I’ve learned to hate this but goddammit, this took so much of my time! So here. Have it. Enjoy. Sorry for the bad perspective and handwriting, I gave up.

Also, we all know that you really shouldn’t listen to Medics stories. And they definitely aren’t something you should get inspired by…..

a careless man's careful daughter

“Your father always smelled like smoke. Real or not real?”

Peeta’s question takes me by surprise. Because it interrupts the peaceful silence that’s settled between us, here at the house by the lake. Because we never talk about my father, or his father.

But now it’s in the open. This idea of him.

So I think back, to the man who raised me, and try to conjure a memory of his scent. It was so embedded in him, so much a part of him, that I have a hard time putting it into words. It was him.

“He came to the bakery a lot after dropping off squirrels for Mom. He’d put them by the fireplace. So… real, I guess. Probably real.”

Peeta nods, satisfied with the response. Then he lets out a long sigh as he stretches his legs - the good one, the artificial one - out in front of him and leans his head up toward the late summer sky, letting the sun warm his face. 

“You remember what he smelled like?”

He closes his eyes and a small smile plays on his lips. “I always paid attention when an Everdeen came by the bakery, Katniss.”

Of course he did.

I grasp a fistful of lush green grass, letting the blades slowly slide out of my hand and onto the ground, where they lie in a haphazard pattern. 

It took us hours to get here. Peeta moves slow, and I wasn’t in any rush. 

Amidst the busy day-in, day-out rebuilding efforts in town, I wanted to clear my head.

So, of course, I suggested my father’s old cabin.

Peeta’s seen every other part of me that’s mostly destroyed and almost forgotten. It just seems right for him to see this one, too.

“Real or not real?” He asks again a moment later. “You wore a blue skirt and white shirt to our first Reaping.”

I nod, amazed - always amazed, that even after everything he’s been through, his memory can still conjure up such impeccable details.

“Real,” I confirm. “Prim wore it, too. To her…” 

I can’t finish the sentence. And I don’t have to. Peeta looks over at me, his blue eyes alight an impossibly kind sympathy.

“I know,” he tells me. “That day, I was more relieved that it wasn’t you than that it wasn’t me. It was Jainey Broward.” 

“She died at the Cornucopia,” I supply. “So did her district partner, Kellen Thames.” 

I wonder if he remembers all the Reapings. All the kids that went up on that stage instead of us. All the kids who never had someone volunteer to take their place. 

Does he know their names still? Does he remember what they were wearing? Or has all that information - somehow both important and insignificant - gone by the wayside, in the scraps of the rest of his tracker-jacked broken memories?

I guess it doesn’t matter if he does or he doesn’t. Haymitch remembers. I remember.

And he remembers other things. More than I could have hoped for.

Besides, we’re making new memories now. Hands carrying bricks to create new foundation. The inexplicable laughter - a casualty of hearing Haymitch hollering drunkenly at the geese in his hard - that erupted over a dinner of squirrel stew. Kisses, long and desperate, as we tangle limbs and tentatively explore the curves and ridges of each other’s bodies underneath the cool bedsheets.

And us, sitting here, quiet and calm in the afternoon sun - so far away from the rest of the world, it feels, that it could disappear and I wouldn’t know or care.

There’s a comfort and a thrill that hit me all at once when I think about what we’re becoming. 

“You watched me a lot then,” I tell him. It’s his turn to play. 

“Real,” he says without hesitation. “I would have done more than watch, if I thought you would have given me the time of day.”

I smile at his words - because he was right then. If Peeta Mellark had tried to date me - if he’d approached me and so much as talked to me before the Reaping, I most likely would have run the other way.

“I wouldn’t have,” I admit. It’s something we can both check off in our mental lists now of things we know to be true. But that me - the Katniss that shunned any chance at a connection with Peeta Mellark - feels like a stranger now.

I want to tell him that. But I don’t know how. And then, he asks another question anyway. 

“Your father would have hated it, you ending up with some broken Merchant boy. The baker’s son. Real or not real?”

He’s trying to be playful. I can see it, as his lips twist into a wry smile. But there’s serious doubt embedded in his gaze - one he can’t hide.

I let myself consider a world - some alternate ending for us, where other kids’ names were always called on Reaping Day and I finally found the strength to look Peeta in the eye. I imagine him - young and healthy and robust - coming to our coal-dusted front door and asking my father if he could take me into town for the evening.

I don’t see an angry, disapproving man looking back at him. I see the smirk on my father’s face as he turns to make sure my mother is seeing this. I see her eyes widening in surprise as she puts it together. I see Peeta taking my arm, and me glancing back, as we walk toward the town square. My father, standing in the doorway, arms crossed lazily against his chest. He’s smiling.

That world wasn’t meant for us.

Maybe this one wasn’t either.

But I know that certain constants don’t change. Like memories, they can’t be rewritten - at least, not forever.

“Not real,” I tell Peeta emphatically, as I slide my hand into his and lock our fingers together.

And what I tell him next gets me closer to finding the words I’ve been unable to say for too long.

“He would have loved you.”


Inception Fic Recs: Pining (updated 11/23/14)

Is it wrong that I love to see my OTPs pining?  Is it really so wrong?  Especially if they have a happy ending?  Come on, you know you love it too.

Here’s a list of fics that push my pining!Arthur / pining!Eames buttons.  I thought about categorizing them by who’s pining, but decided not to because sometimes the author does something clever with the pov to do a slow reveal of the pining and I didn’t want to spoil it.

  • Simple Math, foxxcub.  The Fake Boyfriend High School AU.
  • Keep the Car Running, earlgreytea68.  GAH!  I LOVE LOVE LOVE this fic.  It’s also a crossover (InceptionLock) and though it is a WIP you should read it immediately.  Seriously.  Go.
  • In this part of the story, gunsandbutter.   Seven chapters, seven cities.  Chapter 6 (LA) has one of the best Arthur confronts Eames scenes.  Ever. 
  • Do you run (when it’s just getting good), VIII_XIII.  I really like the way this fic uses Eames’s pov to unpack the ways he and Arthur both surprise one another.  And me.  Neither this Arthur nor this Eames fit my usual head canons—but they absolutely work for me here and I found myself a bit desperate for them to get together and stay together.  Finally, I don’t think this is spoilers, but stop reading here if you want to be sure, the bit about what one of these characters applied for gave me all the feels.  
  • Lines That We’ll Draw, VIII_XIII.  ”There are two boxes full of letters in Eames’s desk drawer. The ones he receives from Arthur, and the ones he wishes he could send in reply.”  It’s epistolary and beautiful and GAH GO READ IT RIGHT NOW.
  • Life in Virtual Reality, cobweb_diamond.   Eames finds himself haunted by projections of Arthur. 
  • Underneath the Sheets (Killing Me), lolahardy.     When Arthur and Eames where young, they were best friends. Arthur made the mistake of falling for him but never said anything. By the time they reached high school, they were no longer friends. 
  • This is Why We Don’t Like Black Widow, shellhead.  Comic books, love triangles, and lots of pining.  I really loved this one.  
  • Trouble with Dreams, sparkledark.  “College AU in which Arthur is a cranky senior and Eames is a professor of Dream Psychology.”
  • In our line of work, enjambament.  “Arthur wakes up and realizes the last ten years of his life have been a dream. He is nineteen, and he can barely remember where he is. What he can remember is the ghost of Eames’ hands pressed down on his chest trying frantically to stop the blood flooding up around his fingers as Arthur died (as he woke up).”  This one just gutted me.  So beautifully written and incredibly moving and such a smart way to play with the possible implications of the passage of time in dreamsharing.
  • Pet, LadyVader.  Arthur’s a high school student: a runner and clever and a bit too independent for his own good.  Eames is the new English / drama teacher.  As the Police say, sometimes it’s not so easy to be the teacher’s pet.
  • You’re Impossible, averysubtleart.   “Or, the one where it’s a high school to college/university phase and falling in love happens with coffee.”
  • I am your prisoner (but don’t set me free), KayCeeCruz.   “He couldn’t take the chance. Especially not with someone like Eames. Someone that Arthur was pretty fucking sure was created to torture him because he was every single damn fucking thing Arthur had ever wanted.  But Arthur had learned that love – for him—never worked out.”  Canon compliant.  
  • Of all the lies I’ve ever told, duckgirlie.  M-preg.  “there are worse places to be, his mother tells him, then in love with the father of your unborn child. even if you haven’t told him yet. even if you’re not going to tell him, because he already didn’t love you back, and now he’ll hate you” 
  • I’ve Got Nothing To Do Today But Smile (The Only Living Boy in New York), gyzym.  It’s THE coffee-shop AU.  It’s got the highest kudo count in the Inception fandom on ao3.  And quite right too, in my opinion. Arthur’s a miserable lawyer, Eames is the barista across the street.  The first five paragraphs are a tour de force.  And the rest of the fic is delightful. 
  • One for the Money, whiskeyrunner.  Porn Industry oneshot. Is it wrong that I find this porn industry fic so sweet?
  • You Set the Scene, cherryvanilla.  Another porn industry AU.  (WHY ARE ALL THE PORN AUS SO SWEET?!  IS THAT A THING IN THIS FANDOM?! WHATEVER THE REASON, I LOVE IT.)
  • Rule Ten, skellerbvvt.  dom!Arthur / sub!Eames.  Also, underage!Eames (though the fic gets around that somewhat.)  Okay, so here’s the thing: this fic is written on LJ in the comments.  It’s about 193 comments long.  Plus there are over 4000 additional comments of people squeezing and writing fics on the fics (in alternate povs, looking toward the future, creating backstory, etc.), sometimes three or four tics deep in a single comment.  It’s crazy and wonderful and a pretty unique reading experience.  (Be warned: if you find it hard to ignore typos, this may not be the fic for you. But seriously consider giving it a go.  This is the fic that prompted EGT’s Lucky.)
  • Going to Get My Feet Wet (Until I Drown), sweetbutterbliss.   “He doesn’t see Arthur until he’s right in front of him, beaming. He’s dressed in jeans and a worn t-shirt, his curls tumbling into his face, and has a streak of dirt smeared across his forehead. Eames resists the urge to reach for his totem as Arthur pulls off a pair of red gardening gloves and shoves them into his back pocket, where they hang precariously. He grasps Eames’ shoulder with long fingers and kisses him. It’s not chaste or even filthy, more like something bred of familiarity. A bit of tongue, but mostly closed mouth. Eames’ hands are full and he’s too shocked not to participate.”

You can find more links and recs at my larger Inception: A Guide for Beginners post. 

amypueblopoehler asked:

olicity + oliver's baby photos. I bet he was a chubby baby haha

"Oh, my god," Felicity giggled as she flipped through the pages of the photo album in her lap, staring down at the photos as she sipped from her glass of sparkling cider. "Oliver was such a cute little chubby baby!" she cooed before looking up at those who were gathered around her.

"I know, right?" Thea replied with a smile. "I just found those while I was going through some old boxes we had in storage to see if I could find the old crib. I did find it, by the way, along with this." She handed Felicity a small shoe box.

Felicity opened it to reveal a well worn white teddy bear inside with pink and blue ribbons tied around it’s neck.

"That bear belong to both of us at one point and I wanted to pass it down to the little one," Thea said, a little hitch appearing in her voice as she spoke.

Felicity could see the significance behind the gesture and quickly (or as quickly as her eight-month-pregnant body would allow her to) got up to hug her sister-in-law.

The Calm Before the Storm

Carmilla’s eyes were fixed on the building before her. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t scared. She was terrified. Her mother was the only being that could make her feel petrified.

Laura was right. She was a coward. But decades later she still had nightmares; of the coffin, of Ell, of her mother, and now they were filled with Laura and a bright light.

She knew she was being reckless and stupid but Laura’s disappointed face was etched in her brain and the guilt was eating her up. She had to do something even if her own mind opposed it.

With a sigh, she balled up her fists and marched into the administration building.

She took the stairs to the basement, her movements were swift, her steps light. She could smell William from there. Going down the hall she reached the final door and opened it. Will sat on a wooden chair against the wall. Engrossed in a magazine, he did not notice her presence.

“Hello Willy boy.” She sneered.

Will looked up and grinned. He set the magazine down and stood up. “Well if it isn’t the prodigal daughter. Finally got your head together then?”

“You could say that.” She smirked and with vampiric speed she rushed at him and threw him against the wall. She watched as the other vampire landed on the floor and remained still.

Using her strength she opened the first of the five doors lining a wall. She untied the girl and removed the blindfold covering her eyes.

“Get out.” She growled at the girl who looked at her with fear in her eyes. The girl nodded frantically and scampered out.

She pushed the next door open and the girl was unconscious. She’d wait before getting her out. She went to the third, kicking it down and finally found him.

“Who’s there?” His voice was strong but there was a hint of fear in it. “Look this is totally not cool man.”

She removed the blindfold from his eyes and they widened in surprise.

“You, you’re one of them. You sold me to them.” He accused her.

She sighed in mild irritation. “I’m here to get you out aren’t I?” He looked at her with caution. “Besides, we warned you about Willy.” She took off the ropes holding him down.

“Thanks.” He muttered while rubbing his wrists.

“Don’t mention it. I mean it, really just don-” The words died in her throat as a she felt a piercing pain in her stomach. She looked down to see a piece of wood protruding. She gasped as she fell to her knees. She turned slightly to see her brother standing at the entrance.

“You didn’t think I’d let you go so easily.” Will smirked as he dusted off his hands. “I have to say mother will be very disappointed in-”

She barely caught sight of the door that was slammed against him and sent his body flinging towards the cell’s wall. He fell to the floor knocked out cold.

She turned to Kirsch, who dropped the door she had broken down. “Zeta’s protect and you are no longer my bro.” He glared at the unconscious vampire.

Carmilla struggled to get up. Any movement she made sent waves of pain throughout her body. Kirsch looked worried as he helped her up.

“Are you going to die?” He asked terrified, almost childlike.

Carmilla laughed at the question but stopped when she felt the pain surge. She was already dead and even in this body she had never felt alive, not since Ell but she was getting there with Laura.

“No,” she finally grunted, “but I am going to need a lot of blood after this.”

He stared at the growing red spot on her shirt. “Let’s go, I can carry you.”

She shook her head, “No, there’s a girl next door. Take her, I can walk.”

He nodded hesitantly bit did as told. She examined her wound and decided it was best not to remove the offending piece out. At least not yet or she would surely bleed out in this cell.

He came back with the girl thrown over his shoulder. They made it up the stairs slowly due to Carmilla’s lack of speed. When they exited the building Carmilla noted nightfall had set in which was good considering their situation.

She staggered being Kirsch as her muscles started to become stiff. Dread settled in at the thought she might not make it on time.

Kirsch glanced at Carmilla, worry etched on his face.

“I’m fine.” She growled.

“No you are not. Look I’ll drop her off with the Summer Society, just wait here and then I’ll come back for you. It’ll be much quicker this way.” He pleaded to her.

Carmilla hesitated but nodded. Truth be told, she did not have much energy left. She leaned against a building being mindful of her injury.

Kirsch took off sprinting across the campus leaving Carmilla to her thoughts. She watched as his body disappeared into the distance. She hoped this would get Laura to forgive her, she hoped she would get to see her face one last time, and that this time it would not be filled with disappointment.

But even if she did live tonight, she knew her days were counted, mother surely would never forgive such an act of betrayal. They’d come for her and they would come for her friends. But she would die again as long as she could keep them safe.

She watched as Kirsch appeared in the distance. He took one look at her, picked her up and took off. She closed her eyes and for the next few minutes she slept.

“Laura! Laura!” The sound of Kirsch screaming woke her up. They were outside of her dorm.

She heard some fumbling followed by the happy sound of Laura’s voice, “Kirsch!”

The door open and she watched as Laura’s smile fell. “Carmilla,” she murmured in disbelief, “wh-what happened?”

“Oh you know just the usual sibling rivalry.” She coughed out, failing at being snarky.

“She saved me.” Kirsch whispered.

Laura looked surprised and then sad. It wasn’t disappointment, Carmilla thought, but it wasn’t what she had hoped for either. She seemed to snap out of it, and moved. “Lay her down on the bed.”

She was brought into the room and placed on her side on the soft mattress.

“Carmilla!” She heard Perry shout. “What happened?”

“Calm down mother hen, it’s just a little splinter.” She managed to get out. She could only guess what state she was in by the shocked look on their faces.

Laura keeled down next to her bed. “How do I help you?”

“Get this out,” she ordered already knowing it was going to hurt like a bitch, “and then I’m going to need lots of blood.”

Laura looked conflicted as she placed her hands on the piece of wood. She shook her head and stood up, her hands trembling. “Kirsch I can’t…”

The boy nodded solemnly, he gripped the make-shift stake. “This is going to hurt.”

She released a shaky breath. “Do it.”

He pulled with force and it came out in one clean move. But Carmilla released a guttural scream. It felt like they had torn her insides.

“Oh dear there’s so much blood, I’m going for my first aid kit.” Perry stated and with a pale face ran out the room.

“I’ll go with you.” Kirsch followed her.

Laura stared at the gaping wound, tears rolled down her eyes.

“I’ll be okay cutie.” She said exhausted and Laura looked up. “But can you get me a drink.”

Laura nodded swiftly as she went to their mini fridge.

She looked at Laf, who was still tied and lying on Laura’s bed. The nonsensical girl said before closing her eyes, “The light, it will not be pleased.”

Carmilla sighed; she would worry about that stupid light later.

Laura came back and lifted Carmilla’s head so that she could drink. She took small sips until the cup was empty. She laid her head down and closed her eyes. She needed to rest and she did.

When she opened her eyes a later, her shirt was gone. She was in her bra and there were bandages around her midriff.

Laura was still kneeling next to her bed, holding her hand firmly and head resting on the mattress. She turned her head and saw that Perry and Laf were sleeping soundly on the other bed and Kirsch was snoring softly on the floor.

She sighed, she was still very weak and in much need of more blood. There’d be no way she could expect to face her mother in such a state.

“You stupid vampire.” Her eyes shifted towards Laura who was now awake. Her eyes were red and there was a fiery look in her eyes. “Why didn’t you ask for help?”

Carmilla just shrugged and winced slightly at the discomfort.

“This is all my fault.” Laura stated guiltily.

“Don’t blame yourself creampuff, you know how stubborn I can be.” She tried to console her.

She smiled but still looked ashamed. “I’m so sorry I should have never said those things.”

“No, you were right. I am a coward, I’m so afraid of mamam that I was willing to become an accomplice to many murders. I’m so sorry for lying to you.”

The words seem to have an effect on the young girl and she looked more relax. “Thank you for saving Kirsch and the rest of the girl’s.”

“Don’t thank me yet. When mother comes after us…” She trailed off somberly.

“We’ll find a way.” Laura looked hopeful.

“Is there more blood?” She asked not wanting to argue and sound like a pessimist.

“No with LaFontaine like this, we haven’t been able to get more.” Laura looked troubled.

“Oh.” Carmilla’s stomach dropped, with the injury, not eating properly and being next to Laura, it had all made her the hunger grow tenfold.

Laura looked concerned and then a smile covered her face. Carmilla instantly knew what she was going to say, it did not take a genius to know what she had come up with. “You could-”

“No.” She ground out before Laura could voice her plan.

“But-” She started again looking optimistic.

“No.” This time Carmilla added a glare.

“What are you so afraid of?” She asked curiously. “Look you’ve already done it before and if we are going to fight against your mother we need you to get better.”

Carmilla exhaled deeply knowing that Laura had a point but she was still afraid of becoming the monster everyone expected her to be. She was already half way there with all that she had done but she was trying to make amends. “What if I hurt you?”

“I trust you Carmilla.” Laura looked at her with what Carmilla could only describe as adoration. She pulled her hair back, revealing her neck.

Carmilla could smell the blood, it called out to her just like she could hear the girl’s heart pounding faster than normal. Laura’s blood, because it was warm and fresh, would heal her faster and she needed it if she was going to protect her. Carmilla swallowed and looked at Laura’s determined face.

Seeing the vampire’s resolve deteriorate, Laura moved closer, offering herself up. Carmilla felt her fangs come out. Pushing back her thoughts of insecurity she leaned forward and pierced the human’s skin.

Laura gasped, her body tensed momentarily and she placed her hands on the wounded girl’s shoulders to steady herself.

Carmilla felt the warm blood gush out and began to consume it. Her hands went around Laura’s waist as they both lay there awkwardly, Laura’s body half on and half off the bed.

After a minute Carmilla retracted her fangs and swiped her tongue over the area. She felt Laura shudder from above her. She lapped the remaining drops and sucked her neck gently. Placing one last kiss, she pulled back.

Laura released something between a sigh and a moan as Carmilla kissed her wound gently. Carmilla took one look at Laura’s dazed eyes and smirked as she licked her lips.

“That, that was different from the first time.” Laura stuttered.

“I was in a rush then.” Carmilla smirked, already feeling much better.

Laura looked intensely at Carmilla and then surprised her when she placed her lips on the vampire, a quick pressing of their lips.

“What was that?” Carmilla asked with a goofy smile on her face.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Laura whispered sincerely.

Carmilla smiled at her hoping to conceal the sadness. She knew that their time of joy was limited, that her mother could burst through the door at any moment. She could also send her minions. Either way a war was coming. But knowing that Laura and her friends were safe, it was a moment of peace.

For now, she would just enjoy the calm before the storm.