#there’s no good tricks but old ones 2 carries on the merry tradition
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plusultraetc · 3 months ago
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this is a continuing problem for the there’s no good tricks but old ones sequel so I thought I would just put the question out there into the world!!
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laurasimonsdaughter · 4 years ago
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All about the Dullahan
Thomas Croften Croker’s Fairy legends and traditions of the south of Ireland (1825-1834) seems to be the main – if not only – written source of full folktales about the Dullahan. It contains a section titled “The Dullahan” which consists of four folktales, one ballad, and some research notes that refer to further stories.
Not all these stories actually even use the name Dullahan, but Croker seems to have gathered them together on the basis of them being headless. Explaining: “Headless people are not peculiar to Ireland, although there alone they seem to have a peculiar name” (1928, p. 98). So which Dullahan does Mr Croker have on offer? The answer is: a set of very different creatures which he all calls Dullahan, but which are not always referred to as Dullahan and who are, from story to story, revenants, fae, death omens, and a restless spirit.
I will sum up their characteristics for every story and give a verdict on their supernatural nature under the cut (this got very long):
The Good Woman (1928, p. 85-98):
Type 1:
A short woman in a large cloak that conceals her completely who is:
Headless, and isn’t carrying her head
Shows up in twilight, seen only by a man riding home alone
Very quick and nimble, can leap onto a horse and over a wall, seem to glide rather than run
Does not speak, does not make a sound when jumping on the ground
Is corporeal, as she can be touched
Is described as a “merry wench”
She allows a man to give her a ride before jumping off his horse and running away from him, clearly making a game of letting him chase her
She runs into the ruins of an old church near a pool to meet with:
Type 2:
A crowd of “well dressed ladies and gentlemen, and soldiers and sailors, and priests and publicans, and jockeys and Jennys, but all without their heads”
These Dullahan are having a party, where they dance around a torture wheel set with skulls (unclear if these are their own heads) amidst the ruins of the church, to the music of ringing bells and rattling bones
Accompanying them, but not dancing, are:
Type 3:
Skeletons with loose heads that they bowl and throw around as a game
They have bleached bones covered by moth-eaten shrouds
These Dullahan speak, but only in unison “as with one voice, that quavered like a shake on the bagpipes”
One of them carries his head under his left arm while he offers the human protagonist a drink
All three types are referred to as Dullahan
They all leave in “a great hurry scurry with the noise of carriages and the cracking of whips,” presumably making off with the protagonist’s horse as well, who accuses them of being “the horse stealing robbers of the world, that have no fear of the gallows”.
VERDICT: Revenant. Having wild parties, tricking people, and stealing from them is definitely fae behaviour, but apart from that these Dullahan seem to be playful and rather powerful undead, that once were human.
Hanlon’s Mill (p. 103-109):
A great high black coach drawn by six headless black horses, with long black tails reaching almost down to the ground, and a headless coachman dressed all in black sitting up on the box
Possibly heralded by strange sounds during twilight: “such blowing of horns and hallooing, and the cry of all the hounds in the world and “the golloping of the horses, and the voice of the whipper-in”
They appear near a pool of water, bringing darkness with them that blocks out the moon
Neither whip, nor hooves, nor wheels make any sound
The day after a hitherto healthy man has fallen ill and dies
Not called Dullahan by name
Verdict: Omen. Specifically the ghostly coach-a-bower, the death coach. The image of a black coach (or hearse) riding by to foretell someone’s death is quite a common occurrence in folklore.
“Another legend of the same district (as Hanlon’s Mill)” (p. 109):
A black coach, drawn by headless horses, drives to and fro every night, both through the countryside and through a town
It stops at the doors of different houses, but anyone who opens the door to it gets a basin of blood thrown in their face
Not called Dullahan by name, but the story is not told in full
VERDICT: ??? Supernatural prankster? No mention is made of this coach foretelling death, so this seems to be mischief for mischief’s sake. Throwing blood at people is also not very spectral, nudging them a step towards fae in my book.
A legend from Dublin (p. 110-111):
A coach, sometimes driven by a coachman without a head, sometimes drawn by horses without heads, drives furiously past a castle where a clergyman hung himself, possibly with supernatural aid
Not called Dullahan by name, but the story is not told in full
Verdict: Omen. The coach-a-bower again, but this time not to foretell a death but to announce that an (unnatural) death has taken place.
The Harvest Dinner (p. 112-128):
A great old family coach, drawn by six headless horses, driven by a headless coachman
There are headless passengers inside and four fine footmen standing behind the coach, also headless
They emerge from a moat with a great rumbling noise and go towards an old church
They are driving at the rate of a hunt and make sparks fly out of the stones of the road (which implies their horses were horseshoes!)
Even with the whole coach they are faster than a man on horseback
A gate opens for the coach as by magic
Not called Dullahan, but referred to as “fairies”
Ahead of them in this procession are other fairies: “the prettiest little fellows you ever laid your eyes upon. They were all dressed in green hunting frocks, with nice little red caps on their heads, and they were mounted on pretty little long-tailed white ponies, not so big as young kids"
All are seen by the light of the (full) moon, by a man going home alone at night, but he is not afraid of the headless fairies after he notices they have no eyes to see him with
VERDICT: Fae. They are clearly taking part in a fairy procession and are minding their own business, possibly going to have a party at the old church.
The Death Coach, a ballad (p. 134-136):
A coach decorated with a shroud, with headless horses, headless driver and headless passengers
The wheel spokes are thigh bones, the pole a spine and the lamps sculls
They drive at great speed and the coachman cracks a whip
They stop at a churchyard where they speak with the dead in the ground, arguing with them to let them rest there for the night
They plan to go on tomorrow: “for having no heads of our own, We seek the Old Head of Kinsale" (this is a place in Ireland, the whole ballad is full of puns like this)
VERDICT: More rowdy revenants. They have a very gaudy death coach, but do not foretell death, and are clearly accustomed to sleeping in graves.
An anecdote from Cork (p. 136):
Dullahans “drive particularly hard wherever a death is going to take place”
They come in a great crowd, with a large procession
The coachman has a long whip “with which he can whip the eyes out of any one, at any distance, that dares to look at him”
VERDICT: Omen?? Fae that are into death for the goth of it??
The Headless Horseman (p. 138-150)
A headless rider who carries his head under his right arm or in the pocket of his coat, on a headless white horse, who has its head floating in front of it
The head is gaunt and ashy pale, with “depressed features” that look “like a large cream cheese hung round with black puddings” and has two large, fiery eyes, matted black hair, and a mouth that reaches from ear to ear
He wears a scarlet single-breasted hunting frock with “a waist of a very old fashioned cut reaching to the saddle, with two huge shining buttons at about a yard distance behind”
He appears to a man on horseback, at night, in the rain
The head speaks in a hoarse voice, but only sparingly, most questions only get a “Humph”
The horseman rides without use of whip, spur or stirrups
The ground shakes under the weight of the hooves, which make a fearful clattering noise and stir the water of nearby pools into waves
Gladly enters into a race with the protagonist and he even promises the man that his horse will be safe
He is never called a Dullahan but just “the headless horseman” and even refers to himself in this way
After the race the headless horseman reveals that ever since he and his horse broke their necks at the bottom of a hill he has been trying to find a man brave enough to ride with him, he gives the man his blessing, promising him that he will never desert him nor the old mare he is riding (and supposedly helping him to win horseraces)
VERDICT: Restless spirit. To me this fellow has very little in common with the other stories. This is very much a doomed rider type of figure, although the curt conversation has a striking resemblance to a similar headless rider in the story A Queen’s County Witch (Yeats, 188, p. 151-154), where the figure is a witch in disguise.
Croker collected his stories in the typical 19th century folklorists’ style, through correspondence, interviews, and borrowing from other authors. He also rewrote the stories quite extensively, and has been criticised on his attitude towards “the Irish peasantry” as he did so. Yeats was one of these critics, (while he did still consider Croker an expert), and as he is the only other 19th-century source on Dullahan I thought his short notes are worth quoting too. He refers to the Dullahan (or Dallahan) both as “headless phantoms” and one of the “solitary fairies” (p. 81), and mentions them in the section “The Banshee”:
“An omen that sometimes accompanies the banshee is the coach-a-bower [cóiste-bodhar]—an immense black coach, mounted by a coffin, and drawn by headless horses driven by a Dullahan. It will go rumbling to your door, and if you open it, according to Croker, a basin of blood will be thrown in your face. These headless phantoms are found elsewhere than in Ireland.” (Yeats, 1888, p. 108).
CONCLUSION: If it’s Irish and headless and walking or riding around ominously, it’s a Dullahan. Which may be a fae, a ghostly omen, or a revenant, just as they please. There clearly is no one coherent definition to be found.
I still insist on putting the cursed headless horseman in another category though. Dullahan clearly have some shared preferences, like a love for twilight and moonlight, horses and coaches, ruined churches and pool. And, interestingly, they seem to always show up either with a coach or a whole company. So I feel justified in saying that the spectre of a solitary person who remembers his own death and knows his reason for still roaming the earth, does not embody the Dullahan sprit.
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cptnsantiago · 5 years ago
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take me home
2/?
~ all i want for christmas is your name
read on ao3
Everyone expects baby Peralta-Santiago to arrive early. It’s a Santiago child, they’re all early. Amy had expected, or  hoped, that early meant after Christmas but before the new year. That’s not the case. 
She instead decides to begin her journey into the world on the coldest night of the year, only four days from Christmas. Amy feels the first contractions at 4am, after spending the whole night attempting to find a comfortable position. All the while Jake snores next to her,  taunting her. 
She can’t bring herself to be genuinely angry at him - not yet. Jake had been nothing but supportive and excited for their baby, he had been since they decided to start trying. They were having a  girl. It had shocked everyone but Amy and she had been three hundred dollars richer for it. He had cried with her at the ultrasound when they found out were having a girl. Jake also stayed up late with her, gave her massages at her demand, provided her with every craving she had. He may not be carrying a 10-pound human (maybe an exaggeration, Amy couldn’t tell) inside him, but he deserved his rest as much as she did. 
So she lets him sleep until the contractions are close enough to worry, but it doesn’t take long until they hurt bad enough to dig her nails into his arm. “Ames?”
“B-baby.” Amy winces again before sucking in a deep breath as the contraction slowly subsides. 
“Is something wrong?” Amy shakes her head, “Is… Is she coming, Ames? Was that a contraction?”
“Yep.” Amy laughs, finally smiling at Jake’s concerned features. “Nine days early, she’s really outdoing the rest of the Santiago’s.”
“David couldn’t beat you at this if he  tried .” Jake encourages with a teasing grin. “We’re having our baby?”
“We’re having our baby.” Amy cries happily, shifting closer to him so he can wrap his arms around her, “I love you.”
The next 15 hours are a blur. Jake is a lot calmer than she expected - not like in every movie or TV show ever where the dad freaks out and faints at the sight of anything gooey - but he stays calm, he guides her through her breathing exercises and offers physical support when she needs it. Jake gets the nurse to back off when she congratulates them on a Christmas baby, because he knew how stressed she was about the dessert she definitely wasn’t bringing for Christmas. He’s really the perfect partner. 
Amy remembers the days of feelings simmering just under the surface and thinking to herself,  Jake is way too immature. It would never work  . Before Jake, Amy thought that being right was everything. Against David, Amy always had to be right and could never lose an argument without lowkey being the end of the world for her. She had never liked being wrong, but she wears this misconception with a badge of pride because there is  no one  else Amy could imagine or  want  to do all this with. 
Jake Peralta was her person. And they had a baby girl together. 
A baby girl born at 7:37pm on December 21st. Seven pounds, twenty inches. A baby girl whom they keep calling Baby Girl Peralta-Santiago because she had been cursed with decisive cops as parents who were apparently indecisive in every other way. 
It’s not really at the top of their priorities - they’re busting adoring every inch of her wriggling in her mother’s arms. Amy traces with her finger the dark hair that peaks from under her hospital issued beanie, over her eyebrows and past her blinking and confused eyes down to her cheeks, nose, lips and chin. “She’s actually your twin, you’re just born many years apart. This is a scientific discovery, babe!” 
Amy rolls her eyes at his quiet enthusiasm, her fingers moving back to stroke their daughters cheeks. “Santiago’s just have strong genes.”
“That’s why you’re all so gorgeous of course. Thanks Victor and Camila!” Jake slides closer behind Amy so she can rest her head against him, and both of them are able to watch their daughter attempt to focus on something. “What’s your name, mija?”
The post baby hormones are almost more of a bitch than her pregnancy, so she has to take a moment to pull herself together at Jake saying  mija to their daughter . “Por favor, no te pongas de acuerdo con Naomi. He just wants to name you after Nakatomi plaza and we have to stick together so he can’t trick us!” 
“Oh  please  , Ames. You were the one trying to name her Hermione.” Jake scoffs, “She’s gonna end up being Baby Girl forever. We can’t even make that work! People will think we’re trying to copy Friends!”
“Her name is definitely not baby girl. We’re going to figure it out, let’s just enjoy her and fall asleep.”
They leave the hospital without a name. The nurse informs them that they have two weeks to decide and get the paperwork in. But the time restriction somehow stresses her out more than picking the perfect name, combined with Christmas being in two days and not having any presents or an outfit for her to wear. 
Jake holds her hand the whole time she rants, just as he always did, his eyes shifting occasionally to the tiny newborn sleeping in the bassinet next to their bed. “Ames, take a deep breath. I’m almost certain she’ll forgive us if she doesn’t have any presents at four days old, and Charles already told me he found four potential Christmas outfits.”
“What would I do without Charles?” Amy sighs happily, turning to run a hand through Jake’s sleepy curls. “What would I do without you?” 
Jake leans forward so their foreheads were touching, both leaning into the quiet moment with only their breathing and tiny baby snores and grunts in the background. He kisses the side of her mouth, his heart warming as a small but tired smile creeps on her face. “We should probably sleep while she’s sleeping.”
“I still have so much to prepare.” Amy whines, her head falling down to his shoulder. 
“Just a little nap, Ames. I’m sure she’ll be screaming at us soon enough for the boob.”
~
It’s a lot of the same for them. Sleep, feed baby girl with no name, change diaper, attempt to think about Christmas, sleep more, eat when Charles comes over with food, brainstorm baby names, and sometimes even more sleep. 
A tradition of their own since they had moved in together was to stay in on Christmas Eve, watching  Harry Potter  and stay up till midnight so they could open each other’s presents - it was a little harder this year. Jake was holding a milk drunk, almost four day old baby in one arm while his other was wrapped around his half asleep wife, trying himself not to fall asleep while Harry fought off Voldemort for the first time. 
Even when he wasn’t nodding off himself, his eyes were usually on the baby in his arms. Charles had gone all out in the baby Christmas outfit department. She had on a thick red headband with a bow on the side, snowflakes printed all over with matching pants, a onesie that read ‘My 1st Christmas!’ and a knitted cardigan over the top to keep her warm. Jake was afraid of the parents he and Amy were becoming, because they both  loved  it. She looked so  cheesy  but it was the cutest thing in the world, and they even did their own mini photoshoot before she started screaming to be fed. 
So here Jake was, surrounded by his family - a milk drunk baby and his wife fast asleep on his shoulder. The baby in his arm begins to squirm, grunting and opening her eyes. “Cómo te llamas, mija?” Jake’s heart warms as she meets his eyes, “Angelica? Eliza? Peggy? Or no Schyler sister names?”
“Absolutely not.” Amy mumbles next to him, eyes still closed. 
“Eliza isn’t a bad name.” Jake replies with a frown. 
Amy opens her eyes, stretching and looking at their baby. “She doesn’t look like an Eliza.”
At that, she grunts and her face contorts in a grimace. 
“Gotcha, no Eliza.” Jake snorts, both him and Amy watched in amazement as she continues to grimace before closing her eyes again and smiling. “Ames! She smiled, definitely not Eliza! She must have hated Eliza.”
“That, or she passed gas.” Amy giggles, pinching her nose. “Hey, look at the time.”
“Midnight! Happy Christmas!” Jake whispers, stroking her cheek lightly before turning to peck Amy on the lips. “Merry Christmas, I love you.”
“Merry Christmas…” Amy sighs happily, closing her eyes again for a moment. “Already four days old and she’s about to face the most chaotic day of the year.”
“We can just skip it?” Jake questions, his voice squeaking as he tries to believe his own words. “I know it’s crazy, but who expects us to go out with a four day old for more than half an hour?”
“My parents is who.” She shakes her head, “Maybe we can be late?”
“Wow you  are  sleep deprived.” Jake laughs softly, “What if we’re late  and we leave early?”
“You’re talking crazy talk now!” Amy snorts, biting her lip as to not disturb the sleeping baby. “I’m getting sick of calling her baby girl, seriously.”
Jake nods in agreement and they fall into a peaceful silence, with only the sounds of the city and Harry Potter in the background. She never thought it would be  this impossible to choose a name for their baby. The baby wrapped up in Jake’s arms was too perfect to have their name rushed. 
The time they spent  trying  , and waiting for results and keeping it a secret from Boyle - it all lead to this moment. Not so much her being born, even though that was a  huge  deal, but being given her name. She had to live with it for whole life (unless she  wanted to change it  - they had both been very adamant in supporting this potential for their daughters future). Maybe they were overthinking it, and the fact that they’ve had a combined thirteen hours sleep in the last two days wasn’t helping them make a choice. 
“Maybe we should revisit some names?” Jake offers, and Amy’s certain he’s read her mind.
“Okay, yeah. Good idea.” Amy agrees, “But no Naomi.”
“Yeah! I get it! Naomi’s out of the picture!” Jake tips his head back in laughter, which wakes the infant in his arms. They’re lucky she doesn’t cry, but just stares up at her father again. “Good you’re awake, we need your help.”
“Now should we go over the suggestions from the squad?” Amy looks to her phone, which has an extensive list. 
“I mean, Rosa’s suggestion is Kid and Charles insists on Charlotte, so no?” Jake shifts the baby so she’s resting on his bent knees. This way she’s able to attempt to look at the both of them while fighting off sleep again. “I think I have an idea…”
“Do tell.” Amy’s not looking at him but looping her pointer finger so she can grip tightly onto it. 
“So I thought Luna-”
“Jake we agreed no character names!” Amy groans, pouting up at him.
“I  know but hear me out, Ames. I’ve thought about this.” Jake’s eyes begin to shimmer, either from tiredness or pure affection, she can’t tell but she knows he’s sincere. “So I thought Luna Rey, for a few reasons. So first, they both have a meaning in Spanish, right?”
“Moon King?” Amy snorts, “That barely makes sense.”
“Ah, but they have meaning. Rey has more of a meaning of Captain Holt to me, and he’s your mentor and best friend after- nevermind he’s your best friend. But also Captain Holt is basically king of the precinct, so it totally works.” Amy can’t really fight that, so she nods and waits for him to continue. “ And Luna, because, well you probably don’t remember because you were deliriously tired but there was a full moon the night she was born. And I stood with her in my arms by the window and just thought about how beautiful they both were. Our baby, and the moon - except she’s prettier. So Spanish meaning, boom!
Okay... So, uh, reason one was basically all my reasons meshed together, and I’m too tired to put up a proper argument for you right now  however  , my final statement. Luna Rey Santiago-Peralta, has both personal and cultural meaning while also happening to be named after two  badass characters that we both love. Rey and Luna Lovegood. Debate over.”
Amy’s lack of sleep is the only reason she’s unable to keep the tears at bay as she laughs at her husband. The first time she had heard the name Luna, she had been so vehemently against it but now after hearing Jake’s case, she can’t remember those protests. 
“Luna? Es ese es tu nombre?” Amy whispers, her heart expanding five sizes as she says it out loud. She doesn’t react like the last time, but she does attempt to pull Amy’s finger into her mouth. “Luna Rey Santiago-Peralta.”
“We’d like to formally apologise for giving you too long of a name.” Jake chuckes, “Do you really like it?”
“Yes, I do.” Amy sniffles, smiling at him brightly. “I’ve really turned you into a debate genius.”
“Only for Luna. It’s what she deserves.” Jake teases with a kiss to Amy’s nose before his eyes drift back to Luna. “It’s really her first Christmas, I’m too tired to process any of this.”
“Happy Christmas, Luna.” 
“The happiest of Christmases, to both of you.”
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pokemonruby · 6 years ago
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1, 2-18 even only for ravi and oswald!!
MY BOYS!! 
1. their voice
well, ravi’s tone is usually very… upbeat? it has an airy sort of feel to it, the kind of voice that could immediately raise your spirits.. but at the same time, if you listen close enough, it can sound quite… strained? as if he’s faking this whole “cheerful” act. hmm
now, as for oswald? well, he doesn’t really speak often; he much prefers sign language of course, but whenever he explodes it’s uh… let’s just say oswald doesn’t care about the volume of his voice. he’s essentially a cantankerous old man in the body of a young adult. 
2. their smile
again, if you inspect ravi’s smile closely… you’ll find that it’s just as feigned as his merry tone. an unfading, almost creepy smile to those aware of its truth; moreover, it can serve as comforting to those ignorant. the entirety of ravi’s demeanor is nothing but a facade built to hide the insecurities of a broken and daresay, maddened man. 
as for oswald, it’s rare that he smiles due to his aforementioned foul attitude. but whenever that opportunity arises and he does show a smile, let’s just say… the whole world would stop and stare at it, it’s so adorable and pure. 
4. their insecurities
as i mentioned before, ravi has many insecurities that he’d rather keep tucked away beneath a cheerful mask. he’s suffered quite a bit in his past, and therefore isn’t true to himself any longer - fearing that he’ll be taken advantage of, due to how unstable he is. so, ravi puts on an elaborate act to trick himself into thinking he’s sane, that nothing’s wrong, even as the pain gnaws away at his very soul. 
not to mention… ravi cursed with immortality, which is yet another burden to carry on his brittle shoulders. the fact he’s unable to die to be with the loved ones he’s lost… is truly the worst form of punishment in the universe.
now, with oswald’s insecurities… he’s rather upfront about it, incomparable to ravi’s mindset of ignoring everything until it blows out of porportion. oswald doesn’t necessarily attempt to fix his insecurities, rather… he acknowledges them. he knows he isn’t particularly the best person to be around, due to his waspish personality… and he doesn’t consider himself to be very talented, despite being a high-ranking member of the country’s largest bureau. but he refuses to make a big deal out of something he can’t change. oswald just isn’t the kind of person to accept positivity, since he honestly cares less. 
he just wants to do his job and get paid for it. that’s really it.
6. how they deal with grief
well, uh.. if you’ve been following along with ravi’s internal conflict, you’d understand that he doesn’t handle grief properly in the slightest. i mean, after he lost his former spouse and child, ravi decided to avenge them by… y’know, massacring the village responsible for their deaths. he’s definitely the type of person to choose revenge over forgiveness - i mean, he wasn’t exactly stable to begin with. ravi’s faced tragedy again and again, and when he finally found happiness - it was taken away from him in a heartbeat. 
also there’s the whole plot in which ravi attempts to become god to bring back his deceased family but let’s…. discuss that later. 
oswald, on the other hand, hasn’t faced much tragedy during his life. he never had a family who cared for him, so… upon their deaths, he felt nothing. in a way, oswald was relieved to finally be free of their abuse… but they’ve taught him to keep his distance from people henceforth. such has caused oswald to avoid relationships and isolate himself in his own, little world. it isn’t until he met ravi that oswald knew compassion from another person… 
good thing his only friend is an immortal, right? maybe he’ll never face grief because of that. 
8. what they like to eat
finally, i don’t have to hurt my boys anymore. so, ravi is an impressive chef - i mean, he’s downright masterful in the kitchen. he prefers traditional food from his homeland overall, but is very much open to trying new things. believe it or not, ravi has quite the sweet tooth! his favorite would have to be eclairs, with macarons as a close second. 
oswald doesn’t particularly have a favorite meal? i mean, he’ll really eat anything that you’d present to him… but he does have a soft spot for seafood. which is something his dear friend happens to excel at making. but if i’m being honest, oswald could survive on nothing but coffee and be fine. 
10. their fashion sense
i’m not necessarily sure how to describe ravi’s fashion sense, as he’s usually dressed in robes and sleeveless tops. i’d say traditional, but not really at the same time? to be honest, he believes in looking formal, yet being comfortable first and foremost. 
moreover, oswald wears his uniform 99% of the time but that in itself is fancy and suits his character quite well. while he doesn’t “dress to impress”, oswald does make an effort to make himself look presentable for the sake of his workplace; however, i’d be lying if i said he’s never smiled at his own reflection before. to be fair, he does look rather elegant in his uniform. 
12. their romantic life
after a lot of trial and error, ravi eventually accepts he’ll never reunite with his family… and begins a stable, happy relationship with my boyfriend’s oc, luther! they’ve been married since the moment their eyes first met, honestly. very lovey-dovey and ravi will cook his favorite meals and they’ll go on extravagant dates and… sigh. i love these husbands. let’s hope nothing happens to luther
meanwhile, oswald love life is… empty. while he developed feelings for ravi long before he met luther, oswald never had the courage to confess. therefore, he can only watch as the man he loved flies away in the wind… while oswald begrudgingly carries himself to his job each day and is smothered to death by a mountain of paperwork. rip oswald 
14. how they react to burning their tongue on food
well, ravi has an incredibly sweet husband who will kiss away the pain… while oswald overreacts and acts as if he’s dying. listen… as a gay he’s legally obligated to be dramatic about every minor inconvenience. 
16. their dreams
currently, ravi’s dream is to marry luther and live happily ever after with him… while completely ignoring the fact he’s immortal and there’s a cult after his head for that very purpose. but hey! as of right now, they’re perfectly fine! :) 
sadly, oswald doesn’t have any dreams… because he’s accepted his lonely existence as unchanging, and will continue to drag himself to the office each day without a real purpose. hopefully a certain grayson will come along and convince him otherwise… but oswald’s already decided he’ll just spend the rest of his life working, as if it’s the only thing he’s capable of. 
18. how they sleep
sometimes, it’s difficult for ravi to sleep due to the nightmares that plague his mind… but nowadays, he’ll often find peace within luther’s arms. as if he’s keeping the ghosts of ravi’s failure away, which is yet another reason ravi is so indebted (and in love) with him. i know i’ve gone on about them enough, but ravi and luther’s relationship is so beautiful to be honest. two, broken men who’ve lost everything find solace at last with each other. 
…. as for oswald, he collapses immediately the moment he’s home from the office. exhausted doesn’t even begin to describe his condition; oswald hardly cares about eating dinner, he just wants to SLEEP
and when he does sleep, it’s rather soundly. the only time oswald isn’t troubled by anything. 
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savvylark · 7 years ago
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Not Your Mama’s Hallmark Christmas Part 1
 Thank you to the amazing @javistg being my beta and encouraging. 
Katniss tends to be cynical about materialism, love, and marriage. Her friends have replaced the family she lost. So when Peeta needs help, her friends don’t need more than a strong arm to convince her. Katniss finds herself having a very different  Christmas this year with the Mellark family, posing as Peeta’s girlfriend. What will change when this starts to look like a strange Hallmark movie? 
Ready for part 2?
The air is thick with affection and laughter. Snow lightly falls, twinkling and tumbling outside the window, echoing the light-hearted mood inside.
The cynic in me can’t stand the jolly commercialism that the winter season brings. Despite all of this I can’t help but truly enjoy myself when we all get together, as if we are a real family celebrating Christmas.
Madge and Gale’s upscale apartment looks like West Elm meets Martha Stewart’s holiday catalog. Spread after spread of delicious and appropriately holiday themed hors d'oeuvre and snacks are on every surface. Wine and seasonal cocktails have been flowing.
“Hey! I don’t judge you with your choices in men!” Peeta’s tone is serious, but his expression says otherwise. He’s already 3 spiked eggnogs in, following tradition.
Finnick, Annie, and Thresh’s new girlfriend, Rue, are laughing around the table as I tease Peeta about his newest ex-girlfriend.
“I’m just saying, with a name like Glimmer? I mean, do shiny objects keep her occupied?” I ask Peeta.
He winces, but smiles.
“Is she confessing personal problems with that nickname?” I smirk, as the whole table erupts in laughter.
Gale and Madge are also pulled out of their own little world leaning near the wet bar.
Tresh joins us from the kitchen, shaking his head, amused at our usual banter. Thresh hands his girlfriend Rue another egg nog, placing a platter of food in front of us. Always playing host.
Peeta bites his lip to repress his laughter. Ugh, I love and hate when he does that.
He looks in my eyes and jabs back at me.
“Oh, you’re one to talk. A nickname like Marvel didn’t give you any clue that you had found your very own Sheldon Cooper?” Peeta’s blue eyes twinkle with amusement.
I scowl, but my eyes reveal the laughter I’m stifling. “Who doesn’t like the Marvel movies? I should have known that meant he would be SO into comic books!” I snap back with equal amusement. “And Cosplay.”
We all chuckle, there’s nothing wrong with cosplay, it’s just not my scene at all. A hilariously poor match.
Peeta looks over at Johanna.
“Jo, what was that hipster guy’s name you dated, the one who never showered? Bright?”
Jo scowls, but her eyes prove she’s just as amused as we are. “Hey, don’t bash a hipster! You’re looking at one.” She winks and continues. “BLIGHT was his name!”
“I hated that guy!” Thresh adds.
If our own 6’6” gigantic teddy bear didn’t even like the guy, that’s saying something.
Johanna sighs. “He was a disaster! I appreciate a man who has an aversion to anything mainstream, but he used it as a reason to have zero responsibility for anything. Blight, I’m positive he made that name up! Rhymes with flight. That should have been my first clue.”
She goes on to tells about the time he asked a librarian if they had showers in their bathroom. That’s how Jo promptly left Blight, stranded at the library.
Chatter continues throughout the room.
Johanna leans her body towards Peeta and pokes his side. “Weelllll, Peeta-bread, what are you going to do for your mom’s insane Christmas bash for all the rich snobs without Sparkle for the holidays?” Johanna pries, emphasis on the ridiculous name.
Peeta makes a low growl noise in his throat and shakes his head, raking his fingers through his hair.
“That’s why you started dating Glitter in the first place, right? To get your mean ol’ mommy Mellark off your back?” She’s teasing, but some concern is evident in her expression. She cares. Prickly, sarcastic Johanna Mason has always had a soft spot for the people she loves.
Every one of us knows just how awful Peeta’s mother can be. Last year easily takes the cake as being the height of humiliation. Peeta brought up the topic of marriage to his heiress and mother-approved girlfriend of 4 years. Her rejection lead to their break up, and left him a broken man.
Right before a prominent holiday season.
Peeta’s mother was awful to him the entire visit for Christmas.
Peeta is determined to avoid a repeat.
All of us stayed nearby our college town, hours from our hometowns, for similar broken or dysfunctional family reasons.
Staying together also means having the second family we’ve found in our friends.
We all went to Panem State together at various points of arrival. Gale, Peeta, and Finnick had been in their 3rd year when Madge and I started.
Thresh and I were fast friends our freshman year and started regular pizza and movie nights with Madge and Gale, our pseudo family slowly fell into place.
Johanna was, and still is, my roommate who I met through Peeta and Finnick.
Sweet Rue, Thresh’s girlfriend, became an easy addition in the last year.
Peeta doesn’t answer Johanna’s question. The conversation steers to memorable Christmas parties and ugly sweaters.
Jo smirks at me. “Remember that time–,”
“Oh I remember! Johanna tricked me into wearing the ugliest sweater at a party that WASN’T an ugly sweater party. I thought I was going to win!” I grit my teeth and scowl at the memory.
“Three years in a row!” Johanna adds, to my humiliation.
I growl.
I’m met with amused smiles and laughter.
Finnick delves into a ridiculous story about a friend who was wearing Christmas lights in his ugly sweater and nearly landed him a Darwin Award by electrocution.
Finnick heroically kicked him in the chest to unplug the lights, but in doing so, he embedded broken bulbs in the guy’s chest.
That party ended with a trip to the ER treating the friend’s electrocution and stitches.
The details he adds, no one could make up.
Finnick’s knack for acquiring stories is phenomenal. We’re all in stitches, laughing until our sides hurt.
“Well, Peet, if you have to go to the party alone, at least Annie and I will be there to take some of the pressure off,” Finnick says to his best friend as Annie hands him his coat.
Annie’s parents are old friends of the Mellarks, so she’s been to their parties since childhood and is well acquainted with how important appearances are, and the pressure Mrs. Mellark puts on her youngest son.
Behind them is Rue, also carrying 2 coats.
Thresh lifts me into his arms in his signature crushing hug.
Rue giggles as I make a show of gasping for air.
The couples continue to exchange their goodbyes, and ‘Merry Christmases’ handing each of us a present and head out of Madge and Gale’s apartment.
I watch the couples head to the stairs, hand in hand.
Rue’s warm brown eyes rarely leave Thresh’s face. She smiles softly as he talks to her with such affection. The look in his eyes says Rue is everything.
I know my friend. He’s in love.
Annie and Finnick are more playful.
Annie blushes as Finnick whispers in her ear then kisses her cheek. She’s pushes him away. Bumps his shoulder a little while their fingers remain entwined. Annie’s giggle is infectious and echoes through the stairwell. Again, it’s the look Finnick has in his eyes that melts my Grinchly heart. Annie holds his heart for eternity.
Then, it hits me.
Maybe I do want that some day?
I’ve never admitted it to myself.
Everyone knows I have scoffed at love and marriage, probably since the very first boy that caught my eye when I was 16.
But people change.
I shrug my shoulders and shut the apartment door, and those thoughts.
Jo has clearly had too many drinks at this point, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. “I would definitely help you out if I wasn’t set on getting my ass to the beach. I just can’t stand family gatherings. And, as fun as it would be to piss your mom off, I think you’re hoping for someone to take away the attention rather than direct more to you, amiright??” she pauses and shoves Peeta. “I TOLD YOU, ask her!” Johanna whisper-yells in her drunken state.
Peeta’s face is red.
I’m pretty sure at one point Jo skipped the eggnog and has been downing the hard stuff straight.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
I purse my lips and try to think of who ‘her’ she’s referring to.
I’ve also never understood why his parents make this party such a big deal, but my own parents were very casual about gatherings.
When I had parents anyway.
Peeta has stressed about this Christmas party every year, but it was after he graduated that he made a point to always bring a girl.
For his mother’s sake.
Peeta looks sheepish, sighs and rubs the back of his neck. Then he turns to me.
Wait, me?
Oh. no.
I’ve seen this hallmark movie.  I’m more of a Grinch character myself.
Okay, calm down, it’s just Peeta. Still, I start shaking my head.
Madge gives me this mad-scientist look, raises her eyebrows and I can see her wheels turning now.
She’s gone into planner-mode.
I know Madge is feeling guilty she can’t be there for her cousin Peeta.
Madge typically attends her Aunt and Uncle’s annual holiday party in Merchant. Had she not organized a charity event for childhood cancer that same weekend she would be. It’s hard to keep up with her event planning, and it’s busiest around the holidays and wedding season.
Also, being a senator’s daughter has expectations of it’s own. There are other obligations that she needs to attend.
I would hate to have to deal with the expectations and pressure Madge has, which she handles with such grace.
I imagine when Gale does finally pop the question with that ring burning a hole in his pocket the event itself is going to be insane, and the planning will be flawless.
Madge is very good at what she does.
I dart back and grab another drink while Madge joins Jo and Peeta to conspire.
I groan.
“So Gale, do you have any interesting plans coming up?” I elbow my best friend playfully.
I have been teasing him for months about asking Madge that daunting, er, I mean magical question.
I helped Gale pick out the near-colorless solitaire in a rose-gold setting, and I learned more than I ever wanted to about engagement rings that day.
Diamonds haunted the back of my eyelids for days.
Our cool-calm-and-collected Gale has been a little smug about revealing any engagement plans. Yet he turns into a giddy kid on Christmas morning anytime I mention, or raise my eyebrows in a silent question.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Gale teases back, but can’t keep the gigantic grin off his face.
“Well I better be the first one to hear it!” I say with a wink.
Gale rolls his eyes, laughs, but nods.
We know I will.
It’s actually contagious, to see my best friend so in love, I’m almost giddy with him.
Weird.
So maybe I’m not so allergic to happy endings either.
“Katniss!! We need your help!” Madge says in a sing-songy voice.
I grimace, let out a deep sigh and give Gale a pleading look.
He just shrugs.
Great. No allies here.
And so begins my acting career as Peeta Mellark’s girlfriend for the Holidays with his family.
Madge starts jotting down notes. She lists a hair salon, a wax center, a list of clothing, make up, shoes. Asking Peeta which family members will be in town for the week. Other tentative events –all of which made my childhood Christmases as a poor girl from the wrong side of town sound so meagre.
I’m already a fish out of water.
“I don’t, I don’t even know how–,” I stammer.
Madge interrupts,“Oh, nonsense! I’ll teach you everything, we have time to prepare. Just be yourself, Katniss. You’ve always had a calming effect on Peeta. He needs you and I can’t be there. Everything will be fine, Katniss!”
Jo is finding all of this amusing. “Hey, don’t be brainless! You get to pretend to be a different version of yourself. Haven’t you ever wondered what it would have been like to have more growing up? I have! This could be fun!” Johanna is surprisingly convincing for how drunk she is.
I have to admit, all the things Madge is talking about would be an experience, and I’m not alone. I’ll be with our friend Peeta the whole time.
Now I’m looking at Madge, then Peeta, and back.
“Can we establish a safe word? When it’s too much and I need an escape? I could say ‘do you want to build a snowman?’ Instead of making a run for it.” I try to make light of it but I’m a known flight risk. We all understand this.
“Absolutely, I can help you with an escape to a quiet place, just say so.” Peeta reassures me.
I hesitate and fiddle with my hands.
“All the Mellark baked goods will be on tap the whole week,” he adds.
I look sceptical. “If we’re doing this, we’re going to make it fun. Promise?” I add.
“I promise!” Peeta replies.
“Also, you’re so lucky Prim is off the grid, helping with medical needs from the hurricanes!” I tease. He knows I would never pick this over a Christmas with my sister.
I’m also keeping his little crisis in perspective, this isn’t a real crisis at all.
“Fine. I’ll do it,” I say with a huff.
Johanna and Madge cheer.
Gale is laughing at my predicament.
“You’re the best, Everdeen!” Peeta wraps me up in a tight full body hug.
I stiffen a little but don’t pull away.
I’m just not much for hugging, but I’ve tried to get used to Peeta’s, Thresh’s and, well, probably half our friends touchy, affectionate tendencies.Especially after the alcohol is flowing.
It surprises me that of all our friends, it’s actually Peeta and Annie whose touchy tendencies turn from affection to questionable around me after a few drinks.
Peeta keeps his body flush to mine and this hug is turning not so innocent.
I shove him back playfully. I have stories.
“Easy tiger! That reminds me. Let’s work through some rules? I think for all intents and purposes we should appear to be dating exclusively, just out of respect for each other. Try to keep excessive flirting with the ladies to a minimum?” I ask of Peeta.
“Noted. Only flirt with you.” Peeta grins widely and emphasizes you with his finger to my nose.
I roll my eyes.
“What about you, Peeta? Ground rules for your lovely girlfriend?” I ask with a sarcastic tone, batting my eyes in mock flirtation.
Jo smirks.
Madge is busy in thought.
Gale is cleaning up.
“Oh um, yeah, don’t jingle anyone else’s Christmas bells?” He grins.
I glare at him.
He laughs. “The only sleigh you should be riding is–,”
“PEETA!” I interrupt, trying to scowl, but my amusement shows.
Jo gives him a high five.
“Okay, OKAY! Umm, I’m going to be myself, so I’m going to be affectionate in front of people,” Peeta says while my eyes go wide, he’s not suggesting…  “No! Nothing crazy. I just mean hand holding, arm around your shoulder, light touching. The kind a grandma would approve of. Try not to resist me,” he says with a wink.
Then he demonstrates by putting an arm around me.
Did it just get a little warmer in here? I shrug my shoulders up a little. Then I remind myself not to resist.
Madge and Jo laugh at me while I struggle.
Peeta has his Casanova smile, then he leans in.
I start to breath heavier when his hot breath tickles my neck.
“Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it,” he whispers.
My cheeks go red and I shove him away as Madge and Jo hoot and holler.
I shake my head and laugh with them.
I grab some ice out of my water cup and smear it all over Peeta’s face.
“Cool it there, Don Lothario! Not everyone is comfortable with such blatant forwardness!” I say grinning. I know I’ve won this round.
“Back to their antics!” Johanna mumbles.
Jo and Madge start whispering.
Nope, I’m not going to stick around for the teasing that will follow.
“Hey I’m going to get going. Jo, do you need a ride to our apartment? Peeta you’re staying here?” I ask the two who don’t live in this upscale apartment.
“I’m good,” Peeta says with a nod, raising  another drink in his hand, meaning he’s staying here.  
Jo grabs her coat as I say my goodbyes and hand out my remaining few Christmas gifts to our friends.
It’s so nice to have Christmas here every year.
Jo and I are adult orphans, so this is our family Christmas. Or was.
Now I’m joining Peeta’s family. 
135 notes · View notes
winterinpanem · 7 years ago
Text
Not Your Mama's Hallmark Christmas part 1/3
The air is thick with affection and laughter. Snow lightly falls, twinkling and tumbling outside the window, echoing the light-hearted mood inside.
  The cynic in me can’t stand the jolly commercialism that the winter season brings. Despite all of this I can’t help but truly enjoy myself when we all get together, as if we are a real family celebrating Christmas.
  Madge and Gale’s upscale apartment looks like West Elm meets Martha Stewart's holiday catalog. Spread after spread of delicious and appropriately holiday themed hors d'oeuvre and snacks are on every surface. Wine and seasonal cocktails have been flowing.
  “Hey! I don't judge you with your choices in men!” Peeta’s tone is serious, but his expression says otherwise. He’s already 3 spiked eggnogs in, following tradition.
  Finnick, Annie, and Thresh’s new girlfriend, Rue, are laughing around the table as I tease Peeta about his newest ex-girlfriend.
  “I'm just saying, with a name like Glimmer? I mean, do shiny objects keep her occupied?” I ask Peeta.
  He winces, but smiles.
  “Is she confessing personal problems with that nickname?” I smirk, as the whole table erupts in laughter.
  Gale and Madge are also pulled out of their own little world leaning near the wet bar.
  Tresh joins us from the kitchen, shaking his head, amused at our usual banter. Thresh hands his girlfriend Rue another eggnog, placing a platter of food in front of us. Always playing host.
  Peeta bites his lip to repress his laughter. Ugh, I love and hate when he does that.
  He looks in my eyes and jabs back at me.
  “Oh, you're one to talk. A nickname like Marvel didn't give you any clue that you had found your very own Sheldon Cooper?” Peeta's blue eyes twinkle with amusement.
  I scowl, but my eyes reveal the laughter I'm stifling. “Who doesn't like the Marvel movies? I should have known that meant he would be SO into comic books!” I snap back with equal amusement. “And Cosplay.”
  We all chuckle, there's nothing wrong with cosplay, it's just not my scene at all. A hilariously poor match.
  Peeta looks over at Johanna.
  “Jo, what was that hipster guy's name you dated, the one who never showered? Bright?”
  Jo scowls, but her eyes prove she's just as amused as we are. “Hey, don't bash a hipster! You’re looking at one.” She winks and continues. “BLIGHT was his name!”
  “I hated that guy!” Thresh adds.
  If our own 6’6” gigantic teddy bear didn’t even like the guy, that's saying something.
  Johanna sighs. “He was a disaster! I appreciate a man who has an aversion to anything mainstream, but he used it as a reason to have zero responsibility for anything. Blight, I'm positive he made that name up! Rhymes with flight. That should have been my first clue.”
  She goes on to tells about the time he asked a librarian if they had showers in their bathroom. That’s how Jo promptly left Blight, stranded at the library.
  Chatter continues throughout the room.
  Johanna leans her body towards Peeta and pokes his side. “Weelllll, Peeta-bread, what are you going to do for your mom's insane Christmas bash for all the rich snobs without Sparkle for the holidays?” Johanna pries, emphasis on the ridiculous name.
  Peeta makes a low growl noise in his throat and shakes his head, raking his fingers through his hair.
  “That's why you started dating Glitter in the first place, right? To get your mean ol’ mommy Mellark off your back?” She's teasing, but some concern is evident in her expression. She cares. Prickly, sarcastic Johanna Mason has always had a soft spot for the people she loves.
  Every one of us knows just how awful Peeta’s mother can be.
Last year easily takes the cake as being the height of humiliation. Peeta brought up the topic of marriage to his heiress and mother-approved girlfriend of 4 years. Her rejection lead to their break up, and left him a broken man.
  Right before a prominent holiday season.
  Peeta's mother was awful to him the entire visit for Christmas.
  Peeta is determined to avoid a repeat.
  All of us stayed nearby our college town, hours from our hometowns, for similar broken or dysfunctional family reasons.
  Staying together also means having the second family we've found in our friends.
We all went to Panem State together at various points of arrival. Gale, Peeta, and Finnick had been in their 3rd year when Madge and I started.
  Thresh and I were fast friends our freshman year and started regular pizza and movie nights with Madge and Gale, our pseudo family slowly fell into place.
  Johanna was, and still is, my roommate who I met through Peeta and Finnick.
  Sweet Rue, Thresh’s girlfriend, became an easy addition in the last year.
  Peeta doesn't answer Johanna’s question. The conversation steers to memorable Christmas parties and ugly sweaters.
  Jo smirks at me. “Remember that time--,”
  “Oh I remember! Johanna tricked me into wearing the ugliest sweater at a party that WASN'T an ugly sweater party. I thought I was going to win!” I grit my teeth and scowl at the memory.
  “Three years in a row!” Johanna adds, to my humiliation.
  I growl.
  I'm met with amused smiles and laughter.
  Finnick delves into a ridiculous story about a friend who was wearing Christmas lights in his ugly sweater and nearly landed him a Darwin Award by electrocution.
  Finnick heroically kicked him in the chest to unplug the lights, but in doing so, he embedded broken bulbs in the guy's chest.
  That party ended with a trip to the ER treating the friend’s electrocution and stitches.
  The details he adds, no one could make up.
  Finnick's knack for acquiring stories is phenomenal. We're all in stitches, laughing until our sides hurt.
  “Well, Peet, if you have to go to the party alone, at least Annie and I will be there to take some of the pressure off,” Finnick says to his best friend as Annie hands him his coat.
  Annie’s parents are old friends of the Mellarks, so she's been to their parties since childhood and is well acquainted with how important appearances are, and the pressure Mrs. Mellark puts on her youngest son.
  Behind them is Rue, also carrying 2 coats.
  Thresh lifts me into his arms in his signature crushing hug.
  Rue giggles as I make a show of gasping for air.
  The couples continue to exchange their goodbyes, and ‘Merry Christmases’ handing each of us a present and head out of Madge and Gale’s apartment.
  I watch the couples head to the stairs, hand in hand.
  Rue’s warm brown eyes rarely leave Thresh’s face. She smiles softly as he talks to her with such affection. The look in his eyes says Rue is everything.
  I know my friend. He's in love.
  Annie and Finnick are more playful.
  Annie blushes as Finnick whispers in her ear then kisses her cheek. She's pushes him away. Bumps his shoulder a little while their fingers remain entwined. Annie's giggle is infectious and echoes through the stairwell. Again, it's the look Finnick has in his eyes that melts my Grinchly heart. Annie holds his heart for eternity.
  Then, it hits me.
  Maybe I do want that some day?
  I've never admitted it to myself.
  Everyone knows I have scoffed at love and marriage, probably since the very first boy that caught my eye when I was 16.
  But people change.
  I shrug my shoulders and shut the apartment door, and those thoughts.
  Jo has clearly had too many drinks at this point, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear.
“I would definitely help you out if I wasn't set on getting my ass to the beach. I just can't stand family gatherings. And, as fun as it would be to piss your mom off, I think you're hoping for someone to take away the attention rather than direct more to you, amiright??” she pauses and shoves Peeta. “I TOLD YOU, ask her!” Johanna whisper-yells in her drunken state.
  Peeta's face is red.
  I'm pretty sure at one point Jo skipped the eggnog and has been downing the hard stuff straight.
  Wouldn't be the first time.
  I purse my lips and try to think of who ‘her' she’s referring to.
  I've also never understood why his parents make this party such a big deal, but my own parents were very casual about gatherings.
  When I had parents anyway.
  Peeta has stressed about this Christmas party every year, but it was after he graduated that he made a point to always bring a girl.
  For his mother's sake.
  Peeta looks sheepish, sighs and rubs the back of his neck. Then he turns to me.
  Wait, me?
  Oh. no.
  I've seen this hallmark movie.  
  Okay, calm down, it's just Peeta. Still, I start shaking my head.
  Madge gives me this mad-scientist look, raises her eyebrows and I can see her wheels turning now.
  She's gone into planner-mode.
  I know Madge is feeling guilty she can't be there for her cousin Peeta.
  Madge typically attends her Aunt and Uncle’s annual holiday party in Merchant. Had she not organized a charity event for childhood cancer that same weekend she would be.
It's hard to keep up with her event planning, and it's busiest around the holidays and wedding season.
  Also, being a senator's daughter has expectations of it's own. There are other obligations that she needs to attend.
  I would hate to have to deal with the expectations and pressure Madge has, which she handles with such grace.
  I imagine when Gale does finally pop the question with that ring burning a hole in his pocket the event itself is going to be insane, and the planning will be flawless.
  Madge is very good at what she does.
  I dart back and grab another drink while Madge joins Jo and Peeta to conspire.
  I groan.
  “So Gale, do you have any interesting plans coming up?” I elbow my best friend playfully.
  I have been teasing him for months about asking Madge that daunting, er, I mean magical question.
  I helped Gale pick out the near-colorless solitaire in a rose-gold setting, and I learned more than I ever wanted to about engagement rings that day.
  Diamonds haunted the back of my eyelids for days.
  Our cool-calm-and-collected Gale has been a little smug about revealing any engagement plans. Yet he turns into a giddy kid on Christmas morning anytime I mention, or raise my eyebrows in a silent question.
  “Wouldn't you like to know?” Gale teases back, but can't keep the gigantic grin off his face.
  “Well I better be the first one to hear it!” I say with a wink.
  Gale rolls his eyes, laughs, but nods.
  We know I will.
  It's actually contagious, to see my best friend so in love, I'm almost giddy with him.
  Weird.
  So maybe I'm not so allergic to happy endings either.
“Katniss!! We need your help!” Madge says in a sing-songy voice.
  I grimace, let out a deep sigh and give Gale a pleading look.
  He just shrugs.
  Great. No allies here.
  And so begins my acting career as Peeta Mellark’s girlfriend for the Holidays with his family.
  Madge starts jotting down notes. She lists a hair salon, a wax center, a list of clothing, make up, shoes. Asking Peeta which family members will be in town for the week. Other tentative events --all of which made my childhood Christmases as a poor girl from the wrong side of town sound so meagre.
  I'm already a fish out of water.
  “I don't, I don't even know how--,” I stammer.
  Madge interrupts,“Oh, nonsense! I'll teach you everything, we have time to prepare. Just be yourself, Katniss. You've always had a calming effect on Peeta. He needs you and I can't be there. Everything will be fine, Katniss!”
  Jo is finding all of this amusing. “Hey, don't be brainless! You get to pretend to be a different version of yourself. Haven't you ever wondered what it would have been like to have more growing up? I have! This could be fun!” Johanna is surprisingly convincing for how drunk she is.
  I have to admit, all the things Madge is talking about would be an experience, and I'm not alone. I'll be with our friend Peeta the whole time.
  Now I'm looking at Madge, then Peeta, and back.
  “Can we establish a safe word? When it's too much and I need an escape? I could say ‘do you want to build a snowman?’ Instead of making a run for it.” I try to make light of it but I'm a known flight risk. We all understand this.
  “Absolutely, I can help you with an escape to a quiet place, just say so.” Peeta reassures me.
  I hesitate and fiddle with my hands.
  “All the Mellark baked goods will be on tap the whole week,” he adds.
  I look sceptical. “If we're doing this, we're going to make it fun. Promise?” I add.
  “I promise!” Peeta replies.
  “Also, you're so lucky Prim is off the grid, helping with medical needs from the hurricanes!” I tease. He knows I would never pick this over a Christmas with my sister.
  I'm also keeping his little crisis in perspective, this isn't a real crisis at all.
  “Fine. I'll do it,” I say with a huff.
  Johanna and Madge cheer.
  Gale is laughing at my predicament.
  “You're the best, Everdeen!” Peeta wraps me up in a tight full body hug.
  I stiffen a little but don't pull away.
  I'm just not much for hugging, but I've tried to get used to Peeta’s, Thresh's and, well, probably half our friends touchy, affectionate tendencies.Especially after the alcohol is flowing.
  It surprises me that of all our friends, it’s actually Peeta and Annie whose touchy tendencies turn from affection to questionable around me after a few drinks.
  Peeta keeps his body flush to mine and this hug is turning not so innocent.
  I shove him back playfully. I have stories.
  “Easy tiger! That reminds me. Let's work through some rules? I think for all intents and purposes we should appear to be dating exclusively, just out of respect for each other. Try to keep excessive flirting with the ladies to a minimum?” I ask of Peeta.
  “Noted. Only flirt with you.” Peeta grins widely and emphasizes you with his finger to my nose.
  I roll my eyes.
  “What about you, Peeta? Ground rules for your lovely girlfriend?” I ask with a sarcastic tone, batting my eyes in mock flirtation.
  Jo smirks.
  Madge is busy in thought.
  Gale is cleaning up.
  “Oh um, yeah, don't jingle anyone else's Christmas bells?” He grins.
  I glare at him.
  He laughs. “The only sleigh you should be riding is--,”
  “PEETA!” I interrupt, trying to scowl, but my amusement shows.
  Jo gives him a high five.
“Okay, OKAY! Umm, I'm going to be myself, so I'm going to be affectionate in front of people,” Peeta says while my eyes go wide, he's not suggesting...  “No! Nothing crazy. I just mean hand holding, arm around your shoulder, light touching. The kind a grandma would approve of. Try not to resist me,” he says with a wink.
  Then he demonstrates by putting an arm around me.
  Did it just get a little warmer in here? I shrug my shoulders up a little. Then I remind myself not to resist.
  Madge and Jo laugh at me while I struggle.
  Peeta has his Casanova smile, then he leans in.
  I start to breath heavier when his hot breath tickles my neck.
  “Remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it,” he whispers.
  My cheeks go red and I shove him away as Madge and Jo hoot and holler.
  I shake my head and laugh with them.
  I grab some ice out of my water cup and smear it all over Peeta’s face.
  “Cool it there, Don Lothario! Not everyone is comfortable with such blatant forwardness!” I say grinning. I know I've won this round.
  “Back to their antics!” Johanna mumbles.
  Jo and Madge start whispering.
  Nope, I'm not going to stick around for the teasing that will follow.
  “Hey I'm going to get going. Jo, do you need a ride to our apartment? Peeta you're staying here?” I ask the two who don't live in this upscale apartment.
  “I'm good,” Peeta says with a nod, raising  another drink in his hand, meaning he's staying here.  
  Jo grabs her coat as I say my goodbyes and hand out my remaining few Christmas gifts to our friends.
  It's so nice to have Christmas here every year.
  Jo and I are adult orphans, so this is our family Christmas. Or was.
  Now I'm joining Peeta’s family.
  The lights and sounds of the impending Christmas week are evident as we make our way through downtown. The obnoxious bright lights that glimmer in the night linger and burn as I drive.
The snow falling lightly reminds me that I long for the woods, and the sight of a star or two would be a welcome sight. I keep my eyes on the road.
The slush sounds that accompany driving in these conditions are drowned by the warm buzz of contentment our friends bring when we are all together.
  Well, Johanna is still buzzed from spiked eggnog.
  As we drive back to our apartment, Johanna talks about her upcoming trip to the coast.
  “I'm hoping I can score a fling for the week like you did when you visited Abernathy’s that one summer. How did you snag him by the way?”
  Ugh. I don't want to say. It further confirms, to my friend's amusement, my poor judgement in choices of companionship.
  I met him through my uncle's step-son, who lead with his own line. “Hey did you know it's legal to marry your cousin here?”
  YUCK!  That should have been a clue that his friend would also turn out to be a weirdo.
  The beach was amazing with a strong handsome man who was so into me. It was a wild trist.
  By the end of the week, I learned enough about him to be happy to leave it there.
  Southern gentleman my ass. He started bragging about fights he'd been in.
  No thank you.
  The tipping point was when he started a story with: “Look, I'm not racist, but…” then continued with a racist comment.
  Nope. You. are. DISMISSED.
“Oh I met that guy through Effie’s nephew,” I reply, but I'm still disgusted thinking about him.
  My roommate gives me a thoughtful look. “You know, Brainless, you could have your own little something at casa de Mellark?” she says with mischief in her eyes.
  I scowl.
  “Oh come on, you seriously can't tell me you're not at all attracted to Peeta Mellark? That your ‘antics' couldn't lead to more? You never thought about hitting that? Probably any woman who has even met him has…” Jo insists incredulous of my scowl.
  “FINE! Of course, I have! When we were younger, he would meet us at Madge’s pool parties. He was older and dreamy. The hair, the body, the eyes? Yes all of it. For a shy, hormonal teenage girl to get his attention, even for a minute was...ahh!” I have to catch my breath at the memory.
  “But I knew he was out of my league. Then, you know, at college it was easy to live in the friend zone. Besides, he dates girls from old money, like Cashmere De Young, and I'm--,” I confess, gesturing to myself.
  Johanna interrupts. “Incredible? Genuine? Real? Radiant with no make up? Smart? Funny? Loyal? I could go on…”
  I'm surprised at my usually sarcastic friend's words of affirmation. It takes me a minute to take it in. “Hmm.”
  “He's not out of your league. He never was. You have to believe that! You are unique, not some cookie-cutter bimbo dripping with daddy's money. Don't for one second think a girl like that has anything on you!” Jo insists.
  Wow.
  I'm not really sure what Johanna was trying to achieve by this pep talk, but I'm a little choked-up!
  I just nod.
  Barely a whisper, but I manage to say, “Thank you, Jo.”
  She just smiles in reply. Then waves off my comment implying ‘it was nothing.’
That night I revisit memories I have long buried. It's all Jo’s fault.
  “Madge! You did not tell me there were going to be so many hot guys here!” I scowl at my closest girl friend as I fiddle nervously with the green bikini she convinced me to wear. I'm not really a bikini kind of girl.
  “Relax Katniss! Don't even start. You hang out with the hotness that is Gale Hawthorne all the time. Besides, you know all these guys from school.” She gestures toward the guys at the refreshment table. I do recognize each of them.
  “And those,” Madge gestures to the hottest guy I've ever seen standing with a few other swimsuit clad high schoolers near the diving board. “--are my cousin and his friends.”
  Madge says and gives me a knowing smile as she watches my jaw drop.
  “Th-th-THAT is the cousin that used to tease us and chase us? The one who used to bring treats from his parent's bakery?!”
  Madge nods, trying to hold in a laugh.
  This time my eyes rove over the muscular, tall blond, I take in his chiseled chest, muscular arms…
  As he dives into the pool I get a glimpse of his backside and it is ridiculous.
  Madge is laughing at me.
  “Katniss, I've never seen you like this! It took 16 years for a boy turn your head and it's my cousin of all people?!” Madge laughs incredulously.
  I bite my lip, but keep my eyes on the water.
  “Katniss has a crush!” Madge mocks. I was indeed the very definition of a late bloomer.
  “I do not!” I argued, but she was right.
  Peeta was a senior, and boy did he have the swagger of the wrestling champion that he was. Yet, his kindness, and steady protective nature remained the same as the boy I would see a few times a year.
  Peeta had a way of making sure I was always included as kids.
  He would patiently explain the rules to a new game and always seemed to be my ally in anything competitive.
  He wasn't around as much in the high school years, so that day at Madge's pool party, I was looking at a whole new Peeta.
  When he came up from under the water, Peeta whipped his head to the side, swiping his wet mop of hair out of his eyes.
  Jeez, right out GQ magazine.
  I know I'm staring.
  Then he caught my gaze and smiled at me. A blinding smile that made my teenage heart beat faster.
  I replied with a shy smile, and looked down.
  Madge shot me a knowing smirk and shook her head with a laugh.
  Wet arms wrapped around my waist from behind.
  I barely had time to squeak before a dripping wet Peeta pulled me away and jumped into the pool dragging me with him.
  I couldn't even be mad, the pool felt so good on such a hot day. I didn't mind his strong arms around me either.
  We were both laughing as we reached the surface.
  That set the tone for the day.
  As we would mingle with our other friends and swim, Peeta and I would lock eyes. Gravitating back to each other.
  Our interactions seemed to be flirty and playful. It became an unspoken agreement that when we were in the pool, where no one could see, hands could explore.
  The first few times Peeta's hand brushed my thighs or hips in the deep end I didn't think anything of it, but the third time it lingered, I caught on.
  He searched my face for a reaction, which I answered with a smile. I liked his attention.
  The heat between us grew.
  That summer Peeta seemed to show up at Madge's house almost every time we were in the pool.
  The attraction between us was undeniable, but our secret.
  As a shy girl who shut down every previous guy's advances I was in over my head.
  I refused to think about a future with Peeta. After all, he was leaving for college hours away at the end of the summer. However, I would be lying if I said I didn't let this crush invade my thoughts all summer.
  We had our own “antics,” (Jo would call them present day) and ongoing inside jokes, just like when we were kids.
  It had become our mission to get everyone wet who refused to go in the pool at least once.
  Between planned sneak-attacks and belly flops, Peeta and I were undefeated in our mission.
  By the end of the summer, Peeta bought super-soakers for each of us. We snuck around the side of Madge's house, ready to ambush a particularly manicured group of girls, when he pinned me to the house.
  “I've never met a girl like you, Everdeen,” he said, breathlessly. Then Peeta leaned in...
  I never told Madge, but it was Peeta who was my first kiss. Pinned up on the side of her house, 18 year old Peeta Mellark left me breathless and dizzy in a mind blowing kiss.
  I rationalized that it was probably that amazing because it was my first kiss, but I've always wondered why no kiss since then has ever come close.
  Must have been the heat.
  Also, the words super-soaker now have a double meaning I can never forget.
  I lie awake frustrated. “Maybe going with Peeta isn't such a good idea?” I wonder to myself.
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doctorwer · 7 years ago
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Quick and Dirty History of Middle-Earth Part 26 Part C
Part 26 Or So Let’s Play “What Were They Up To Before They Were Famous, Part C”
Names
Aragorn II (Revered King)
Thorongil (Eagle of the Star)
Elessar (Elfstone, given to him in reference to Arwen giving him her Elfstone)
Edhelharn (Sindarin equivalent of Elessar)
Estel (Hope)
Strider (Name used in Bree)
The Dúnadan (Name used by Bilbo)
Longshanks (Another Bree name. Reference to the fact that Bree humans had shorter legs than Aragorn with his Dúnadan heritage).
Arakorno (Quenya form of Aragorn)
Born: Third Age 2931
Age at time of Lord of the Rings: 88
He has too many names. Also, his birthday is March 1st! Anyway, his father was the Chief of the Dúnadan, the Rangers. As was traditional, Aragorn, the future Chef, grew up as a foster child of Elrond. But when he was only 2, his dad, Arathorn, was shot through the eye by an orc. Yikes. Elrond didn’t want it to get out that Aragorn was heir to Gondor and Arnor, so he changed his name to Estel and didn’t tell Aragorn who he really was. Growing up, he would go ranging with Elrohir and Elladan, so he had a good relationship with his future brother-in-laws! That’s good! When Aragorn turned 21, Elrond told him all about Gondor and the throne and his legacy. Normally, books like this would have us see the part where the freak out because they found out they’re royal, but we are able to skip that and pick up at the point where he was cool with it.
Leaving his mom in Rivendell (Oh, yeah. His mom’s still around), Aragorn started going all over the place. Rohan and Gondor and just everywhere. When he was 49, he met Arwen for the 2nd time in Lothlórien on the hill Cerin Amroth and they got engaged. So he’s been engaged since he was 49... and he’s 88 now... So 20 years later, Aragorn helps Gandalf track Gollum down. He does take a brief stop by Rivendell to visit his mother on her death bed. He was 70 at the time she died. After that, he caught Gollum, took him to Mirkwood, and caught up with Frodo!
Names
Théoden (King)
Horsemaster
Ednew
Born: Third Age 2948
Age at time of Lord of the Rings: 70
Théoden was the oldest son of King Thengel of Rohan. He had four sisters. Three have no names, but we learn the name of his favorite, Théodwyn. We only know her because she was also the mother of Éomer and Éowyn. Théoden didn’t speak any Rohirric, since he had been born in Gondor and spent his childhood there. Théoden spoke Common and elvish. Tsk. The elite coming in to rule; he doesn’t even know the language his people speak. After Théodwyn and his brother-in-law died, he adopted Éomer and Éowyn.
Théoden married Elfhild, who got pregnant and had a son, Théodred (they love to name the sons a name that sounds close to the dads. It’s all over the place). Elfhild died giving birth to Théodred. Théoden ruled Rohan for 40 years before Gríma really started to mess Théoden up. Little dick.
Before Gandalf joined the Fellowship, he went to Edoras to warn Théoden about Saruman and to ask for a horse so that he could catch up with the Fellowship. Of course, Théoden was still under Saruman’s control. Théoden told Gandalf to take any horse and GTFO.  Gandalf picked Shadowfax, the bestest best horse in all of Rohan. Shadowfax was descended from legendary horses who could run really fast and really far without stopping. Of course, since Théoden told Gandalf he could take any horse, he couldn’t really say anything.
Names
Gríma (Mask, Visor, Helmet)
Wormtongue 
Born: Whoooooo knoooowwwsssss
Age at time of Lord of the Rings: Probably old. He sounds old.
Gríma is a bit if a mystery. He was the son of Gálmód and a native of Rohan. Pretty simple after that. He became a spy for Saruman because he was promised he could “marry” Éowyn. He used his lies and literal poison and shit to keep Théoden under Saruman’s spell. Gollum had tricked the Ringwraiths into going to the wrong place to find the Shire, but they passed by Wormtounge. The Witch-king questioned Gríma, who was all scared and told the Nazgûl where they could find The Shire and that Gandalf had been through Rohan recently. With Saruman, Gríma’s fate is changed the most from book to film. But we’ll get to that later.
Names
Frodo Baggins (Wise by Experience)
Frodo of the Nine Fingers
Nine-fingered Frodo (What is with named people based on horrible maimings they suffered?)
Frodo Elf-friend
Ring-bearer
Born: Third Age 2968
Age at time of Lord of the Rings: 51 in the book/33-ish in the movie
OK, his age is one of the few things the movies changed that don’t fit well with the rest of cannon. In the books, Gandalf was gone for several years after the party, but Frodo stayed young because of the ring. Not so in the movies, where it looks like Gandalf has been gone a few months. Anyway, Frodo was the only child of Drogo Baggins and Primula Brandybuck. When Frodo was 12, his parents died. They went out boating and some say Drogo’s massive weight sunk the boat, and for some reason they couldn’t swim. Like, why go boating, then? SO, they both drowned. For a long time, Frodo lived with his uncle, Rorimac Brandybuck, Master of Buckland (Remember, that’s one of the three leaders of The Shire). Frodo was a trouble maker. Aw. Adorable. Bilbo adopted Frodo when he was 21. Frodo was 21. Bilbo was 99.
All the hobbits inter-marry to no end, so it’s hard to pin down the exact relationship between Bilbo and Frodo, but it was closer to cousin than uncle. But since Bilbo made Frodo his heir, it probably just seemed proper to call him Uncle Bilbo. Bilbo taught Frodo elvish and a lot of the history of Middle-Earth. The two even had the same birthday. Hobbits came of age at 33. I don’t know why, since they have the same average life spans as humans, 90-100. It seems like they don’t have very long time in the ‘adult’ age bracket. But since their entire lives just seem devoted to eating, drinking, and smoking, I guess they don’t need to be an adult for all that much. It’s not like they can’t drive a car until they come of age or they go away to college when they come of age or something. Anyway, when Frodo turned 33, Bilbo turned 111. Which is the birthday we see in the movie.
Name
Boromir (Steadfast Jewel)
Born: Third Age 2978
Age at time of Lord of the Rings: 41
The oldest son of Denethor II and Finduilas. When Boromir was 10, his mother died. After that, his father was a lot more unpleasant. Even though their father clearly liked Boromir better, Boromir and his brother, Faramir, were very close. Boromir looked after his little brother. So cute. He spent most of his time keeping Team Evil from crossing over into Gondor through Osgiliath. Boromir never cared to marry (make of that what you will). He preferred to fight in battles and shit. And he didn’t care about history, expect the tales of the great battles of old. He was a jock. Faramir and Boromir started having freaking dreams, so Denethor ordered Boromir to go to Rivendell for advice. Faramir really wanted to go. Sad thing is, since Faramir passes on the Ring in the book, if Faramir was the one who went, both brothers might have lived. Boromir lost his horse along the way and had to go the rest of the way on foot, which took 110 days. Ouch.
Name
Théodred
Born: Third Age 2978
Age at time of Lord of the Rings: 41
The only son of Théoden. His mom, Elfhild, died giving birth to him. Théodred was an officer type deal. Second Marshal of the Riddermark. Gríma tried to get Théoden and Éomer in trouble with the king, but they were just too loyal. They always followed Théoden, even if his orders were total crazy balls. Just before we first meet Éomer, Saruman assassinates Théodred. He had his orcs attack with clear orders to definitely kill the prince. There was a huge battle around the river and Saruman’s army that would latter attack Helm’s Deep were trying to get over the river. All this complicated military stuff happened and the strongest orcs charged Théodred at once, which is yesh. He died pretty soon after, but Team Good pushed the orcs back. If you watched the extended movie, you saw Éomer finding his cousin by a river. The regular movie just had Éomer riding up with some guy and then Théodred lying in bed, dying from poison, with Éowyn taking care of him. And then he’s dead. It’s very confusing without that river scene! Like, wait, he’s poisoned??? Why???? Who is he?????
Name
Samwise Gamgee (Simple Minded)
Born: Third Age 2980
Age at time of Lord of the Rings: 39
Ah, Sam. We all know and love Sam. Fun Fact: Tolkien has said that Sam was always intended to be the hero of this piece. Yeah, Frodo carried the Ring. But Sam was the one who saved us all. Mentioned because my sister was all “Blah, Frodo was a horrible hero” and I was all “…No, duh…Kinda the point…” In a letter, Tolkien wrote that Sam was the “chief hero” and he’s the only Ring-bearer to give it up with his own free will, and he ends up saving Frodo over and over again. I almost wonder if it was commentary on typical English ideas at the time? Like, I don’t know what they thought back then in England, but it almost seems like the English expected their heroes to be rich and smart? Like, look at C.S. Lewis’ work? But Sam is even called simple minded, and every character overlooks him and acts like he is less than them. Not in a mean way, but a “I’m from a well-to-do family and you’re a blue collar worker” way. Literally everyone in the Fellowship are nobles in some way except Sam. But, throughout the book, he:
was all sly and did recon re:Frodo to report to Merry
pretended to be asleep so he could listen in on Frodo when he was talking with an elf
was the only one not tricked by Old Man Willow.
he surprises everyone by reciting a poem about Gil-galad from memory
he invents his own song, on the spot
he’s arguably the most level-headed of the hobbits. Nothing much spooks him.
It’s a constant theme that people misjudge him only to be shown up later.
Anyway, Sam is the son of Hamfast “The Gaffer” Gamgee and Bell Goodchild. Sam is the only one of the four hobbits in the Fellowship not even remotely related to them. The rest are all cousins several times over and shit. Like I said. They inter-married out the wazoo. They were all upper class and Sam was lower class. Sam had five brothers and sisters and he lived on Bagshot Row, which was very close to Bag End. Bilbo taught Sam about elves and about the world out there and encouraged Sam’s love of poetry. He also taught Sam to read, which is treated like a big deal, so most of his family probably couldn't. Sam was a gardener, like his father. His father had been the gardener at Bag End, but was retiring and Sam was training to take his place around the time the movie started.
Name
Fredegar “Fatty” Bolger
Born: Third Age 2980
Age at time of Lord of the Rings: 39
Cut from the movie completely. He has a younger sister named Estella who one day marries Merry. He was in on the mission Frodo was on. He helped Marry, Sam, and Pippen secret Frodo out of the Shire. He didn’t want to leave the Shire, which is why he didn’t join them. His job was to stay at Frodo’s new house as a decoy for the Ringwraiths. Eventually, the Ringwraiths showed up, Fatty ran for help, and all of Buckland was woken by the Horn-call of Buckland, which chased the Ringwraiths out.
Names
Meriadoc “Merry” Brandybuck (Great Lord)
Merry the Magnificent
Born: Third Age 2982
Age at time of Lord of the Rings: 37
Merry was the only child of Saradoc Brandybuck and Esmeralda Took. He and Pippin were first cousins. Merry knew something was weird about Bilbo since he was 18, a tween (tween = hobbit culture teenagers. They stay tweens from teen years until they come of age at 33). He saw Bilbo going down the road, when the Sackville-Bagginses came up it. The wife of in this couple would be the hobbit lady that Bilbo mentions in the beginning of The Hobbit and is all “Damn bitch stole all my spoons”. Anyway, Merry saw Bilbo disappear, then reappear on the other side of a hedge. He also saw a glint of gold as Bilbo put something in his pocket. So Merry was pretty suspicious. Little snoop also stole a look in Bilbo’s private journal. Merry didn’t tell anyone what he had seen or learned, though.
He had an important role at the beginning of the book, but that’s cut from the movie. It doesn’t make a huge difference, just made Merry clearly the brightest in the bunch. In the book, Sam, Merry, and Pippin knew that something was wrong with Frodo. Sam was indeed eavesdropping under Frodo’s window that night. It was they were worried about him and Merry came up with a plan to have the three of them go with Frodo. Frodo was planning to move from Bag End to Crickhollow, a house much closer to the edge of The Shire. Frodo, Sam, and Pippen went to Crickhollow where Merry met them. Frodo was all “Dear friends, I cannot stay” and the other hobbits were all “Surprise, Motherfucker! We’re going with you!” Merry was the one who got all their necessary gear and bought their ponies. Then the story continued like normal. We can pretend that Merry did have that plan, but Sam getting caught threw everything off and they had to start before they planned to. Which is why Merry and Pippin were stealing from the field instead of waiting…Just go with it…
Name
Faramir
Born: Third Age 2983
Age at time of Lord of the Rings: 36
My poor baby Faramir. He was the second son of Denethor II and Finduilas. Faramir’s mother died when he was 5. Part of the issue was because she got weak after giving birth to Faramir and never really recovered. That and the fact that Faramir was pretty much a carbon copy of his mom, personality wise, led to Denethor disliking Faramir. Boromir was like their dad, proud and liked to fight. Faramir was more gentle and loved history and music, like their mother. Faramir also became friends with Gandalf, who Denethor hated and was sure was trying to take away his rule of Gondor. Which led to Denethor disliking Faramir even more. He became the Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien, who capture Frodo and Sam. His weird dream is what leads to Boromir going to Rivendell.
Name
Peregrin “Pippin” Took (People who Wandered)
Born: Third Age 2990
Age at time of Lord of the Rings: 29 (omg he’s older than Éomer and Éowyn)
Pippin was the youngest child and only son of Paladin Took II, Thain of the Shire, and Eglantine Banks. Remember that the Thain is the second of three main leaders in The Shire. Pippin and Merry were first cousins. He was also Frodo’s second-cousin, once removed and Bilbo’s first-cousin, twice-removed. Hobbits loved family trees, which is how they can say such detailed relations like this. His older sisters were named Pearl, Pimpernel, and Pervinca. I sense a theme, here. Keep in mind, a hobbit doesn’t come of age until 33, so Pippin was the only minor in the group. That justifies some of his more stupid actions, I guess.
Name
Éomer (Grand War-horse)
Born: Third Age 2991
Age at time of Lord of the Rings: 28
Another one of my babies. Éomer was the son of Éomund and Théodwyn, Théoden’s sister. When Éomer was 11, Éomund was killed chasing a bunch of orcs. After that, Théodwyn became sick and died. Théoden adopted Éomer and his sister and they went to live with their uncle at Meduseld, the Golden Hall. Éomer became good friend with his cousin, Théodred, and the two loved each other like brothers. After that, Éomer became the Third Marshal of Rohan. This means he led the group of defenders of east Rohan. So Éomer lived in Aldburg, a town in east Rohan. He was meeting with his uncle in Edoras when Gríma banished him.
Name
Éowyn (Horse-joy)
Born: Third Age 2995
Age at time of Lord of the Rings: 24
This is my girl, Éowyn. Éowyn’s a BAMF. How many of you can say you’ve killed an unspeakable evil at the tender age of 24. Hell, I’m 22 and the most I’ve done is graduate college. Gotta get my shit together in the next two years. Anyway, this would be the daughter of Éomund and Théodwyn, Théoden’s sister. She was only 7 when her parents died. When Théoden started to fall under Saruman’s spell, Éowyn had to take care of him. What she really wanted to do, of course, was prove herself on the field of battle. 
Part 27 Or So Now Let’s Play ‘Where Are They Now!?’ (FINAL)
Quick and Dirty History of Middle-Earth Pt. 1
Note: Sources for all artwork can be found on the linked pages.
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christopherross7601 · 6 years ago
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The Yule Log Channel
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My aunt and uncle lived up the hill from Martins Ferry, Ohio, high above the river. My uncle ran a used car lot – Snezek’s – and so it was understood that they had a little bit of money and a bigger house than the rest of the family in the Valley.
We would drive there every year at Christmas, first the two and a half hours to Martins Ferry, a pit-stop at my grandmothers, and then a drive up the woods that covered the winding upper roads like a dark cloud. These were family gatherings before distractions, before everyone carried their lives with them in their pocket, so you had to prepare.
I always brought a few books or some Christmas presents to play with. One year I brought my entire Dungeons & Dragons set in an effort to learn how to play – even though I had no one to play with.
We’d shiver in the backseat as we wound through up the hill. House windows faced us, candles aglow. White glowing reindeer and sleighs peeked between pines. At the house we’d coast into the driveway and hop out into the crystalline cold. A few steps more and we would be warm.
Walking into the that house through door next to the garage, into the warmth of a home fired with cooking and laughter, is one of my fondest memories. The family made pierogi and lasagna, two staples in the pot-luck rotation of those old coal and steel towns. There would be plates of cookies and plenty of ginger ale and Buckeyes, the best candy on earth. There were jars of pretzels and nuts here and there, a sprinkling of gumdrops or hard candy for the old folks. There was fried chicken someone made and wedding soup my mother made. As you walked into that warm place you heard the clack of billiard balls and the roar of the game in the other room. My dad cracked a beer. I got kissed by my aunts a few times and then hid, perhaps in a corner or maybe upstairs by their big tree in a darkened room lit only by a fire roaring on a tube television.
That was the height of interactivity, then: a live fire on TV (or, more likely, a looped fire.) You imagined what it must be like on the other end of that picture, how much technology you needed to make something so primal and imperative appear on a glass tube. It was as if we had traversed space into a strange craft outfitted with the comforts of home and none of the discomforts. Nestled on the couch, the TV crackling, you were on a space station and safe, a self-sufficient place where memories of cold were far distant.
They aired the first Yule log in 1966 from New York’s Gracie Mansion. By the time I was watching it it had been around for twenty years. It was a holdover from the early days of broadcast, from the days when the air was dead if there was no one to play in front of the cameras. In a few years the tradition would vanish but in 2001, in the wake of 9/11, it came back, a reminder of simpler times.
There was something about it that could change your outlook. A distant roaring fire was almost as good as one in the house and far less work. I’d curl up, read, and nod off, the voices of the adults below lulling me to sleep.
Now we carry things that burn brightly in our pockets. We don’t need these camera tricks to see fires everywhere. We don’t curl up to the magnet hum of a cathode ray tube and the tinny crackle and pop of facsimile logs. We’re beyond that.
Maybe we aren’t, though. Maybe there’s still a warm place, the umbilicus to get there a crystalline moment between the backseat of car and warm basement rec room. And maybe upstairs there’s a dozing kid watching the last drops of Christmas burn away into the country dark.
I think there still is. I hope there still is.
Merry Christmas.
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