfortunately, there's also the problem of Chapter 9, which tells me that a) Talulah isn't even on the boat anymore, and b) even if she was, she's not there to get a girl. Redeemed!Talulah, one who's both remorseful and rehabilitate(d/able), is a better ship than Canon!Ch'en, but as things stand...this isn't going to happen either. Does it make a fantastic story, though? Sure does!

Miss Ch'en: Oh, Ch'en, heeeey. Real talk - by the end of Chapter 8, this is not a ship I really see sailing anytime soon, mostly because the Dossoles event showed us where these two are at. Ch'en is officially a full-time Rhodes Island agent now, completely an Operator operating under our auspicious main-character-collecting auspices, and Swire is still a heavily-worked LGD employee alongside Hoshiguma (we'll get back to her). They're just not on the same wavelength and never really have been, but now there's plenty of distance to keep it from happening...

If we ignore these facts, though? It's a rivals-to-lovers ship that's totally sensible and a source of amusement for various RI/LGPD folks. Without those tidbits of information? Sail-worthy. With it though? Sunk.

Non-Lungmenite RI Employees (Doctor included): There's a pretty clear break in canon to get this done (the whole "have to have Swire on the ship" thing), but once you get her on-board, the right situations could put her in contact with all kinds of people who meet the shipper-mandated need for companionship I as the writer feel and impose on the shipped (not apologetic about that, either, just maybe a little guilty). This is a catch-all for, at minimum, all the really cute fics I've written with characters that, without RI, would never interact with her - the Doctor, bears, Ptilopsis, Gavial, Jackie, the list goes on, and will no doubt continue to expand.

Non-Hoshi Lungmenites: Three people, specifically - Shaw, ShiraYuki, and Bison (hey, look, male characters! They're real!) - who come to mind as ships I've written and been quite happy with the thought of. Shaw, ShiraYuki, and Swire could all reasonably know each other as agents of the government (police, fire dept., agent of the mayor's wife - not too distant circles in a game like this), and combined with the looser environment of the Rhodes Island craft where they're spending time together (because for anything that isn't Swire/Hoshi this lil' suspension of disbelief will have to carry us some distance), love could totally blossom. Bison's on this list because he's lived in Lungmen and is also a fairly-wealthy-young-person, but he might be a bit too young? I'm kind of iffy on his actual age - how old do you have to be to intern in Terran Lungmen? No idea, but if he's old enough to be the voice of reason in the situation he's in, he's old enough to be shipped.

Hoshiguma. Look, as far as I'm concerned? This is canon. I shit you not, the way she and Bea interact in the Dossoles event? That's the good shit right there. If it's not canon, after Ch'en sliced a corner out of Hanya and left her at-the-time most promising ship in Hoshi behind with the swag-cat (to differentiate her from the other money-cats in Arknights), it's by far the easiest to connect the dots for...as much as it pains me because that means I have to admit neither of them would match with the Doctor as easily, and I am a major Hoshiguma simp...c'est la vie.

Man I hope these posts aren't "too long" for Tumblr when that update comes around, cuz I don't have these backed up :D. (unlike the fics, which are safe and sound in cloud storage...yeah...totally safe...) So, tl;dr, outside of the LGD ships, you can make quite a bit work just by getting her out to Rhodes Island and setting up circumstances right, but Shaw, ShiraYuki, and Bison have a little home-field advantage, and Hoshi's basically fucking canonical which I love but wish Hoshi was real whenever I think about her so YMMV.

#non-fic arknights #fanfic writer's understanding of characters #god i want them to sandwich me #'who?' yes #'what?' you know #'no seriously-' just think about it for a second #'...gotcha' thank you

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katnissmellarkkk · 4 years

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Gravity

Hi! Okay, so here’s chapter two of my growing back together story, inspired by the prompt “I won’t hurt you” @rosegardeninwinter sent me. I also posted this fic on AO3 under the title Gravity (like the Sara Bareilles song), if that’s where you prefer to read. And here’s a link to chapter one of this fic if you wanna read and haven’t yet.

Also I know I said in my first author’s note that there will be three chapters, but there might be a bit more.... we love an over-writer, right? 🤷🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

I don’t know if you’re “supposed” to post every part of a multi chapter fic on here? Or just post the link to it on AO3? But for now I posted it in its entirety on here 😊.

Anyways, hope you like it! And thanks to anyone who reads! 💖💖💖

A couple months later.

We slide back after that. I don't know if that night-the night he had a nightmare that I died and we slept locked in each other's embrace-moved too quickly for Peeta or if he thought he was protecting me from him, but when morning light came, he was gone from the bed.

I didn't see him again until the following evening, helping Haymitch feed his rambunctious geese in the yard. He didn't speak to me for four more days after that, and when he did, it was to ask what kind of bread I wanted him to bring for lunch the next day.

I pretended to his face that it didn't hurt. That waking up in a cold, empty bed, in a house he all but abandoned until I had evacuated, that sleeping in his arms and awaking so abruptly alone, didn't hurt. I did what I had taught myself to do as a child and I turned my features into an indifferent mask, shutting off all access to my emotions. Destroying any possibility of anyone witnessing my vulnerabilities.

But I knew deep down, it did hurt. It hurt badly.

I didn't speak to him directly the first week he showed up for lunch and to work on the memory book again. I got by fine without addressing him directly, as Haymitch somehow sensed the bubbling tension between us and stayed sober just enough to remain alert for all our shared meals. He helped with the memory book, helped by adding in a snarky comment here or there to reel our focuses onto him instead of each other.

I wanted to say thank you but I never knew how. I doubt Haymitch needs me to verbalize it anyway. One night, as he follows behind Peeta to leave, his hand grazes my shoulder and gives it a squeeze and I know he's much more aware of the dynamic between his old tributes than he leads on.

But weeks after the night in question, the night that set Peeta and my friendship back months, we receive a telegraph from Effie. A telegraph that shakes the small amount of stability we've managed to build in the time since the war.

Apparently President Paylor has decided to move forward with arena destruction, an idea mentioned a few times by Plutarch on Caesar's talk show. An idea I didn't take seriously until now.

Paylor has decided to build a memorial for each of the arenas, for each year the games ever took place, to immortalize our history, so Panem can never forget how cruel and inhumane things once were. But first, she wants to eliminate the actual Hunger Games arenas, once and for all, before putting the memorials in their place.

My initial thought, months ago when Delly showed me Plutarch and Caesar discussing the idea, was that this would takes years to happen.

I was, once again, so clearly wrong. The plans have been expedited and the order in which each arena will be decimated has been swiftly decided.

All that alone doesn't sound terrible. I'd like to see those death pits crushed, burned, torn down, eradicated, or all of the above, by any means necessary. Only downside, initially, is that this will extend me—and Peeta and potentially all the other victors—remaining in the forefront of the public's mind.

Since the war, all I've ever wanted was for everyone in the country to forget who I am. I don't want to be known anymore. I just want to be left alone, to a quiet and peaceful and relatively simple life, without anyone ever recognizing me again. Without anyone thinking of me as the girl on fire, as the Mockingjay, as the sixteen-year-old who volunteered for a sister who was doomed to death anyway.

But, of course, there's a catch. There's always a catch.

Plutarch thinks it would be great to have the living victors be there—televised—in the Capitol and see the arenas before they're bulldozed.

Even with this dreadful proposition, I thought I had time to think of a way out of it. When Effie first sent the telegraph, I thought that I would have years before having to worry about going back to the places where my nightmares started.

Well, some of my nightmares, that is.

After all, it takes time to destroy something as large and as vast as an arena-excluding the way I destroyed the one in the Quell, that is. I figured-I rationalized, really-that by the time they got to number Seventy-Four, I would have a solid excuse to get out of attending.

I guess though they wished to start with the big years and the first decade of the Hunger Games wasn't very eventful, apparently—lucky them—so the first arena they wish to bid farewell to is the one from the second Quarter Quell. The Fiftieth Hunger Games. The one that was so strikingly beautiful and almost entirely poisonous.

The year Haymitch Abernathy, from the lowly District Twelve, won.

And being also from Twelve, my presence, along with Peeta's, suddenly became of the utmost importance as well.

At first, I still try to opt out of the event. Even after Effie chastises me over the phone, like not a day has passed since she was my escort, and even after my mother claims in her letter that it could be cathartic for me, I do not relent.

Delly and Thom and a few of the others in the community, like Kanon who runs the candy shop two stores away from the bakery, and Greta, who helps with the dusting and mopping all over town, try to say that it could be good for me. Greasy Sae claims it can't be worse than actually living through the games, and I silently appreciate her much more blatant statement than the comforting platitudes others try to provide me.

But it all falls on deaf ears in the end.

Because the only person I truly listen to is Peeta. Even bitter and wounded, the only person I really hear is him.

Unfortunately, as irritating as it is sometimes, his voice will always reach me when others can't.

But we don't ever have an actual conversation about it. Five days after Effie calls to announce the news, to tell me unequivocally that my presence is requested, Peeta sways me to go with just a look.

He comes over later than usual and brings extra bread and pastries to go with the deer meat I hunted. We feast silently, the air between us still incredibly awkward, when, without warning, our old mentor comes crashing through the door unceremoniously.

I don't know how much alcohol he consumed, but it's enough to knock even someone with Haymitch's tolerance off his feet.

By the end of the hour, the older man is practically beating his head into the wall of my dining room, screaming the names of dead children and about force fields and axes. And from across the kitchen table, Peeta touches my arm—the first time he's voluntarily touched me in weeks—and my eyes meet his, blue pouring into gray, and silently he begs me to go for the goodbye ceremony to Haymitch's arena.

And I give in. Not just for him. But also, in large part, to repay the caustic, miserable drunk that kept us alive. To support the unpredictable, temperamental man that I do consider my family somehow.

The ceremony is set to take place weeks later and the time does little to alleviate my anxiety. Peeta and me still don't speak much, but come time for lunch or dinner, there he is, in my house like clockwork.

When I point out, a few days before we're due at the train station, that there's a very realistic possibility that the Capitol won't let me go to the ceremony, Peeta casually says, "I already cleared that with Effie and Plutarch."

I shoot him a look of surprise. "You did?"

Shrugging nonchalantly before turning back to the rabbit on his plate, he murmurs quietly, "Thought it'd give you one less thing to worry about."

The ceremony is nothing like I expect. Somehow I figured there would be an obnoxiously large television crew, loud speakers, prepared speeches on written cards, awkward directions and crowds upon crowds of people surrounding us, asking pointed questions, shooting invasive stares and pressing for reactions to their nosy accusations. I expected those accusations to be directed at me and Peeta especially.

Instead, there's none of those things. There's no crowd at all, it's just us victors. Just Enobaria, Johanna, Annie, the three of us from Twelve and Beetee—who I still can't make myself so much as look at, reminded of my sister's absence and his role in it every time we so much as stand in five feet vicinity of each other.

The camera crew consists of Mitchell, Pollux and Cressida, along with two unfamiliar, but seemingly non-threatening faces. There's no directions, no prompting, not close ups or reshoots.

All that happens is Paylor makes a statement that the crew films, stating that the arenas will be destroyed one by one, and in the place of each there will be an individual memorial made, as we victors stand in an unorganized, crooked line that will surely make Effie cringe when she sees the footage on television later.

It's almost peaceful, I think to myself in surprise, as I look around at the location. The sky is a stunning cobalt, even more brilliant in person than in the video Peeta and I watched on the train so long ago. The meadow looks like the grass is fresh, like it was just watered yesterday. The mountain is so breathtaking I have to physically tear my eyes away from it and even the woods look rather cozy. Or maybe that part is just me.

There's also arraignments of flowers, just like in the footage we watched, that spill every which way, filling our noses with soothing, floral scents. It feels unnatural to say about a place set up for murder, but with the deadly poisons lurking at every turn eviscerated, I almost can find this arena truly beautiful.

Of course though, it's not my arena.

It's Haymitch's and he looks like he's about to be sick. He's white-knuckled it for a few days without any sort of drink—to my, Peeta's and, even Effie's, visible shock—and I can see plainly now that he's absolutely regretting it. His eyes are hallow and wild at the same time and I can see his shaking palms beneath the sleeves of his jacket as he stares out at the source of his every nightmare for the last quarter century.

It shocks me that he didn't find a way out of this. Actually, it shocks me still that these ceremonies are even possible.

I never knew they kept arenas after the games were over each year. I never realized they kept all seventy-four death pits, haunted by child sacrifice, the way you keep old vases on a shelf.

At this point though, it's just another thing to add onto the growing list of horrific and unthinkable issues that the Capitol doesn't even grasp. Keeping the haunted graveyards of children as souvenirs shouldn't sit right with anyone, I don't care how you're raised.

I tell myself to not be so quick to judge, as I can't know who I'd be if I had been born in the Capitol instead of the districts. Still, the idea of condoning the things they have without remorse or shame seems unthinkable.

I'm torn out of my thoughts when Cressida speaks. "Is there anything you'd like to say, Haymitch, before we finish filming?"

Once again, catching me off-guard entirely—he's full of all sorts of surprises evidently—Haymitch clears his throat and looks down at his leather boots before speaking. "Ardor. Garnett. Dolan. Silver. Ryker. Artemis. Slayte. Pistol. Lex. Mac. Lumen. Gig. Brook. Aqua. Mary. Ripley. Lyme. Watt. Rocky. Gio. Belle. Raven. Kia. Mecko. Barker. Jack. Holly. Briar. Essie. Stitch. Coco. Paul. Mira. Miller. Coop. Harvey. Butch. Cutter. Bea. Skinna. Basil. Sunny. Rip. Spring. Oaker. Terra. Maysilee." He lists off the names in a way that is so matter-of-fact that it would almost be robotic if it weren't for the hoarseness in his tone that grows stronger with every name he utters. He hesitates for only a moment before adding, "Corentine. Alannah. Alastar."

There's a long stretch of silence, where no one speaks, no one blinks, no one even breathes. We all know instinctively who these people are—I know solely from Maysilee Donner's name being called—but we still wait until Haymitch speaks again, to confirm our assumption.

"Those are the names of all the people this arena killed." His eyes grow glassy and his brow furrows in anger as he fights desperately to repress his emotions, and suddenly I have the strangest urge to hug my mentor, to make him feel better like he tried to do for me once when Peeta was stuck in the Capitol and I was distraught. But I know it wouldn't be appreciated or wanted, and quite honestly I'm glad for that, because I don't even know what to say.

The last three names Haymitch said stick in my head for some reason I can't explain other than an odd gut feeling. But then he speaks again, an in a voice growing gruffer by the second, he says right into the camera, "that's every single person who was killed because of the second Quarter Quell."

And, like I should have known all along, it hits me the last three names are the names of his family who were murdered to punish him for the stunt with the forcefield.

The last three names are the murders of the last people he loved. Until me and Peeta came along.

As if his thoughts matched mine, Haymitch suddenly shakes his head and his eyes widen again as he stares past all the rest of us, as he continues to take in the exact place in which life as he knew it, twenty-six years ago, was altered forever.

His reaction is more understandable and genuine than I imagined he would ever allow it to be, especially on camera, and I want to say something but me and him both aren't good at saying anything, and I find myself looking to Peeta, hoping he'd know what to do.

Peeta doesn't meet my gaze though. He's solely focused on our mentor and just when he opens his mouth to speak, the older man to suddenly shake his head in our general direction and clears his throat.

"I'm done. Tell Plutarch I'm done with this crap. Just hurry up and bulldoze this place so I can go back to Twelve," is all he says to Cressida as he storms off, but his voice is rough and caustic once again, and I can only hope he recovers from this event soon enough.

Somehow, witnessing Haymitch relive his games, even through the shield he so obviously puts up to the outside world, triggers me though. For some reason, I feel my eyes begin to water as I look around at the meadow, at the mountain, at the golden cornucopia, and wonder how anyone could build a place where kids would eventually go to die? How could anyone have ever been so inhumane? How could a country just accept it? How did we live for so long with the Hunger Games overtaking our lives and still remained complicit? I don't understand. The more time passes, the more days I'm separated from the war and from the old world and the old way of life, I just can't comprehend anymore how we ever lived in a place so horrific.

I feel my eyes spill over and I'm grateful that Cressida has stopped filming already, because if Plutarch saw any tears on film, he would make certain it ended up on television.

I wipe my tears with the heel of my hand, trying to go about it as subtly as I can, hoping no one else notices. For the most part, I'm golden. Enobaria is already exiting, with Beetee following not far behind. Jo's back is to me while she speaks to Annie, though as per usual, she seems to be irritated.

Of course, it's too much to ask for everyone to remain oblivious to my waterworks. Even as I rid myself of them before they become widely noticeable, I feel Peeta's eyes train on me and know, despite the distance between us for the last few weeks, he isn't going to ignore my upset.

To my surprise though, he doesn't speak. He doesn't utter a single syllable.

Instead, I feel his large, warm palm slip into mine and squeeze tightly, lacing our fingers together, in a way we have done thousands of times before. Like two puzzle pieces coming together to complete a picture, like two indivisible teammates that will fight against anything that is thrown their way, like two halves of a whole finally finding each other, his hand grasps mine with a vengeance and I know I won't be the one who let's go.

He's still holding my hand when we board the train, hours later.

A couple weeks later.

"Yes, Mrs. Greenstead, I will get the chocolate nut loaf and a platter of the cranberry cookies wrapped up for you... Yes, it will be ready by the time you arrive... No, I promise they won't be cold," Peeta assures through the bakery telephone—a new addition that Thom and his wife thought was necessary to run a proper bakery. So necessary they bought it for Peeta as an opening gift.

It's not that the gesture wasn't nice or that Peeta didn't deeply appreciate it. I personally saw that he did, wholeheartedly.

But seeing it on the wall every day was just another reminder to me of my own personal vendetta against the integration between the Capitol's way of life and the districts'.

The only place telephones used to exist, outside of the Capitol limits, was the houses in Victor's Villiage, and if I'm being honest, I wish it would have stayed that way.

Maybe I'm being selfish, as I happen to still reside inside a house that once belonged to the said village, therefore I already had experienced this luxury prior to the new world. But I just can't make myself break the association between the items that had recently become readily available for all and the horror that was the Capitol.

Still though, the change was inescapable Telephones, cameras, heating pads, curling irons, quick bake ovens, cars and so many other items, were all growing in popularly across each district. Not that I was able to see a lot of these changes personally. But letters from Annie and my mom, and the occasional—unprompted and yet still begrudged—call from Jo, all kept me informed. Sometimes more informed than I wished to be.

Maybe I would feel entirely different if these inventions were brand new to me. But they aren't. I'd seen and used every one of them before. Their novelty had always been lost on me, perhaps because my only experience them was while inside the Capitol, surrounded by tacky colors and strong rose scents and itchy materials, headed for a death match, my life and the lives of those I cared always at great risk.

Of course, the new item in the bakery did make some things easier. Days like today are a perfect example.

Harvest Day is only one day away and everyone is coming in for their breads and their desserts. Peeta says it was always one of the most popular days, for as long as he can remember. Only difference is, before the war only Peacekeepers and town folks could afford to purchase anything. And generally, most citizens who even did come in, could only purchase a limited amount of items.

Not now. I don't know where everyone in Twelve was coming up with the money or if Peeta's prices are just a drastic drop from that of his mother's, but today, I swear I've seen every citizen in town inside the bakery.

Makes me glad that the portrait of me is hanging in the back, where no one else can see it. As pretty as it may be, as talented as Peeta is, I don't want a giant version of me displayed for all to see.

"Here you are," I politely say, handing two loaves of warm bread to a man who must be new to Twelve, as I've never seen him before. I'm debating on asking if he moved here recently when he passes a bill to me over the top of the pastry display.

"Thank you, hon." He smiles at me, looking at me a little too closely for my liking, as he swiftly walks out the door. His exit is met with the arrival of Val, a boy Peeta and I went to school with, who definitely was more Peeta's crowd than mine.

Val is a regular customer at the bakery, having always genuinely liked the Mellark family. His parents owned a small carpentry shop four spaces down from the bakery, and even with both them dead, he and his two sisters rebuilt the store, taking over their parents' legacy.

Peeta though is more focused on me now than Val's order. "Give me a second," he calls to his old friend, a little less polite than he had been all morning. "Katniss, what's wrong?" He asks urgently, seeing the look in my eyes.

I shake my head and push away the anxiety threatening to close in on me. "Nothing, just..." I hesitate, not even wanting to say it. Peeta's gaze refuses to lessen though and I sigh before finally mumbling, "That guy. He creeped me out. The way he was looking at me so closely..."

Peeta's hand touches my arm for a brief moment before pulling it away, making it obvious that he regrets the small act of even so much as touching me. But his words are still calming and they relax me a little. "He's gone now, Katniss. And if he scares you, I won't let him come back, okay? There's nothing anyone can do to you or me anymore. We're safe."

I nod, knowing the words like the back of my hand at this point, as it's the same mantra we always repeat to each other, every time one of us begins to panic or flail. But still, I open my mouth to refuse his offer. I don't want Peeta to turn away any sort of business. Not with the unpredictability and uncertainty this new world still rests on. We never know if the bakery will sell anything tomorrow or if all sort of income will soon dry up.

And we're the lucky ones, financially speaking, who were rich before the war and allowed—in a generous declaration by President Paylor—to keep the entirety of our money after. I don't have to imagine the anxiety others in the country must be in, knowing the curse of poverty all too well. I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone.

"I don't want you to turn away people," I say quietly. "Not on my account. You need business to keep this place afloat."

"I have plenty of money, Katniss," he reminds me, a little darker than I expect. "And I'd rather you feel safe than own a popular shop."

His words unexpectedly touch me, unexpectedly cut right down to the depth of my bones, exposing my soft underbelly. I'm about to do something stupid, like touch his hand, when Val makes his presence known again. "Your shop is already the most popular in the district," he points out, not even a little ashamed for having listened to our conversation. "And besides, why don't you just look at the guy's name? Maybe you can look him up, see if he's alright or not."

Peeta gets a glint in his eye. "That's a good idea, Val, thank you." As he moves towards the register to, I can only suppose, look for the man's receipt with his name and signature, he gestures to his school friend. "Katniss can get your order."

I shoot him a glare, only half kidding. I did come to help out, here and there, today but I did not intend to be an actual expected employee. For free, no less.

Instead of saying anything though, I just grab Val his three cinnamon rolls, his two snack cakes, four bagels, white chocolate donut and a loaf with raisins and cranberries.

Val, like Delly Cartwright, was always one of the few people in Twelve who had a few pounds to spare.

Peeta has a type of friend.

"Found it," Peeta now calls, bringing over a slip of paper to where I'm handing Val his three bags of treats. "His name was Rod Catamaran."

Me and Val, for the first time perhaps, exchange a look between us. "That's an odd name for Twelve."

"I've never even heard that name before."

"He may not even be from Twelve, guys," Peeta says.

I roll my eyes. "Because a bombed out district is really a tourist attraction."

"Hey, none of that," Thom calls as he walks through the front door of the bakery, with Kanon Bagley on his heels. "We've rebuilt this place beautifully and negativity is not appreciated here."

"Yeah, Katniss," Peeta chimes in, teasing me. I'm about to kick him in his only real leg, as we're the only two behind the counter and no one else will see, when Kanon speaks up.

"Can I buy a couple of pastries?"

"Of course," Peeta says kindly, walking around me to personally grab the two items Kanon requests.

Kanon is new to Twelve. One of the few new additions this place gained after all that went down. He's a large man in his early twenties, with dark skin and dark hair and eyes to match. But the only times I've ever interacted with him, he's quiet as a mouse, his eyes a little forlorn at all times and he offers more discounts then he should at the candy shop he recently opened next to the bakery.

He's from District Eleven originally and it takes no real critical thinking to realize he had a hard life, even before the war.

I'm far too familiar with the look of scars etched across the eyes. So is Peeta.

That's why, when Kanon looks down at the money in his hand and realizes he doesn't have enough to afford both pastries, Peeta immediately brushes it off. "That's okay, they're on the house," he instantly promises, handing the small bag over to Kanon with a gentle smile.

"No, I don't want to take it without-"

"I made way too much," Peeta insists, lying outright to make it appear Kanon would be doing him a favor. I know he didn't make too much, because we've been flying through everything today and keeping the ovens hot in case more is needed.

Still though, I back up the fib. "He did. We've been wondering all day how we were gonna sell enough stuff so we don't have to feed the leftovers to Haymitch's geese."

Kanon glances between us shyly, before taking the bag from Peeta's hand and slipping the few dollars he does have into his pocket again. "Thank you," he says softly and turns to leave.

Thom pats Kanon on the back as he passes him, before turning to follow. When the other man isn't looking, he turns back to us subtly and mouths, "thank you."

I wanted to tell him not to thank me. I only watched Peeta make this food, I didn't assist by any stretch of the imagination. I didn't own the bakery or do anything with the money or finances. It was not my choice to give things away for free.

But I'm far too focused on the boy in front of me to say any of that. The boy with the bread, the boy who isn't really a boy anymore. The boy who just gave away food for no reward at all, even on the most demanding and strenuous day all year for his business. The boy who just showed Kanon Bagley the same kindness I begged someone-anyone-to show me at eleven-years-old and not one single person did.

Except for him. He did for me all those years ago what he did for Kanon just now, and I suddenly have the most inexplicable, irrepressible urge to kiss Peeta right then and there, in the middle of the bakery.

I don't, however, and it's for once not because I lost my courage. It's because the door swings open again, just as Val exits right behind Kanon and Thom.

It's the same man from earlier. "Hi," Peeta greets, this time not at all sweet. Clearly recognizing the man as the one who made me nervous before. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," the man affirms, his tone brighter than you'd expect given our chilly reception. And our blatant wariness for anyone new. "I forgot to get a pecan butter cake before?"

There is a beat where me and Peeta exchange a look, before I awkwardly move towards the display case and begin to pack up his item. Peeta waits for me to decide to help the man before starting to ring him up.

"That was a nice thing you both just did," the man says as he patiently watches me fold the white waxy paper over his pastry. "For that guy."

"You were watching?" Is the only thing that comes out of my mouth.

"Only for a moment," he explains, his tone still friendly. Either he doesn't know how to read people at all or he's the most even keeled person in Panem.

Because I know I'm being rude, to a man who maybe doesn't even deserve it, I force myself to say one thing conversational. "This is my mom's favorite dessert," I offer, gesturing to his cake.

The man raises his eyebrows in an act that looks almost feigned. "Really?"

I instantly regret trying to be even slightly pleasant. Even his mannerisms seem fake. I'm contemplating if I should say anything else or go hide in the back room with the warm ovens and my portrait, when Peeta presses a button and the register dings.

He's about to say the total when the strange man shakes his head and hands to me directly an unfamiliar bill over the display case. "Have a nice day, you two," he calls, grabbing his cake and swiftly walking out.

It's not until he's gone, not until I have a moment to process the second weird encounter with the odd person, that I even glance down at the crisp bill he handed me.

It's a bill with a larger number on the back than I've ever personally seen before. I knew these kinds of dollars existed—I'm sure I could have gotten plenty after my first games—but I'd never seen one in the flesh.

Peeta sees my reaction. "What is it?" His voice sounds alarmed and he's stepping closer to me, but all I can do is gasp out his name.

"Peeta, look." I hold up the bill and point to the number on the back.

His eyes widen too, taking in the amount with a dizzy smile. Of both relief that nothing's wrong and excitement at the digit.

"Do you think it was a mistake?" I ask suddenly, looking over my shoulder towards the window, wondering if we should track the man down and give him his money back, before he evaporates into thin air.

"No?" Peeta shakes his head, the wheels in his mind turning quicker than mine. His face turns to that of elation, as the large bill takes some pressure off the bakery's sales. "No, he said he saw us give Kanon a break. He was giving us something in return."

I'm about to say something else, I don't even know what, but it all flies out of my head when Peeta suddenly wraps his arms around my waist and swiftly pulls me into his embrace.

My entire body goes into lockdown and hypervigilance at the same time. I can't move an inch but it feels like every nerve in my body is abruptly tingling and on fire.

My sweater lifts up slightly and his bare arms graze my lower back, eliciting a shiver to run involuntarily down my spine as his face buries into my hair.

I wrap my arms around his neck after a beat when I can make myself move again, and I feel him smile against my skin. I'm so glad at that moment he's holding me up, because if he wasn't supporting my weight I'd probably crash to the floor, unable to even feel my legs beneath me.

And, as a rush of heat shoots out from the place where Peeta's lips brush my collarbone, I suddenly feel only gratitude, not irritation, at the strange Rod Catamaran.

Four days later.

The world surrounding me is green. Green and brown and fire-bitten and scorched. Every which way I spin, there's embers soaring from that direction too, waiting to lick me with their burning flames, ready to decimate me once and for all.

But through the smoke and haze, I still can see between the trees two blonde braids. I still can see a small figure standing on the other side of the fire. I still can see her shirt that's come untucked in the back, creating a duck tail that I desperately want to fix.

Just as I notice her, she whirls around to face me, her blue eyes big and bright and terrified. "Katniss!" She screams, the same way she did the last day she was alive. "Katniss, help! They're coming!"

I don't know who's coming or what's happening or where we even are, but all I feel is relief somehow. Relief that she's here, that I'm in her presence again, that she's almost within my reach. Instinctively I call out, "Prim!" Just so I can finally get a response to the name I've been shouting into oblivion for almost a year now.

"Katniss, help me!" She cries again and then looks over her shoulder. She's not talking about the fire between us, as it doesn't seem too intent on heading towards her.

I don't know what's coming or who she's afraid of, but my instincts now go into overdrive. My body suddenly snaps into alert and I whip my head around, to see if I can find an opening in the fire closing in on me, if I can find a way to get to the sister I lost what feels like only yesterday, if I can find a way to save her this time.

There's no gap in the fire though. It's crowded around me, front, back and side to side. The more seconds that pass by, the closer the fire folds into my proximity, and I have to brace myself before making a split-second decision.

But it's not really a decision at all. Prim needs me and I cannot fail her. I have to save her this time.

I take a bold step directly into the fire, with every intention of running through it somehow. Of running past the wild embers, scorching myself no doubt, but still making it over to my distressed, frightened little sister. But it doesn't work like I expect.

But really, does anything?

These flames are nothing like the fires I've encountered before. And I've been around more fire in my life than anyone ever should.

No, these flames don't burn me. They don't hurt me or put me through agony or singe me to pieces. They don't melt off my makeshift coat of skin and they don't further decimate it either.

Instead the fire feels like almost nothing. Like something almost itchy, something almost irritating, something almost painful. Something that make me want to squirm and scream and escape all at the same time.

Which is real ironic considering what else it seems these flames do.

They seem to hold me into place. The second I'm in their hold, instead of the horrific pain I thought I'd be in, I'm trapped in a series of almost nothing.

I'm not in excruciating pain physically, but seeing my sister standing ten feet from me, and not being able to move any closer, not being able to protect her from whatever she's terrified of, is worse than any amount of injury this fire could have inflicted.

"Katniss!" Prim screams now, her voice only growing in its frantic nature. "Help! Why won't you come help me?"

I try to scream, try to tell her I want to but I can't move. But it turns out that these flames also paralyze vocal muscles.

"Peeta's dying!" Prim yelps out, looking behind her again, her hands beginning to shake in a way she almost never let them in life. She always tried to keep it together, to remain calm and rational in a crisis.

Her words elicit something entirely new inside of me though. "Peeta?" I yell in confusion, my voice suddenly no longer paralyzed.

"They're killing him! Katniss, please, why won't you come here? We need you!" Prim is close to hysterical now and frankly, so am I.

"I'm trying! I just," I move my hands down my body, trying to push the flames away as they rises up to my chest, trying to just break free from these fiery chains once and for all. "The fire, Prim! I can't get out of the fire."

Prim's voice drops then, loses all source of fear, every ounce of panic. Loses any semblance of emotion. "Katniss, there is no fire," she states blankly, her eyes looking directly at the embers covering my stomach and legs. "There's nothing there."

I just look at her for a moment, completely speechless. Her words are inconceivable, her eyes are haunted now, her facial expression is unrecognizable. Even her voice doesn't sound like hers anymore.

Before I can comprehend what's happening, in the distance a gunshot goes off.

Prim delicately glances over her shoulder now, her blue eyes cold as ice. "He's dead," she informs clinically, before sighing deeply, her tone almost disappointed. "And so am I."

I don't know what happens next or how it occurs, but I fly upwards in my bed with such a start, I give myself whiplash.

I hear a loud screeching noise hanging in the air, a hoarse trepidation that almost makes me feel better. I don't know why but someone else screaming in the middle of the night gives me hope, as sick as that may be.

Only it's not someone else, I realize, as my throat burns raw. I realize with startling clarity that I'm the only making all the noise. I'm the one shaking so tremendously. I'm the one who is sobbing.

"Shhh," a voice whispers against the darkness, and I flail involuntarily at the shock. "Sorry, sorry," Peeta instantly apologizes, his hands gripping my arms with a little too much intensity, trying to still my shaking. "It's okay, Katniss, you were just having a nightmare."

His words do precious little to calm me down though. "She was there," I cry, the image, the feeling, of Prim standing only ten feet from me and not being able to reach her too painful for me to unsee.

"Who was there?" He asks tenderly, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. "Katniss, breathe."

I don't even bother listening to his advise. I haven't exhaled since I was eleven. "Prim was there. She was begging me to save her and then I couldn't, I was trapped but-but," I cut myself off, unable to form coherent words and thoughts any longer.

Peeta gets the gist though. "Come here," he whispers and pulls me into his arms, like he used to on the train, when my nightmares woke us both three times a night. "I'm so sorry, Katniss," he says softly now, and rubs my back in a way that elicits goosebumps. His way of trying to soothe my shaking. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You died too," I blurt out then. I don't even know why I feel inclined to tell him.

"What?"

"I was stuck and I couldn't speak and then Prim said you were going to die and I got scared enough that I could talk again and I thought-I thought," I stumble breathlessly, my tears pouring out against his shoulder now.

I feel his lips touch my cheek and I'm too upset to revel in the feeling of blood rushing there. "It was just a nightmare," he promises.

But my sentiment is unfinished. "I thought I could break free, that I could-"

"Katniss," he halts, still holding me in his embrace, rocking me slightly. "It wasn't real. I promise you, it wasn't real."

Those words, the words so often said to him by me, ring a bell that I didn't want to ring. It snaps me back into reality abruptly and without warning, I feel like my chest is going to collapse.

Because this means Prim wasn't really there, that she still is as dead as she was yesterday, that I still watched her explode into pieces all over the bombsite in the Capitol.

I still failed to protect her.

Peeta pulls back slightly then and rests his forehead against mine. "It's okay, Katniss," he says again, trying to calm my trembles by rubbing my arms up and down.

"How are you in my house?" I realize, with an intense sudden clarity. "How are you here? Are you real or am I still-"

He quickly puts me out of my misery. "You gave me a key, remember? A long time ago? We gave each other keys to our houses."

Oh. Right. I forgot all about that when he had his nightmare, didn't I?

Good thing he's an idiot who keeps his door unlocked at night.

He's explaining further before I can think to ask. "I heard you having a nightmare from my house. That's why I rushed over here."

I'm caught between embarrassment and gratitude. "Sorry, I really don't know what brought it on."

"Hey," he quietly reprimands, lifting my chin now to meet eye contact. "Don't apologize. No one understands nightmares like me."

I nod, accepting his words, though still a little uncomfortable with screaming for all the district to hear at two in the morning.

Then again, our entire neighborhood is Haymitch and the two of us, and our mentor was drinking like a fish last night so really, the only person who could have heard me is already sitting directly in my eye line.

To punctuate his words, when I don't respond verbally, he lifts my hand up and brings it to his lips tenderly.

And I don't know what comes over me or why. I don't know if it's because we've been growing closer again lately or if I just haven't felt his arms around me since days ago in the bakery and I miss the feel of it desperately, but I find myself abruptly throwing my body around his before I can talk myself out of it.

He catches me easily, like he anticipated my reaction and sways me for a long moment, until my breathing begins to even itself out.

"Will you stay?" I rasp into his neck, as I feel his hand tangles in my matted locks.

"Always."

#everlark #thg #the hunger games #everlark fic #fanfic #prompt #everlark fanfic #fanfiction #growing back together #userreese #i think thats what you meant when you said to tag you????#gravity ♥️ 🌅 🥖

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punkscowardschampions · 6 years

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Ali & Carly

Ali: Heyo boo Ali: thanks for Rocky wrangling with me today, you're now also his fave so, add that to your tally Carly: its k i had fun Carly: hes a cutie & cool kid Ali: me too Ali: yeah, he's alright, but cocky enough so I ain't telling him Ali: dunno where he gets that from 😏 Carly: ha Carly: yea idk Carly: no clue Ali: i'm sorry Ro was being off btw, I'm working out why but trust it wasn't you, babe Ali: been neglecting her lately, everyone wants a piece of me Ali: hard life Carly: idc its me too Carly: nobody wants a piece but you Ali: I just told you that ain't true, and Rocky is ruthless, he called one of my customers a 'big bum witch' the other day Ali: no tip for me, thanks dickhead Ali: but I want all of you regardless Ali: willing to throw hands Carly: aw Carly: this town is full of big bum witches tho Carly: my ma back for one Carly: but are you willing to use those hands for good too or Ali: awks if that was your Ma, like hey gurl, I think you rock it Ali: your daughter ain't bad either Ali: you know it, IOU 'cos we couldn't make like we were in the backrow of the cinema Carly: unless she been lying about where she at i think youve avoided meeting the in laws again Carly: k cuz you kno i need to collect soon Carly: bored Carly: just back and zoned out so fast Ali: ain't even got exciting stories from their galavanting? fucking rude Ali: at least when we go AWOL we also go wild Ali: make things happen, lads Carly: my ma's good for nothing but hairspray and peroxide Carly: only use if i get beat up again Carly: my da's good for cash tho if you wanna get wild w me Ali: or you wanna single white female me Ali: which would be a disappointing outcome to say the least Ali: can't tonight babe, I've gotta have some sister time Ali: go hard for both of us Carly: k Carly: try not to miss me bad when shes talking about me Ali: oh babe, she will not, and if she does I'll set her straight Ali: gonna let the world know you're my 😇 Carly: whatever her issue shes gotta air it and youre her sister so you gotta hear it Carly: idc shes not gonna hurt me w it Carly: and setting peeps straight is the opposite of how you do, babe Ali: true Ali: idk what issue she could have though, you're a literal ray of sunshine Ali: true again 😏 Ali: ugh, imma miss you Ali: maybe i can sneak out when she's gone to bed, the 'rents too Carly: i miss you now Carly: cant hear my parents say shit Carly: i just wanna talk to you Carly: dont tell me maybe & keep me waiting tho Ali: i will Ali: promise Carly: i dont wanna make trouble for you Carly: w anyone Carly: you can stay w her if you need to stay Ali: You won't Ali: I can do both Ali: be back before first light Ali: even if I'll miss watching the sun rise on your face 😔 Ali: we've got the night, baby Carly: but you kno if ive got you for the whole night youre gonna fall asleep Carly: thats what im good at Carly: feel free to tell your sister thats why you like me ha Carly: fun & tiring its magic Ali: hmm, we'll see who wears who out first, babe Ali: and if I am that husband, then you'll just have to wake me up with morning sex like the good little wifey you are 😘😂 Carly: always bringing that confidence i like it Carly: k but if my parents wake up too you can explain its a duty thing yea i had to like Ali: i like you Ali: for so many reasons and imma show you all of 'em tonight Ali: fuck that Ali: stay out with me, its warm enough Ali: i'll trace all the constellations out with my tongue so you won't ever forget Ali: educational Carly: my ma is asking me what im blushing about Carly: i told her what you said but she's not a believer Carly: support my education bitch Carly: ha Ali: i mean, i'd offer to let her see the benefits for herself but Ali: not gonna win me any brownie points 'cos she won't take me up on it Carly: she dont kno what she's missing but i do Carly: wish you were here Ali: me too Ali: start the party without me babe, i don't mind Carly: too late if you do Carly: gotta get through this reunion some way Ali: they aren't making you watch a slideshow, are they? Ali: fate worse than death Ali: Maybe you could go to Ronan's? Lmao, he's been up in my pussy way too much since he found out about us...didn't think we were THAT loud but ok boy Carly: yea Carly: might do cuz same Carly: but what if i miss you he can really make a night of it when he wants Ali: Nah, I won't let you face that disappointment, babe Ali: my spidey senses will tingle like not on my watch, fuckboy Carly: aw Carly: you gonna come get me? Carly: thats no way to get him out your pussy babe fyi Ali: yeah Ali: I know but I like the idea of showing you off as mine Ali: but no sharing, he only gets to watch and be mad he fucked it up Carly: i like it too Carly: youre hot when youre oneupping fuckboys Carly: i thought i knew how to do it best but k youre flipping the script Ali: as long as i'm besting them i'm doing my job right Ali: gotta keep you on-board Carly: speak of the devil Carly: how he know i was alone & horny Carly: my parents have only gone to the shops its uncanny Ali: know your neighbours but bit stalkerish, pal Ali: i'll text him to fuck off, freak him out Ali: how does she know, ha, two can play this game fucko and I'm more committed Carly: ha Carly: you gotta Carly: hes smoking im gonna bum one see what line he tries to lay on before the text sends Ali: On it Ali: gotta let him know there's a queue to court the princess now and he's at the back, soz Carly: he likes hitting it from the back he wont be put off Carly: im gonna show him some of the hot pics i took of you tho Ali: when is he ever tbf? 🐶👅💦 Carly: true Carly: that fucking cute tho aren't i Ali: you know it babe Carly: hes talking to my da now Carly: kill me Ali: how fucking dare he Ali: knowing he has the upper hand with the man bants Ali: i know how to change a tire too! love me! Carly: if my ma invites him in for tea im out of here Carly: she will think hes hot under the collar for her & bitch thats my groundwork Ali: Run baby run Ali: what kinda moron is he tho Ali: coulda had a private show if you just waited, now its all saturday night telly and flat lager Carly: you kno i have nowhere to go if you dont want me babe Carly: facts Carly: he likes me now he cant have me what a fucking Carly: like i wouldve fucked you but im not getting w you Ali: i do, is this full sos crisis mode though? 'cos i need to be good for a lil while longer yet Ali: such a typical bloke move that Ali: bet he ain't the only boy in ur inbox, not a pun Ali: 'cos he ain't in mine like 🙄 Carly: its k your sister needs you Carly: i can keep walking Carly: loads of other lads on site as well as in my inbox Carly: & they arent trying to say hi to me before we get down to it nevermind my parents Ali: 😾 Carly: why so sad blue eyed boo Ali: i don't like how lads treat you Ali: i'm not jealous, like swear to god, even though i obviously want you all to myself, i get it Ali: but i'm not about how shit they are to you, even if you don't care, they should care to be decent humans Carly: thats not lads its everyone Carly: youre the only one treating me different Carly: they dont know how else to be Carly: made my bed babe Ali: nah Ali: you don't deserve half the shit you get, that's bullshit Ali: and even the rest, people just don't wanna try to understand or be good, heaven forfend they inconvineince themselves for one second, like Carly: if im a slag im a slag i dont get to put conditions on it Carly: if it was a film maybe Carly: but theres no romance coming my way from theres and i dont want it Ali: why can't you just be you? someone who likes fucking, among other things Ali: not romance just like...not being a cunt Ali: idk Ali: pisses me off Carly: cuz you don't run the world even tho you strut it like you do and i love it Ali: not yet, babe Ali: one day, and you can be my right hand woman Carly: yea? Carly: take me w you & ill take you to all your fave places k Ali: k Ali: we'll be fun forever, I promise you Carly: gotta be Ali: you know i like you even when you ain't tho Ali: don't tell Carly: who would i Carly: ronans got enough for his wank bank & nobody else is chatting to me rn Ali: exactly, ruins the illusion and fantasy when they realise i care about you Ali: so unsexy of me Carly: youre sexy to me Carly: idc what they think Ali: good Ali: me either Carly: i like you too you kno Ali: yeah Ali: i had my suspicions Carly: i dont have any subtlety sorry about it Ali: Don't be Ali: I love it Ali: not enough people say what they mean or want, ever Carly: waste Carly: k i wasnt shouting how bad i wanted to kiss you before i did but not cuz i was bothered about me Ali: agreed Ali: sometimes you can't know you want something until you've got it Ali: i get it Carly: you get me Carly: its weird Ali: 🔮 Carly: ha Carly: k what am i thinking now Ali: wouldn't be proper to say Ali: tut tut bad girl Ali: like how you think though Carly: fuck Carly: youre good Ali: 🤷 don't mean to brag but remember that phrase you'll be screaming it later Ali: such a Ronan line, I can't 😂 Carly: but true Carly: not like when he says it Ali: 😍 Carly: what you doing w your sister Carly: gotta live through that cuz bored Ali: Fixing my weave Ali: getting into a white girl dread territory over here Ali: then gonna do some 🔮 forreal Ali: get ready for me to be even more of a know it all baby Carly: cute Carly: tell me my future i got some shit from another neighbor & im waiting for it to kick Carly: hows it gonna treat me Carly: needing a good trip Ali: we'll see who gets the answer first Ali: you got anything for me? Carly: yea Carly: they mystery but i kno you arent scared Carly: & you got me doing a test run rn lying on here on the grass Ali: 🌌 be there before it fades away my space explorer Carly: if you find me at a bad end prob dont take it Ali: is one of the lads trip sitting you Carly: so he reckons but hes drinking so theres no trust Carly: & he gave me it Carly: his game could be me lights out idk Ali: keep texting me, okay babe? Ali: if shit gets too real, tell me and I'll come early Ali: my sis is cool now, she gets what we're doing, she was just confused Carly: aw Carly: youre sweet Carly: you told her you like me Ali: 'course I did Ali: I ain't ashamed Ali: I'm proud Carly: youre gonna make me cry Ali: You're special, Carly Ali: You're gonna see Carly: I just wanna see you tho Ali: Me too Ali: I'm gonna make her some chamomile tea and then I'm coming, yeah? Carly: but thats not fair to her Carly: she's not gonna be a fan of me Ali: I've promised her more time tomorrow Ali: You need me rn Carly: but what if i want you to stay Carly: what are we gonna do then Ali: i'll stay until you're ready for me to go Carly: you mean that? Ali: yes Ali: promise, imma take care of you Carly: but theres nothing in it for you Carly: youve already got me you dont have to Ali: i wanna keep you Ali: and not just selfishly Ali: you gotta stick around, you're too cool to go anywhere, okay Carly: k Carly: im here & if you wanna be im not stopping you Ali: good Ali: i wanna be wherever you are Carly: i kept you pills back the lads didnt want me to but idc about them & you can follow me in now Ali: fuck them Ali: just me and you Carly: yea Carly: ill look after you too Ali: 😇 Ali: i know, i trust you Carly: idk if you should Carly: but i like it Ali: willing to take my chances Ali: you're worth it Carly: thats you Ali: i'm so glad i met you Carly: me too Carly: not that i met me thats weird Carly: you know what i mean Ali: i got you Ali: not high yet 😉 Carly: id seen you around before you guardian angel'd me that night Carly: thats weird too Carly: that i didnt see you how i do now Ali: it is Ali: you were always cute but Ali: idk, i can't claim to have seen this in my crystal ball Carly: thats cuz i wasnt cute i was a state Carly: & youd have more likely seen me sucking ronans dick Carly: look away babe you dont need to have that image in your mind Ali: don't need him reckoning he plays part in any of my fantasies, nah Ali: you can't not be cute, no matter how you try, soz babe Carly: you can't not be so sweet to me can you Ali: dunno Ali: not tried Carly: idk what id do if you did Carly: i got used to it Ali: got no plans to stop Ali: unless you ask me to, like Carly: thats not gonna be what i ask you to do Carly: trust me Ali: you can tell me all about it Ali: 5 minutes, tops Carly: okay

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punkscowardschampions · 6 years

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Janis & Jimmy

Janis: Not that I don't appreciate the gesture Janis: But you didn't need to go full Van Gogh to get my attention, like Jimmy joined the chat 5 hours ago Jimmy: Not my first thought when I decided on giving you the finger either like Jimmy: Suffering for my art on day one though. #committed Janis: Says even more about your artistic temperament, that Janis: Gotta be to something eh now we're officially on the radar for being on the rocks Janis: Are you okay forreal though? Playground stories vastly differing from a scratch to amputation Jimmy: Yeah. Could ask you the same since there's no grapevine for me to rely on about the Janis Cavante enigma Janis: What can I say? If only the game hadn't gone to shit Janis: I'm alright, just family stuff Jimmy: 👌 Janis: When you gonna be my mate again? Janis: I'm sorry for whatever I said that got to you but I can't un-say it now, can I? Janis: I didn't mean to get so heavy, like, you know I was hanging Jimmy: When have I ever been your mate? 😏💕😍 Friendzone better than no zone but #savage Jimmy: Cheers for the warning, bit late but Janis: Shut up Janis: OBVIOUSLY I was just gonna seduce you when I saw ya again Janis: but you gotta ruin it 😕 idk, are you even committed to the #goal anymore? Jimmy: why your surprised? Got form at that, don't I? Jimmy: shut up Jimmy: Course I am #rideordie obvs 😎 Janis: Not that I recall 🤔 Thought I was the one that couldn't read a situation Janis: Why you coming for my 👑? You've got no chance I'm FAR more hopeless than you Jimmy: You don't get to take that win. Sorry 🏆💪 All mine Janis: You're impossible 💘 Jimmy: Missed you too 💕 Janis: Maybe a tad 😉 Janis: If I tell you I did and no faking Janis: You gonna put the knife down? Jimmy: 👌 Janis: What you being a prick for? Janis: Not gonna let you off that easy soz Janis: Use your words Jimmy: Alright Jimmy: I'm still a prick though. Sorry. You won't get off that easy 😏 Janis: Yeah but that's how I like you Janis: Weren't working under some illusion you were alright like Janis: so what's up??? Jimmy: Nothing now Jimmy: What's up with you? Janis: 😤 Janis: Aside from talking to a brick wall I'm grand, boy Janis: Trying to wrack my brain for what I did or said...any hints? Jimmy: It was nowt I'm just a moody git Jimmy: don't worry about it Janis: Nah it wasn't Janis: 'Cos I was in a mood that day from the off and you were trying for ages Janis: and I don't think you were just mardy at me for spoiling the day 'cos you know I'm a prick too Janis: No surprises Jimmy: It wasn't you. My dad just does my head in, you know Jimmy: all that shit Janis: Alright, makes sense Janis: When he finally rolled in was he solo then? Jimmy: Nah Janis: Shit Janis: I'm sorry Janis: Could've given you warning but 'course not...was Bobby in bed at least? Jimmy: Not your fault Jimmy: Yeah, with me, thankfully. He hasn't gone in me dad's room for ages Jimmy: Cass of course knows it all Janis: Still Janis: That's one good for now at least then Janis: Yeah no fooling her...I thought she seemed off when I was coming to get Twix but not enough that I clocked Janis: That's shit, Jim Jimmy: Except she thought the woman was a prozzie, asked her how much pops was paying and all that Jimmy: Funny but not facts Jimmy: no chance of paying her off Jimmy: What's going on at your gaff then? Janis: Oh God Janis: point 1 to Cass 😂 Janis: Know I shouldn't be laughing but Christ Janis: Not trying to be #fitandmysterious about it but it ain't my shit to tell Janis: Nothing that ain't survivable just something shit but that's par for the course init Jimmy: Go on, I had a good laugh. Still am. Gotta, like. Jimmy: Yeah. With you there Jimmy: Twix probs won't take no for an answer but she's a good secret keeper so it'll be alright Janis: Yeah, if your life Da insists your life has gotta be a hilarious evil step-witch Disney romp Janis: May as well be in on the joke Janis: Twix could really stir the pot if she wanted Janis: get me to herself like she really wants Jimmy: Don't suppose you fancy a front row seat do you? My dad's talking about having her over for dinner and if Cass can't put a stop to it, I think she'd like you there Jimmy: Bring Grace too if you want, Bobby hasn't shut up about her. Like she's his girlfriend or something Jimmy: Once Twix gets under the table the woman'll be well outnumbered Janis: Bless him, he really cheered her up too Janis: Would be mildly amusing to outshine his big news with that wtf pairing, sure Janis: I can be there, if Cass wants Janis: Great at fucking up family dinners, like Jimmy: #therealOTP Jimmy: Gracie doing alright now, yeah? Barely recognised her at the park before Jimmy: It's been a while but I think I can still remember how to do it too. I got your back Janis: Yeah, she'll be alright, just a bit of a rough time rn Janis: Same tbh but gotta be like riding a bike Janis: we so good at fucking up other stuff yeah? Jimmy: Gotta be, she managed to look down at Tammy earlier, no easy feat Jimmy: Yeah 🏆💪 Jimmy: 🎻 Janis: She's well shot of her Janis: although she's just the monkey not the organ grinder Janis: need the rosetta stone to talk to you sometimes boy 🙄😂 Jimmy: If that's your way of telling me you're magic, I'm not surprised 😜 Jimmy: Love it if you cursed Mia this term tbh Janis: You'd think that face was curse enough Janis: 😑 Janis: but y'all have 0 standards Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: Mine are 🥇 Jimmy: wouldn't even fake date her, mate Janis: Well you talk a big game but don't you always Janis: #allforshow? Janis: Oh I forgot, just tall Tam who made the cut was it? Janis: 😏 Jimmy: shut up Janis: Nah don't be ashamed we've all got a past to rip the piss out of Janis: At least you didn't end up sharing a lad with your sister Janis: Thanks for that one Gracie 👍 Jimmy: Still time, Cass don't even like lads yet 👍 Janis: Why would you wish your taste on poor Cass? Janis: Don't even 😂 Jimmy: Too late, mate she's already loving ya Janis: 1/3 ain't bad 💪 Jimmy: I'll let her know Janis: I would aim for the full set but Gracie cockblocking again so 🤷 Jimmy: Gotta step your game up, mate. Jimmy: Such a loser like Janis: Excuse me Janis: you're 3/3 by default don't shout about it Jimmy: 😎 Janis: wanna try for my full set? Janis: doubt it Jimmy: Bring it on, hun Janis: did you just hun at me Jimmy: yeah, channeling my inner Gracie since she bested TT and I just got the 💋 of death like Janis: tragic 💅 Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: what we doing now i'm outta school early Janis: Hmm Janis: Picking up where we left off? Or new challenge? Jimmy: I'm always about trying new stuff 👍 Janis: Ooh Janis: Adventurous Janis: #keepingitfresh Jimmy: 😏 gotta now we're #keepingitreal Janis: can't let the haterz just hate can you? #winningemback1hashtagatatime Jimmy: Such a winner, can't help it Janis: Pfft. Jimmy: you coming to find me then? left you a blood trail and everything Jimmy: 💕 Janis: Who could resist such a sexy offer? Janis: I've got to get out of this lesson first Janis: Time me Jimmy: ⏲ Jimmy: go Janis: *Should have asked where he was, but it was too late for that now and thus, just another part of the game. She wasn't losing by default of asking, thanks. Logically, wasn't going to make her go anywhere near the Head or the classrooms...So that left the smoking hole, already waiting outside the gates or...the bogs? Best place to check first before venturing out. There was the lot in the Science block, the ones in the Humanities and the ones upstairs. If only she was as obsessed as she felt on her bad days to have his schedule memorized so she could pick the most likely of the lot. As it was, she just made it to the closest, like she had a place to be. First lot was a bust, just someone having a sneaky shit and keeping dead silent in reply to her 'Jim?', oops, soz mate. Exiting sharpish, Janis jogged down the corridor to the next, seeing him as soon as she entered, checking himself out in the mirrors; She smirks, walking over to the sinks and seating herself down on one to face him. She grabs his hands (gently) to assess the damage (not too bad, thank God), cocking a brow.* How'd I do? Jimmy: *Once the app's pressed, his phone's away and he's focused on his own (self imposed) race against time. The clean up. The sooner this bollocks was done the faster they could get out of here and onto the next. Whenever and whatever that is. Jimmy didn't try and guess, how things have been panning out lately like. He knows, without glancing down at his hand that it looks worse than it is, and easy to sort. No chance of calling what's happening with him and this girl anything close. Jimmy shrugs, to get it out of his system, he tells himself, 'cause no more of that shit. Not for a bit, after before. Then shakes his head, uninjured hand running through his hair. The briefest flash of a smile that there's no shame in. He's just glad she's willing to show up again and 'cause she is, he won't let himself keep slipping. Try hard move, but how he feels. There's more of the same when he hears someone come in, realizing it's her, and moves closer, hands still connected until he's standing between where her legs dangle off porcelain. It's a position to tease if he wants, and probably he will, keeping that familiar tone going for as long as they'll both allow, but first he answers her question, pulling his phone out with his own raised eyebrows poised. * 6 flat. Not bad, mate. * He breathes it out, counting himself, up to the moment when he kisses her. Fast enough to shut her up before she can make any claims to victory, yeah, but mostly he just wants to. Slowly. Needs to. She's earned it by being here. Or he's owed it for getting too far in the line of fire. It doesn't matter. Not yet.* Janis: *Janis inhales sharply as he moves closer, holding the breath in tight as so to hold him in place too. Stay. It's not just a matter of closeness though, is the problem. With a Family like hers, you were used to touchy-feely, (back in the day, when she still allowed it from any of 'em, like), but this was about the places he was able to get close...Where no one else ever had. And she wasn't just being literal, all relevant body parts ignited by his touch, it was the other shit too, head space and fucking...soul space, occupying space and time in her life she'd given to no one before him. It was terrifying, 'course, it was also fucking exhilarating. Why else would she? Up for the challenge, yeah? In this moment, here and now, absofuckinglutely. Try and stop me. Doubts and dread could be saved for later, when he was gone again. Something about him demanded her full attention, and she didn't hate the distraction of it, of him, AT ALL. She laced her legs 'round his back using them to pull him closer still. But she won't be the one to start it. She still can't. Not got the bottle to be sure he wants it too. Tragic, as her twin would say. Sure she'd feel more tragic if he pulled back, though.* New record, I reckon... *Barely focused on her own words as she murmurs them into his ear, thin fingers running through his dark hair, messing up what she had caught him fixing.* I like you better like this. Jimmy: *He meets her first unspoken challenge immediately, his easiest yet. Pushing as she pulls, but not away, both of them in a rhythm that only hurts a bit, from his hand, safe to ignore (like he gives a shit right now if it was about to fall off). No other alarm bells, thank fuck, 'cause that's sorted. Done. Jimmy grins into her skin as her softly spoken words tickle his, eyebrows raising themselves to let her know he's unconvinced, that what he 'reckons' is that he could beat it. (If it means getting to her.) Another bet he's ready to place if it's ever laid down. *You do, do you?* His tone has a smirk in it, seconds before it reaches his face, changing the smile as he moves effortlessly, no need to stretch as his own fingers retrace the path of hers, on her, until the ponytail she had in is loosened and the curls falling free. *Touche* Janis: *She laughs softly, this lowering the risk of omitting any other noise, more incriminating AND more shaming, so she reckoned. Bemused face to match, challenging him to 'be careful!' and praying he'll ignore her, breaking School property or falling on her arse be damned, frankly. Janis tuts the kind of 'oh, please! tut of someone not at all interested in having him leave even just so to come back as fast as possible. No more running. Not today. She tightens her grip on him to say as much, tugging playfully at his hair as he messes with hers.* Oi! *She allows it though, enjoying the relief of letting out the too-tight hairband, literal letting down of the hair how cliche they were...Who cares? Not her. She plays otherwise though, pouting like a stroppy kid and blowing a wayward curl out of her eyes.* Look what a mess you've made, boy... *She smiles, bending her head down, curls falling and exposing the nape of her neck, to 'kiss it better'. Light kisses trailing the slip of his knife, even though it was still a bit bloody, she liked the metallic taste of it and pale red stain he left on her lips. She looks up, bigger smile still. God, she wanted him so bad.* Jimmy: *Damn. There's things running through his mind that he could do to 'get her back for this' or 'raise the stakes' and about as many that he shouldn't, like how simple it'd be to 'clean up' again by letting the tap run and flicking as much water as he can whilst not letting go of her a millimeter. That thought could fuck right off. Stupid risk. He doesn't want either of them to cool off and it's too late for that seconds after. So he thinks then, much as he can form any coherent thoughts with THAT happening. A shuddering breath slips out (that she'll no doubt call a moan to ensure her victory when her mind's back on that) covering the sound of the bathroom door opening. Until there's an explosion of noise. Shit. Still existing purely on reactions, empty headed and dizzy, he lifts her off the sink, pulling her protectively against his side in the same movement. His body won't do anything else that it's supposed to, chest too tight and airless to get any words out, defense or attack. Just as well when he finally realises who it is. Fucking hell. All the same, the urge is there to run, persistent and he shoots her a look, daring her to listen to his idea instead of the teacher's rant. This challenge is probably one too far, but anything from Janis and he'll get it done, making sure they both get out.* Janis: *Another cliche, everything happening so fast that it feels like you're running (crawling more like) on slow-mo. Its like they're so fucking close to closing the last of the space but in the seeming eternity between this desperately needed contact finally happening, someone has managed to barge in and spoil everything before Janis had chance to blink. If it had been another kid, (depending on who, of course), she probably could have told them to piss off and then they could continue but that 'someone' being a teacher did somewhat bring her back down into harsh reality with a dull thud. That, and Jimmy lifting her off the sink with lightning speed reaction. Nice. She hid her appreciative smirk, vowing to show him just how appreciative she was when they were alone again. However, she still managed to catch his eye, and catch on to what he was silently saying as teach got louder and louder, realising they weren't listening to him. It was now or never. Realization jolting her back into the here and now, she took his (good) hand (much to the horror of Mr. Lucas when he clocked it, too little too late) and squeezed it tight to say 'Leg it!' And she did just that, pulling Jim with, exit in sight.*

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