#cecelia fe

[gullcrest]

finished fe6! very challenging but still fun :D doodled some of my favs

[tremarctoss]

those great whites they have big teeth

warnings: future NSFW; not canon or epilogue compliant; mind the tag

notes: 7k+ words, no beta

ao3 // gif source

In his last attempts to stop quickly growing unrest, President Snow decides to listen to Plutarch Heavensbee and promote his very own star-crossed lowers.

I try to hurry up the steps of the Capitol Theatre but my handler - an elderly woman named Antonia wearing a wig in the colour of fresh lime - is stopping me all the time and asking to pose for photographs. Perhaps her ulterior motive was to blind me because my eyes need several seconds to come back to normal after flashes assault them.

- Rosamund! - a paparazzi calls my name and points a little higher to the steps on my right that a woman from Capitol was posing before.

- He wants you there. - Antonia says while pushing me up. - Perhaps look at them over your arm?

Perhaps not but I know I need to do as she says. I let her style the long dress train and my hair and try to give my widest smile to the people with the cameras. I hoped at first that the light pink dress chosen for me would be too boring here but people seem to love the bow on my back. Thankfully, just as I consider rolling back down the stairs the crowd goes wild. 

- Oh, it's Gloss and Enobaria. - Antonia sounds dreamy. - They look so beautiful together.

I take my chance and hike up my skirts and dart up the stairs before she can react. I tiptoe behind Caesar interviewing Cecelia about the Games. What does she think about the couple that won the Games? What about their fighting style? There is no way I want to answer those questions so I rush inside the theatre.

Dear god, this whole experience makes me dislike Plutarch even more. Why did I agree to work with him again?

- Excuse me, please excuse me. - I am not sure why I even bother. Most of the people don't move and I have to squeeze myself in to pass them making sure no one steps on my dress. 

I try to find someone I know, any familiar face just to not feel like a pig being led to the slaughter. 

- Excuse me, - I say and a man wearing glasses looks at me like I am an alien from another universe. - Beetee, right?

- Yes. Rosamund, am I correct? - He gives me his hand and I shake it. - I don't think I have seen you here since your games.

He sounds curious but not unkind. I feel hopeful for a moment before reminding myself that everyone can be an enemy here.

- Yeah, - I giggle nervously. - Listen, I know it's dumb and I don't want to bother you but I don't know anyone here so would you be so kind as to tell me what we are supposed to do here? I lost both my escort and people from my District somewhere. 

I don't tell him how hopeful I am that Antonia broke her neck. And there's no point in bothering either Roman or Lucius. They are probably doing coke somewhere.

- It's the first premiere ever so I truly don't know either. - his voice is kind again but I cannot stop myself from getting closer to him when I feel another hand on my body. I desperately want people to stop touching me.

- Yeah, do you mind if I stay with you? I tried following Blight up the stairs but I was too slow. Sorry if that's too much you don't need to…

- Hey, - he stops my spiral and grabs me by my arm. - Everything's fine, you are not bothering me. Just breathe, all right? I actually like having someone around too.

- Do you guys mind pretending to talk with me and going somewhere looking busy so I can get fucking drunk? - Haymitch, the most important person here probably, and one of the worst to hang around if you want to stay on Snow’s good side, puts his hand on Beetee’s hand that's on my arm.

I should want to stay on Snow’s good side but I don't care at the moment. I don’t think I ever cared after my father died. Plutarch wouldn’t be too happy with me I guess.

- Yes, please. - I say, fanning my face with my free hand. - Just give me a moment.

I force myself to stop breathing until my lungs hurt. The burning spreads to my face and my cheeks feel hot. Both men look at each other before taking me by the arms and leading me somewhere. There are dark spots in my vision and I must actually look terrible because the important-looking person who is supposed to be responsible for stopping us shows us a space to “take a break instead”.

It's a small space outside where people working at the theatre must be going to smoke a cigarette. There is an old red cup full of cigarette butts. There are also several bar-stools standing in a circle that we end up sitting on like teenagers plotting how to make our principal's life hell. Some kind of air conditioning machine loudly hums over our heads. I know because I have one at my Capitol-sponsored house back in my District. 

I cannot stop either the giggles that are leaving my mouth or the single tears that escape from each of my eyes. Carefully as not to destroy my make-up I wipe with a single finger under each eye.

- I always find it fascinating how you women do that. - Haymitch takes out a hip flask and points to my eyes before taking a huge sip, burps and I laugh nervously again. - Are you here just for the movie premiere?

- God, I wish. - I put my fingers under my eyes again. - Sorry, I think that whole not-breathing act did something to me. 

Why I cannot stop the tears?! It did not happen any other time I used this trick.

- I am here as damage control. I am supposed to meet my Capitol-approved partner. Apparently, they are also a Victor. - I look at Haymitch and some kind of disgust overtakes me. - I hope it’s not you!

The tears that follow are somehow bigger than the first ones. I use the end of my hair to wipe them off quickly.

- This is all stupid, I don't like this dress and don’t even get to have pockets! - I burst out crying now.

A chair fails and Haymitch stumbles out telling us to wait out. He comes back with someone and I recognize Cecelia immediately even through the tears. There are some kind of words exchanged and worried looks being sent my way. I pray for the air conditioning to fall on me and take me out.

- Head and hands up, inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth - Either Cecelia’s voice is like a balm for my soul or maybe it’s the fact that I did what she asked me to. She puts tissues under both of my eyes - Good, your makeup is waterproof. 

She dabs the tissues delicately to make sure there are no tears left and throws it away in the corner next to the mug. She sits on the stool in front of me.

- So you have no hints who’s the lucky guy? - she's not smiling.

- I don't have any idea. I forgot to ask. - I admit and am met with two groans and laughter. I think the last one is coming from Haymitch.

- We are forced to marry in my District by a certain age and I... - I admit and start cackling madly. - I took it as a chance to push that moment away a little I guess.

- None of your male Victors are married. - Beetee says.

- The laws only apply to women. - I don’t even hide how bitter I am about this.

- It will be someone from either one or two, - Cecelia sounds like she's trying to warn me.

- I doubt it. - Haymitch says. - the closest people in age to her are either not so popular or in relationships. Would look fishy or could turn into a PR disaster.

- But that leaves only Annie, Augustus, Finnick or Johanna. - Beetee says.

- Augustus is from Two. - Cecelia reminds him.

- Haymitch presses his lips together and looks at me like he is choosing his words very, very carefully.

- Can you run fast?

- What? - I ask and blink not understanding what he's hinting at. Maybe he's much more drunk or I am extra dumb right now. Anyway, the question makes me laugh. Everything makes me laugh today it seems.

- Finnick’s escort was getting attacked at least once per week by his rabid fans after they were photographed too close together. Effie told me someone even keyed her car. Twice.

- It may be Johanna or Augustus. - I say ignoring Cecelia’s previous comment.

- You don't want it to be them. - Haymitch tells me. - And Annie's, it’s the best for her not to be brought back here.

He looks genuinely sad for a moment, takes another sip and moves closer to me. Starts gesticulating with his hands. 

- It's gonna be Finnick for sure. You two are gonna be that picture-perfect couple everyone wants to be. A famous heartthrob coming back home to his crush he was hiding away from everyone. A romance growing away from prying eyes. A stunning and beautiful woman no one knows much about until you both are in a serious stage of your relationship. All the men will want a woman like that and all the women will try to look as appealing as you in hopes of getting someone like Finnick for themselves. And you know what? I am not sorry, in fact, I am very happy it's you.

Haymitch stands up and stumbles towards me. One of his hands ends up on my bare arm. 

- You may take attention from my victors and may help their families stay alive. I’m just sad for you that it’s Finnick that's your partner. But that won't keep me awake at night. 

A door opens and the man from before asks me if I am better. I get up from my chair very slowly making it look like I may still not be.

- You could at least pretend to be some kind of support. - I say bitterly to Haymitch and reach for Beetee when I stumble for real. 

Haymitch has the decency to look ashamed for maybe four seconds.

- I will do my best, I guess.

- What’s wrong with Finnick? - I ask when we step outside.

- Nothing. - says Beetee.

- He’s a peacock. - says Haymitch at the same time.

There's a huge group of people waiting outside the cinema hall. Cecelia helps me keep the end of my gown up when we join it so no one steps on it and I won't stumble or fall. Only now I am calm enough to watch the people here. Women are wearing mostly dresses with big sleeves and huge flower bands in their hair. It takes me a moment to realise that they are trying to copy Effie’s look from the reaping. Cecelia is wearing a simple yet elegant yellow gown that ends at her ankles. She has some bees sewn on her arms. My own gown looks somehow strange here, taking too much space. Plus it’s a little small in the breast area and I remind myself not to slouch and walk like Quasimodo.

Someone spots Haymitch with us and we are moved immediately inside. A person guiding us raves to us how amazing this new cinema hall is. The love seats are made from some kind of leather that got painted dark blue. There’s a tiny armrest in the middle of every loveseat that can be brought down. Between every love seat is a table with many buttons that allow you to call for various beverages - from water to wine and even vodka. Food is listed also: popcorn, pizza and chips.

There's no assigned seating so I point Blight to Cecelia when I see him and grab Beetee with my free hand. Haymitch ends next to Chaff behind us in the highest row. Mags is sitting next to Chaff on the other side. I wonder if we could move there instead but someone sits down there and she looks happy to see that man. I think he’s from 9 but I don’t remember.

- Not saving a seat for your boyfriend? - is the first thing out of Blight's mouth when I sit down next to him in a loveseat. 

- Hello to you too. - I say putting a smaller armchair down and ordering water for myself. - Why would I when I can put him in your lap?

The way he mocked me hurts me a little more than I would like to admit. And how does he know anyway? I turn away from him to Cecelia and Beetee who are talking about something called emdr therapy and gentle parenting.

- You have children? - I ask Beetee. I know Cecelia has three.

- No. - he looks a little sad. - But some of those approaches help when I work with Wiress.

I like it when people talk about things that they are passionate about and both Beetee and Cecelia try to cram as much information as they can in the short time to explain to me the psychological approach behind those ideas. Also how it can help adults with complex trauma. Blight starts hitting my knee with his own so I move my legs away, put my chin on my hand and lean closer to Cecelia. I ask them if there is a way I can get my hands on some of the information they learned about. They did not teach us anything like that at the secret school that is run by the rebels in our District.

Someone kicks my chair from behind. I ignore it and the kick happens again. I put the glass down and I send the worst look I can at Haymitch.

- Did you run out of people to annoy or are you trying to warn me that you are about to throw up on me? - I whisper in an angry tone.

He looks at me with one eyebrow raised and puts his hand on the armrest in between him and Blight. Why is Blight sitting there, anyway? A sudden realization hits me and my body turns cold. I straighten up and turn to my right to see who is there only to come face to face with smirking Finnick and snickering Johanna behind him.

God, his jaw alone looks stronger than my will to live.

- I can’t do this. - I whisper aloud and turn to Cecelia who is staring daggers at people sitting behind her but takes my hand.

My mind is blank for a whole minute trying to process the situation but the lights go out and the staff usher a few last people. Caesar walks on the stage and starts talking about the great event that is the first cinema premiere of the summary of Hunger Games. He has a glass of champagne in his hand and many people ask for drinks immediately. A choir from 12 is getting ready to sing before the movie. Their voices and the voices of people trying to sing along drunkenly become a white noise to me as I try as much as possible to ignore looks from the Victors around me and Finnick burning a hole in my face with his eyes. It seems only Cecelia is on my side and I clutch her hand as a lifeline.

I am going to murder Plutarch in his sleep. What was he even thinking? Did he slip that idea to Snow? Which one of them chose Finnick? No, forget it, why did I even agree to this anyway? Was my life really this bad back in 10? I was terribly lonely but I had food and a roof over my head. Why did I decide to change that? Was I that scared of being forced into marriage? How is this any different?

Haymitch is hitting my chair again and I close my eyes, take a deep breath and let go of Cecelia’s hand. I turn around to him. I act before I even think about what I am doing. I grab his foot with my hand and yank. Unfortunately, Cecelia yanks me too and I end back in my seat only with Haymitch’s shoe. No one seems to mind us as people are standing up to clap until the choir leaves. I throw the shoe in between me and Cecelia and kick it under the chair of the man from District 8 sitting in front of me. A foot in an old sock ends in between me and Cecelia when we are sitting down and I move my body away from it so fast I expect my back to hit an armchair strong enough to hurt. Instead, I collide with Finnick. His hand steadies me and I have no choice but to turn my face to him awkwardly.

- Sorry. - I say. He does not move his eyes from my face.

 I wish I could run through the deep forest green of his eyes.

- Are you? - he asks. He moves his legs a little and spreads his thighs. I cringe inside when my first reaction is to move mine away when we touch. Something arrogant fills the air. - I never saw someone turn me down so fast, I think my ego may be actually bruised for the first time. Perhaps you could give me a chance to change your mind?

And then he winks at me. I am genuinely humiliated with how the situation is turning out. 

Another kick from Haymitch and my head turns around so fast it may actually snap. He is making big eyes at me, drinks a whole glass of clear liquid that surely is not water and makes big eyes at me again. He looks like one of those huge white owls back home. Of course, if owls could get drunk. Blight is looking like he regrets changing his seat.

- Just ignore him, Snow’s not here so he will get drunk in no time.  - Finnick tells me.

He is watching me closely and his eyes move from my own to my mouth and back to my eyes again. He licks his lips and leans over my body to take my glass of water. Our bodies don’t touch but I can feel the heat of his body. He winks at me when he sits back.

- You should focus on me instead. - Finnick says and drinks from my glass watching me the whole time. I am sure his lips are touching it in a place where my lipstick is smeared. 

Someone groans behind us and I turn to see Blight with his face in his hand. Haymitch looks impressed and gives me a thumbs up. Cecelia nods at me gently. A strand of hair gets stuck on my face after I turn back around. Finnick moves it away before I even begin to lift my own hand. His left-hand ends casually on my thighs after.

The whole movie thing is a bizarre experience. People shout at the screen, scream obscenities and some jump up when the person they dislike ends up being shown during the interviews part of the movie. Some popcorn is getting thrown at the screen. The whole time Finnick’s hand is on my body, his fingers pressing into my skin from time to time.

I touch it when the bloodbath happens on the screen. It’s warm, his skin is soft and rough at the same time. He has some calluses on his fingers and I trace them with my nails back and forth for some time. I move onto his nails next and trace them too. Short and blunt. I touch every one of them slowly then move to the first one and trace every nail again. Then I trace every one of them two times and three and so on. 

It's dumb but it's everything I can do to not to think about what is happening around us. I hope it’s not annoying Finnick too much. Only when Peeta is covered in mud and mouths “Katniss” and some people laugh, I stop what I’m doing to Finnick’s hand. Instead I slide some bit further in my chair and move my knees into Finnick’s space. He brings his knee under both of mine and I suddenly feel very hot. There's a part inside my body that clenches when he moves his hand to my knees and squeezes the left. 

When Rue gets killed I start watching his hand instead of the screen and try to recognize all the things his smell brings to my mind. Salt like sea I guess, I’ve never seen it. Some vanilla I think. Like cakes and ice cream in summer. Freshly cut wood, not as strong as Blight or Beetee use but more airy kind. And there’s something flowery there too. I move my head a little to pretend to watch the movie more comfortably and inhale deeply. Jasmine, it’s a gift from god, they say. It may truly be when it comes to Finnick.

People holler when Cato runs through the bushes and Katniss with Peeta climb onto Cornutopia. I see Cecelia bringing her hands to her face from the corner of my eye. The noise coming from the speakers somehow numbs me and I am taken back in time to when I was in my games hearing the other last two people standing and killing each other. Finnick squeezes my knee and starts pressing his fingers into my skin from his smallest to his thumb. I look at him but he’s busy talking to Johanna.

I wonder how does it feel to be 14 and kill so many people. I wonder how does it feel to appear to not to be affected at all. I don’t think it’s part of his personality. Does he wake up every day and puts on a mask? Or how is it to be loved by so many people in the Capitol and worshipped by many others in the Districts. Even in my own one people look up to him.

I wonder if he looks down on me and sees me as a coward. If he despises me for being stuck with me.

I sit up straighter when the stint with blueberries happens and remove my legs from Finnick’s, moving them a little up and down in my shoes that feel too small after all. 

People whistle and clap when Katniss’ crying face shows in the hovercraft and we again stand up when the lights get turned on. The whole venue looks like something erupted there. The smell of alcohol is strong in the air and the floor is covered in food. So much waste.

Haymitch pushes me and almost topples over the chair while trying to get his shoe. It forces me to step into Finnick’s space and I hit his chest with my elbow.

- Sorry, - I say.

He does not look at me busy talking with Johanna who looks like she wants to rip someone's throat out. His arm wraps around me with his hand resting on my stomach and I freeze and tense my muscles there. It's not my favourite part to be touched. I wrap my hand around his to keep it place when he starts moving it down and move my ear around so I can over listen Finnick and Johanna arguing whenever she should leave or not. Are they dating? Am I a problem here?

- Hey, - Blight announces loudly - thirty minutes here and then we meet at the cars.

I try to follow Cecelia when she asks me but Finnick keeps me firmly in his wrap.

- Sorry, - I say but he is still talking with Johanna. I pinch his hand. - Unless your hand is going with me to the bathroom I suggest you let me go.

Johanna looks me up and down like she’s about to hit me with one of her hammers. Finnick squeezes my stomach again which makes me angry for some reason. He then slides his hand around my back and that makes me feel something very interesting inside.

Oh no, I am so fucked. I pick up my dress and without a word run after Cecelia.

----

- Where the fuck have you been? - Is literally the first thing out of Johanna’s mouth when we climb inside the limo. The door did not even close behind me. - Were the wardrobe changes that important?

- I got stuck in the loo. - Cecelia says taking out a mirror from her bag. She looks herself over there before answering. - It’s not my fault they did not get me out that fast. 

- I am glad she’s covering for me. Yes, she got stuck but on a purpose. She spent more than fifteen minutes there helping me to calm down and giving me tips on how to fake bing in love and all that. She did not laugh when I told her I never dated anyone. I don’t think I will be ever able to express properly to her how thankful I am. I wonder how does she know all of that but am afraid to ask.

She’s wearing another yellow dress. It slightly passes her knees and has those Effie-like sleeves. Surprisingly, the bright yellow looks good on her. I don’t see any other female Victors being able to rock such colour.

- Why are you allowed a bag? - I ask. - I don’t even have pockets again.

Someone else dressed me this time. My district’s stylist only chose pinks for me whenever we worked together. However, now I am dressed in a simple silver slip dress that ends in the middle of my calf with some blue tulle ruffles decorating around my breasts and at the bottoms of my dress. My shoes are the right size. Surprisingly, or maybe not really, I feel much freer in a dress that is not hugging my body tight and in shoes that don't pinch.

- And you could not text us? - Johanna’s voice is getting on my nerves. In fact, everything is. The number of people in the car, the fact that I don’t know where Finnick is and how I am supposed to make it work with him while keeping my feelings in check.

- I don’t have a phone. - I answer instead of Cecelia. - Kinda bold of you to assume I would like to have your number anyway when you act like that towards me.

- What the fuck! - She stands up.

She moves up and in my direction but the car turns and she ends on her seat again. She's sitting in the middle and Blight is holding her back so I think I have a chance to get to our next destination without actually having to defend myself.

- Can you girls leave it for some other time? - he says. - Let’s just let go for a night. 

- Legs together. - Cecelia reminds me when the car stops. 

It must have started raining outside shortly after we left. The flashes are covered by the umbrellas mostly. I use the weather as the reason to run inside. Surprisingly, the stilettos are good for that too. I wait for Cecelia around the door. Neither Haymitch or Beetee were in the car with us and I desperately want to avoid Johanna. 

I don't see Finnick for which I am glad this time. The truth is his presence is making me dizzy and ready to faint. Also - all my insecurities jump out when I am around him. It's like I think people see me as a charity case for him. I know I see myself as a charity case for sure.

I stick to Cecelia's side for the whole time and talk with some women. They talk about that new trend of a single huge flower on a hairband in their hair that Effie started. What flowers should I choose and what the meaning behind every one of them is. I just nod and add polite comments on the clothes they are wearing when I feel that I might have drunk a bit too much alcohol. A waiter comes with the drinks again and I take another flute of champagne but don't drink it. The laughter comes a little easier for me now and I notice our group becomes louder. It's surprisingly easy to fit in once you ignore that the world is swaying a little. The concern comes when I suddenly get afraid of what may come out of my mouth and want Cecelia or anyone to take my hand. The walls are closing on me and my stomach does this weird thing when it wants to get everything up.

- Thank you, - Finnick takes the flute from me and brings his arm around my middle. His hand rests on my side this time and he moves it up and down there.

He works our group like a shepherd dog herding animals. They listen to his every word for several minutes and wish us a great time when he says that our car is here. I am surprised at how quickly we leave. I catch some women raising their eyebrows when Finnick moves his hand down my back and starts leading me out.

He exchanges some pleasantries with a few people on our way and introduces them to me. A general, a doctor, a model and so on. I wonder what the driver is thinking about having to wait for us for so long.

As we near the door he takes his hand away from me and takes off his suit jacket and unbuttons two more buttons of his shirt. He wraps his jacket around me and presses me close to him.

- If the cameras are gonna blind you just focus on me.

My heart speeds up when they go off. It stopped raining but I can feel the cold air on my bare legs. Finnick’s broad frame is shielding me from most of the lights, his steps are sure and not even once he steps on my toes. He helps me get in the car. I can totally understand the grip he has on people. He gets in on the other side. 

- Do you want something to eat or just a drink?

- Some light dinner would be nice. - I still feel dizzy from the alcohol and I know I need to clear my head if we’re supposed to talk. I mean, we’re supposed to talk, right?

Finnick gives some weirdly -sounding name to the driver and the car turns around. I watch him in the car window. He is wearing a two-piece suit tonight. In dark blue. I have his jacket obviously and it feels very nice around my arms. Silk, I think. And a silk crispy white shirt I think too. I want to touch it and check for sure but I keep my hands close to me. 

One of the locks of his hair fell on his forehead. There's no way I could describe how he looks in one word alone. I once read an article saying he's like a Sun but I don't like the implication that I could end up being Mercury or Venus if I get too close to him. 

He’s typing furiously on his phone. I don’t see who. Is this Johanna? Is she jealous? I think they really may be together.

- Will I also get a phone? - I ask him. 

He stops writing and looks up at me surprised. He catches my eyes watching him in the window and I turn around embarrassed. It's even worse when I look at him now. His eyes have the colour of the summer forest at the golden hour. His skin radiates the warmth of that sun too.

- You don’t have one?

- I don’t even have a bag. - I answer. - Or pockets in my dress, I don’t understand why. I don’t know where I am staying. Do you think you could contact my escort for me? 

- No one told you? - he asks me, staring all the time at my face. His expression is carefully guarded and I cannot read anything on his face.

- No one told me about what?

- That you are living with me.

----

Finnick is in his sheepdog mode again. The one, where he has to catch the lost animal before it accidentally rolls down the hill to its death. He is in front of the car door before I even get my first foot out, his hand steadying me and his arm around my body guiding me to the restaurant and then inside. His eyes are on me all the time, the dark green following my every move when I sit down, when I open the menu, when I write my order down.

I cannot blame him. It was me who almost opened the car door after all when we were speeding through the city because I wanted to get out.

I try my best to collect myself and I look around the restaurant. First is the ceiling, covered with fresh flowers hanging upside down. The only ones I know are peonies, dahlias and hydrangeas. All of them bloom around city hall back home. They are mostly pink, red and white here, I think. It’s hard to tell in this light. Ivy wraps itself around walls and pillars. I look behind me and some of its vines are hanging in the windows. There are also forget-me-nots growing where a window sill is supposed to be. When I inspect them closer I can see they are, surprisingly, pink and violet. We have only blue back home.

Home, how I long for it now. The city I saw only three times in my life feels even more foreign now and the emptiness I have inside me threatens to swallow me whole. I realize I am hunching my shoulders and clutching at a lapel of Finnick’s suit jacket that’s still around my shoulders. I straighten up and put my hands in my lap. I look at the people to my right and left, making sure not to stop my eyes at the man sitting in front of me. 

There are only tables for two people everywhere but I see some same sex couples. It’s very frowned upon at 10. I am not sure if other Districts allow those kinds of relationships. I know people were sentenced to lynching in 13 for that. I learned about it at the secret school my dad enrolled me in when I was a teenager.

The thoughts of my home taste bitter when I look at the splendour and resources wasted here. 

I think tables like the one we’re sitting at are kind of special for the people here. We’re sitting far away from the entrance but even from here I can see colorful people at the door pointing at the same tables as ours and starting arguments with the staff. I sit in some sort of huge armchair that seems to come straight out of the wall under the window while the ones on Finnick’s side are club chairs I think. There’s a television program that focuses on home furnishing. I always found them irritating. It’s one of Capitol’s ways of letting us know about the things we will never be able to afford.

I watch the couples sitting around us. Many of them are bored or fighting which takes me by surprise. I thought people here could choose their partners, why bother being with someone you don’t like? Then I remind myself what Finnick and I must look like to other people. I’ve been avoiding his eyes for the past few minutes while he - well, I don’t know what he has been doing. I take a look at him and he is watching me over a glass of wine with a curious look on his face. Where did he get wine anyway? 

- You want some? - he must have noticed what I was looking at.

- I think we both can agree it’s not the best idea when it comes to me.

I put my right forearm on the table, hand up trying to copy the couple three tables to my left. They look like they are in love and I think this is the way we should carry around each other if we want to sell the whole thing. Finnick puts his left hand over mine and presses two of his fingers over my pulse point.

-Yeah, - he says like he’s trying very hard not to laugh. - I kinda got the vibe even before you pulled the handle, honey.

The pet names have to stop. I am going to melt and be a wet stain on the floor if they won’t.

- Sorry, - I say, ashamed. - I just really don’t know anything and ummm…. - my words fail me. - I don’t know you? And I just…

Finnick looks like he’s angry for a moment. I cannot help but blame myself for it. He must hate that he is forced to spend my time with me while I act like a damsel that needs saving all the time.

- No harm will come to you from my hand. - Finnick says. There’s something dark in his look still but he moves his hand from my pulse and starts playing with my fingers instead.

- So you like pockets? - he asks casually and the atmosphere becomes much lighter.

- I adore them. I mean dresses with pockets. - I correct and laugh. - And pigs. And I like to think that Antonia’s hair looks like a long-haired sheep that ran to the stage when my name got pulled out.

Our dinner arrives and the waiter talks about the courses we will eat. All of them are District-12 inspired but the plates are very small. I doubt it’s because the restaurant wanted to show the hardship people there have to face. I just ordered dumplings with goat meat but the table is covered with dishes that I guess are all for Finnick but he surprises me by putting some things on my plate all the time. I let him talk about his life here. He spends every two weeks in the Capitol and comes back to his District for two weeks. 

I wonder if I will be able to travel there with him. I need to find a way to make sure Plutarch sends me there too, I’ve never seen the sea. I’m sure he’s going to agree if I play my part well enough. If not then I can say I have to double-check there to make sure we can trust Finnick. 

- A penny for your thoughts? - Finnick says when he notices me smiling at the mental image of myself asking Plutarch if he can stop his serious shenanigans because I really want to see the sea.

- This whole experience is much nicer than Haymitch warned me. - I decide to tell him instead.

- You should be really careful about what he tells you. - Finnick says and slides almost the whole plate with katniss towards me. - He’s a very intelligent person but the alcohol has a strong grip on him and he loses himself more often than he would like to admit. 

We finish our food and the empty plates are taken away. I watch as the couple I copied earlier stands up to leave. I try to remember their movements.

- Seeing something or someone you like? - Finnick asks and there’s this playful tone in his voice that I’ve heard so many times on the tv when he was about to make everyone swoon. - because I’m sure I can do better than whoever you believe you want now, sweetheart.

.I know my eyes turn big and round but the kind of face I’ve made at Finnick sends him laughing so loudly that some of the people start looking much more openly at us.

- Sorry, - he says, sounding anything but. - It’s just that your face is terribly expressive. 

The waiter sets some kind of fancy drink in front of me in a high glass shaped like a flower with four petals. The liquid is dark violet and it’s covered with a white foam and some pink hydrangea flowers. I bring it slowly to my lips so as not to spill it. It tastes divine, not too sweet and has nothing bitter in it. I moan when it slides down my throat.

- There’s alcohol here. - I tell Finnick when I set it down. I almost drank the whole thing at once before I realized.

- I thought it couldn’t be that bad to let you have something small.

He has this amused look on his face. Like he is ready to pounce on me and drag me back if I stray too far away. 

The waiter comes with some kind of a delicacy he puts in the middle on the table and puts two forks down. It’s round and dark blue with some sort of white cream inside. It’s sprinkled with something gold and shiny but bigger than glitter. A tiny crown sits on top of it.

- It’s our special dessert reserved only for our truly extraordinary guests. Inspired by the first couple to ever win Hunger Games. Blueberry macaroon with goat milk cream filling that represents an image of true love in unprecedented and hardest times.

I push my fork into it hoping it will shut him up. It’s extremely sweet, while the games tasted like pain and blood even to me. Broken friendships and nightmares. Vomit and urine and shit on the bed after. Hands I never wanted on my body touching me when I could not fight. People mocking me that at least thanks to Games I lost those kilos that were too heavy on me.

Finnick taps my ankle with his shoe when the waiter asks me what I think about it. He sends me a look over another glass of wine. I think it’s a warning to be nice.

- I think it mixes too much with the drink I just had but I like how light it is. It fits well with everything we ate. However, - I put the last pieces with the crown carefully on the fork and bring them towards Finnick. - I believe a true connoisseur should be the final judge.

Silence falls around us, I can see people sitting at the table behind Finnick actually put their forks down to watch what’s happening at our table. As for the man himself, he takes my shaky palm in his steady one and slowly wraps his mouth around the fork in my hand. I can hear people inhale when he moans.

-Delicious, - he says. - tastes almost as good as my beloved.

The waiter is blushing as I must be for sure. Finnick stands up and suddenly we’re leaving. His arm is around me again and only now do I notice how respectful he has been acting the whole night. His hand never wanders too low, he stopped touching my stomach, monitored my alcohol intake and had my hands in his in the car when I was terrified. He leads me around the room making sure I don’t trip accidentally on any steps. 

He does not bring up the fact I almost gave up on the whole act in the cinema. After the first wave of panic left me I realized he may have things at stake that do not allow him to walk away as easily.

I want to thank him somehow and play my part better now. I hope to mimic the couple I saw earlier and when we step outside and the first flash goes off I hope my finger around one of his belt loops to slow him a little. He turns around with one of his eyebrows raised and I kiss him quickly in the space under his chin and close to his ear. Someone shouts and Finnick kisses the corner of my mouth. 

- Yeah, no more alcohol for you. - he says laughing and leads me to the car.

Jasmine, I realize, is definitely a fragrance for gods.

Actions

[aliypop]

Any Day Now: Chapter 5

Word Count: 2,509

Writers Note: I lost steam on the Tupelo fic, but this one is coming out better!

Warning: Language, death

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

Las Vegas 1970

"Don't see why you're sorry, sugar. You didn't lose the greatest Blues singer as a daddy," She giggled a little as she began to cry, 

"Want me to leave the bottle?"

"Please..." Cecelia said. The more she drank the whiskey, the better she felt. She was giggling and flirty and forgetting her troubles, but deep down in her drunken state, she was still sad, angry even at herself. She started with half of the bottle, slurring her words, and her accent was thick, "Y-You, You know whaddya thank of Elvis?" Cecelia asked, "I Thanl he's a swell fella, and-and I-I-I says to him I love you Mr. Presly!" Her hand swaggering on as she talked, the patrons at the bar nodded along, lucky enough to be in her presence. After a minute, Cecelia was down to the bottom of the bottle. She was falling out of chairs and stumbling falling out of fe m "Ya knowww my daddy dieeeed, that's right he did, a-a-an I wasn't there 'hen 'e died," She laughed, "Some 'aughter I am 'ight?" she could feel her heart beating 

fast and the room spinning. Her breathing was getting faster, and she felt lethargic. "A.. An... Anor... Bott.." Cecelia dropped to the floor, bottle in her hand. That was all she could remember. Elvis was pacing in the hotel room. No one had seen her since she walked out, and she could have been anywhere, but he didn't want to think the worst. He then remembered that Cecelia told him back in the 60s. She was battling depression and thoughts, and now he was terrified.

 "I couldn't find her son." Vernon groaned,

"Shit..." Elvis began to shake. His anxiety was kicking in, and it had been an hour now.

"Where the hell is she!" Denise sighed, 

KNOCK

              KNOCK

KNOCK

Vernon opened the door as Jerry stood there. He was silent til Elvis pushed past his dad. Jerry held Cecelia as he looked at Elvis, "Keep an eye on her. She's had a lot." Placing her on the bathroom floor for when she woke up, "Jerry, where was she." 

"At the bar where she."

BLAGH!" 

"Drank an entire bottle of whiskey," Jerry said. Elvis ran to the bathroom as he heard her throwing up her guts. Cecelia was clinging to the toilet as Elvis was holding her hair back, "I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." she kept saying in between her throwing up, "Shush, it's okay, I'm here," 

"I don't ever want to ACK! Drink again," Cecelia shuttered. She felt sick to her stomach, and the room was spinning. She couldn't get up much, and she felt ashamed and weak.

"Need me to get Doctor Nick?" Vernon asked, 

"No, she just needs a cold rag and rest," Jerry said as Denise stood there with gritted teeth. Elvis had undressed her and put on her pajamas. 

"Elvis..." Her eyes were closed,

"Let's get you to bed," 

The morning after, Cecelia felt her head pounding as she was in the bathroom again. She almost felt pregnant, but worse, 

BLEGH!

"Honey, are you okay?" Elvis asked,

"I feel like shit... What happened?"

"Well, you got drunk last night." Elvis mentioned as Cecelia looked horrified, "I don't... I didn't..." Elvis kissed her hand, "I didn't sleep much. You were talkin in your sleep about your daddy," When he mentioned him, Elvis could see the tears in her eyes. 

"Come here, come here." He wrapped his arms around her as she took his morning scent, "Is he really gone..." Cecelia asked, 

"I'm afraid so," Elvis said as she curled into him. He remembered how he was when Gladys passed. Elvis wouldn't eat. Talk, he'd cry, and Cecelia was there for him the entire time, holding his hand and letting him cry in her chest. Now it was his turn, "I don't think I can go to his funeral. I-"

"How dare you be so irresponsible," Denise said, walking into the hotel room. Cecelia looked at Denise. It was as if she were a little girl again, "Mommy..." she reached out as Denise turned her back to her, 

"Look at you drunk like your..."

"Denise, don't you dare..." Elvis glanced at her,

"Father, you'll kill yourself just like him!" Denise said. Elvis wasn't happy when she said that. He knew Denise was grieving her husband, but this wasn't the right way to go about it. 

"Already sing blues just like him!"

"HEY! Cecelia is havin a hard time too. Give her a little slack instead of being on her ass so much!" Elvis said,

"She's gotta be strong, Elvis. Her mistakes can cost our label..." 

"She's human, she'll make mistakes," Elvis sighed,

"STOP TALKIN ABOUT ME LIKE I'M NOT HERE!" Cecelia sobbed as he hugged her tightly, 

"CECELIA!"

"NO, Mama, you can sit on your high horse, or you can feel for at least one damn minute, but you will not tell me how to feel!" Cecelia cried, 

"Don't you talk to me like that!" Denise grabbed her face. She looked into her daughter's eyes as she saw Alfonso in them. Denise laughed, "If you'll excuse me a bit..." 

Denise walked out as she cried. Midge saw her, 

"Finally grieving Mrs. D,"

"I lost my husband, my best friend, my manager, my business partner." Denise cried, "Almost lost my daughter."

"What did Cece do..."

"Nearly drink herself to death..."

Valmos Manor Nashville 1970

"Come here, babies," Ruby said as she held onto the twins. They were still traumatized a little from the hospital, but with Eleanor and Ruby, they'd be okay, "I don't know what I'd do if I lost my mama or papa." Elaine sniffled. Eleanor had Elaine on her lap as she smiled, "Well, don't think about it too much. Think about..." Ruby looked at Jessie as he was playing with,

 "Oh my God, Denise still kept that Elvis doll." Ruby laughed as Eleanor laughed, 

"A what?" Jessie looked up as Elaine went to hold it, 

"So, back before you two were born and your mama and daddy were sneakin around dating, I bought your mama this doll in 1957." 

"It was the ugliest thing I've ever seen." Eleanor smiled as Jessie and Elaine laughed, "But Ruby thought it would bring comfort."

"Did it?" Elaine asked,

"Your mama loved that ugly ole thang." Eleanor chuckled,

"I think it's handsome." Elaine hugged it tight. "I wish they were back. I miss them." Jessie said as Elaine nodded in agreement. Jessie then walked to the fireplace as he saw a picture. It was in black and white, and it was Cecelia and Elvis at the Lousiana Hayride in 1955. 

"Papa looks funny!"

"I think he looked handsome," Ruby smiled,

"Let me see!" Elaine smiled, looking, "They look like they had a crush on each other," 

"They might have, but I tell you, I liked that look better than the sideburns," Eleanor mumbled,

"What about my sideburns?" Elaine and Jessie froze, running to the door and hugging their daddy as he kissed their foreheads, "See, you found that ugly behind doll." He joked, 

"Elaine loves it," Ruby laughed,

"Just like her mama,"

Cecelia walked in as the kids ran and hugged her. There was an odd shift of wind in the house. Cecelia couldn't look at the pictures or awards. 

 "Mama!!!!"

"My babies," She hugged them both. "Laine, J, are you two okay?" She asked as they nodded, 

"Grandpa's not coming back, is he..." Jessie asked,

"I don't think so..." Cecelia tried to hold it together,

"Okay, Ruby, Eleanor, we need to view the body..." Denise said, "And then I need to figure out who's taking over his half of Paradise and his funeral plot in North Carolina." Denise smiled, Midge, Elvis, and Cecelia looked at each other, 

"Well, don't stand there! Let's go!

"Cecelia..." Ruby said, 

"I'll stay with the kids," Cecelia smiled, "Maybe stop by the studio."

"I'll stay with you." Elvis smiled, taking her hand and kissing it. As everyone left, Cecelia stood on the steps thinking of memories, but one stood out the most.

1957

Cecelia put on her red heels and went downstairs. "Mornin Daddy," she kissed his cheek, "Morning, Mother," she hugged her as Denise looked at her, 

"That dress and the red lipstick..."

"I can take it off if you'd like ..."

"No, keep it. If you want to look like a woman of the night." 

"I was going based on my album for the interview," she mumbled, putting the plate of food on the table, 

"Where did Mr. and Mrs. Presley go?"

"They went to the store. They'll be back." Alfonso said as he looked at Denise, smiling at her, 

"Speaking of Presley's your uh friend Elvis, how's he doing?"

"He's still asleep. He doesn't get much of it with Tom Parker around." she smiled.

"I see, but damn can he eat!" Alfonso responded, laughing a bit.

Soon after, all the camera crew had set up shop in their living room. Cecelia was sitting next to the tree as her parents were on the couch, snuggled nice and cozy, and talking about their cover of Baby It's Cold Outside. 

"We've been married for so long. That the chemistry is still there." Denise smiled. Cecelia couldn't tell if it was genuine or not.

"Is it true you two are separated?"

"Separated from this ol girl, never!" Alfonso smiled as he kissed Denise's hand, and she slowly glared at him. Cecelia sighed, hoping maybe someone would acknowledge her existence.

"Cecelia, tell us about your Christmas album! Not only do you have Little Richard. And a duet with BB King, but Elvis Presley! On Jingle Bell Rock, how did you manage that?

"Well, you know Aaron Pres and I. We go way back to the Hayride days. We got noticed at the same time. We're great friends really and...." The stairs creaked as the attention turned to Elvis, who was rubbing his eyes still from sleep as he was halfway dressed, 

"Hey Nel, is breakfast ready..." he paused as he slowly went back upstairs, Cecelia chuckling as her parents were fuming in anger, 

"Like I said, we go way back."

1970

"Is Mama okay?" Jessie asked as Elvis nodded, "She's thinking about something." He smiled, ruffling up his hair, "Like what?"

"Memories." He smiled, " A lot of memories happened in this house," Cecelia grinned as she stepped on the creaking step. Elvis shuddered as he remembered the many times he'd stepped on it. "EL! MY ROOM IS STILL THE SAME!" She giggled. He ushered the kids upstairs. As they went inside her bedroom, "It's so pink..." Jessie laughed as Elaine flopped on the bed, "Who's that?" Elaine pointed to a poster, "Uncle Dean and Uncle Frank." Cecelia had smiled as Elvis playfully rolled his eyes at how she swooned out their names, 

"And who's that with all the lipstick on him," Jessie asked as Cecelia turned red, 

"That's uh..." 

"That's Daddy!" Elaine smiled, "But why kiss that when you had the real thing?"

"Well... You'll understand when you're older." Cecelia smiled, 

"You too, Jessie," Elvis said. The two then laughed and scrambled off as Elvis closed the door. He leaned against it as Cecelia smiled, "I feel like I'm twenty again." sitting on her bed, "Why twenty?" Elvis asked out of curiosity, and then it hit him, "Oh, twenty..." he smirked as she blushed harder, "Finally understood what you meant about good rockin'." She smirked, 

"Now we can't stop rocking," He walked to her, kissed her, and pulled her close,

"CECELIA, ELVIS, KIDS, WE'RE BACK!" Midge shouted as they ran downstairs. Denise glanced at Cecelia and Elvis as she sniffed her daughter, 

"You smell like Elvis..."

"Thank you," Cecelia blushed,

"Wasn't a compliment." 

North Carolina 1970

"El, thank you for being here," Cecelia sighed. They were at the repass of Alfonso. Her family was there, his friends, and of course Elvis, "Baby, this is just as much my family too." he kissed her hand as she smiled. Walking by was Irene, the cousin Cecelia loathed, "Sorry for your loss," her nose in the air as Cecelia wanted to chop her in half, 

"See, you bought Elvis." she laughed,

"That's what you do when you're married to the man who's the father of your kids, Irene." Elvis glanced at her as she walked away. Cecelia chuckled. The twins were playing with their cousins and walking up toward Elvis, 

"BB," Both Cecelia and Elvis said, smiling a little,

"If it and Mr. and Mrs. EP," He hugged them both, "Sorry 'bout ya pops." He hugged her, 

"Thank you. I know he would've loved to have seen you again." She smiled, "He will. Someday honey, say you make this sweet potato pie."

"I made 99% of that plate. My mama was too distraught to cook." Cecelia laughed as Elvis was eating, too, 

"EP, you better cherish this woman. They ain't makin 'em like her." 

"Believe me, I know," He kissed her forehead. Denise watched in the corner as she smiled. This was family to her, supportive even on the bad times like this,

 "AYE Cousin Crudup made it!"Cecelia gasped, running to him. Arthur Crudup and Alfonso were best friends. He was like a big brother to her daddy. And to Elvis, a big inspiration, 

"Cece, you didn't tell me you were related to Big Boy Crudup..." 

"He's like an Uncle to me." She smiled, 

"Mr. Presley,"

"Sir." He shook his hand, "I'm a huge fan..."

"I know, little bit here told me, all them years ago." He smiled. As he sat down, "You know I ain't never seen my song get dat big til you did it." He laughed, "Course me an Alfonso wrote it half drunk," he then hugged Cecelia as she hugged him back,

 "Be strong," 

A few hours later, everyone was singing. Denise, Eleanor, and Ruby were by the piano singing gospel songs. And then Elvis joined in. Cecelia had come with her daddy's guitar, and she strummed it as she shed a small tear. 

"In honor of my daddy." Cecelia smiled as she began to sing That's Alright. Elvis looked over at her as Denise laughed, a few through tears. Cecelia was so much of her and her father, so in a way, his legacy never died.

"This song here is one that I cherish. I remember being eleven and hearing it, knowing my daddy had something to do with it, que 1954, and I'm listenin to some guy sing it," Cecelia laughed, looking at Elvis, "Y'all know him as Elvis. I know him as my best friend and my husband and the guy who eats my fries." She laughed. Elvis kissed her cheeks.

As everyone left, Cecelia, Elvis, and the kids were packed into the car as they drove to where they'd be staying for the night. It was a white house with a porch swing on a big piece of land, a bit bigger than Elvis's house in Tupelo, "What's this place, mama?" Jessie asked as Cecelia got out of the car and cried, 

"Home..."

[newvegascowboy]

The last time he had seen her, she had been a child - in body, if not in mind. She wasn't special in that regard. Cato had never had much of a childhood either, with weapons pressed into his hands by the time he was old enough to hold them and bruises on his knuckles as soon as he could make a fist. Santa Fe offered no quarter, and they had all seen and done things that stripped their childhoods away from them before they had ever truly been possessed. Cecelia had been eight, or thereabouts, when she'd come to the city in chains. He doesn't remember it, of course, but he's seen other children. Fine boned, with eyes too big and wearing bruises from a poorly fitted collar. Before that, Cato doesn't know. He knows enough that he doesn't want to think too hard about it. She'd been fourteen when she and Jack had finally slipped the noose and escaped into the desert. Cato himself had caught Jack - no one had ever caught Cecelia. He has many years of practice averting his gaze from the young women that populate the camp. They, too, learn quickly how not to be looked at. Sitting in a shaded corner, chapped fingers mending tunics and armor, or boiling bandages, seen and not heard as not to draw unwanted attention. Phoenix hadn't been good - outspoken, uncowed women like Renee were an anomaly - but here, on Fortification Hill, it's hard for Cato to look away. He tries to help sometimes, slipping them rations or bandages or little packets of healing powder to be scrubbed into cuts. Enough help that they know to slip into his tent or his eyrie to hide, that he'll help if they ask, but look at them? No. Never look. Not enough to draw attention. It hadn't been as bad in Santa Fe. The women talked. Laughed, even. Maybe not well treated, but it could have been worse. Cato regrets that his idea of morality had been chipped away into ‘bad’ and ‘not as bad’ before he'd even had a chance to learn what bad meant. Everything is skewed too far to the right. His world view sits uncomfortably, teetering between the kind of discomfort he can ignore and the kind that drives a man insane. Like a bone that had set wrong, he had grown used to walking with an uneven limp, and now flinches away from the pain of rebreaking and setting it correctly.  If Cecelia's upbringing in the Legion had affected her once, it doesn't now. She stares at him, hard eyed, eyes glinting like those of the cougars that prowl the wastes around Phoenix, ready to shred a man between tooth and claw. Her hair is wild, barely tamed by the black hat clamped over her head and cutting a long shadow across her face. The wind grabs any strands not encased in her loose braid, pulling it into a snarl across her face, glinting like threads of bronze under the sun. She stands like a wild cat too, posture easy and loose, hiding danger beneath the billowing folds of a poncho. There's a rifle at her side - not pointed at him, but it could be, and Cecelia makes it known as she grips the stock. “Cato. Long time no see.” Her voice is the same easy drawl as Red's. It lacks any inflection that might provide insight on to whether or not she plans to use that rifle. Cato wets his mouth. “I thought you were dead.”  “Nope.”  “Are you going to kill me?”  “Are you gonna give me a reason?”  She shifts her weight, leaning back on one foot. Once more, like a cat about to pounce. Cato doesn't move. “No,” he says cautiously. “Not if you don't already have one.”  Cecelia had not been a young woman of good humor. Even as her lips crack in a little smile, there and gone, Cato gets the sense that that hasn't changed much. Finally, she swings the rifle up to rest upon her shoulder and cocks her hip. “Revenge gets you dead, Cato,” she says. “You and I, we're square. For now.” 

[daveysjackie]

Masterlist of all the Kelly-Jacobs kids I have made for my numerous AUs

Honestly, this is mostly so I can keep track of these scamps and my AUs. But I'm putting them here so enjoy

(Also, if you have any questions about the characters or the AUs, please ask, i love talking about my AUs)

My New Dream (single Dad Jack AU)

Faith Cecelia Kelly (Later Kelly-Jacobs)

The only child in this AU

She commonly goes by Fae

Named because of Jack's dream of Santa Fe (yeah Jack really sprained a brain muscle naming his kid)

She also gains the moniker of his "little fairy"

When Davey finds out her full name, he calls her Cece.

(He is the only person that is allowed to call her that. Not even Jack is allowed)

She was born soon after Jack moved to Santa Fe for college and he had a one night stand

She doesn't remember much of her life before meeting Davey when the move to NYC when she's 3

Discovers she's a lesbian when she's 7 and brings her first girlfriend home at age 10

Davey introduces her to baking when she's 5 and by the time she's 20, she is a pro baker on the cusp of owning her own little bakery

The Intricate Chaos Of You (Davey's band AU)

Stella Kelly-Jacobs

She was born via surrogate. Unlike both her dads having dark hair, she is blonde

Because of her blonde hair (and Jack and Davey always using the stars as endearments towards each other (because of Davey's song)) they name her Stella

Unlike her dads, her musical talent is limited to playing the recorder (badly)

She does have Jack's artistic talent

She either wants be a fashion designer or an inventor. There is no in-between and she changes her mind every other day

She is not very fond of the reporters and fans they deal with constantly so she loves it whenever they go back to Santa Fe because it's much more peaceful there

That being said, she has used her dads' fame to get out of trouble in school multiple times.

David Jacobs Guide To Dealing With A Bad Roommate (AKA my roommate AU)

Oliver Kelly Jacobs

He's told the story of how his dads started dating when he was 12

Jack never hears the end of it

What do you mean Aba had to get SHOT for you to confess you like him?

I was going to but the burglers got to him first

He's a little daredevil. He does flips on roller-skates, skateboards and bikes

(His dads dread when he starts learning to drive)

His dream occupation changes about twice a year

Unfortunately for his dads, he never chooses a safe job

(Jack's first grey hair is before he even hits 30 and he 100% blames Ollie)

Even In Silence

Connie Kelly-Jacobs

The oldest of her siblings

In the last chapter of EIS, she's 14

She's named after Connie Francis (who her grandfather (Jack's dad (Francis Sullivan) was named after)

She's loud all of the time (something picked up from all the time spent with Uncle Race)

She loves her siblings but is always in a competition with her brother.

It could be anything: homework, eating, brushing their teeth, she turns it into a competition

She could win everytime if she wants but she makes sure her brother wins just as many times (keeps a tally per week on her phone)

Fitz Kelly-Jacobs

His name comes from JFK's middle name (because his dad's (Jack's) aunt was named after Jackie Kennedy)

He is the middle child and only boy

In the last chapter of EIS he's 12

Almost the complete opposite of his older sister, he's very quiet.

Not that he doesn't talk. More like Ferb from Phineas and Ferb. Only speaks when he feels it's very necessary.

So he normally just uses ASL and is very close to Davey as a result

But he takes after Jack in his love for the drums

If he's sitting down at home, there's a 80% chance his youngest sister is in his lap

Meadow "Mimi" Kelly-Jacobs

The youngest of the siblings

Davey insisted on naming her after Medda somehow

But since she's young, everyone calls her Mimi to simplify it

She's 3 in the last chapter of EIS

A Jack Kelly carbon copy but with all the David Jacobs sass.

Ergo, the best of both her dads

Loves candy (as any child does)

Loves her siblings but has torn both of their hair at least twice when they ignored her in favour of literally anything else

Ice Skater AU

Maariyah "Maari" Kelly-Jacobs

She was adopted when she was 4

She's Punjabi (because I have to project SOMEWHERE)

Oldest by just a few months

Jack teaches all their kids to ice skate and she loves it so much, she decides to persue it as her career

just like dad

Wins her first competiton at 11 and Jack is a blubbering mess over her. She has a screenshot of it as Jack's picture on her phone.

She's a lesbian and meets her future wife at a rink while they're both just practising

Isaac Kelly Jacobs

He was 2 when Jack and Davey adopted him

He's African American. Jack immediately clicked with him because Isaac was orphaned when his mom died of cancer, the same as Jack.

He is normally the target of his siblings' pranks

When he becomes an astronaut, he often jokes in interviews that it was just to get as far as physically possible from them

He's the same age as Maari, just younger by a few months

He is pansexual and meets his partner in high school physics but they don't get together till they meet again years later

Sky Kelly Jacobs

The youngest of the siblings, adopted when they were only a few months old

They were born in Greece and are mixed race

Comes out as non-binary and ace when they're in their last year of middle school

(Jack's reaction to this is screaming "GOTTA CATCH 'EM ALL" and Davey rolls his eyes at that)

They're younger than their siblings by 3 years

They use the fame they get from being in a famous family to become a climate change activist (and dabbles in many other big social movements)

(This entire AU is just so >>>>)

Trans Davey AU

Francis "Frankie" Jacobs (later Kelly-Jacobs)

He was born before Davey starts the proper transition

He clicks with Jack immediately when they finally meet (he's 8)

Frankie is super close with his Aunt Sarah because she practically co-parented him up until he was 1

When Jack and Davey run into financial problems and meet Medda who gives them jobs, he becomes the "theatre's little nuisance (affectionate)"

Between the people at the theatre, Davey's family and all their friends, he is the apple of everyone's eyes

[francestroublr]

A Santa Fe Xmas

A Santa Fe Xmas

BY CECELIA GUZMAN This was a wonderful book to read over Christmas. The story follows Evie And Alex. Evie bumps into Alex on the way to the family restaurant she runs and she ends up hiring him as a bartender. Things heat up between them and we learn some juicy family secrets. Also included in this book are some family recipes from the author. I love this addition as it adds a personal…

[even-reo-speedwagon]

When you the member of the team whose got this shit on lock

[grunedesu]

A friend of mine keeps getting my +2 Jakob (who has been wrecking everything).

I keep getting a different friend’s Nowi.  Please stop giving me more blue dragons. OTL

[pocolocos]

BATTLES IN THE MEXICAN REVOLUTION (1910 - 1920)

I have a deep love for history, so I cross-referenced every major (land) battle in the Mexican Revolution, barring some raids/skirmishes that took place in Texas, and plotted them on a map in relation to Santa Fe de Laguna, the town Santa Cecelia in Coco is based off of.

Héctor was born in 1900 & Ernesto was born in 1986, so both of them would have grown up through this. Before starting this, I was under the impression that the Revolution was almost entirely fought in the north (barring the coup in Mexico City), so I was surprised to learn just how close they would have been in relation to some of the fighting.

[obasebo]

— E se não der certo? — A gente vai tentando até acertar.

(PS. Eu Te Amo)

https://obasebo.com.br/product/p-s-eu-te-amo-cecelia-ahern-carolina-caires-coelho/

#euteamo #amor #love #vida #iloveyou #teamo #meuamor #frases #gratidao #princesa #obalivros #obasebo #diadosnamorados #sentimento #namorado #poesia #marido #poema #mulher #foto #fe #esposa #escrever #namorada #magra #divas #cafe #versos #poesiaparadeus #girlfriend

[beyondconfessor]

Humid Nights

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Miranda Croft/Cecelia

Summary: Even in the late hours of the evening, the heat persisted, leaving sweat to drip down the back of her neck and shoulder, and despite how hot it was, how she shouldn’t be able to stand the feeling of another person touching her, there was nothing that could move her from Miranda’s arms.

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. Set pre-canon, about a year ago.

Cecilia was stretched in the bath, pushing her toes against the porcelain edge as her back pressed against the warm body. The water rippled with the movement, causing flower petals to shift across the agitated surface, shifting like bobbing boats through the water.

It was an outdoor bath, bed and breakfast, on some property in the middle of nowhere and aside from the heat, it was a nice place.

The water was cool against the hot, humid air. Even in the late hours of the evening, the heat persisted, leaving sweat to drip down the back of her neck and shoulder, and despite how hot it was, how she shouldn’t be able to stand the feeling of another person touching her, there was nothing that could move her from Miranda’s arms.

Dropping her head back against the woman’s shoulder, she looked up at the night sky that sat clear above them. She’d never seen so many stars before, nor had she ever witnessed the milky way in all of its glory.

“Christmas in Summer is weird,” she said, breaking the silence.

Miranda scoffed, and with it, Cecilia turned to move her eyes from the sky to the woman, watching as a small smile tugged at her lips. At the very least, she was amused by her commentary.

“You’re the one who said you were tired of the snow,” Miranda said. “Wanted to go somewhere else.”

“You’re always off travelling. Is it wrong that I wanted some time with you?”

“No,” Miranda said, speaking it softly and then she was drawing in a deep breath, likely pulling her thoughts deep into her most recent job. Cecilia settled against her and felt the words settle like a weight on their chests. Technically, she wasn’t meant to be here. Viktor hadn’t known she’d slipped off to Australia on a different flight––he likely would; there was very little the man didn’t know––, but that was a problem for another day.

Right now they had the stars above them, the bed and breakfast to themselves, and Miranda’s body against her back. There wasn’t another person for at least a few kilometres, which meant that for the first time in a very long time, they could be.

She shifted in the water, turning to the fruit bowl that had been set to the side and picked up one of the pomegranates. The fruit was firm, and she pressed her thumbnail into it, trying to pierce the skin in an attempt to get to the seeds inside.

She heard Miranda huff behind her, and then the woman was shifting, reaching out of the bath to the wooden deck.

Cecilia paused at the familiar swishing of the blade and tried not to scoff as Miranda took the pomegranate from her grip, and sliced through the pomegranate swiftly.

It was definitely something to watch, especially when the purple juice spilt from her hand, dripping into the water like drops of dye. As Miranda split down the sides, partially sectoring it in three quick movements, Cecilia couldn’t help but be mesmerised, and a little turned on.

No matter how many times she’d seen her use her knife––whether on food, or clothes or otherwise––Cecilia found herself mesmerised, forgetting whatever she’d been thinking about before and wishing only to feel the knife pressed against her, threatening to the very same thing.

Miranda chuckled behind her, likely sensing where her thoughts had gone, and then one half of the fruit was being handed back to her as Miranda kept hold of the other half.

Cecilia turned to glare at her. “That’s mine.”

“You’ve got yours there,” Miranda gestured with the knife, before she dipped the blade into the water, rinsing it off, and then set it aside. (Later, Cecilia knew Miranda would thoroughly clean and dry the knife, but it was only for an hour, it’d hardly hurt the blade).

Cecilia scowled. “You can’t just fucking take things that don’t belong to you.”

“Can’t I?” And then she watched as Miranda popped the sectored sides and pressed it to her mouth, taking a bite of the pomegranate, so the seeds split and filled her mouth.

Cecilia set her pomegranate aside then, sitting up to turn in the deep bath and watched as the woman drew the fruit away, looking as though she’d taken a bite out of man rather than fruit with the way the juice stained her face, dripping down her chin and throat.

The woman’s brow quirked, softly enquiring as she swallowed, and Cecilia pressed forward, kissing her until she felt the tartness wash over her mouth, against her tongue, until the stickiness melted with their saliva.

Miranda’s mouth was warm against hers, and as she pressed forward, she wrapped her arms around Miranda’s shoulders until the woman dropped her section of the pomegranate too, her hands coming to sticky settle on her waist. There, Miranda tugged her closer between her spread thighs, their chests pressing together. It was enough to make her thoughts spin dizzily with possibilities.

“Miranda,” she sighed against her, pulling away to look at her. The woman’s mouth was still stained, but there was an arrogance to her as she shifted her head, eyebrows raised. She looked ethereal, like some goddess of war, and it was enough for Cecelia to draw a deep breath, trying to settle the growing heat that drew threw her body.

She kissed her again, her hand drawing down in the bath cool water, slipping down Miranda’s abdomen to between her parted thighs.

As she brushed over the dark curls of the pubic hair, Miranda’s hand snatched at her wrist as she pulled away to stare at her, eyebrows raised. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Fucking you,” Cecilia said shortly. “I thought that was obvious.”

“You said you wanted a ‘nice night in the bath’. Not a fucking. You were quite clear about that.”

“Can’t a girl change her mind?” she asked sweetly. Usually, Miranda was on her the moment they were alone, it was hardly her fault that she wanted a peaceful hour between them where they did more than fuck, claw and bite at each other––but then Miranda had looked like some vampiric goddess in the bath. All thoughts of peacefully lazing under the stars had left her.

“She can,” Miranda said, and she was tugging the wrist closer, and Cecilia felt a purposeful grind against fingers, even in the resistance of the water, there was an intent that brought a shiver down her spine. “But if we’re going to fuck, we’re fucking on my terms.”

“It’s always your terms,” Cecilia said, snatching her hand away as she rose to sit tall on her knees. “Just let me fuck you.”

Miranda’s eyebrows rose, and Cecilia watched as she twitched with annoyance, jaw clenching before she let it pass. “You fuck plenty on your terms.”

“Me riding the biggest cock you can find in the sex shop is not me fucking you. That’s you setting a challenge.”

At that, Miranda smirked, looking up at her. “And don’t you surpass your expectations every time?” She did and looked good doing it. There’d been more than once when Miranda had been frustrated that she couldn’t feel it.

“Let me fuck you.”

Miranda leant up towards her and then Cecilia was watching as the woman took her hand, and brought it to her mouth. First, her index finger, drawing into her mouth, her tongue stroking against its length as she sucked, slowly drawing it out, and then she did the same to her thumb, where her tongue swiped at the pad of it, before drawing its length deep into her mouth, intentionally dragging her teeth against it as she sucked.

It was the first time Cecilia felt envious of the fact that she didn’t have a cock––the way Miranda’s eyes stared at her as she held her thumb firmly but gently between her teeth, grinning––it was enough to know what she was capable of, should she so choose.

“You’re a bitch,” Cecilia said, as her hand dropped away. Miranda laughed, and it was all the warning Cecilia had before her hips were grabbed.

Thrown backwards, Cecilia gasped as her back hit the side of the end of the tub with a smack, feeling as the water rushed the edges with the force of the movement, spilling across the sides down onto the deck it resided on.

Drawing a breath, she watched Miranda hover above her, grinning bright and wide as her hands continued to pin her in place.

Cecilia tried to glare and failed, feeling the shock wash over her. But the shock melted and Cecilia grabbed at the woman, a hand wrapping into Miranda’s hair to tug her close as she kissed her hard, bitting down on Miranda’s bottom lip and puncturing the skin.

Blood burst into her mouth, metallic against the sweet tartness of the pomegranate, and with it, she heard Miranda’s growl, low and feral in her mouth––it was enough to send a sharp rush straight through to her clit.

She tugged harder at the woman’s hair, and then Miranda was sliding her body between her legs, one hand hooking underneath her knee and lifting it high over her shoulder so that Cecilia was feeling the tightness of the muscles run down her leg––not unlike what she used to have other girls do to her back when she was dancing and trying to increase her flexibility.

And then her other leg was being lifted, over the side of the tub, so she was spread wide and open for her, watching as Miranda pulled back. The purple of the pomegranate had been washed away in the brief tussle, but Cecelia watched with pride as blood––a deep red in the porch light––dripped from her bottom lip, spilling down her chin.

She curled her hand tighter in Miranda’s hair, tugging her closer even as she felt the woman resist.

“Oh come on,” Cecilia goaded, tugging her closer. “Didn’t you want to fuck me?”

“I should belt you,” Miranda said, lifting a hand to her mouth and wiping at her face, checking that it was as bloody as she suspected. Her face turned feral. “But you’d like it too much.”

Cecilia laughed, feeling a flutter low in her belly at the thought. Miranda’s clothes weren’t far away. She was sure could fumble her way out of her grip and grab it for her should she change her mind.

“Whatever will you do,” Cecilia asked, rocking her hips above the water, near the woman’s face. “I’m so very trapped in your grip. Entirely helpless.”

“Oh fuck off with that,” Miranda snapped. “If you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna have to ask. Nicely. And if you’re very good, I might pull out that nice cock you so discreetly brought in your bag.”

“Of course, you went through my stuff.”

“And I’m to pretend you didn’t go through mine?” she asked.

Cecilia flushed. That was certainly true. The moment that she’d had two minutes alone with Miranda’s bag she’d unzipped it and looked through its entire contents, digging for Christmas presents––but if she’d purchased it, it was presently missing from the usual places. However, she did happen to come across some nice rope.

Miranda pressed forward, and Cecilia drew in a breath, feeling the muscles that ran down her thigh tighten as the flexibility she was forcing. It was a slow, lengthening pain, and if she was honest, it was not entirely unpleasant when Miranda was looking at her like she promised to stretch her out and use her.

And then she felt fingers press against her and it was all she could do to bite her lip and rock her hips against the pattern the woman was drawing over her cunt.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

Cecilia’s eyelids fluttered at the growing sensation tugging low in her belly and gave a soft noise from the back of her throat.

“Ask me nicely.”

“Please, Miranda.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

She slid inside of her and Cecilia gasped, filling the fingers press deep before she began thrusting inside of her with purposeful intent. She could hear the water rushing around them, hitting against the sides of the tub and crashing over its sides––and then Miranda was pushing closer, pressing her leg closer to her body, so the tightness of the muscle drew through her backside now, her other leg still hopelessly cast over the tub.

“God, Miran…” she hissed, and tugged the woman’s head to hers, kissing her hard and sharp, as the woman’s thumb draw over her clit.

She squeezed around the fingers thrusting deep inside of her, feeling the tension build and tense until she could feel her leg cramping. Still, she rocked her hips, kissing against the woman’s mouth until her head dropped back against the side of the tub, a low tugging growing bolder and bolder insider of her as she gasped and moaned until the sounds of their fucking filled the night sky.

Her eyes fluttered, and in a glance, she caught Miranda’s face shifting from determination to marvel at her own work, and then Cecilia’s eyes squeezed shut as her back tensed and spasmed, her cunt squeezing around the fingers until she was crying out with a gasp.

Her chest heaved in a great breath and then she was coming around Miranda’s fingers until her muscles fatigued out of nowhere––with it Miranda’s pace slowed, and then eased until she was sliding out.

Cecilia softened, her leg sliding off Miranda’s shoulder to splash into the water (now only half filling the tub) and watched as the woman she loved looked at her with a strange fascination.

“Hey,” Cecilia said, drawing her hand to cup against her cheek. Miranda allowed herself to be pulled closer, her mouth pressing gently against hers, and then sweetly until she was pulled in her arms and pressed firmly against her. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

Miranda huffed, look away as she grumbled, “No need to ruin a moment.”

“Oh, because wishing a Merry Christmas is so terrible.”

“Yes.”

“And whatever will you do about it? Belt me?”

Miranda gave a small laugh, her eyes turning back to look at her. “Might, if you keep that up.”

“Promises. Now kiss me again, and I promise to use that pretty rope to tie you up.”

[duggardata]

Have you ever done the Rogers Family (on Fundiwiki)? They have 11 kids under 11 years.

Quick Analysis:  Courtney Rogers’s #11Under11

I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never done their data.  I’ve gotten quite a few Asks about them though, especially after their recent pregnancy announcement.  I’ll do a quick analysis, just for fun...

Pastor Christopher Rogers of Santa Fe, NM and his wife, Courtney, married on October 25, 2008.  Since then, they’ve had 10 Children, and are expecting #11 in November 2020.  Here’s a list of their Child Spacings, to date—

Wedding to #1   504 Days

Child #1 to #2   500 Days

Child #2 to #3   418 Days

Child #3 to #4   301 Days (!)

Child #4 to #5   467 Days

Child #5 to #6   323 Days (!)

Child #6 to #7   N/A  (Child #6–7 are twins.)

Child #7 to #8   605 Days

Child #8 to #9   397 Days

Child #9 to #10   361 Days (!)

Child #10 to #11   ~529 Days

Overall, her Procreative Pace (Average Child Spacing Excluding Marriage–to–Child #1) is 433 Days (14.2 Months).  (Note—Practically speaking, it’s actually even faster than that, since that’s effectively her rate of pregnancies.  She had twins once, resulting in two babies for the “price,” fertility–wise, of one.)  If she continues at this pace, and doesn’t have twins again, here’s how many babies she will end up with—

If Fertile to Age 40   13 Children

If Fertile to Age 43   16 Children

If Fertile to Age 45   18 Children

Note—I don’t have all the information about Courtney’s deliveries—i.e., has she had any C–Sections?—or potential miscarriages, so no adjustments were made based on those factors.

After Rogers #11’s arrival in November, we can expect her to reveal Pregnancy #12 in May 2021, with the birth occurring in January 2022.  (All I have for data, in terms of Announcement Timing, is this latest pregnancy.  She announced at, like, 30 Days Along!  Less if she’s due in Late November!  She was, at most, 45 Days Along.  Possibly as little as 16 Days Along.) 

She and Christopher have a “C” Theme for their children, and the boys have 1–Syllable “C” Names, specifically.  (The girls all have “C” Names, but of different numbers of syllables.  No set rule.)  Here are all the potential names in the U.S. Top 1000, excluding those already used—

For Boys   Chase (#112), Cole (#118), Chance (#270), Cruz (#327), Clark (#377), Crew (#573) (à la Joanna Gaines), Chris (#614), Carl (#700), Clyde (#724), Cain (#864), Chad (#897), Creed (#962)

For Girls   Charlotte (#6), Camila (#18) / Camille / Camilla, Chloe (#25), Claire (#49) / Clara / Clare, Caroline (#55) / Carolina / Carolyn, Charlie (#152) / Charlee / Charleigh / Charli / Charley, Cecilia (#155) / Cecelia / Celia, Catherine (#204), Catalina (#235), Cassidy (#361), Camryn (#401) / Cameron, Carmen (#433), Christina (#439) / Christine, Celeste (#441), Cheyenne (#466), Chelsea (#470), Carter (#478), Cataleya (#480), Carly (#483), Cadence (#488), Celine (#503), Collins (#514), Colette (#533), Chaya (#640), Cassandra (#662), Clementine (#685), Cynthia (#693), Crystal (#717), Clarissa (#742), Chana (#750), Chanel (#769), Corinne (#795), Claudia (#872), Cara (#873), Casey (#916)                         

Thanks for the Ask!

[tlatollotl]

Cihuateotl

Date: 15th–early 16th century

Geography: Mexico, Mesoamerica

Culture: Aztec

This stone sculpture depicts a seated female figure wearing a plain skirt and a simple knotted belt. Her skull-like face, with its large, circular eyes, open mouth, and exposed teeth, is framed by a mass of unkempt hair carved in swirls and twists. Leaning forward on clawed feet, her fearsome talons are raised to the sides of her chest as if prepared to seize some unseen prey. Among the Aztecs, a woman in labor was said to "capture" the spirit of her newborn child much like a warrior captures his opponent in battle. But if a woman died while giving birth, her own soul was transformed into a terrifying demon known as a Cihuateotl, or "Divine Woman." The Cihuateteo (pl.) resided in a region in the west known as Cihuatlampa ("place of women") and accompanied the sun daily from its zenith at midday to dusk on the western horizon. As such, these malevolent spirits were regarded as the female counterparts of warriors who had perished on the battlefield and who were thought to escort the sun through the underworld to its rise each morning. The Cihuateteo descended to the earth on five specific days in the Aztec calendar: 1 Deer, 1 Rain, 1 Monkey, 1 House, and 1 Eagle. During these times, they were known to haunt crossroads—places associated with evil and disease—in hopes of snatching the young children they were never privileged to have. The figure seen here has been inscribed on top of her head with the name "Ce Calli" (1 House), thus indicating her prescribed day of descent. Four nearly identical goddesses are housed in the collection of the Museo Nacional de Antropología in Mexico City—each being differentiated only by the date glyph engraved on its head—and, along with the one seen here, may have originally formed a set. Evidence suggests these five sculptures would have been placed in a shrine dedicated to the Cihuateteo, perhaps in the main temple precinct of the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan. Elsewhere in Postclassic art (ca. 1100–1521), the postpartum female body is depicted with pendulous breasts and a creased, flaccid stomach. Here, however, the figure’s taut belly and exposed, youthful breasts serve to underscore her unrealized potential as a mother, as she died before having the opportunity to bear and nurse her newborn child. Examples of female supernatural figures with similar overtones of death (and eventual resurrection) are found in a number of Mesoamerican traditions, from Classic Veracruz statuary (ca. 7th–10th century) to Aztec and Mixtec codices (ca. 13th–16th century). Such a broad distribution indicates that the Cihuateteo were important, long-lasting features of indigenous religious practices. William T. Gassaway, 2014–15 Sylvan C. Coleman and Pamela Coleman Fellow ----- Resources and Additional Reading Aguilar-Moreno, Manuel. Handbook to Life in the Aztec World. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. Boone, Elizabeth H. Cycles of Time and Meaning in the Mexican Books of Fate. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2007. Diel, Lori Boornazian. "Clothing Women: The Female Body in Pre- and Post-Contact Aztec Art." In Woman and Art in Early Modern Latin America, edited by Kellen Kee McIntyre and Richard E. Phillips, 221–45. Leiden; Boston: Brill, 2007. Johansson K., Patrick. "Mocihuaquetzqueh: ¿Mujeres Divinas O Mujeres Siniestras? (Mocihuaquetzqueh: Divine Women or Sinister Women?)." Estudios de Cultura Náhuatl37 (2009): 193–230. Key, Anne. "Death and the Divine: The Cihuateteo, Goddesses in the Mesoamerican Cosmovision." PhD diss., California Institute of Integral Studies, 2005. Klein, Cecelia. "The Devil and the Skirt: An Iconographic Inquiry into the Pre-Hispanic Nature of the Tzitzimime." Ancient Mesoamerica 11 (2000): 1–26. Miller, Mary E., and Karl Taube. The Gods and Symbols of Ancient Mexico and the Maya: An Illustrated Dictionary of Mesoamerican Religion. London: Thames & Hudson Ltd, 1993. Nicholson, Henry B., and Eloise Quiñones-Keber. The Art of Aztec Mexico: Treasures of Tenochtitlan. Catalogue of an Exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, Washington, 1983. Washington, D.C.: National Gallery of Art, 1983. Pasztory, Esther. Aztec Art. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1983. Sahagún, Fray Bernardino. Florentine Codex: General History of the Things of New Spain. 12 vols. Translated by Arthur J. O. Anderson and Charles E. Dibble. Santa Fe, NM: School of American Research and University of Utah Press, 1950–82.  

The Met

[newvegascowboy]

Cecelia Butcher - born 2254 in southern Colorado to farmers and homesteaders. When she was 8 years old, in 2262, her community was absorbed into the Legion. After her parents' death, she was taken to the Legion occupied city of Santa Fe, New Mexico.

She spent the majority of her time there assisting the healers, and eventually formed a close sibling relationship with a Legionary three years her senior, Jack Castillo. In 2268, at the age for fourteen, both she and Jack escaped the Legion and fled south to Mexico.

design notes - I based a lot of the dress off of classic Greco-Roman chitons to fit with the Legion theme, but i added some southwestern cultural flare with sashes/armbands/etc, which all have those famous desert hues and geometric designs. The hair beads and some of the jewelry are also made out of turquoise, since that's an iconic staple of the southwest. The fibulae (shoulder clasp) and bindings on the clothes are red to denote a servant/slave role.

[beeprich]

i’m deleting my IT playlists from my spotify under the cut i have listed all of the songs to each playlist in case y'all were that fond of em (feel free to follow @ lilriottt lol i still got some non-it bangers)

eddie

1. cut to the feeling - carly rae jepsen

2. lottery - kali uchis

3. my my my - troye sivan

4. american boyfriend - kevin abstract

5. going away to college - blink 182

6. hair - lady gaga

7. greedy - ariana grande

8. lo que siento - cuco

9. papoutai - stromae

10. make out in my car - sufjan stevens version

11. mama don’t make me put on the dress again - trixie mattel

12. brooklyn baby - lana del rey

13. kiss - prince

14. ship to wreck - florence and the machine

15. lies - marina and the diamonds

16. 400 lux - lorde

17. only angel - harry styles

18. wetsuit - the vaccines 

19. white ferrari - frank ocean

richie

1. quixoticelixer - red hot chili peppers

2. too drunk to fuck - dead kennedys

3. what’s my age again - blink 182

4. this song is not about a girl - flume

5. denial - the vaccines

6. flash delirium - mgmt

7. no friends - san cisco 

8. age of consent - new order

9. el scorcho - weezer

10. amoeba - adolescents 

11. boys - brockhampton

12. suck it and see - arctic monkeys

13. dare - gorillaz

14. creepin up the backstairs - the fratellis 

15. bloodstains - agent orange

16. masseduction - st. vincent

benverly

1. blossom - milky chance 

2. you were meant for me - jewel

3. friday i’m in love - the cure

4. ophelia - the lumineers 

5. pelican - the maccabees

6. sonora - spendtime palace

7. rhiannon - fleetwood mac

8. forrest gump - frank ocean

9. ironic - alanis morissette 

10. lovefool - the cardigans

11. kiss me - sixpence none the richer

12. check yes juliet - we the kings

13. iris - the goo goo dolls

14. wanted you - twin peaks 

15. linger - the cranberries

16. riptide - vance joy

17. happy together - the turtles

stanlon

1. medicine - daughter

2. little secrets - passion pit

3. hallelujah - rufus wainwright

4. angels - the xx

5. breezeblocks - alt-j

6. sea of love - cat power

7. boys dont cry - the cure

8. sleep alone - two door cinema club

9. not about angels - birdy

10. easy to love - ivan & alyosha

11. flightless bird, american mouth - iron & wine

12. rivers and roads - the head and the heart

13. daylight - matt and kim

14. cough syrup - young the giant 

15. santa fe - beirut 

16. marks to prove it - the maccabees

17. dreams - fleetwood mac 

bichie

1. cecelia and the satellite - andrew mcmahon in the wilderness 

2. handsome - the vaccines

3. somebody told me - the killers

4. the end of all things - panic at the disco

5. anything, anything - dramarama

6. wrong number - the cure

7. holocene - bon iver

8. tessellate - alt-j

9. dance on our graves - paper route 

10. how soon is now? - the smiths

11. bizarre love triangle - new order

12. blister in the sun - violent femmes 

13. cocoon - milky chance

14. love my way - the psychedelic furs

15. what you know - two door cinema club

16. sub-mission - sex pistols

17. the killing moon - echo & the bunnymen

kaspbrough

1. toothpaste kisses - the maccabees

2. lovesick - peace

3. love - lana del rey

4. too much - sufjan stevens 

5. our song - the xx

6. lottery - kali uchis

7. the blower’s daughter - damien rice

8. almost lover - a fine frenzy

9. still into you - paramore

10. childhood sweetheart - chunk berry

11. you don’t know how lucky you are - keaton henson

12. skinny love - bon iver

13. best of friends - palma violets 

14. to build a home - the cinematic orchestra 

15. medicine - daughter

16. atlas hands - benjamin francis leftwich

17. picasso - the cinema

reddie

1. caroline - amine 

2. lovesong - the cure

3. the night josh tillman came to our apt. - father john misty 

4. there is a light that never goes out - the smiths

5. shut up kiss me - angel olsen 

6. ivy - frank ocean

7. my kind of woman - mac demarco 

8. africa - toto

9. the predatory wasp of the palisades is out to get us - sufjan stevens 

10. love will tear us apart - joy division 

11. your best american girl - mitski 

12. i always knew - the vaccines 

13. buddy holly - weezer

14. a 1000 times - hamilton leithauser + rostam

15. irreversible cure - spendtime palace

16. tyrant - kali uchis

17. you - keaton henson

beverie

1. punching bag - cage the elephant 

2. fluorescent adolescent - arctic monkeys 

3. island in the sun - weezer

4. someday - the strokes 

5. believe me natalie - the killers 

6. shut up and let me go - the ting tings

7. heads will roll - yeah yeah yeahs

8. sour cherry - the kills 

9. everyday is like sunday - morrissey 

10. china girl - david bowie

11. time to pretend - mgmt

12. no you girls - franz ferdinand 

13. stella - san cisco

14. anna sun - walk the moon

15. hang me up to dry - cold war kids 

16. teenage icon - the vaccines 

17. lily lee - spendtime palace 

stenbrough 

1. romeo and juliet - the killers

2. teenage blue - dreamgirl

3. real love baby - father john misty

4. it’s nice to be alive - ball park music

5. chateau - angus & julia stone 

6. heroes - david bowie

7. see you again - tyler, the creator

8. no room in frame - death cab for cutie

9. fallingforyou - the 1975

10. i love you so - the walters

11. wouldn’t it be nice - the beach boys

12. coming home - leon bridges

13. last nite - the strokes

14. mardy bum - arctic monkeys 

15. seaside - the kooks

16. baby blue - king krule

17. a little while - yellow days

stozier

1. miss atomic bomb - the killers

2. this love - maroon 5

3. mystery of love - sufjan stevens 

4. old lovers in dressing rooms - keaton henson

5. cry baby - the nbhd

6. heart skipped a beat - the xx

7. only if for a night - florence and the machine

8. wet dreams - the growlers 

9. i love you, honeybear - father john misty 

10. love is a laserquest - arctic monkeys 

11. the less i know the better - tame impala

12. two fingers - jake bugg

13. come undone - duran duran 

14. cupid’s chokehold/breakfast in america - gym class heroes 

15. undone (the sweater song) - weezer

16. somebody else - the 1975

17. crooked teeth 

[deborahlindquist]

A flashback image of my first Christmas Eve in LA. Dec 24,,1989. I was clearly very happy to be here. 🌲 I had left what wasn’t a happy situation for me on the East Coast on the day after thanksgiving for a road trip across the country with my cat Fraidy. I crammed as much as I could in my Mazda hatchback and headed to Alabama where I had scheduled a trunkshow. Fraidy had never been in a car before and wasn’t happy about it. I drove for hours with my hand inside her carrier with her holding on to my hand tightly. It took awhile but she finally realized we’d be in the car for awhile and she would need to relax. 🐾 The trunkshow was good, and I was able to spend a couple days with my friend Cecelia and her family in Alabama. As it turned out, selling my belts and jewelry across the US was necessary in order for me to pay for my gas and travel expenses. It was an unusual trek because of funds, but important enough for me to make the journey on faith along with my belt and jewelry line to sell. ✨ I found customers in Dallas, Santa Fe, and Scottsdale along the way. I spent my birthday driving. It was long but Fraidy and I had a wonderful time together. I arrived safe and sound at my Cousin Joan’s home in Balboa a couple weeks before Christmas. This photo is from our Xmas celebration there. 🌲 A few days after I arrived, I landed a part time job at a LA showroom with Kathy Matulich thanks to an introduction by my friend Wendy. I also got a house sitting gig in Hollywood while a musician friend was out on tour. Kathy gave me my first showroom space opportunity and helped me meet so many wonderful retailers to sell to. 🦋 It’s been 30 years since I arrived here in LA So many things. New friends, beginnings, endings. Ups and downs Full of magic. ✨ 🌲 Merry Christmas Everyone! I wish you a safe, happy and healthy holiday season. 🌲 #christmas #merrychristmas #deborahlindquist https://www.instagram.com/p/B6ew5VmjoND/?igshid=14cyxp2919k9i