#my favorite officer in the whole us army

[caddyxjellyby]

Hawkeye and Trapper and/or Hawkeye and Margaret for the favourite moments thing

Hawkeye and Trapper:

Saying good-bye to each other with tears in their eyes in Check-Up. Riding a horse together in Life with Father. Them drinking and singing with Margaret in Alcoholics Unanimous.

Hawkeye and Margaret:

Commiserating over their love lives and playing Scrabble in Stars and Stripes. “Nurse, friend, and all-around good egg” in Carry On, Hawkeye. Him trusting her to judge Potter’s surgical ability in Change of Command. I love it when they respect her nursing skills.

#tv: mash #you let me lean on you #my favorite officer in the whole us army #marley-manson

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow; chapter 6

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Being Commander of District 12 meant that Coriolanus couldn’t just whisk you away to the forest to face his fears. He had a whole army dependent on him. It meant that while you were held up in his apartment, he was held up in his office. 

It annoyed him to no end. To have you so close and yet still out of reach. 

Despite you living with him for a week, you’ve only shared one meal together. 

His overtime meant that you were asleep by the time he got home. 

You had left a clean pair of his pajamas on the end of the bed. He had a habit of just stripping down to his underwear to join you. 

You left dinner for him in the fridge and he sat at the dinner table eating it alone. 

On the odd occasion, there was time to spend together, the mood was often tense from Coriolanus stress. 

He tried not to take his frustration out on you but his answers were often short. 

After a long day filled with complaints and issues that could have been easily solved without him, Coriolanus decided that he would not return to his office after supervising drill training and instead remain with you. 

He was beyond tired from his day, but it was too early to suggest bed. You lay with him on the couch, propped up by a throw pillow against the arm of the couch while he lay in front of you. He threw your arm around his shoulder and held it tight under his chin. 

The TV played a music talent show that neither you nor Coriolanus could care about but the tv only picked up two channels; the news or the entertainment channel that the Hunger Games were shown on. Coriolanus couldn’t bear to hear any more politics for the day so you watched people dressed in irregular costumes perform ballads out of their range. 

His eyes droop as he fights the upcoming sleep. It was the first time since the fight with Edmund that he got you to sit down. The little he was here you spent avoiding him. For the first few days, he was angry too and avoidance stopped the fight he wanted to have with you. 

But a week had passed and his temper cooled. 

You were with him now. Playing housewife to the Commander. 

He felt better now that he was coming home to something, rather than just the cold. When he looked in the fridge there was food for him. His clothes were washed and prepared for him. His bed was warm at night. He made him feel less homesick.

The talk from the TV turned from the judges to Lucky the presenter. 

“Now ladies and gentlemen. We have a surprise for you tonight. We have a certain special guest gracing us. And we have given him the power to save one of your favorites from elimination! Mr Augustus Bloom won’t you please come out!” 

Coriolanus shot up from your hold to watch him. 

Augustus Bloom walked on screen wearing an expensive suit. His brown hair was slicked back and a small gold earring dangled from his ear. 

The crowd cheered for him. 

Coriolanus was stuck in District 12 dealing with half-wits and scum, while Augustus was charming the Capitol on live tv. 

He shakes hands with Lucky. 

“Mr. Bloom, a privilege to have you here tonight!” 

“A privilege to be here amongst you and away from my office.”

Lucky turns to the crowd and laughs. 

“Look at you. You good-looking man! You should be out on the town, breaking hearts!” 

Augustus laughs along with the crowd. 

“I am too busy preparing my business for when I am president of Panem. I’ll worry about women after that.” 

Coriolanus clenches his fist. 

“Oh,” Lucky turned serious to the crowd, “I think Coriolanus Snow might have something to say about that!” 

The crowd murmurs amongst themselves giving Coriolanus an air of confidence. 

A picture from his Academy days flashes up on the screen, you look at it with curiosity. He was once a young boy with soft curls, he now sat nearly unrecognizable. 

“He’s looking like a strong contender. Isn’t he handsome ladies!” He points out to the crowd, “And some gentleman.” 

Augustus had the wind knocked out of his sail. He fidgeted on stage and took a step back almost as if he was going to run away. Dr. Gaul's criticism ran through Coriolanus’ head, “a soft-bellied rich boy, not fit for the presidency.” 

Now the whole audience knew it too. 

“Snow isn’t here” he gritted through a smile. He wasn’t going down with a fight. 

“No. He’s in District 12, keeping us here in the Capitol safe. A round of applause for Commander Snow!” 

The crowd cheered causing Coriolanus to smile.

“So am I!” Augustus interrupted like a child. 

“Yes, right. I am sure one day you will!” Lucky claps him on the back and returns to the audience with an excited demeanor. 

“But of course, that’s a while yet! We are wishing our President Ravenstill all the good health in the world. Now let’s get on with the show!” 

Coriolanus switches the TV off and rests his arms on his knees. He couldn’t help but smile at Augustus' national failure. He made Coriolanus look so strong, so mysterious, and focused. He would send Lucky a fruit basket in thanks tomorrow. He would also send one to Augustus. 

“You had curls.” The young boyish figure had shocked you. 

“Yes,” he pats your knee affectionately, “When we are back in the Capitol and I am president of Panem, I’ll grow them back again.” 

==================

Coriolanus has the nightmare that night. He woke up with the tune of ‘Hanging Tree’ stuck in his head. The first thing he does is reach out to where you should have been lying only to find the space cold. Panic rushes through him. His feet thump against the floorboards as he runs from the room into the hall. Your sleeping body can be seen on the couch and he instantly relaxes. 

His body tells him he should be angry; fists clenched, shoulders up and tense, his face hot. But he couldn’t manage it. His mind was too hazy to comprehend anything but his own panic. 

Instead, he sits down on the floor beside you and tries to control his breathing. The tune hums in the back of his mind and he tries to force it out. 

“You had the nightmare again?” Your voice halts the tune. He looks over his shoulder at you with wide eyes. You finally saw the resemblance between the schoolboy with the curls. 

He gets up and pushes himself on the couch next to you. You feel his hands slide up your back, trying to hold you close but you wiggle free from his grasp. 

You would not comfort the man who kidnapped you. 

He tried to bring you back down to his chest as you crawl over him but his tired state left room for error. 

You tumble down to the floor as you escape. 

He sighs disappointed, bringing his hands up to his face. 

“Was there something wrong with the bed?” he asks. 

“I prefer the couch.” You sit on the ground next to him. 

“You prefer the bed built by Edmund.” He spat his name like it was poison. 

You look up at him warily, “I never told you that Edmund built my bed.” 

Coriolanus is silent for a minute, he sucks his teeth and sits up. 

“You didn’t have to. The wood from your door and bed match.’’

He feels settled as you sit by his feet. The panic subsides, but his anger bubbles up from it. 

“Can you make me a cup of tea?” he asks. 

With him on your bed, you couldn’t go back to sleep anyway so you rose and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. 

He watches you while sitting on the couch. He liked how you moved so comfortably in the space. You were treating it like your home. No hesitation about where things were, you used things liberally.

“What do you dream?” You ask him. 

“When I wake up it’s gone,” he lies. 

You know he carries it around with him.

“Whatever it is, it scares you.” 

The kettle whistles and you pour it over the tea bag. 

He worried that he now looks weak in front of you. The man who was supposed to be protecting you was scared of a dream like a child. He could continue with his lie but you already knew. 

Instead he tries a half-truth. 

“I dream that I am killed like my father was.” 

This peaked your interest causing him to sit up straighter under your attention. 

“How did he die?”. 

He takes the cup from you but you don’t scurry away like you usually do. You stand in front of him eager to listen to him. The attention moved his mouth, 

“Here. In District 12. A trap out in the forest during the war. He was a governor”. 

“Is that why you wanted to come back?” 

“I didn’t want to come back” he admits. He reaches up with his spare hand to lightly touch yours, “But I am glad I did.” 

“What did you do?” you feel his thumb brush over the back of your hand, “I mean, to get you sent here?” 

He takes a sip of his tea before answering, “I had an enemy in the Capitol. He disliked my father and took it out on my family”. 

“He sent you back as Commander?” 

“No. He died. Gaul sent me back for my presidential run. It looks better to be serving my country.”

You tear your hand from him, “And when they find out you brought me back to the Capitol. How will that look?” 

He places the cup on the floor and stands up to your height.

“I’ll keep you safe, okay?” he presses his forehead against yours, “In the district and in the Capitol”. 

“Safe from danger you put me in.”

Coriolanus shakes his head as you pull away from him. “You’re safe. You’ve always been safe.” 

He tried to pull you close again but you stretched out your arms to keep him at distance.  

“I wanna go home, Coriolanus.”

“Home to Edmund, perhaps?” he bites. His calm and soft features harden. 

A shiver shoots up your spine at the mention of Edmund. 

“Home to my family. The same as you.” 

He sighs, “You won’t be alone in the Capitol as you are here. You just have to put up with it just a little bit longer. We’ll be back home soon”

The Capitol was not your home nor would it ever be. 

But you knew anymore talk of home would lead to more talk of Edmund. 

“Come on. Let’s go back to bed.” You rip your elbow from his grasp as he walks past you. 

“I’m fine on the couch.” 

He rubs a hand over his mouth before bending down and picking up his tea cup. He splashes the remains on the couch and hands you the empty cup. 

“Enjoy it then.” 

—————-

The next day he comes home around lunch time. It catches you by surprise. 

“Come on,” he says, nodding his head backwards. 

You follow him without a word to the van below where officials stood around. Upon seeing him they take their place. You see Smiley by the passenger side door and he calls out for his Commander. 

Coriolanus tell Smiley to take the seat and climbs in the tray of the truck. 

He pulls you up into the van amongst the Peacekeepers. He sits on the end of the bench with you between his legs on the floor. Like a seatbelt he keeps you in place by taking a hold on your upper arms and pulling them back up on his knees. 

You can feel the glances of his officers but they look away as soon as you try to meet their eyes. 

Halfway they try to break the tension with idle chatter. 

“Will the recruits be as bad as last year?” 

“That’s couldn’t be possible.” 

The talk soon turns to anecdotes about their youthful days as Peacekeeper grunts. 

None of them try to include Coriolanus in their jests. They all willfully ignored the couple on the end. 

You don’t try to talk to him either. 

As you pass through the district the people look at the Peacekeeper van causing you to turn your head in embarrassment. You could still feel the harsh judgements from your community as you sat between the Commander's legs. How would you ever rebuild your reputation? 

The van stops in front of the tunnel to the train station. The people part in the crowd to let the van through. 

Coriolanus releases you to unhook the bolts from the backn of the truck. None of the other Peacekeepers move until he does. He jumps down from the bed of the truck and turns back around to help you down. They all wait until you are down and out of the way before they follow. 

It’s busy, too busy for a normal docking of fresh recruits. All of the road and tunnel leading to the train station were overrun by bodies. 

 District people flood the space, all chatting loudly in a panic. They part as the line of Peacekeepers march through. 

Normally on orientation day, the newcomers to District 12 were given a wide berth. People had better things to do then get a glimpse of the faces that would soon be terrorizing them. 

You wondered what peaked their excitement today. What had Coriolanus done that both you and the district people had to see?

Coriolanus drags you down the dark tunnel into the light of the train station. The talk quitened but didn’t stop altogether. 

You screamed upon seeing the commotion. 

Edmund. 

He was badly beaten and tied to a sturdy metal pole that kept the roof up. A bulls-eye was spray painted an inch above his head.

Blood soaked his face to the point you almost didn���t recognize him. 

Large black bruises covered his exposed skin.

You turn to Coriolanus who was already looking at you and beg him to release Edmund. 

“Please, Coriolanus. Let him go.”

“He threw the first punch.”

You knew it had less to do with causing Coriolanus physical harm than it did with damaging his ego and need for control. Your neighbors were shown that the Commander bleeds like any other man. 

“He learnt his lesson.” you promise. 

“Have you learnt yours?”

Only ten young boys disembark from the train.  They were all thin with a badly-shaved buzzcut and carrying a Capitol issued duffle bag. 

You wanted to run over to Edmund. Protect him somehow. But you couldn’t, it was your protection that got him here in the first place. 

“Gentlemen, welcome to District 12.” 

Coriolanus stood by your side while another officer went in front of the line of boys. 

“This is Edmund Flare,” he gestures to Edmund at the post, “A known rebel sympathizer, and a troubled citizen of District 12.”

Another Peacekeeper runs over and passes the man a gun. You grab Coriolanus' arm in protest. 

“More likely than not, you will have to shoot Edmund one day in service of your country. We figured today we would give you the opportunity to save yourself the trouble in the future.”   

The first young boy is given the gun. 

“You get one shot before you have to wait for that day to naturally come.’’

Edmund holds his head up high to show he is not afraid. But you were. You were terrified. A strong urge to go over and rip the gun out of the young boys hands presented itself but you knew you would be pulled back before you could even stand close enough to touch him, 

The boy checks the gun for the trigger, earning a laugh from everyone but you and Coriolanus. 

Eventually he finds it, and he takes aim. 

The shot misses by a mile. 

“Coriolanus please.” He remains emotionless, watching the scene before him. He stood as if it was a street performance, hands clasped behind his back and perfect posture to get a good view.

“Wait! Wait!” you call out but the men continue. Another boy steps up and takes the gun. 

He takes less time to examine the gun before firing a shot. Edmund flinches as it wizzes past his shoulder. 

‘‘Coriolanus! Stop this. Just please stop, untie hi-”

The next shot is fired causing you to spin around to ensure that Edmund was still standing. He was tall and stupidly proud. 

“I’ll never forgive you if one of them hurt him!” you threaten but it doesn’t even earn you a glance. 

“Do you love him?”

“No” you answered firmly and fast, “No, Coriolanus. Please stop.” 

Another shot is taken. 

“Because if you loved him now would be the time to tell me, because I would hate to break apart lovers.”

The third shot lands next to Edmunds boot. You felt physically sick watching the scene. Your legs shook and would soon give way. 

The men start to whoop and cheer the young recruits on. It gives the next young boy confidence to take a step closer to take his shot but it misses all the same.  

You can’t tear your eyes off Edmund as the next recruit takes aim. They look each other in the eyes. Never spoken a word and already enemies. 

The shot is taken but wizzes past Edmunds head.

You shake your head no. You knew telling him that you loved Edmund would sign his death certificate. 

“He’s my brother's friend, Coriolanus. We grew up together.”

The next shot hit the pole but not the target, causing you to yelp. 

Loud cheering snapped you out of your daze. Begging would get you nowhere. 

Instead you take his shoulders into your arms and turn him towards you.

“He looked after me before you. I would have been dead long before you got to me if it wasn’t for him”. 

Coriolanus throws his eyes back to Edmund which was not the desired effect. 

You change positions, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his attention back down to you.

“I didn’t tell him that you’d taken his role. The other night he was just trying to protect me as you would’ve.” 

He finally looks down at you.

“Please, don’t kill him, Coriolanus. I could never forgive myself.” Your voice begins to shake. You were so nervous for Edmunds safety. Your knees buckled and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. 

He takes the side of your face into his hands. 

“Do you love him?” 

You shake your head feverishly, “No, Coriolanus.” 

“Do you love him?” You feel his fingers tighten on your face. 

“Yes.” you admit. 

“Do you love me?”

Through gritted teeth a ‘yes’ resounds. 

“More than him?” 

A shot whizzed into the crowd as the new recruit lost control of the gun and Coriolanus pulled his body over yours. 

The officers scold the boy. Taking the waving  gun away. The shot landed into the train station wall but it was a close call for those standing in front of it.

He removes your arms from him and you watch him walk over to the officer holding the gun. 

He takes it and aims at Edmund who stood straight and tall. 

You shrink as the gun fires. Unable to look, you cover your face with your hands. 

The cheering made no impact on your confidence. You couldn’t hear Edmund from their excitement. So you reluctantly open your eyes to see him still standing. 

The bullet had made it straight to the middle of the painted target. 

Coriolanus stood taking aim still, as if he was still considering firing another shot. 

Edmund stared back, almost daring him. 

“Commander.” you call. You don’t call him by his name, not in front of people. 

Coriolanus lowers the gun but keeps his eyes on Edmund as he speaks, 

“Load them up and head back to the compound.” he passes the gun to the closest officer and turns back to where you stood. 

“Cut him loose.” he calls back. 

When he tosses his arm around you and pulls you back to the truck, you turn back to see Edmund surrounded by Peacekeepers. 

People mummer as you walk past but your ears buzzed too loudly to hear a word. 

You felt so weak as you walked. You thought you were going to collapse before you could make it to the van. But with Coriolanus’s strong hold on you, you made it back. 

He climbs in first and reaches down to pull you up. He sits you on his knee instead of on the ground and you watch as the peacekeepers, old and new, return to the truck. 

You don’t even have it in you to feel embarrassed as eyes locked into you. 

No one said anything to Coriolanus on the way back. 

As soon as the truck opens back in the compound, you are the first to jump out. You hear Coriolanus footsteps as he followed you back to the apartment.

You immediately take a seat at the kitchen table and Coriolanus gets you a cup of water. You stare at it in front of you. 

“Edmund died today, as far as you are concerned.” 

Closing your eyes to the image of him, you nod your head. 

He could hear Coriolanus moving around the apartment but you couldn’t care what he was doing. 

When he slams something down in front of you, you open your eyes to see a piece of paper and a pen. 

“I want you to write to your brother and tell him about us.” 

You couldn’t. Your brother was hot headed, and powerless. He would cause only problems for himself trying to get back. 

“What would be the point? He is over in District 8.”

“My family are in the Capitol, yet they know about you.”

Shock strikes you knowing that his family knew of Coriolanus’s actions. 

“Write to him,” he pushes, “tell him that we are together. How you feel.” 

You pen a half-hearted letter about how you met a man. Coriolanus, you called him, Not Commander Snow. You tell him how you miss him, and that your mother is okay. That Coriolanus is ensuring that your basic needs are met. Don’t worry, you tell him, you’re perfectly safe.

Coriolanus reads it after you are done before folding it and placing it in his pocket. 

He slides another piece of paper over in front of you. 

“Now write to Tigris and my grandmother. Tigris suggested it would make you feel better, already knowing someone in the Capitol.”

You pick up the pen and write again, but your mind remains on the image of Edmund being used as target practice. You make yourself a promise that you would never meet his cousin or his grandmother. Their letters are as close as they will get before you could escape.

—------

Coriolanus amped up his work schedule even more. Eager to break free from his responsibilities and solve the mystery of Lucy Gray. 

You were left alone at night which was preferable to his company but you felt yourself going crazy with only your own company. 

You tried to keep a routine to fill the day. It was mostly taken up by cleaning tasks. 

After dinner you would wash and dry the dishes, wipe the countertops and table and sweep and mop the floor. Then you would retire to the living room with your sewing or polishing work until it was time for bed. 

There is a quiet tapping on the window disturbing you from securing the buttons on Coriolanus’s shirt. 

No fear ran through you wondering who it could be. They couldn’t get in to harm you anyway. So you peer out from the window. 

“Edmund” you gasp. 

His left eye was blackened, a large bruise formed around the bloodshot vessels. A purple bruise marked his cheek and there was a cut on his right eyebrow. 

“How did you get in?”

He hold a pair of wire cutters up to the window. 

“Are you okay? God I was so worried about you.”

“Ah,” Edmund smiles and replaces the wire cutters with a small knife from his pocket, “Takes more than that.” 

“What are you doing?” you hiss. If Coriolanus found him, there was no way Edmund would escape death a second time. 

“Getting you out of here.” 

“You can’t be here. He’ll be home soon.”

“I know. I’ve been here every night since i’ve been well enough.  I told you, you’re not alone.”

“The Peacekeepers-’’

“There’s a fifteen minute window where this section is blind.” The lock wiggles but resists being opened under pressure, “And he just entered the infantry to wish our poor peacekeepers a speedy recovery. We have time.” 

The door was determined to chew most of it up, however. 

“Edmund, what did he do to you?” his face was swollen from the bruising, and you could see large black and purple spots peeking out from under his shirt. 

“The day after he took you, he sent Peacekeepers to my home. They took me back to the compound and showed me some ‘hospitality’”. 

“Edmund,I am so sorry,” you begin to cry, “I never should have taken the oat bars to the jail.” 

You remembered the day at the market that set off the chain of events. 

You remember seeing the man, he stood out amongst the crowd. Dirty, torn clothes. An arm missing, no doubt from the district's mining work. There wasn’t much work for men outside of it. 

A sense of pity overwhelmed you, so when he swiped a loaf of bread off the table, you looked the other way. Unfortunately a watchful Peacekeeper did not. 

The man's plea echoed through your mind as he was taken away; “Please, I am so hungry.” 

It led you to making the oat bars not only for him, but for all the others punished for their hunger. 

You remembered a rumor that there was a hole at the west end of the jail for the Peacekeepers to sneak out from, and women of the night to sneak in. You were surprised to find out it was actually true. 

“This is not your fault, okay. I am going to get you outta here, and we’ll go to the mountains okay? Where it’s safe. Like planned.”

You nod your head. 

The door jingles as Edmund tries to force it open with his knife. It doesn’t bulge.

“Edmund, my mother, is she okay?”

“She’s okay. She’s already up the mountains.”

“How? She could barely walk?”

“I carried her.” 

The guilt came crashing down on you. Edmund had his own family to look after. They wouldn’t survive without him. 

“Edmund. Stop. I can get the key,” you weren’t sure if you actually could, “You need to go. Just tell me where you cut the hole.” 

He stops trying to wedge the door with the knife so you could hear him clearly. 

“There’s three big bins out by the back,” he points to the direction, “I cut a hole behind the middle one. It’ll take you to the south forest. I’ll wait there.” 

“No,” you interject, “No. Wait for me in the mountains.” 

He rolls his eyes and picks up his work of jamming his knife in the door. 

“You’ll never make it up the mountain by yourself.” 

“At home then! Just stay away from here.” 

The plea was for both you and him. 

“You can get the key and get out?” He asks in a serious tone, looking at you once more. 

“Yes.” you confirm. 

He sighs as he pockets his knife, “When?” 

The Commander kept his keys by the night stand. You think you could remember which one opened the door. 

“Soon.” 

“A week. I’ll give you a week before I come back with something stronger.” 

You nod your head in agreement.

“Thank you, Edmund.” 

“You’re my girl.” he remarks as it was an obvious motivation for his work. 

You shiver at his words. 

————

You don’t sleep well at night so you have taken to having naps while Coriolanus is at work. He is home more often now. He had got ahead of a considerable amount of work which meant nights were spent together. 

Most nights he would take you walking around the compound for fresh air after dinner. You tried to memorize the key he used to unlock the door but there were so many that all looked the same. You wondered how he even knew.

He is anxious now that he found out you were sleeping in the living room and has taken to chaining you together as you slept. He cuffed one of his wrists and one of yours, making sleep impossible as he basically slept on top of you now. 

It was only three days after Edmunds promise, that you woke from your nap with the sight of Coriolanus packing your clothes into a bag. 

“What are you doing?” you ask. 

Was he moving you to your own apartment? 

He drops the bag and comes over to sit next to you on the bed. 

“Hey,” he greets “You need to get up now. We are going to go away for the weekend.”

You sit up away from him, “Where are we going?”

Vacations were not a thing in District 12. 

“The Capitol?” you guessed. 

“No, not the Capitol.” 

You sigh in relief. Still he had not answered your question. 

“Where then?” 

He gets up from the bed and zips the bag up. 

“Do you not trust me?”

You get up from the bed to see he had laid a dress on the end of the bed for you. 

‘‘I just want to know where we are going.” 

“You took me to a special place, and now I want to take you somewhere, okay?”

Throwing the duffle bag filled with spare clothes for you and him, over his shoulder he exits the room. 

You change and his way out to the living room. There would be no point in fighting. You were going to find out where he was taking you at some point. 

The living room was empty, but the door swung wide. 

With the door being left open for you, you took the stairs down to where Coriolanus was loading the back of a patrolling truck. 

You saw a small cooler of food, one of the old pans, bedding and pillows, a small bag of toiletries and the clothes bag. He had packed in a hurry. The bags were thrown in without care. They were far apart from each other and more items than not were upside down.

“We’re not coming back?” you ask. 

“We’ll stay a night or two.” Or however long it takes to find Lucy Gray’s body.

He holds open the door and you follow his silent command to get in. You spot the rifle tucked between the seat and the console. It makes you rethink your decision of complacency. 

“My special place didn’t need a gun.”

He takes your arm and gently pushes you forward into the car, but you tug back against him. 

“It’s nothing. Just a precaution.” 

He gently pushes you again to move. 

“Get in.” he barks. 

“No.”

He takes a harsh grip this time on your arm and leads you back to the cage where Peacekeepers kept people who disturbed the peace.

He pushed you into the small space amongst the bags. 

It was big enough that you could sit with your back against the wall but it would only leave an inch of space between your head and the roof. The back was caged in so the rebels couldn’t reach the officers in front, and the length was long enough to fit three or four rebels at one time. Albeit a tad uncomfortably. 

You bang on the metal divide as he slams the door shut and begins to drive. 

“Coriolanus, you don’t have to do this. I could just go home.” 

He drives through the middle of the district to the out of bounds forest, where Peacekeepers were waiting armed and ready by the electric fence line. They buzz the parting gate open and seal it shut again once the car passes. 

Past the gate, it was just you and him. What would he want to take you to a secluded forest for. A million reasons run through your mind and they all end with you dead. 

“How are you doing back there?” he calls from the front. The car as it powers through the harsh conditions almost drowns him out. 

“Where are you taking me?” you demand to know, “What’s out past the boundary line that you set up?”

Was he hiding something out there? Was that the reason he set up the fence? Not to keep people contained but to hide something. 

“There’s a cabin I know of. There’s a lake too. I think you’ll like it.”

You watch from the front window, looking out for landmarks that could lead you back home. The dark clouds that roll fourth threaten to destroy anything you can remember. 

The path to the cabin is ingrained in his mind since he walked back a different man. He weaved through the gaps in the forest without looking at his father’s compass. 

“Did Lucy Gray like it?” 

He ignores your comment and you don’t speak again. 

—---

When you reach the cabin it is old and run down. Vines cover the walls of the house, patching up the rotten wood. 

Coriolanus seemed nervous to be there. His hand flexes as it reaches for you.

The door had been sealed shut with moisture and it took three hard shoulder charges from Coriolanus to get it open. He invites you in with a hand on your shoulder, shutting the door behind you before retaking your hand in his.

You could smell the dust as you stood in the small living room. The cabin was small and colorless. Mostly everything was made from wood. From the small kitchen table and chairs to the bed you could see in the adjacent room. The only thing that was metal was an old fire stove, and a few decorative pieces.  

Leaves had blown in from holes in the roof scattering the floor. The place looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. You would have thought the place was abandoned since its creation if there weren’t bags upon the floor. Despite its appearance, someone had been here before you and Coriolanus. 

He lets go of you to rush over to the bags. He unzips one and pulls out a colorful dress. The way he lets out a laughy breath sends shivers down your spine. 

“Lucy Gray’s?” you ask but you already know the answer. He had taken her here to kill her, maybe under the guise of running away together, and now he has taken you here to kill you. 

Coriolanus shrugs as if he doesn’t know and shoves the dress back in the bag. 

“Whoever it belongs to is long gone.” 

He continues to look through the bags for anything missing while you glance at the door. 

You think about making a run for it. Surely you would have a better chance in the forest then against him. You feel your feet slowly turning in the direction of the door when his speaking interrupts you. 

“I’ll take this junk outside.” he gathers the bags, slinging one over his shoulder and carrying the other two in his hands. 

You don’t speak as he comes over to you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, noticing your uptight demeanor. 

“Fine. You?” Was he being driven to a quiet rage with thoughts of Lucy Gray?

“Perfect.”

He places a quick kiss to your lips before carrying the bags outside. 

You look at the gun on the floor. If you ran now while he was busy outside it would give you a head start. Surely he would need to come back to get the gun before chasing you. He couldn’t do it with his bare hands. 

You could feel his hands around your throat and knew he could. 

You bolt through the door and down the old steps but run into him as he comes back up. 

He had only taken to throwing the old bags by the side of the house, planning to sink them alongside of the guns in the lake at a later point. 

“Whoa” he stops you with his hands, “Where are you going?”

“The bags. To get the bags out of the car.” 

He looks out to the forest as if he had heard something. 

“Get back inside. I’ll get them.” 

You watch him from the window bring the items in. He was cautious and kept glancing at the forest. 

You did not want to end up a ghost among the forest with Lucy Gray. You wanted to live. To go up to the mountains with Edmund and be shielded in his arms. 

As Coriolanus finished his second trip with the bags, he used an old chair still there and pinned it under the door handle to prevent it from opening. 

You promised yourself that you would make it to the mountains. Coriolanus would not kill you and bury your body next to Lucy Gray. 

You felt as if you were in the Hunger Games.

You were going to be the victor.

Coriolanus looked unbothered by these thoughts as he tried to light a fire in the old stove. 

He gets it going and as he puts his matches back in, he notices you still in a tense form. 

“It’s only for tonight. We’ll go home tomorrow afternoon.”

“Will we?” you spat. “Why are we here anyway?” 

‘To kill me. Say it, you coward’, you thought. 

“It’s quiet,’’ he suggests, “Some place quiet where we can be alone.”

“Is this where you took Lucy Gray?”

He slams a pan down on top of the hot surface. 

“I didn’t know Lucy Gray. I’ve told you.”  He opens a pack of sausages and throws them down without care before tossing the leftover garlic potatoes you cooked the night before in as well. 

“Did you bury her out here?” you push. 

He ignores you. Pushing around a sausage with the knife he used to cut open the packet. 

“Are you going to bury me out here?”

“I have never hurt you.”

“You starved me, hit me, nearly killed my mother. You call that not hurting me?” 

You felt your blood boiling. It was one thing to make your life a living hell, it was another to deny he did it. 

He drops the knife and turns to face you. 

“Have you starved under me? Has your mother?” he hits his chest with his next words, “You eat because of me. You sleep in a bed that I paid for. I provide for you. Me.” 

He stalks towards you causing you to stumble back. You hit a wall but feel a rusted piece of metal under your fingertips. You grab it from the desk but keep it low from his sight. 

“Everything has happened to you because you strayed, and you want me to apologize for it?”

“I want you to admit to what you did.” What you are about to do, so I don’t feel guilty. 

He grabs hold of the bar and pulls it from you. 

“I did not kill Lucy Gray,” he said earnestly. But he wished he had. 

He throws the rusted object across the room and it lands with a heavy clang. 

“And I am not going to kill you. You don’t think you’ve done enough already to get yourself hanged? I protected you from that. Not Edmund.”

Your breath hitches as you hear his name. 

The smell of burning and sounds of angry popping infiltrates the room. Coriolanus leaves you to deal with it. The sausages were charred on one side but raw on the other. After a quick flip, Coriolanus returned his attention to you. 

“Sit on the ground, by my boots.’’

You eye your weapon on the other side of the room but he was stronger, faster, you would never get it and wield it in time. Night time would be the best chance of escape. The cabin had no lock on it, and you were sure you could make it to the mountains from here. But first you had to get Coriolanus off his guard. He still carried his cuffs with him. Escape would be impossible if you were locked in place. 

So you sit on the ground and wrap yourself around his leg as he cooks. 

He liked the feeling of you anchoring him. It made him feel secure. 

He cooks in silence, tossing the items in the pan so they wouldn’t burn. Cutting a sausage in half, he could see it was done, but he had forgotten plates. 

Instead he takes the pan off the stove and carefully sits down across from you on the floor. The pan sizzles as it is placed between you on the floor. It didn’t matter if it burnt the wooden floor. The cabin was so run down, it hardly made a difference. Coriolanus pokes a potato with his knife and brings it up to you. 

He wouldn’t give you the knife after the pipe incident. You bite the hot potato off and Coriolanus had his turn. 

You could tell the rocky temper was still floating around in him. He had calmed but his face still spoke of his annoyance. His necklace overlaid his shirt, your ring called out to you. 

“Give me your dog tag.”

“What?” he responds. 

“If you’re not going to kill me, then let me wear your necklace. I’ll give it back at the compound, but if you do kill me, you’ll be forced to wear your guilt around your neck.”

You wanted your ring back before you left him forever. 

“I am not going to kill you.” he sighs, taking a bite of sausage. 

“Then give me the necklace.”

You hold your hand out for it, which Coriolanus eyes. 

Dropping the knife into the pan, he maneuvers the tag of his neck, bypassing your hand and dropping it over your head. 

You felt the ring scratch you as it landed. 

“Happy now? Will you stop acting crazy?”

You hold the pendants in your hand and nod in agreement

. 

The rest of the night was uneventful. He sets up lamps as it darkens and teaches you a card game. You lost every round, even the ones he tried to let you win. It was a strategy game and you didn’t have the head for it.

The game only lasted an hour before you were helping Coriolanus set up the bed. He had brought along air beds from the Capitol that inflated and deflated by a push of a button. He pushes them together and you made a bed out of the queen sized bedwear from the apartment. 

As he went to sleep with you wrapped safely in his arm, he thought about how he was going to get you to stay inside while he went searching the woods.

He couldn’t tell you what he was looking for or who he was looking for. Nor could he take you with him under the guise of a leisurely walk. If Lucy Gray was out there he didn’t want you anywhere near her. He knew there were four more other cabins in these woods. Just because she hadn’t come back for her mother’s dress, didn’t mean she wasn’t out there. If anything, if she was alive it would be the last place she went back to. She was smart, she would have known that Coriolanus would one day come back to find the mystery of Lucy Gray. She was probably trying to throw him off her scent. 

You wiggle, pulling the blanket higher over you and it brings his attention closer to home.

Maybe he could lock you in the back of the car while he searched. 

He decided he was going to do something nice for you after this. For putting you through it all. Get your measurements and commission Tigris for a new dress, perhaps. Or buy you a necklace of your own. 

 Maybe both. He had the money for it for the first time in his life. And he did owe you an apology and a thank you for being here with him tonight. 

He could see how scared you were thinking that your protector was turning against you. After yesterday, he perhaps should have waited a day or two before taking you away. He at least  should have been more gentle in the approach, so you didn’t think he would harm you for his anger towards Edmund. 

Coriolanus understood him in a way that saved him from being shot. He was just looking out for you, the same way Coriolanus would have. He and Edmund both wanted to take care of you but your heart only had place for one. And that spot rightfully, and wholly belonged to Coriolanus Snow. Edmund did his job of keeping you alive for Coriolanus and he was rewarded when the bullet went behind him and not into his skull. But now it was Coriolanus’s turn and both Edmund and you needed to learn that. 

Coriolanus mind slowed as you stilled beneath him. 

You will yourself to be still. You count your breaths out to mime sleeping. Coriolanus’s hold on your shoulder falls as he sleeps but you don’t make a move just yet. Half-scared that he would wake when you got up. 

It wasn’t until it started to pour rain that you decided to stop stalling and make a move. 

Carefully you rose, and the chains of his arms fell off you. The rain pelting down covered the sound of the air mattress as you moved off it. 

The rain, as it turns out, was a blessing and not a punishment. 

You had left your boots and dress next to you for easy access. Stripping yourself of your nightdress, you quickly change and tie up your boots. 

Coriolanus had taken to sleeping in his underpants, now that you weren’t in a position to indirectly persuade him to dress in his nightwear. He liked the feeling of skin to skin with you but you beg him to keep his t-shirt on. You hated the feeling of his skin pressed against yours. He obliged. 

Your boots squeak against the old floor boards as you walk across it to the door. Causing you to wince at every step, but you do manage to reach the door without waking him.

You try to gently tug the chair from under the door but it was jammed. Turning back to see him still sleeping, you tug a bit harder, but only the door knob jiggles. You cringe as he moves slightly on his back. You would have a harder time escaping the compound than here. There were no armed guards or sniffing dogs. Just you and him, and you had a head start. You had to pluck up the courage now. 

The chair scraps against the floor but you manage to get it free. 

There is a second where nothing moves or makes sound. You almost think you got away scot-free.

“What are you doing?” You hear his voice and turn to see him sitting up dazed. 

Your answer is the throwing open of the door and running out. You hear him jump up as you do. 

He yanks on his Commander’s pants and boots, leaving the laces untied. 

It was too late by the time he got out you were nowhere to be seen. 

He felt his heart jump from his chest. This couldn’t be happening.  It was just a bad dream that he would wake from. But the icy water pouring down on him told him that it was true. You had betrayed him like Lucy Gray. 

Lucy Gray. What if she was out in the woods where you ran? She was the victor of the hunger games, you were a lost lamb. You wouldn’t stand a chance against her. She would tear you to shreds if she thought she could get back at Coriolanus. 

He thinks about returning to the cabin and retrieving his gun but you were already too far out of reach. 

He yells out for you. 

The rain poured down soaking you to the bone, but covered your tracks as you ran. 

“Y/N!” he screams. You battle the rain as you ran through the forest. Pushing yourself to go faster. 

“Hey, it’s dangerous out here. Lets go back to the cabin. Talk about this.” 

His wild eyes scan the area for any sign of movement. The rain hindered his vision but he could hear the faint sound of branches snapping under your foot. 

“Do you honestly think you can run from me? That I won’t find you?” 

You don’t answer and he screams out some more

“Y/N! Come out now! This isn’t funny!” 

You stumble as your dress caught on a tree, it grazes your arm as you pull, leaving a nasty cut. 

He screams loudly out of frustration. The rain seemed to slow down to a trickle as he did, as if it was also scared.  

“You stupid, little girl” you can hear him as he walks, he was catching up. You couldn’t outrun him so you slowed your pace, focusing your efforts on hiding. 

“When I catch you…” he doesn’t finish his sentence. 

You press yourself against the tree. Your arm stung from the cut and your lungs burned from your efforts. 

“Hey, who do you think will reach your mother first?” he taunts. 

 You knew it wouldn’t be him. She was safe in the mountains and soon you would be too. 

“Y/N. That’s enough.” 

You slink to the next tree and focus on quieting your breathing. His footsteps got louder as he gained ground. 

“Y/N, I said that’s enough!”  He picks up a large tree branch and walks forward with it. 

“You’re going to get lost in the forest. There’s worse things than me out there.” 

He imagined you wandering, lost amongst the trees. Lucy Gray, savage and wild, following you. You wouldn’t see her as a threat when she introduced herself. You were too sweet. You would willingly follow her back to wherever she was hiding and by the time you sense the danger of her, it would be too late. 

He needed to find you. To make sure you were alright. That Lucy Gray hadn’t got her hands on the only pure thing in his life. 

“Look it’s not too late. We can just forget this happened. Go back to the compound.” he offers but you knew it wasn’t true. 

You hold your brother's ring in your hand and make an attempt to move forward. 

You made it to the next tree but hear Coriolanus stop walking. 

With the rain slowing, it was harder not to make a noise. 

A loud banging spooked you as he threw the wood against the tree you were hiding behind. You knew you should have stayed still, he was only testing, but your feet took off before your mind could command them not too. 

He felt better seeing you run off. You ran uninjured and with no one following you. 

He takes off after you, determined not to lose sight again.

Both of you run through the forest and rain. You felt as though he might eat you alive if he caught you, but he was faster. All too soon, you feel hands on your waist, pulling you down. You scream as you sink into the mud, trashing under his weight.

He sits on your thighs and keeps your hands pinned against the dirt floor. 

“What were you thinking?” He spat. You had never seen him look so upset. His face scrunched, eyebrows furrowed, his eyes looked down at you in a crazy panic. 

“How could you be so stupid?” 

You toss under him, screaming at him to release you. 

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?” 

You kick your feet in an attempt to buck him off, but he was too heavy. 

“Shut up,” he grabs your jaw and stills it in his direction, “You stupid, stubborn, fool of a girl. What was your plan? Huh? Wander around the forest and hope you make it back to District 12?”

You don’t answer and he tightens his hold. 

“It was foolish. What if something got you in the forest?’’

What if Lucy Gray got you in the forest. 

“Do you have any idea what that would have done to me?” 

“I don’t care,” you cry. 

“You don’t care?” he says, astonished.

He sits back off you and pulls you up by your arms. 

“When you were hungry, I cared.” he pulled you along back to the cabin. 

“When you didn’t have money for rent, I cared.” You wriggle your arm, but his hold was too tight. 

“Clothes for the winter, medicine for your mother. I cared. And what do I get for it?”

You latch yourself onto a tree. It grounds you as he tries to tug you off it. 

“All I ever wanted from you was for you to care.” 

He yanks you off the tree and shoves you forward. 

“You would think after everything, I would be entitled to it.” 

“Coriolanus, please let go of me.” you buck against him. 

He tightens his hold, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground. 

He throws you across the floor as you reenter the cabin, going to get his cuffs from his bag. You scramble away from him as he gets closer but he stands over you, trapping your wrist in the cuff and hooking it around the leg of the oven and then trapping your wrists. 

He stood back over you.

“Look at you,” he spat, “You wouldn’t have lasted the night out there.” 

The cut on your arm bleed down, your hair was tangled with twigs and mud. You looked pitiful. 

“Let me go, Coriolanus. I won’t tell anyone.”

He lowers himself down to the ground, placing his knees either side of you. He places the weight of him on your legs. You hated the feeling, as now you were fully immobilized.

He speaks slowly and dangerously with your face in his hands. 

“If you ever try to leave me again, there will be nothing you could do that would save Edmund”.

Do you understand?” 

You nod, but it seemed to anger him. 

“I asked if you understood,” he yells. 

“Yes. Yes. I understand.” 

“How stupid could you be? So worried about me killing you, you decide to do it yourself.” 

“I wasn’t thinking,” you just wanted him to get off you. His weight was crushing. 

“I doubt you’ve ever thought something useful in your life. Use to everybody else doing it for you.” 

His hands tangle in your hair forcing you to keep still. 

“I’ll do your thinking for you from now on. Your next independent thought, I’ll smash from your skull, understand?” 

“Yes.” you cry. The night proved too much for you. The hope of getting away now crushed under his foot. 

Your chest heaves with sobs. The panic of being a sitting duck waiting to be killed courses through you, it was a choking sensation. 

He takes his wet form off of you and towards the door. 

The night was getting to him too. He felt as if history was repeating itself. Back in the forest with little control.  

He goes to the side of the house where the bags layed and stuffed them with as many heavy rocks as he could find. 

They were heavy as he picked them back up and takes the old boat out to the middle of the lake. The bags sink easily with the rocks, and join the guns at the bottom. His past was officially buried. He now only had the future to look forward to. A future with him as President of Panem, and you by his side. 

He rows the boat back to shore. The rain soaked him again and his shirt clung uncomfortably on his skin. It sticks the cold to his chest and his mind floats back to you inside. You were sure to catch a cold if he didn’t move fast. 

Entering the house, he could see he was correct from the way your body shivered. 

Wiping off the water from his face with his soaked shirt, he goes to his bag and pulls out a fresh shirt for himself. He could still hear you crying as he changed into dry shirt and underpants. 

He takes one of his long sleeve off-duty button ups and a towel he wanted to be used from swimming in the lake and brings them over to you. 

He had brought you a spare change of clothes but after tonight he felt like he needed the extra security and you needed a extra reminder. 

You flinch as he drops down on his knees. 

“I am going to uncuff you so you can change.” 

You sniffle and he takes it as confirmation to move. With your hands unlocked, you battle with Coriolanus over your clothes. He grasps the end of your dress, beginning to hike it up but you push down the fabric. 

“I can-” you manage. 

“I do the thinking for you, remember.” 

You don’t fight as he yanks the wet dress over you, throwing it behind him carelessly. He keeps his eyes as forward as he can as he slides the sleeves up your arms. Only looking down as he does up the buttons. It was oddly gentlemanly and you wonder if he did it for his sake or yours. 

“Stop,” you beg, as you feel his fingers hook over the elastic of your underwear. He doesn’t, going as far as to help you put on a fresh pair. He cuffs you once more to the oven before bringing one of the blankets and pillows back over. 

He lays the blanket over you without a word and props the pillow under your head before returning to makeshift bed. 

He lays on his side away from you, but you gather he doesn’t sleep, as an hour or so later he brings his pillow and blanket and curls up against your side. 

He gets his rest, but you are left in a state of shock that hinders your sleep. 

————-

Early the next morning you woke from the sound of Coriolanus stomping in the kitchen. He was eating beef jerky for breakfast. You wake with the sight of him leaning back against the wood counter, towards you. You try to sit up as much as you can while being tied down. 

Looking at the food, your stomach grumbles. 

“Hungry?” he asks. 

You nod in hope that mercy would be given to you. 

None was.

“Imagine how hungry you would be lost in the woods.”

“I would have made it back.” you contend. 

He strips off another piece as he answers, “You would be dead if I didn’t find you.” 

He throws the packet on the counter. It sits unbalanced on the side. 

“Are we going home?” You saw the bags were neatly packed in a pile and you thought calling the compound ‘home’ might earn you some beef jerky. 

“I have something I have to do. We’ll be back by this afternoon.” 

“What do you have to do?” 

“None of your business.” he snaps. 

The conversation ended as he walks over to the bags and picked up his gun that was resting against them. 

You watch him, dressed down in his white t-shirt and army pants, as he swings his rifle over his shoulder. 

“I’ll be back soon.” he comments, half way out the door. 

He walks through the forest at a slow pace. Careful not to miss the smallest bit of detail. 

Retracing the steps of that day, he makes it to where he was bitten by the snake. 

Time had overtaken the hunting ground. There was now grass where the earth once was.The branches and trees had healed from the damage done. 

He eyes the place where he attempted to shoot Lucy Gray and aims his gun like he did. 

He half-expected to see her in the space waiting for him, but it was just ground again. No clues were left for him to find.

There was no rotten smell overtaking his nose. No scrap of clothing left for him to find, or anything to indicate human life had been moving through the forest. 

He continues to walk through. 

The mockingjays squawk above him. If he was a better shot, he would have taken the time to kill at least some of them. But you would hear the gunfire and panic. 

With no sign of Lucy Gray, he continues his way up to the other cabins. He searches each one but they look untouched and run down. The heat of the sun beats down on him as he makes his way back. It was early afternoon by the time he had satisfied himself that Lucy Gray was nowhere in the woods. She could have made it back to District 12, but it was unlikely. He kept tabs on the Covey for months after he got back. He surely would have known if they were hiding her. She must have gone north like planned. He wondered if she made it, or if her body is now one with the earth. 

Either way, she was gone and Coriolanus could shake her from his memory. 

When he returned back to the cabin, you were busy yanking on your chains. 

He presses the point of the gun into your ankle, pinning it against the floor. You don’t try moving  under threat. He slides the gun slowly up your leg, over your calf, over your knee, inching up to the middle of your thigh under his shirt. You pulled against your chains, but don't verbally acknowledge you were scared. 

“Open your legs wider.” he demands. Instead you squeeze your thighs tighter together. 

He pushes the gun with more force against you. 

“I am in a very good mood. You would hate to ruin that wouldn’t you?” 

Deciding you would, you separate your legs. He nestles himself between you, pulling you closer by your thighs so your legs are past his hips. 

Thankfully the gun settles on the floor.

“I think we should talk about last night.” 

You shake your head no and he gives you a serious look. 

“Every time I give you an inch, you take a mile.” 

“I thought you were going to kill me.” 

“I have been nothing but patient and kind to you.”

You wanted to laugh at him but forced it down. It was not too late for you to end up dead in the forest. 

“I know, Coriolanus. And I am sorry. It’s just no one has ever cared for me like this before”. 

He laughs gently at you, “You’re trying at least.”

“It scared me. But if you give me another chance, I promise I won’t disappoint you.” 

He lays his body down on yours, keeping his weight off you by planking on his elbows. 

“You can have as many chances as it takes.” he promises, softly.

“Just one more.” you return in the same small voice. 

He kisses you as if you had earnestly promised to live up to his expectations. 

But really what you promised is that you would allow yourself one more chance of escape before he made good on his promise to kill your mother and Edmund. If you lead to their death, then you would follow them shortly after. 

---------------------------

NEXT CHAPTER

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[hb-writes]

Clara and Tommy Shelby, “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “You’re wearing two different shoes.” If that’s okay?

Tommy retrieved his pocket watch from his waistcoat, not so idly wondering when his sister would make his appearance and whether or not he’d need to make a second journey up the stairs to hurry her along. Frances had prompted her thrice before Tommy stood at the threshold, offering the type of incentivization Frances couldn’t or wouldn’t…a bit of a threat. 

Her brother’s words had gotten her out of the covers, at least, but with only a minute left before the deadline he’d given her, Tommy wondered if the threat of her missing out on tea and breakfast if she didn’t get herself downstairs hadn’t been enough. 

The breakfast table had been set for three—for him and Charlie and Clara, but Clara’s had remained untouched as Tommy and Charlie finished their meals long ago, long enough that Charlie had already been settled in the kitchen with his favorite maids, doing whatever it was the boy did all day while he and Clara were out.

Tommy replaced the pocket watch and readied himself to issue another threat when Clara appeared at the threshold, not even a glance spared to him as she headed straight for her spot at the table. Standing beside the chair, Clara poured herself a cup of tea. She reached out for a triangle of toast as she stirred the liquid, finishing it in a few quick bites.

“Are you ready? Where’s your coat?” she asked as she sipped the tea. 

Tommy’s jacket was still draped over a chair and his overcoat was with his briefcase in the closet by the front door, but Clara already donned her coat pulled over her haphazardly chosen outfit. Tommy looked her up and down as she took a break from her tea, reaching for a strawberry. 

“We’re going to be late,” she added before she downed her tea, the cup and saucer clattering as she set them both back on the table. “You were rushing me about…practically shouting for the whole countryside to hear and you’re not even ready.” 

Tommy might’ve corrected her—he hadn’t done anything close to shouting—but he was too distracted. He wasn’t any longer used to seeing his sister as she was now, her hair left down and her face fresh and free of the products she’d been experimenting with in recent years—powders and rouge and lipstick. Maybe in the mornings before she got ready for the day, he’d catch a glimpse of the girl before him now, but she didn’t walk about the house like that anymore. And she certainly didn’t go to school that way, much too concerned about appearances. 

While Tommy was comforted by it, the return to some sort of familiarity that was no longer his sister’s normal, the absence of her usual effort only served to highlight the exhaustion sowed in Clara’s face and the wan complexion that Tommy couldn’t help but wonder after.

“Are you alright?”

Clara nodded as she reached for another strawberry. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Besides the fact that it took an army and the threat of violence to get you out of bed…you’re wearing two different shoes.” 

Clara stopped chewing, swallowing quickly as she glanced down to her feet, down to the shoes that were indeed belonging to two separate pairs. 

“Oops,” she said, a red blush creeping into her cheeks. “I suppose I’d better go and—”

“Take this with you,” Tommy interrupted as she took a step away. Clara glanced down at the book Tommy held out between them, a bit of psychology by Freud that he’d just finished reading. Tommy hadn’t outright told her she couldn’t read it, but he hadn’t been open to discussing the book’s contents with her, dismissing most of her questions on the topic.

“Might as well keep it in your room if you’re only going to sneak down to my office in the middle of the night to read it.”

Clara took the book from his hand, suddenly reminded of similar discussions over the years, reminded of all the time on Watery Lane when she’d been scolded for going through her brother’s personal collection. “How did you—?”

“You left it out on the coffee table,” Tommy offered, though he wouldn’t have needed that as a clue. He knew his sister’s patterns well-enough by now, knew by the interest she’d shown while he was reading it that she’d have a go at it herself once he was through. 

“Right.” Clara nodded, holding the book to her chest. “Well, I’d better go change,” she said, readying herself once again to step away. 

“Clara?”

She turned back to her brother, eyebrows raised in question. 

“I don’t want you losing any more sleep over that book, alright?” 

Clara nodded before she walked away, leaving Tommy to think about all the sleep he’d lost as he sifted through the tome, both from his interest in reading and absorbing the content and from the anguish of his mind trying to sort through what it all meant, anguish he hoped his sister couldn’t relate to. 

Send me a drabble-ish prompt.

#this is not a drabble oops it's 800+ words. #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #clara shelby #little lady blinder #oh the anguish/comfort of reading a psychology book and relating to it #wouldn't wish it on anyone #thanks for the request!

[trulytiredhermit]

Imagine the reader who is absolutely good at making motivational speeches at any given opportunity using various random words.

They also give love advice too and the yanderes follow them.

"No matter what Link, even if life is truly unfair sometimes, how life just gives you trouble in every step, without life, you wouldn't have met them, you wouldn't have met the person you've been gushing about since forever, life is beautiful sometimes, it's just that you don't see its full beauty when all you're ever focusing on are the negative parts of it, i assure you that beneath that not so wonderful history you have with life, is a wonderful and beautiful one, just because you're going through a hard time doesn't mean that you won't ever be able to move past it, you're wonderful and caring and beautiful Link, they will like you back, i promise."

That's what the reader says.

Listen to me, listen to me. Reader be dense af rn if they’re giving the Yandere’s love advice.

AND I AM HERE FOR IT!

Ugh, if Reader said that to ANY of the yanderes (well not Wind mind you, he do be a child) but they’re sweeping Reader of their feet and proclaiming their marriage for the whole world to hear.

And you KNOW the Links try to drop subtle hints when they ask for live advice.

“What kind of gift would you like?”

“What’s your favorite (thing)?”

“Well, what are some things that you’d do on a first date?”

“How would you want someone to ask to court you?”

Besides that though, Reader giving the best motivational speeches

(haha jokes on you ANY speech reader gives is the best. Reader could say “Fuck ‘em up and don’t die.” And the Chain would be applauding, giving Reader the standing ovation they deserve!)

But anyways, Reader boosts the groups moral and mental health instantly.

Any Link could be severely injured, just hear a speech from Reader and all of a sudden they’re getting up like they’ve just downed 12 red potions.

Hyrule would especially love the motivational speeches Reader gives.

I mean the poor dude has a lot of self-doubt and self-worth issues.

But don’t worry my man, Reader’s got you covered you funky little magic dude you.

Warriors thinks you’d make an amazing general/high ranking officer in the army. You’d be able to rally support and energize/motivate the troops and soldiers.

Though he’d never let you fight, ever.

Time certainly appreciates your speeches when the boys are having a hard time while on the journey.

You’re just able to light up the room like no other.

The Chain also makes it a common thing now in your guys daily routine.

#trulytiredhermit #chromonomatic #linked universe #yandere lu x reader #linked universe x reader

[alcorian]

Not sure if you still want headcanons or ideas for OpBee (and sorry about your father) but here are some stuff I guess?:

Let's assume those are like mix of continuities

•Since Bee is in special forces and well a spy I feel like he would be very good at hiding his emotions, at least more better then what people give him credit for. OP is also very good at it but he also has his tells that Bee probably noticed over the centuries. Probably like his movement of his OP dials or mini expressions around his eyes like when they widen in surprise or crease in amusement or worry.

• I feel like Bee would rather scrub the whole ark with human toothbrush rather then confess, like at all. He is good bad at hiding his emotions about Optimus and he feels comfortable he yearns to be in this limbo of not knowing. He tends to fall fast and usually it ends up in heartbreak or painful rejection and hey we speaking of Optimus prime here.

•Optimus would fall slower but harder. He is used to not showing his true feelings so maybe he mistakes the slowly growing romantic affection for something else? Depends if we wanna ANGSTY route or fun route so inma go for ambiguous one.

•The first time Bee gets injured (like extended med stay injured) under Optimus command, he thinks he made a mistake allowing Bee out in the battle BC (insert angsty reason) untill he finds out the only reason bee was injured was because his cover was blown as he rescued a comrade from certain doom.

•From that a lot of feelings started to grow, constant worry over Bee health in particular which makes Optimus feel guilty BC he has a whole army to think about, not just Bee. But there is also pride whenever Bee manages to accomplish something great like obtaining crucial information or managing to twart decepticon plans. There is also frustration whenever Bee gets Infront of unnecessary danger like taking a shot for him that he could have easily take on.

•Different love languages!!! I feel like whilst Optimus love language would be acts of service Bee would be verbal. Optimus can't just act like he blatantly favorites Bee so he finds different ways to show his love like spending his short free time with bee or even doing paperwork in the same room. Leaving small gifts that Bee offhandedly mentioned or doing what he can to make Bee happy.

Bee on the other hand would find words be just a tad more meaningful. For me it's like, he is a spy he needs to be showed he is loved through action but he feels that if he tried reciprocate it would came as less genuine. So he speaks and speaks and finds words to say Optimus about what he loves how he loves. He lets himself be himself in those moments.

If he looses his voice around this time it would be even more devastating as he lost his main way to show love. Sure he can give gifts and show his love in different ways but his main way was taken away from him. He still grieves it.

•They probably share quality time as shared loved language.

I'm not sure about character limit in asks so inma end it here and hope those helps in any way!!! I'm more then happy to send some more :D

sorry for spelling mistakes I tried to catch them but screen be blurry dbdhdh

-@);-- R anon

thank you so much!! its good to keep my mind off my family situation right now. and i loooove all these headcanons.

i love bee and optimus slowly learning to read each other better than most of their peers... slowly picking up on each others feelings.

i also think bee could really easily view himself as "not worthy" because, i mean, its a prime. he might view his crush on op as something that would be insulting or even blasphemous if optimus were to find out.

meanwhile, optimus thinks his feelings are wrong because of the power he holds as a prime--he thinks that if he confesses, bee will say yes just to please him. so he keeps those feelings very close to his spark. he also probably worries about responsibility and impartiality as a commanding officer. (irl, in the military, your commanding officer often cannot be your partner due to the bias it can cause in decision-making)

such good angst ideas in here, i am eating it up.

#askbox #Anonymous #opbee #optimus prime #bumblebee #transformers

[heckitall]

How do military ranks work? Especially between different branches. Ik that like admiral is for navy but the rest of the terminology is lost on me lol

WOOF

okay! first of all, you're completely right - ranks across the US branches are completely different which is extremely dumb. We don't even know all of them, we only memorize the ones within our own branch (and if we work closely with a sister branch).

ranks are broken up into two sections: enlisted and officers. i explained this the other day kind of morbidly, but basically it works out to:

enlisted -> meatshields

officers -> meatshield directors

officers join the military with degrees that usually the military paid for them to get. meaning, the military was like, hey we need people who have a degree in x

and people are like "oh i want that degree"

and the military goes "great! once you have said degree, you belong to us for 4-6 years"

and people agree to that. officers are the leaders. a group of enlisted are always overseen by officers of varying ranks.

now, enlisted (which is what i was) can be any Schmoe off the street. ie, i had no where else to go and was desperate and the military said "hey we can board and feed you for the next 4-6 years" and i said "oh that's nice" and they said "great we own you now".

enlisted salute officers (enlisted are never saluted (unless you're me and wore an officer rank one afternoon to see how long it took anyone to notice AND I GOT IN A LOT OF TROUBLE DO NOT RECOMMEND)

officers only salute higher ranking officers (ie, a first lieutenant salutes a captain)

enlisted do the grunt work. towards the end of my career, i got to oversee officers (and BOY DID THEY HATE THAT) and whenever we needed something done (like a closet cleaned out) the officers would go "this looks like an enlisted job"

not saying officers are terrible

or that enlisted are worthless

you need both to work cohesively in the kind of environments the military works in

usually the first 4-ish ranks on both enlisted and officers are 'give away' ranks. meaning if you don't get into a bunch of trouble, you'll make rank just based on time. after that, making rank requires testing.

even tho ranks are different across the sister branches, they also go by a number code. E-1 thru E-8 are enlisted, while O-1 thru O-6 (and higher) are officers.

so an E-2 in the Air Force is an Airman First Class

an E-2 in the Army is Private 2nd Class

an O-3 in the Air Force is a Captain

an O-3 in the Army is also a Captain. in fact, i'm pretty sure captain is one of the only ranks that's in all branches of the US military. so bad example. but my point still stands lmao

officers and enlisted DO NOT INTERMINGLE. seriously. no dating, no interacting outside of work (within reason), no "showing favorites". officers are untouchable gods to enlisted. it's weird. trust me.

i once matched with my lieutenant on a dating app and deleted the whole app because i was scared it was a trap (it probably was).

uhhhhh i hope that sort of helps! i figured if you were looking for actual rank names, it might be easier to google them. if youre using ranks for a story, i'd first figure out which branch you want them from and then google the ranking system. E4/O3 is when most people become competent in the military.

#heck asks #military #us military #military ranks #or you can be like most movies and just make up ranks lmao #us air force #us army

[gaelic-symphony]

A Year in the Life: November

Twelve vignettes from the married life of Tara Lewis and Emily Prentiss, written for the Year of the OTP writing challenge.

A week late because...*gestures vaguely at the state of everything*

Prompt: Be careful what you wish for. Also part of @imagining-in-the-margins' office party writing challenge.

Words: 794

Warnings: none

Read on AO3 or below the cut

            Emily looked at the calendar on the wall in the kitchen and noticed that Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away.

            “Hey, babe,” she called out to her wife in the other room, “Are we doing Thanksgiving with your family again this year?”

            “No, I don’t think so,” Tara replied without looking up from her newspaper, “My dad’s flying out to California to see Gabriel, and since Aunt Thelma moved into assisted living, she can’t really host us all anymore.”

            “Oh, okay,” Emily said, “Um, well, I guess now that my mom’s back in the country we could do Thanksgiving with her, but…”  Emily didn’t even need to finish that sentence; Tara knew that holidays with Elizabeth ranked pretty low on the list of Emily’s favorite things.

            “I thought we might just have a low-key dinner just the two of us,” Tara said, “You know, we’ve been working so hard lately, it might be nice to have some quiet time to ourselves.”

            “Yeah, that could be nice,” Emily nodded, but Tara could hear the disappointment in her voice.  She thought of how many holidays Emily had spent alone and felt a pang of guilt.

            Tara came from a large extended family, and even when her father’s military service took them abroad, they lived on military bases where the other Americans stationed overseas treated them like family.  She took for granted having a place to go for Thanksgiving or Christmas, because it was always a given.  Emily didn’t grow up like that.  She was an only child who spent too much time living abroad to become close with what little extended family she did have, and her mother’s work meant she moved around so often that she never got to build any strong community ties.  She didn’t have childhood memories of big Thanksgiving dinners, all the aunts and uncles and cousins gathered around a turkey, fighting over who got to break the wishbone.

            But they had a family now, the BAU family, and Emily didn’t need to spend her holidays alone anymore.  Matt and Kristy were more than happy to set two extra places at their Thanksgiving table, and Emily would get to spend the holiday in a house full of love and laughter and rambunctious kids.  On Thanksgiving Day, they arrived at the Simmons house bearing a pecan pie (Tara’s contribution to the meal) and a bottle of wine (Emily’s contribution).  No sooner had they stepped inside and shed their coats than the five Simmons children came running to the door to greet them.

            “Emily!” David cried, hurling himself against her with a forceful hug that nearly knocked her backwards.

            Tara felt a sticky little hand slip into hers, and she looked down to see Rose’s little face looking up at her expectantly.

            “Come see my turkey picture, Auntie Tara!” Rose said, pulling on Tara’s hand and leading her into the playroom.

            Matt’s mom had flown in from Michigan, and Kristy’s parents had come over early that morning to help with getting dinner ready and wrangling the children.  Her brother and sister-in-law came over that afternoon, bringing two more kids of their own.  When dinner was ready, they all sat down to a long table set for sixteen which was absolutely jam packed with serving dishes of turkey and a whole host of Thanksgiving sides.  It looked like it could feed an entire army.  There’s no way this all gets eaten, Emily thought, naïvely.

            This was unlike any Thanksgiving dinner Emily had ever been to before.  Tara had a big family, but Thanksgiving at Aunt Thelma’s was never this loud, this boisterous, this joyfully chaotic.  Dishes were passed around the table in never-ending cycles, and chatter seemed to come from every direction.  Occasionally someone would knock something over or drop something or spill something, and everyone would leap up from their chairs to clean up the mess.  Jake spilled gravy on Emily’s sleeve, but in all the commotion of the Thanksgiving table, she barely even noticed.  The whole evening was such a whirlwind of food and family and noise that she barely even noticed that they finished off the entire turkey.  No being sent home with a tote bag full of leftovers this time.

            When Tara and Emily finally got back to their quiet, empty house, Emily flopped down on the couch with a happy sigh.  Tara climbed onto the couch and curled up next to her.

            “Mmmm, quiet at last,” Emily said with a slight chuckle.

            “Those kids wore you out, huh?” Tara teased.

            “There’s so many of them!” Emily laughed.

            “You’re the one who wanted a big family Thanksgiving dinner…”

            “I know,” Emily said, “And I loved it.”

            “Good.”

            “But…maybe next year a low-key night to ourselves wouldn’t be so bad, either.”

#criminal minds #fanfiction #emily prentiss #tara lewis #temily #otp #yotp 2023

[http-paprika]

MEET THE OC! a tedtalk by paprika that no one asked for

after writing GOLD RUSH and spending some time toying around with the little character of Beau, I decided I'd take a chance and share her with you! If you have any further questions and want to know more about her or her story, please reach out in the comments or my inbox!

GENERAL INFORMATION Government Name: Beaumont Khalil Summerlin Preferred Name: Beau

Date of Birth: June 23, 1991 Star Sign: Cancer

Hometown: Yuma, Arizona

Native Languages: English and Arabic Learned Languages: Spanish and a Bit of Russian

CAREER Occupation: Linguistics and Intel Officer; Special Field Agent Branch of Government: Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) Supervisor: Kate Laswell Former Occupation: Translation and Negotiations with the US Marines under Captain Yoko S. Tanaka

RELATIVES and ASSOCIATES Father: James H. Summerlin, Sr. -- Retired US Marine Mother: Sana E. Summerlin -- Arabic and Anthology Professor

Brothers: James H. Summerlin, Jr. -- Enlisted Military Police in the Army; Asher G. Summerlin -- Enlisted Air Force Linguist Sister: Mona R. Summerlin -- Student at the University of Texas

Best Friend: Jolene H. Maxfield-Graves -- Intel Officer Partner: Alex Keller -- CIA-SAD Officer

APPEARANCE Height: 5'11 Build: Athletic

Complexion: Tanned Noticeable Markings: Scar from Bullet Wound on Left Shoulder, Barbed Wire Tattoo on Lower Back

Hair: Light Brown, Wavy Texture Eyes: Dark Green, Almond Shaped

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION Favorite Book: Jack Reacher; Running Blind by Lee Child Favorite TV Show: The X-Files Favorite Album: Bridge Over Troubled Water by Simon & Garfunkel

Choice of Cuisine: Vietnamese Favorite Dish: Duck Pho

MBTI Personality Type: ENTP Ennagram Type: 8 - The Active Controller Love Language: Words of Affirmation

HER PAST In 1982, when James Sr. was stationed in Lebanon during a peacekeeping tour with the US Marines, he met his wife Sana who was a local working as a translator for the Marines. The two often worked together and quickly fell in love, and when his deployment came to an end, he promised to return to Lebanon for her so they could be married. In 1984, he returns to Lebanon and much to the displeasure of her religious parents, Sana leaves with James and they elope. Bringing her back to the states, he is stationed in Jacksonville, North Carolina where Sana persues further education and later gives birth to their firstborn son, James. Jr. in 1888. In 1990, after being restationed in Yuma, Arizona they have their second child and first daughter, Beaumont.

Beau spent her first years of life moving from one place to another and was often withdrawn as a child. Prefering to be alone than playing with her brother and younger siblings. From an early age her parents noted that she had a greater interest in knowledge and reading, being more idept in Arabic than the rest of her siblings. In her teen years, with newer gained confidence, she sought higher education with hopes to attend university in Hawaii where her family was stationed at the time, receiving a handsome scholarship from the school of her choice. But an old colleague of her father, Scott Hardy, encouraged her to join the Marines and follow in her mother's footsteps as a trained translator, later becoming a negotiations specialist who was known for being level-headed and quick witted.

Feeling unfilled with her career choice, Beau left the Marines at the age of 22 to return to academics. But received attention from Kate Laswell after narrowly saving a whole Marine Corp Squard from bombing with her quick ability to process intel. Laswell, determined to recruit Beau under her, offers her a position that'll allow Beau to attend university in Washington, DC while working for the CIA as a linguistic and intel analyst.

After a few years of office works and receiving her degree through excelurated work, Beau accepts a field assignment to work in her mother's homeland of Lebanon. Stationed there, she spends time reconnecting with her heritage whilst helping filter through intel for all of the middle east. During her time in Lebanon is when Beau first meets Alex Keller during his time in SAD. And though there is an instant spark, the two are off and on, never having the avaliabity and emotional energy to commit to a full-term relationship.

Beau is referred by Laswell to a new field assignment to work alongside the US Marines and International Corp in Urzikstan as tense begins to arise between forces. (Where MWII starts up) During her time in Urzikstan, her relationship with Keller becomes more serious in the threat of terror and her specialty and skills catch the eye of Captain John Price who tries to recruit her as a support member of TF141. Hoping it'll give her a chance to return and finish her work in Urzikstan along with letting her be with Keller, Beau accepts the position and begins working alongside TF141.

#meet the oc #oc #original female character #call of duty oc #cod original character #character introduction #original character: beau summerlin #call of duty #call of duty mw #alex keller x original character #alex keller

[dominickeating-source]

Star Trek Magazine (2002)

As ENTERPRISE approaches the end of its opening season, we catch up with Dominic Keating to get his view of Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, weapons officer and action hero.

After several months of ENTERPRISE's grueling weekly shooting schedule, Dominic Keating is as energetic as he was on day one. "I'm still cheery!" he says. "It's going well. It's been a hell of a ride, but I've really found my place, and I'm having a great time. And they're starting to look at Malcolm quite closely, and that's really fun."

MAJOR EPISODE

Dominic's biggest show so far has been 'Shuttlepod One,' aired in February, and he was delighted with it. "Dare I say it was quite the best work I've ever put into a camera lens. Connor and I had an amazing time; the chemistry between us was electric. It was a great dynamic, and I think the fact that I'm English adds an extra angle for an American audience, just in that I would be the voice of reason. Malcolm isn't all doom and gloom, although Trip refers to him as the Grim Reaper; he bares his soul, and it's a very moving moment when you actually get to see inside the somewhat brittle shell of this army man. He's becoming a real, breathing, living human being. This episode was groundbreaking--I can't say it in any other way; you see a side of this man that's real and that's very touching and vulnerable, and I just hope that episode does not just sit out there and never happens again."

The actors suffered real-life discomfort while making the show. "They froze the stage!" says Dominic. "That was the hardest part of the whole filming. They brought the temperature down inside this igloo that they had built, and put the shuttlepod in there. In the script we had turned down the thermostat in the shuttle to conserve oxygen, so, space being as cold as it is, the temperature inside the shuttle drops to below zero, so they wanted to see our breath.

SUFFERING ON THE SET

"The gag kind of worked, but you weren't seeing enough breath, so it became a hell of a process, which took about a day to figure out. They literally shot 20 seconds at a time, and in between they just filled up the shuttlepod with liquid nitrogen and turned on six huge, massive air-conditioning units that made a real din. We shot for three days like that, and it was hard! It was freezing cold, very noisy, and it was hard to listen and hear, and you never really got a run at a scene. If I'd had to do another day I'm sure I could have dug it up from inside of me, but at the end of the third day, when we knew it was over, my knees just buckled. But, like I say, we put some incredible stuff in the camera, and I think it's one of the finest hours."

Previously, 'Silent Enemy' had made it clear that Malcolm is pretty hard to fathom, and even his parents didn't know what his favorite food was. Dominic says, "That episode brought the audience's attention to the fact that you don't know much about this guy, and actually by the end of the episode you still don't know that much about him! But I was glad they didn't try to wrap me up in an hour's show. It was a great forerunner to 'Shuttlepod One,' where you really get to see the mettle of this guy."

AVOIDING CLICHÉS

Had Dominic been aware there was more to come? "Not really, no--like every other show I've worked on, they keep us pretty much in the dark. We're like mushrooms; every now and again they open the door and shovel some scripts on us! But I'm glad he's not two-dimensional, and I'm glad they didn't just make him this gun-crazy, buttoned-down Brit. I was fearful that ultimately that's what was going to happen to me on the show, but they haven't done that. And I remember saying that to Rick Berman after they'd offered me the job and I went to meet them all, 'I don't want to become a talking head over a console that just happens to be English; the money's great and everything, but I'd pull my hair out! And it hasn't become that, and I'm really happy. My fear, though, is whether they know where to find a normal episodic voice for Malcolm, so that he actually gets to be in the shows when he's not doing something extraordinary every few episodes--a place where he has a normal voice with the captain and the rest of the crew."

Despite being an ensemble show, it's usual in STAR TREK for a pair or threesome to become the main focus of attention, whether deliberately or naturally arising out of the chemistry between the actors. "There was a moment when I was fearful that it was Trip, T'Pol, and the captain, and I rang Brannon [Braga] and he said, 'Well, just hang in there; there's a long way to go yet.' And then they started looking at him, and I'm really happy about that. But if they wheel him out once every seven shows and give him a really cracking go, then I can play golf and go to the beach the rest of the days, and learn how to direct, and do something else."

ENSEMBLE CAST

"I look at this show and I think, 'Why can't it be like 'er': just a bunch of people working.' I think it would be just as feasible to make all these characters real human beings who happen to work on a starship, and to give them real emotions and put them in real situations, either on an alien planet or just working with each other. I think there's room for a lot of drama between them on the ship, and I hope they do it; I don't know whether they will. They have something of a formula that they know works, but I think with this incarnation they seem to be going for more human drama."

Dominic feels close enough to his character to recognize that he's using some of his own personality traits to help portray Malcolm. "I don't want to make him altogether me because 'altogether me' is not Malcolm Reed. But there's certainly an element of me; I nearly joined the army as a 17-year-old, and I was a very keen cadet officer in school, and so I'm kind of playing him like I was when I was at school aged 17, quite frankly! That's what I'm referring to in my little library of the Dominics I know. That side of me is the one he's closest to, when I was a teenager and a serious student thinking about joining the army, but of course I liked running off to the pub as well, trying to kiss all the girls! So he's multifaceted, I hope, but it takes me a while as an actor to appreciate that a character can have contrasting and conflicting character traits that aren't completely in sync with one another. Sometimes I find myself pulling a face or laughing inside about something and I think, 'Oh stop it; that's not very Malcolm,' and then I realize it could easily be Malcolm and not just me. I'm really exploring the character just as much as the writers are."

Dominic is also enjoying the more boisterous scenes. "Another thing I like that they're doing for me, of course, is that being the tactical officer I get to be the action man. In 'Sleeping Dogs' we were on a Klingon ship and Malcolm is in the thick of it, and gets beaten up by this Klingon supermodel. It was hard work--somehow I signed up to do the stunt myself, and we were wearing EVA suits; and, man, that's quite a trip, getting beat up in an EVA suit!"

WHAT'S IN A NAME?

If there's anything Dominic is not 100 percent happy with, it's being called Malcolm. "At the first meeting, apart from saying I didn't want him to be this and that, I also said, 'And do we have to call him Malcolm?' They must have listened because there's a moment in ˜Shuttlepod One™ where I have a dream sequence and I think we've been rescued and, as Archer and the doctor are leaving sickbay, T'Pol is hanging around, and then starts coming on to me and telling me that Vulcan's can't resist heroism and I acted unlike the rest of my species. She says, ˜May I call you Malcolm?™ and I say that that's fine but I've never liked the name because I always thought it was a bit too stuffy!"

TV AND FILM ROLES

Dominic's career back home in the UK included a regular role for six years on the comedy show, "Desmond's" as well as guest spots on major TV drama shows, including "Inspector Morse™ He has lived in the States for several years, and was already becoming familiar to TV audiences thanks to guest spots on "G Vs E" and "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and most recently, "The Immortal" in which he had a recurring role. I played the Prince of Darkness! That was really fun to do. And I've got a movie coming out called "The Hollywood Sign" with Burt Reynolds, Tom Berenger, and Rod Steiger, playing my first American role - I went to this audition for a part as a mob guy from New York, and they bought it and gave me the job! I showed up on the first day of shooting with an English accent, and they said, "What the...™

But for the next few years, Dominic's career will be centered on STAR TREK. Is he happy at the prospect? "Yeah, I am. It was a consideration for about nought point three seconds, but I'm at a time in my life where I want what this will give me, which is security. If I finish STAR TREK in seven years and perhaps do a couple of movies with these guys, that'll be great. And I'm going to start directing; I'm at the LA Film School and am taking classes there. I have to inform Rick [Berman] somewhere down the road that I'd like to direct, and if I show him that I really want to do it, he'll let me. They're wonderful like that."

FUTURE PROSPECTS

As for performing, I'm a good actor, I think.- if I can blow my own trumpet -"and a versatile one; and with a bit of luck, and a producer or director with some imagination, I could certainly go on and do other stuff that's far removed from STAR TREK. But if STAR TREK is the rest of my acting career from here on in, fine " particularly if they write stuff for me like "Shuttlepod one" I was utterly thrilled and complete doing that; it was everything I would ever want to do in front of a camera.

BIOGRAPHY

Dominic Keating was born in Leicester, England. Cast in a school play while at prep school, he developed an interest in acting that continued during boarding school, where he had the lead role in a Shakespearean play. He then attended University College in London, studying for a BA in history, but also continued to perform in several theater productions; his credits to date include "Live Class™ ,˜Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead","The Christian Brothers", and "The Best Years of Your Life."

While still in the UK, Dominic played the regular role of Tony in popular sitcom, "Desmonds" which ran for six years, and guested in one of Britaina's most popular TV detective shows, "Inspector Morse™ He moved to Los Angeles a few years back, and is best known to American TV audiences for guest roles in ˜The Immortal,™ in which he played the roll of Mallos, ˜G vs E",˜Special Unit 2,˜Buffy the Vampire Slayer,™ and ˜Poltergeist: The Legacy.™

He has also had several big-screen roles; he starred in ˜Jungle2Jungle™ opposite Tim Allen and Martin Short, and appeared in the Academy Award-winning movie ˜Almost Famous,™ and before signing on for ENTERPRISE, he filmed ˜The Hollywood Sign™ with Burt Reynolds. He also plans to take up directing, and is currently studying at the LA Film School.

Source: www.dominickeating.com

#dominic keating #the keating cult #star trek enterprise

[marvelettesassemblenow]

Tati's Fic Rec's 3

As always thank you guys for sharing your beautiful stories with us! No special order and I'll continue filling the list (previous recs)

Stucky

Happy Ending by @teddybearbucky | OS - ABO |  when Steve’s mate joins the team you push down your feelings for the alpha, but you can still be his - well his and Bucky’s. Love triangles rarely have a happy ending, but this one does.

Bucky

It’s All In The Eyes by @writing-for-marvel | OS - Biker AU | When home becomes a person, not a place.

Sweeter Than Honey by @foreverindreamlandd | Series - completed | You're bestselling author Tony Stark's new PA on tour with him in Dublin, Ireland. When things start to go wrong and you end up with a flat tire in the middle of nowhere, a handsome, blue-eyed Irishman named Bucky Barnes comes to your rescue.

unexpected by @pellucid-constellations | OS |  With all of his rough edges and impassive glances, Bucky Barnes looked to be the last person you’d find at an elementary school bake sale. Too bad Steve couldn’t make it, and dealing with a class hopped up on sugar wasn’t a feat you could manage alone.

incandescent glow (your touch brought forth) by @cupidsbarnes | OS - modern AU | bucky barnes has a knack for finding warmth. his job as a firefighter. steve and nat and their unwavering warmth and kindness. you, and your daughter, and the sunshine filled smiles and laughs. 

he’s just trying to figure out how to tell you he wants it all with you.

You Cut A Mean Rug, Doll Face by @wiypt-writes | OS - 40's Bucky | You help Bucky escape some unwanted attention by offering to be his fake date to a Gala. What could possibly go wrong?

my city, my partner by @real-jane | OS | you’ve been in love with scotland since you visited in high school, and in love with your partner for three years. when life becomes too much, bucky conspires to get you back to edinburgh.

Brooklyn Honey by @sanguineterrain | OS - 40's | Life in the city ain’t always so pretty, but you’ve got Bucky and he’s got you.  

The Knight and the Queen’s Lady & Worth This Love by @avecra | TwoShot | Being the Queen’s lady to your best friend had its advantages. For instance, she always made sure you were always accompanied by Captain James Barnes, the knight who had seemed to meddle his way into your life. Over time, the wall you seemed to have built around yourself starts to crumble, as you begin realize your true feelings for the knight.

YOURS LIPS, MY LIPS, APOCALYPSE by @nexusnyxyx | OS | Working at Ouroboros Ranch meant peace for you. The facility for recovery and Equine therapy never had a dull moment—its patients and work staff always ended the three-month healing period as friends, sometimes even family. It’s why you returned after college to this lonely city in the mountains—familiarity. It all changes when a certain Army vet shows up as part of the program. Barnes may not be one of your patients, but he seems to take a liking to you anyway.

DO YOU HEAR MY HEART? (DON’T FORGET IT) by @mellowsaturns | OS | A fight in the office happens because of a broody super soldier which leads to said soldier coming to your apartment to check up on you

TIME AFTER TIME by @intrepidacious | series - ongoing | After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

The Course of Love by @motsdouxdejanie | OS | Your clueless best friend has been oblivious to your feelings for two whole years, regardless of how many hints you drop. However, it seems that your situation may not be as hopeless as you think.

Pick Up & Delivery by @sweetascanbeebee | OS - Modern AU | You order pizza from your favorite shop, and a little surprise comes with it

Three Hundred by @adrinktostopyourthirst | OS | Bucky always makes sure his best friend is okay, because that is what you need. He's caring, but very passive and nonchalant, because you need it. Not him. He doesn't need that. He doesn't need you. Does he?

Forgotten Keys and Warm Tea by @fandoms-writings | OS - Modern AU | Your date was horrible, you’re locked out of your apartment, and the rain soaked through your dress. Luckily, the only other person awake at this hour is your neighbor, and he’s more than willing to help you. 

BLIND ROADS by @intrepidacious | OS | “I’m James Bucky Barnes. This is my charming fiancée. We rob banks.” (or, the Bonnie and Clyde AU literally no one asked for.)

The Quest for Love by @sgtjbuccky | series completed | (Modern-Day!AU) Work has always been a priority for Bucky, leaving things like love long forgotten, and for him it’s no problem, but for Sam and Steve it is the biggest problem to grace this earth. Fed up with Bucky and his constants protest and avoidance of love, they set him up on a series of dates to find the girl of his dreams with the help of the magical spirit of December. Only for Bucky to realize that love isn’t always found where one goes looking for it, but may be close by.  

Resolutions by @starry-eyed-queen-16 | OS | New Year’s resolution to date more this year, which is making your best friend bummed for some reason

Rain Therapy by @stardustdreams-andcaffeine | OS | The line between friends and lovers is impossibly thin, yet somehow the hardest line to cross. It’s a line that you and Bucky just can’t seem to break, but it’s nothing one of Tony’s infamous parties can’t fix.

Almost Believing by @intrepidacious | OS | You and Bucky aren’t exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn’t mean you’re getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

Warrior/Worrier by @delaber | OS |  After a mission gone awry, Bucky finds himself on your doorstep in the middle of the night.

Steve

Stepping on Toes by @writing-for-marvel | OS - 40's | Despite observing his feelings for Peggy, you couldn’t help but fall for Steve Rogers - then he asks you to teach him how to dance.

quiet is the life by @pellucid-constellations | OS | Steve didn’t mean to fall in love with you—not when his life had become a high-speed chase, him against the law. But he did, and you brought a comfort he never thought he’d know. In return, he brought danger. You didn’t seem to mind. 

Always you by @fangirlovestuff | OS - modern AU | You’ve met Steve and Bucky in middle school. Now, at Bucky’s wedding, some important information is revealed, and some important realizations are made in its wake. Steve was your first crush, Bucky was your first boyfriend. You three have stayed friends through it all, but now, when your best-friend-with-benefits Steve asks for your help, will the dynamic shift?

bug and bear by @real-jane | OS | you’re set to marry a man you’re not sure you even like, but the person going to all the appointments with you is your life-long best friend.

MOVING ON by @intrepidacious | OS | He gets caught up in the lines and the streak of sunshine on your skin, until you catch him staring and raise a questioning eyebrow, so he looks away, reluctantly, unable to hide the small grin that appears on his face.

The Garden by @wkemeup | OS | Months after you disappeared on a mission and are presumed dead, Steve is still struggling to hold himself together. But when he confronts a dangerous target on a mission in Lisbon, Steve’s world is turned upside down. 

i’m listening (between the lines) by @bucky-fricking-barnes | OS | Y/N is in charge of reviewing the Avengers’ mission reports, and when Steve brings her coffee to apologize for all the paperwork, something more comes of it.

BROOKLYN, THURSDAY NIGHT by @intrepidacious | OS | It’s the third Thanksgiving after the Blip, and you’ve become a habit Steve’s unable to shake.

#stucky x reader #fic recs #bucky x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #steve x you #marvel fanfictions #recommendations

[maxwell-grant]

Bingo: Speedwagon

Oh man, I missed the chance to post this on October 16th, Speedwagon's canon birthday! My blunder, everyone, I'm sorry.

Do I even have to say I love Speedwagon? Everyone loves Speedwagon, even people that dislike Part 1 love Speedwagon, and I'm on the record stating Phantom Blood's my favorite part. But yeah, I love Speedwagon, I love the roles he plays, I love what he does for the story and JJBA as a whole.

I love that Speedwagon is a cartoon gangster named after a 70s rock band with a razor-bladed boomerang hat and who walks around saying he can SMELL evil. A dude who gets kicked in the face ONCE and immediately commands an army of thugs from the nastiest street in London to stop, and let the protagonist pass through unharmed, on top of swearing lifelong loyalty to the guy on the spot. A dude who walks into hell with no superpowers to fight off zombies with a giant hammer. a dude who gets Scrooge McDuck-level rich by sheer accident and proceeds to start a foundation that exists to fight evil, in order assist the family of the guy who kicked his face so hard his entire moral character did a 180. A DUDE WHOSE PIPING HOT ABS ARE ENOUGH TO STAVE OFF SUPERNATURAL FROSTING, is a dude who is, comparatively speaking, one of the more normal JoJo characters. Speedwagon sets the tone for the entire series from the get-go, the first intrusion of the "Bizarre" into JoJo's Bizarre Adventure.

I love that Speedwagon is, in a way, the voice of Araki. He follows the role of anime hypeman as the guy who stands in the sidelines narrating everything going on in detail and making sure everyone knows how deeply cool his buddy JoJo is and how deeply evil his enemy Dio is and how much JoJo needs to kick his ass and SAVE US ALL, and he does that better than anyone, but he's also the character most important for Araki to convey points of characterization too. When he looks at the scene where Erina's taking care of Jonathan and drawing attention to her hands, her hands! This fine lady's hands are all cracked and calloused! She must have been tending after JoJo's burns for hours! Why would an ordinary nurse be this devoted?!!! and, just, why would you ever want this kind of information conveyed to you through an ordinary narrator when you can have The Meddlesome Dastardly Interrupting Speedwagon excitedly narrate things to you that you need to know?

Or when Speedwagon quite literally acts as Araki's voice in the text to tell us that Dio's lying through his teeth in using his poor background as an excuse for his evil, and Speedwagon of course exists to provide this contrast because he himself is a dirtbag from the slums and yet, HE KNOWS TRUE EVIL WHEN HE SMELLS IT, or later when Dio's freaking out over the Hamon rose in his eye and Speedwagon pointificates THERE IT IS! HIS CHEAP SOFISTICATION, NOTHING BUT A MASK!, just, man, I live for Speedwagon shittalking Dio like this. This is exactly the kind of character needed to sell the pro-wrestling nonsense of early JoJo to a 2010s irony-poisoned anime audience, sometimes you absolutely need a highly enthusiastic Captain Obvious to narrate and announce these things and make it clear that this is what the series is about and it’s not gonna be tongue-in-cheek about it, this is the completely earnest ridiculousness you signed up for, get with the program. 

I love this moment, so much, and what it informs about their dynamic. I do like that Speedwagon is also to show how dramatically the stakes raise upon Dio’s transformation to vampire, where Speedwagon, a big shot criminal who'd given Jonathan a rough time and had been instrumental in taking down Dio, is completely and utterly powerless before him now, but even after seeing Dio rise from the grave and slaughter officers before him, Speedwagon doesn’t bat an eyelid at shooting Dio in the forehead to protect Jonathan, who still couldn’t bring himself to fire at him. I like that Speedwagon does the best he can even while being helpless, whether it’s the aforementioned ab-based cooldown or shouting warnings towards Jonathan or holding off zombies with a giant hammer or, y’know, dedicating the rest of his entire life towards helping raise Jonathan’s son and grandson and establishing a foundation for the purpose of helping fight off supernatural evil and assisting the Joestars even after Speedwagon’s death, even to the point of dying a bachelor at the age of 89. Little things you just do for your buddy, y’know, after he kicks you in the face that hard, and not even hard enough! 

Like, the crux of Speedwagon’s entire initial admiration for Jonathan is that, while he was in the process of mugging him and sawing straight through his arm, Jonathan didn’t kick him hard enough to kill him despite being able to! That was enough for Speedwagon to command the ENTIRETY OF OGRE STREET to stop so he could ask Jonathan why (and ALL OF OGRE STREET stops when they hear Speedwagon, not even threatening them, just saying he wouldn’t forgive them if they attempted anything, and honestly that in it’s own already says a ton about the kind of prestige and influence Speedwagon must have had), and upon hearing that Jonathan was worried about Speedwagon’s life and the possibility of upsetting his father (which Speedwagon immediately thinks as naive), upon noticing that this towering nobleman didn’t even hurt his stabby friends too badly either, immediately started calling him friend and decided to help this guy, also partially to make up for slicing open his arm. 

This is an incredible introduction to a character, and one that I think implied some pretty fascinating storytelling threads for Speedwagon, even some pretty sad ones, considering Speedwagon’s instant dismissal of Jonathan’s concern for his father, and the fact that all it took for Speedwagon to turn his life around was getting kicked in the face more nicely than he expected to, by someone who could have killed him but chose not to. As funny as it is, it sets up a pretty damn morbid idea of what kindness even looks like to him. More importantly, it helps to set up Jonathan as an archetypal paragon to match Dio’s supreme evil, because Speedwagon starts off a bad guy, but he’s a human bad guy (the first of many JoJo characters to follow the “you beat me up, we’re friends now” shonen school of redemption), one who becomes small and petty by comparison to the greater evil  at play, and through contact with Jonathan, Speedwagon finds a better purpose. Even when following Jonathan into hell and meeting horrors beyond anything he could have imagined, even when despair and fear hit him hard, he still throws Jonathan his sword and does what little he can to make a difference, and that little eventually turns into a lot. 

I love that Speedwagon, a lowly street thug born into functionally identical circumstances as Dio (and without the 7 years spent as a privileged son of a noble family), who showed up almost specifically to shit over Dio and the idea that his background is an excuse, proceeded to achieve the riches and prestige that Dio backstabbed the Joestars in pursuit of, and used them to become the single greatest force of good in this world. Even decades after his demise, the Speedwagon Foundation is still around, providing ambulances and vehicles and resources and doctors and the means for the Joestars to be helped out and provided for, all the way to Stone Ocean in 2012 with Speedwagon Foundation doctors working around the clock to keep Jotaro Kujo alive, a full 60 years after Speedwagon’s demise. 

He wasn’t a Joestar, he wasn’t a supernatural force or able to fight them, and he still stood his ground and pulled his weight to the bitter end and beyond to make the world a better place and make sure his friend didn’t die for nothing. Speedwagon rules, plain and simple. Completely deserves his status as a fan favorite and I’m glad he was never entirely forgotten.

#replies tag #character opinion bingo #jjba #jojo #jojo's bizarre adventure #phantom blood #speedwagon #robert e o speedwagon #hirohiko araki

[wellntruly]

M*A*S*H - Viewguide, S10

Are you interested in the long-running anti-war situation tragicomedy M*A*S*H (1972-1983), but there are simply so many asterisks and so many episodes?

Well I can’t help you with the asterisks, but nor can I help myself: I started watching all 11 seasons of M*A*S*H, and bringing back for you my viewing selections, chosen for The Qualities.

— — —

Hiiiiiii guuuyys. So something new has happened, here in the tenth season. Her name is Karen Hall. Who is Karen Hall? Well I've looked into this: a young writer Alan Alda met in a workshop he was teaching, was like, uh, you rock totally, pulls a Daniel Craig on James Bond, and gets M*A*S*H to hire her for last season's ‘Father’s Day’ (none for Margaret's dad with left beef). This season, she’s got four more scripts, and her name is on every episode as the series' new story editor. I kept thinking I was seeing “Karen Han” and going, well of course Karen would freak this, and the thing is that sentence is still right: Karen freaks this. Season 10!!!! My favorite season since Season 6?? Itself my favorite since Seasons 2-3??

And just one more (!) after this, oh my gOD....

M*A*S*H - Season 10 Recommended sequence

10x01-02 ’That’s Show Biz: Parts 1 and 2’ - A U.S.O. troupe gets stuck at the MASH for a couple days, and unlike all the other two-parters they’ve done, this one really uses the pace of having a full hour, seeding so many elliptical details and unexplained behaviors that they are in no hurry to answer just yet. It gives these two an intriguing depth. Also: former burlesque dancer played by GWEN VERDON. Aah-aah-aaaah!!

10x06 ‘Wheelers and Dealers’ - I’m including this one for two reasons. 1) Rizzo, whom I don’t believe I’ve featured yet, and when he’s in the pocket, boy does this raspy Bayou weirdo make me laugh. And 2), I *think* this is gonna prove the last big blow-out finale of BJ being such a jerk to everyone over his family, and we definitely should go out with the bang that is Margaret tearing into him with a perfect diatribe that’s been two seasons coming. Cathartic! And then this seemingly clears the way to shift gears, or change roads, whatever episode-apt vehicle metaphor you want, and set us now humming along the rest of this season with pretty much exactly the BJ I would have expected we’d have at this point when I was in Season 5 or 6: tall mid-tempo California-goofy sweetie who mostly does actually like other people, including his Army-issued boyfriend.

10x07 ‘Communication Breakdown’ - Like, to wit: very next episode, BJ’s slow adorable amazed grin to the mess ceiling at Charles showing his whole ass over the PA (foreshadowing) had me, confusingly, going: [Trapper voice] Hawkeye, I think I’m in love. It’s another Karen/Alan co-pro, baby, and Season 10 is now really kicking OFF.

10x10 ‘’Twas the Day After Christmas’ - Two visiting Englishmen straight out of WWI Britfluence Colonel Potter into adopting their topsy-turvy Boxing Day tradition of having the enlisted ranks swap roles with the officers, and oho, are they also All SO COLD about it, and oho are they doing [short shaky exhale] this:

10x10 you mean 10/10?

10x11 ‘Follies of the Living - Concerns of the Dead’ - The ‘Written & Directed By Alan Alda’ contribution this season is this Distant Voices, Still Lives ass title (affectionate) heading the episode where Klinger has a fever and is seeing ghosts. HIGH degree of difficulty on this one, my good friend, and for the first part I was like, maybe?, and then we get to the dead soldier hanging out with Margaret in Furious & Marvelous mode, and then the best drinking scene this show has ever done. The pitchest black wry comedy, mostly just gutting. Mostly just exquisite.

10x12 ‘The Birthday Girls’ - Outrageously boyfriends Hawkeye & BJ are trying to become cow fathers, while Margaret & Klinger finally get their mandated bond in adverse conditions outside of camp arc and are like, we have been waiting for your call. Riotous and sweet with an ass script that won’t quit, it's Karen Hall’s ‘The Birthday Girls’, [opening locket meme] my Beloved. ❤️

10x13 ‘Blood and Guts’ - The fact that the villain is a misleading writer is honestly so tasty for this show to do.

10x14 ‘A Holy Mess’ - A riveting turn that features a sort of semantic legal battle around religious sanctuary (COOL), but above all, this is an episode about eggs. Talking about eggs, thinking about eggs, the consuming drama of how the eggs will prepared....this is what I meant about riveting.

10x17 ‘Where There’s a Will, There’s a War’ - Sorry to end a second season list in a row with an aid station episode (and third season I've done this overall), but just, my GOD, take this—

Charles: “I hope you manage to stay beautiful until Pierce gets back to see you.” BJ, sudden quiet dread: “Back from where?”

and go, go!!!!

Season 1 • Season 2 • Season 3 • Season 4 • Season 5 • Season 6 • Season 7 • Season 8 • Season 9 • Season 10 • To be continued

#M*A*S*H hours

#M*A*S*H #M*A*S*H hours #viewguides #Tarra watches

[allow-me-to-ruin-that-for-you-2]

Infodump time!!

Ok SO I have been doing martial arts for more or less half a year. It's so much fun! But it's not the most commonly known kinds of martial arts, but a Brazilian kind of fight style called capoeira.

Capoeira was developed by enslaved African people in the sixteenth century. Brazil received almost half of all the African people shipped to the American continent. Because of that, most of our population is black ( around 52% if I'm not wrong. ) We also have way more mixed people than most other countries, according to Gilberto Freyre because "there was no oficial policy of extermination and segregation of black people" which is total bulshit! Brazil is still a very, very racist country, unfortunately. Our police officers are some of the most violent in the world and constantly murdering black people in communities in order to 'solve drug problems' and stuff like that.

Anyways, capoeira was invented as a form of resistance. It is not like most other fight styles because it mixes music, dance, and fight moves. It is like that because when it was invented, the enslaved people had to pretend they were dancing or celebrating. If the colonizers knew they were training, they would've broken it off and punished them.

Nevertheless, in Brazil we had things called Quilombos. Those were seld suficiente communities formed by black people who had scaped their farms, and many times they also had indigenous people and even free people who were poor and couldn't survive by themselves. The biggest of these communities was the Quilombo de Palmares, led by a guy called zumbi, and his partner Dandara ( both very brave people who fought until they could no longer and died for their cause. I find Dandara to be an especially strong person. ) Anyways, what matters to us here is that the Quilombo de Palmares was defended for more than a century, many times using capoeira. The colonizers had resources, firearms, armies. Still, they lost so many times they offered to compromise. You know what's that ? Entitled people compromising ? Well, half compromising. They said they would leave the quilombo alone if they stopped accepting new slaved people who had run off. Zombie wanted to take the deal, but Dandara refused. It was all of them, or none of them. He was killed by the colonizers and his body was hang up, and she ended up committing suicide in order to not be captured.

Anyways I LOVE capoeira. I have training 2 times a week, I have awesome friends there and the teachers are super helpful, every time we play one on one is super fun and the music is awesome and the traditional instruments are super duper cool!!! I'm always learning something new I just love it so much. I love clapping along the music until my hands hurt and falling and tripping when I try something bold, I love singing along, love knowing I'm improving, I love kicking and dodging until my whole body's sore. I love the community. I love capoeira.

Wow. It’s so cool that you took the time to learn the skill AND all of its rich and important history! What’s you favorite thing you’ve learned throughout the training?

#robin #ask #but actually #that’s so interesting #I didn’t know you were into martial arts this changes my gay everything

[thefandommessenger]

Intro plus headcannonory

hey guyssssss

so um

I think an actual intro post is in order, plus my brain is overflowing like a pool so get your cups and drink up guys it’s some noice info.

Hey! You all can call me Dragonfly, but I also go by Fandom or Cattail. Fandom might be confusing though so use at your own risk haha I don’t know what to put here. I noticed a few years ago that I have hyperfixations that switch every once in a while, and those are usually in the form of Fandoms! My current hyperfixation/fandom is Skibidi Toilet, I KNOW I KNOW DONT DOX ME.

I am majorly an artist, but I am also getting into writing, making songs/soundscapes, and screenwriting for movies. Why can’t I pick one interest damnit.

My preferred pronouns are It/Its but They is fine, my favorite color is yellow and if you want to be specific light desaturated gold, and I really hate spicy food.

Can you tell that I don’t know how to do intro posts yet?

Now the reason that I made this post, random headcannons from Skibidi Toilet! (Allience and ST)

I have a thought and an idea that in the beginning from their creation, Skibidi Toilets are purely machines in a non-literal more stereotypical sense. They are told what to do by higher ups and do it with no questions without any resistance. They are brain dead, their minds being physically restricted from functioning at their full capacity from being transformed into a Skibidi Toilet(Presuming that they were human before, or it’s a bran-new, pure ‘first generation’ Skibidi Toilet because I also headcannon that they reproduce asexually once they reach a certain size and if they have enough resources, and little Skibidi come out through the mouth). However, one Skibidi Toilet somehow unlocked their full potential by having a huge realization and more or less becoming conscious and self-aware. They realized that they didn’t have to follow rules, they didn’t have to be used as a mindless war machine. They unlocked their mental potential, and they begun to act more human. Said Skibidi began to try and push others towards the edge of realization, but quickly realized that the only way a Skibidi Toilet can ‘awake’ is by their own doubts and fears. But the push did help, and soon a whole bunch of Skibidi Toilets were aware of what they were doing. They begun to hate the war and the way their species acted not only to their enemy, but to their own soldiers. They in turn formed the SSF, or the ‘Secret Science Faction’ to act as an weapon to take down the main army from the inside. And who knows, they might even have their own projects to work on in the mean time :}

THATS NOT EVEN WHAT I WANTED TO SAY but the CONTEXT IS NECESSARY.

Alright so the Skibidi Toilets don’t have names in the army, so when they awake, sort if as an act of resistance and personal interests, they choose a name for themselves. And they always name themselves after objects. Like, the most random ass office supplies or playground toys that they can find. They boot up the internet or open a dictionary and flip to a random page, and say “ah, yes. Con-dom. A strong, fine name.” “i don’t think you know what that me-“ “SHSHSHSH. JUST CALL ME CONDOM. It’s perfect.”

Other examples include, but are not limited to(aka the ones I can think up in my head and the ones my Ocs have), Papercut, Card, Dildo, Sky-stitch(they also love to mash up words or make up new ones), Ball, Doorstopper, Keychain, and Garden Hose.

TLDR(don’t blame you); Skibidi Toilets are mindless minions untill they awake themselves with their own fears and become conscious. As an act of defiance, they name themselves after litterally any object ever. iPad, Advertisement, Pillow, etc. Litterally you think of it, they named themselves.

Thankyou for reading, sorry this is so long! Read you eventually :}

#skibidi toilet #skibidi toilet headcannons #skibidi toilet SSF #skibidi toilet SSF:M

[tybaltsjuliet]

What are disney moments that Wreck you? To this day hearing mulan's dad say "the greatest gift and honour is having you for daughter" brings me to my knees

GODS, YEAH. as an army brat with a complicated relationship with my own father, mulan and her dad mean a lot to me. not to mention ariel and triton, pocahontas and powhatan, mr. banks’s whole arc in mary poppins...

speaking of fathers, “remember who you are.” i can get through mufasa’s death fine, but that moment gets me full-on sobbing EVERY. TIME. bonus for the song “endless night” added for the musical.

thinking about the musical adaptations, the way they decided that the beast letting belle go was not devastating ENOUGH in the movie (it IS) and added “if i can’t love her.” “evermore” from the live-action remake does a number on me, too.

the whole “go the distance” sequence, but especially “i would go most anywhere to feel like i belong.” gets me right in the alien feelings.

“aloha ʻoe” in lilo & stitch always left me crying as a kid, and it’s only gotten harder to watch now that i’m older and have a better understanding of the absolute hell nani goes through.

more of a horror-induced Wrecking than the others on this list, but...everything about mother gothel. i was a sensitive kid and always had emotional reactions to disney movies, but i never expected to have to walk out on one during my first viewing because of how badly the villain triggered me... and then “mother knows best” happened. i love tangled, but i still have a hard time watching it because of that.

i think cars is underrated and that route 66/“our town” sequence is unbelievable. i just. i have a lot of feelings as a person from the U.S. south about the way rural small towns have gotten left behind and it hits hard.

it might make me basic, but anna and elsa’s relationship always gets me. the last verse of “do you want to build a snowman?” is devastating, and elsa is one of the disney heroines i relate to a lot, so her whole arc just puts me through the wringer. cinderella is another one - i see a lot of myself in her, and i cannot get through either her animated movie or the live-action remake without a lot of crying. happy, sad, and everything in between.

and, of course, because of who i am as a person, the whole opening sequence of the sword in the stone and seeing arthur retrieve the sword in the end.

oh! and this would not be complete, without my favorite meta disney story, about “feed the birds” from mary poppins. as robert sherman tells it:

on fridays, after work, [walt] would often invite us into his office and we’d talk about things that were going on at the studio. after a while, he’d wander to the north window, look out into the distance and just say, “play it.” and dick would wander over to the piano and play “feed the birds” for him. one time just as dick was almost finished, under his breath, i heard walt say, “yep. that’s what it’s all about.”

they played it at walt’s funeral, too.

#;ask me your questions and get some answers. #;dream factory.

[hawkepockets]

btw. matsendra surana is my first & favorite dao warden. he was born dalish, a dreamer whose magical talent showed only in rare bright flashes because he spent so much time day-Dreaming, half in the fade. when his cousin diti was chosen to be First, matsendra’s mother agreed to move with him to another clan that had no child mages. he was taken from her arms by templars on the road and brought to the circle, where his name was anglicized to “max” and he was told his birth clan had discarded him. (his memories were too clouded by the Fade to contradict this.) wynne took a shine to him and, worried that he was unusually susceptible to possession, restricted him to the study of theoretical magic, with no spellcasting permitted. over his 21 years in the circle he grew into a gentle, lazy, pleasure-seeking and theory-loving mage who never antagonized the templars and was loved by a lot of his peers, especially anders despite the two contrasting in almost every way. (anders likes people who remind him of cats.) when jowan enlisted his help in escaping the tower, max betrayed him to first enchanter irving in a second, but nevertheless ended up pinned between a rock (irving) and a hard place (knight commander greagoir) and conscripted to the wardens. in the subsequent investigation and stripping-down of max’s office (a former broom closet gifted to him by wynne), the templars found what max had kept hidden, for years, from everyone but anders—extensive, practical research into glyphs and written magic, building to a near perfect understanding of how to create spells using ink, vellum, and lyrium, (and a dreamer’s familiarity with the fade’s geometric structure) without ever breaking wynne’s ban against channeling magic himself. outside the tower max slowly and painfully developed from a spoiled circle centrist into a soft-spoken but terribly persuasive and powerful self-possessed elf mage. he made his research portable by drawing spells on playing cards at first, then by inking them directly onto his skin. he romanced morrigan, broke wynne’s heart with his loss of faith in the circle and alistair’s with his ruthless sparing of loghain, and his own when morrigan left. anders was both disturbed and delighted to recognize his drowsy old friend from the circle in the dark-eyed, tattooed commander of the grey. “max” had changed his politics, but never his love of research, tea, and comfort, or his ability to talk anders into almost anything with a slow blink of his eyes. anders thought they might rebuild some kind of life together in amaranthine, until matsendra, wrecked by distance from morrigan, unknowledge about their child, and silence from anora after her promise to free the circles from chantry control, after a whole life spent in what felt like an experiment to see how much a “good mage” could tolerate, suddenly broke from the wardens and stormed kinloch hold alone, raising a small army of spur-of-the-moment rebel mages and nearly succeeding in taking the tower before wynne, who he’d hoped against hope might change her mind this time, struck him down and held him down long enough for the templars to swarm him and commit the rite of tranquility. this was the incident that spurred anders to leave the wardens and sail for kirkwall. and matsendra stayed in the circle for another 10 years, laboring as a formari and aware only intellectually, with no heat of emotion behind it, of the injustice that had been done to him. until he looked up from his work to see that he and the other tranquil had been traded like coins to a tevinter magister who was killing them for their skulls. this was unsatisfactory, so he took the remaining formari into the redcliffe windmill tunnel he remembered from his youth, then followed rumors of anders and justice, all the way to the tranquility cure. after which there was a beloved witch of the wilds to find, and hell to pay for the chantry.

um.

if you even care.

#dao #long post #oc: max