#fucking- Eileen I could rant about her for another hour

[lunmelia]

Alright, I’ve had a good rant with my sister for the past half hour but I still got shit to say and I don’t wanna bother her too much, so here we go. Ignore this, I just want to write my thoughts down and get this shit out of my head and move on.

That finale... was fucking horrible. I think we all know that. I honestly did not expect to be as disappointed as I am. I expected a little bit of disappointment. I expected destiel not going fully canon, what I didn’t expect was THAT fast-paced, stale, not good at all ending. I honestly didn’t. For a show that went for 15 years, was pretty popular for a bit, I did not expect the ending to be that bad. Although I’m not that surprised. Think it just had a reputation for being a bad show, so it makes sense for it to wrap up in a bad way. But maybe I am still a bit surprised. I... really didn’t expect it to be so bad. 

I laughed through the entire thing. I was laughing while Dean was dying. I was laughing while Sam was doing his little sad rounds around the bunker. I was laughing when Dean went to heaven. I was laughing while Sam was dying. I laughed the whole way through. 

I should not have been laughing. 

For a finale for an entire show, it should not have made me laugh as much as it did. What it should’ve done was make me cry and make me feel satisfied. It did not do either of those. I just feel really fucking disappointed. 

That scene with “old Sam” sitting in the impala? A fucking joke. Are you fucking kiddingMEMSJKDHFKHASKGHSJKADGHK I MEAN COME ON! That was fucking hilarious! Man was in a cheap wig from party city, didn’t look like he’d aged a day and yet he was moving as if he was fucking 80??? WHAT THE FUFJCVJHDFHASHGASHGHS that was sooooo bad. so so so bad. 

At one point I started checking the time on my phone and asking the episode to “hurry up already I want this over and done with” but I still fucking watched and I should’ve just left when Dean got impaled. THAT’S HOW HE GOES?? DEAN WINCHESTER? THE RIGHTEOUS MAN?? DIES BY GETTING IMPALED BY A RUSTY METAL ROD?? I’M FUCKING CACKLING 

That whole finale was just comedy gold, it honestly was. 

Aside from that, why was this show bad? This show had no character development. It really didn’t. You know what the only character development I could see was? When Dean said “see that’s not who I am” when Chuck called him the ultimate killer, and even that was revoked when a week later Dean goes running in to decapitate a bunch of vamps. Granted they were kidnapping kids so the fuckers deserved it but still, from a writers point of view they should have included that whole case. (by the way another reason I was laughing during Dean’s death was because, what were the two boys doing?? were they just waiting outside this entire time? traumatized? or did some more vamps come along to kidnap them again and Dean’s death didn’t even fucking matter? What happened to the kids????) 

But there was no character development. Dean started as an alcoholic, hunt-obsessed, rage-filled, codependent man with an abusive father. Where was he in season 15? He drank himself into a black-out after Cas died, he died during a case, he was still raging the entire season, he stayed by his brother’s side and never had the opportunity to grow away from him, and his abusive father is with him in heaven. His horrible, self-destructive coping mechanisms were never addressed upfront, he never got help and he died before he got the chance. From my point of view, he died the exact same man the show started with. No character development for Dean. 

I can’t say that much about Sam because if I’m honest I don’t know him as well as I do Dean and Cas. Maybe someone who knows him better can talk more about his lack of character development. Or maybe he had more than Dean. But to me, same as Dean with the codependency. He stayed by Dean’s side after they were free. And what was the very first thing we learn about Sam at the beginning of the show? Right, that he wanted an independent life away from Dean. Away from hunting. Guess Dean had to die for that to become a reality. 

And Cas? God, Cas’ ending really pissed me off. I kind of don’t want to add personal feelings to this, but for the sake of explaining why I really hate Cas’ . ending, I might have to. As someone who in the past has had to sacrifice myself for the sake of others, Cas’ ending really sucked. I think Cas was my favourite character because I related to him, with the whole constantly sacrificing yourself for others but getting nothing back. And he died for Dean? A man who constantly abused him, mentally and physically? Because he loved Dean? Yeah, that whole thing screamed attached abuse victim to me. Cas started out serving Dean; rescuing him from hell, coming only when he called, dying for him, and how does his story end? Dying for Dean fucking Winchester, who could give nothing but pointless apologies back to him. Frankly, I don’t think Dean deserved to be loved by a celestial being who witnessed the creation of earth. I think the most character development Cas got was when he left the bunker earlier on in the season. And yet he still came back. So that character development was revoked. He should’ve stayed away, honestly. He died doing the same thing he’s always done throughout this show; serving Dean. 

So yes, this show had no character development, And that’s really fucking unsatisfying. Want to know what’s the most disappointing thing about all of this?

This show had... so much potential. 

It really did. First of all, the biggest one being Dean and Cas’ story. If their entire arc had been used in a romantic sense, it honestly would’ve been a great love story. Fuck it, doesn’t even have to been Dean and Cas, but just the story. A man literally rescued by an angel, an arc that goes from bitterness to tolerance to friends to lovers. The man teaching this angel free will, and the angel in return teaching this man to love himself as others love him. That... honestly would’ve been one of the greatest love stories of all time. But it got wasted on fucking Supernatural. So, if someone could write a brand new story that features a similar love arc, that’d be great.

The overall story of Supernatural, too, had so much potential. Two brothers, raised by an abusive father and no mum, both holding bitter feelings towards each other because one of them left. They reunite and learn that they have this big destiny. They say no to that destiny. They confront how they were raised and come to the conclusion that their father was indeed abusive and their lives are shit. They get help. They learn that family doesn’t end in blood. They find family in the friends they make. They confront their codependency with each other and learn to live separately, to not depend on each other so much. They defeat god. They get their happy ending, with their huge family that they made. They’re mentally healthy. That story would’ve been fucking epic, and satisfying. And yet, it got wasted on Supernatural. 

It just... it had so much potential. It could’ve been something great. And yet it had shitty writers and fucking cw as a network. 

So... all of that being said. Think I’m done. Tonight, I watched the first three episodes of The Boys and uhh... I’ll be dedicating my time to that show thank you very much. It’s fucking great you should give it a shot if you haven’t seen it. But uh yeah, that ending sucked ass but at the end of the day it’s a show and I’m moving on. 

OH WAIT ONE MORE THING. 

The award for the greatest, and honestly kinda impressive, queerbaiting goes to SUPERNATURAL!! OH MY FUCKING GOD. THIS SHOW QUEERBAITED THESE TWO CHARACTERS FOR 12 FUCKING SEASONS, LETS ONE OF THEM SAY “I LOVE YOU” DIRECTLY TO THE OTHER, AND ENDS IT THERE!!! NO “HE LOVES HIM BACK / HE DOESN’T” THEY JUST ENDED IT THERE!! THE GREATEST FUCKING QUEERBAITING OF ALL TIME, FOLKS! I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE IT. THEY LET HIM SAY IT! AND THEY STILL!! SOMEHOW FUKING QUEERBAITED US!! AND THEY LET ONE OF THEM SAY IT! BUT IT’S STILL QUEERBAITING!!! IT’S SO FUCKING- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

so anyways peace I’m fucking out

[lokisarmyfirstwarrior]

Rant on SPN finale

Obviously SPOILERS ahead

Whoa, this got a lot longer than I anticipated. And I have a suspicion I forgot to add something, but hey, I had to vent.

I just binged the last few episodes of Supernatural, on a very legal site. It took me quite a few tries to get back into it, because by the time the end came, I thought the show was stupid. And i still kind of think it is, Somewhere around leviathans and cain’s mark it went downhill. It was getting more tangled into itself and the stories weren’t enjoyable anymore. 

So when they announced this is gonna be the last season, I was rather relieved. Yeah, there’s enough episodes to rewatch and have good time reminiscing about the old times. And it lets the show finish on a note that is not the worst out there. 

I still stand by that. Most of the season was boring, predictable in a way. But towards the end, episodes 18 and 19 weren’t bad.

Let’s not comment on Destiel’s weird and awkward confession, during which i had to look away and nervously laugh to survive the second hand embarrassment. It was quite out of place and I think the perfect happiness thing would work out a lot better if it was Dean suddenly realizing Cas is about to sacrifice himself and confess. But hey, we go by bury your gays in this show, so that can’t happen and instead we get a half-assed reaction from Dean, who doesn’t pick up the phone to inform his beloved brother that it was all Chuck’s doing and instead kind of sort of cries. I mean, they could have at least texted Sam it’s the Death, it’s the God, it’s worse. But that’s just my logic and common sense speaking, sorry. I do realize I started this paragraph with let’s not comment, but I had to. 

And maybe this makes me a bad person, but  I am glad, that Sam didn’t get to Eileen on time. Their whole relationship seemed forced, maybe because it was mainly Chuck’s doing, but nonetheless, I wasn’t really on board of that ship.  Besides, if Cas and Dean, don’t get their - hinted at - happy ending, why should Sam and Eileen get one. Because that one’s straight? No, thanks. Not to mention Cas’ death seemed kind of glossed over... I don’t want to get into that, but that was a part I didn’t like in the slightest. 

Jack apparently had to die several times in an episode to be a proper Winchester and catch up on the total deaths count. I love Jack, he is very adorable and Dean’s way of treating him got on my nerves a lot. I’m not saying he should have forgiven him faster or at all. But the kid wanted to sacrifice himself for them - and the world- he could have appreciated it a bit more than saying he is no one or nothing. That was a moment where I lost all hope for Dean.

The first time I thought of Jack becoming God was when they mentioned that somebody has to fill up the place after Chuck and Amara are gone. For some reason, they never really considered Jack to be the one to do it, even before they knew he was supposed to die. Which baffles me, because he proved time and time again, he is on their side and he is good. But whatever, him actually becoming God was probably the best thing to come out of this ending. The worst scene was when Chuck was laying powerless on the ground and they fucking explained step by step what happened. Talk about spoon feeding the audience. I hated that part with flashbacks and all. I’d understand if it were something that happened long time ago and only now became useful, but it all started in the previous episode at most. They super obviously left Chuck to rot, because he deserves it. But it was obvious since the first moment he started talking about it being a poetic ending and Dean being a killer, when Cas just told him he is not... Then a super religious Jack monologue when they brought back the humanity. Although I am not sure who he did bring back. I kept thinking about Eileen and if Sam wouldn’t want to get back to her or something, but apparently he forgot already. 

The 19th episode ended somewhat fanfictiony when you think about it. Just the two of them, free and in peace riding into the sunset while clips from previous episodes flash on the screen. (A lot of them were from Gabe’s episodes, kudos for that) I have seen quite a lot posts about similar ending and with maybe it prolonged for a minute, we could the end with carry on playing in the background. That would have been nice. 

Now, when I watched it, I was about halfway through the season when I googled how many episodes does it have. Because I thought 20 is not enough, I remembered there being around 22 or 23. It showed 20, so I continued watching. When I was watching the 19th episode, I kept thinking, this is a good end, that it was not bad. But I also kept thinking, what is going on, there is another episode. And I read somewhere, that the finale is supposed to be longer, but that part of it was just behind the scenes and stuff. So I thought, the 20th episode I see on the website is that, behind the scenes. I stopped the episode at some point after th drive into sunset started, still thinking there is another one after it when I googled  again season 15 episodes. For some reason it showed 19 and I thought I was robbed of that feeling of THE END at the finish of something that was such a huge part of my life. I was so confused. Then I started the 20th episode, thinking already it is indeed behind the scenes, only to find out there is another episode. 

I did cry at the final ending, but I also kept thinking it was stupid. The whole episode was stupid and completely unnecessary (I mean they spent ten minutes on Dean conversing with Sam, impaled on a pole...). I guess it was the final happy ending. But when Bobby mentioned Cas helped Jack rebuild the heaven, I expected a little more than just a smirk from Dean. I mean, I would have been completely okay if they just hugged reuniting, meaning they had sort of happy ending, with Cas occasionally checking in on Dean. Anything really, after the queerbaiting... But what should I expect after the same person who killed Queliot essentially killed Destiel too. 

Then the whole montage of Sam living his life to the fullest and Dean driving Baby in the heaven. I lost it when they showed Sam’s kid wearing overalls wth his name on it. That was ridiculous. Dean stopped at the most random bridge, just to have a nice shot with the crew I’d guess. And super obviously Sam appers behind him, I could tell and hour in advance (complete exaggeration) that he’s gonna say Hey, Sammy. Because this last season was riddled with bad throwbacks. This particular scene reminded me of The Untamed last scene, which played out very similarly, except way better(Honestly, everything is better, if you like chinese drama, you’ll love this one.  It’s gay, although censored and originates from a book) 

It was as if Dean didn’t deserve to live his life to the fullest on Earth. Maybe they wouldn’t get families if they stayed together and continued hunting, okay I can get over that. But when Sam’s kid told him it’s okay, he can go now, that was some high level cringe. I get it was because Dean wanted Sam to say it to him, but their whole conversation was very cringe at the time. 

Well, I decided that episode 20 does not exist and I do not accept any criticism on that. They could have used Carry on my wayward son in episode 19 and that would have been a better ending.

Thank you for reading through if you’ve read through it all. Thank you.

[b-hardys]

v-day jitters / roger taylor

absolutely NO ONE asked but after seeing the ask that @angrylizardjacket got about how they think ash/roger and giselle/roger would spend valentine’s day a sister was inspired (and lonely) and this word vomit happened? happy belated valentines day x

“What are you doing tomorrow night? Surely you don’t have band practice, the other three are spoken for.” Roger’s hooded and tired eyes glanced over to the panting young woman beside him, her bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat and her chest rising and falling so delicately under the sheets from his bed. Her figure danced around his short-term memory, the vision and feeling of her skin slick against his with sweat, their bodies dancing together while they cursed each other out with pleasure. “Couldn’t tell ya’, don’t think I ‘ave any plans.” Her dainty fingers (clad in one too many of the fiddly rings she’d nicked from work, to which Roger and Brian had proceeded to subtly acquire for themselves) trailed up and down his inner forearm of the arm, he had slung across the mattress behind her head, her fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Roger couldn’t tell you a time the two had co-existed so peacefully before, their conversations normally littered with quips and snark. But now, as they lay there under his sheets out of breath (and definitely out of energy) it was almost as if they had stepped into an alternate reality where the two could manage to be together so peacefully, no interruptions, no other girls around the bar fawning over the brunette, no Brian or Tim to call him over to “move the fuckin’ van!”, it was truly just the two of them, so peaceful and quiet and content with each other’s company, so infatuated with the others post-sex affection. “So, if I asked you to dinner you wouldn’t say no?” Eileen’s voice was almost so faint Roger couldn’t make it out, almost as if she was so sure (and hoping) if she was quiet enough he wouldn’t hear and she could take it back without ever having to lay her heart out on her sleeve.

“You want me to be your valentine darlin’?” She rolled her eyes and manoeuvred her way atop Roger, the sheets falling so gracefully in her wake, her shins resting on either side of his hips - Roger couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes, her features all so smooth and he was so undeserving and so, so unworthy of the young woman who sat atop of him. His hands caressing her hips, ultimately resting on her waist as he slightly tugged her down closer to him, her lips simply too inviting. “Don’t go getting all sentimental on me, I’m stark naked and frankly don’t have the time.” Her snark was accompanied by the softest smile he’d ever seen grace her lips, her rosy cheeks plump from the force of her mouth turning upwards, before they descended down upon his, moulding together so effortlessly as if the two were carved to do this forever and ever and ever.

“Nancy, I swear to God if you can see his car outside and you don’t tell me we’re through.” Eileen’s overdramatic nature had truly made itself known over the past hour and a half while she got ready. Every piece of velvet, satin, tweed or denim she had residing on the rack in her room and haphazardly thrown about the tiny flat had been deemed not good enough for the “not-a-date” date that she had initiated while climbing atop Roger for a ceremonious round two. “He’s seen you naked I really don’t think you need to be worried. You’re getting a shag whether you look good or not.” Nancy definitely had a point, but that wasn’t the point. Just because Eileen knew that Roger found her physically attractive that didn’t mean that she didn’t want him to like her personality, her quirks or the funky outfits she got for seventy-five per cent off at work.

While Eileen stood in front of her vanity wiping away and re-applying the deep red lipstick she was contemplating on whether or not red for valentines day was too cliche, Nancy had been politely forced to keep watch. “I don’t wanna’ rush you or anythin’ but he has definitely pulled up and - wow alright, he brought you flowers. What the fuck have you done to Roger Taylor? What kind of sex are you two having?”. Running across the room to start shoving Nancy into the bathroom, Eileen felt every single nerve-ending in her body fucking explode at the thought of Roger buying her flowers, what the fuck was going on? He had to have been replaced by a clone, or it wasn’t him, or he was joking, maybe Brian had guilted him into buying them, he was always saying that Roger treated her like a friend opposed to a girlfriend (to which they always replied “we aren’t dating!”, Brian’s cheeky smile being returned to them while he drank).

Roger knocking on her door caused the two of them to freeze in the doorway to the bathroom, their play-fighting had been completely forgotten as Nancy truly saw how genuinely nervous Eileen was, which was something she definitely hadn’t seen before.

“Calm down, you look great, and I know you like him - don’t argue with me, I’m your best friend so I see right through you! So, just enjoy yourself and report back to me in the morning when he stumbles outta’ here.”

Dinner was served and the conversation hadn’t halted for even a second. Whether the two of them were laughing about something outrageous Roger had done throughout his dentistry degree or ranting about a customer that had simply driven Eileen up the wall the two of them would have looked like they’d been dating for ages. “…and then the girl Brian had been seeing walked in and was pretty shocked to see us all wearing something Freddie had constructed out of the fabric he’d snagged from somewhere. Was definitely a sight to see.” Placing her hand over her mouth, hopefully, to muffle her laughter at the mental image of what the woman walked in on, Roger couldn’t help but get his eyes stuck on her smile, or what he could see before she raised her hand. He simply couldn’t tear himself away, she was addicting. No matter what it was, Roger found himself truly mesmerised by the way she carried herself and prioritised her life; also the carefree personality she seemed to unveil the more they hung out and got to know one another. Eileen knew he was staring, with the softest smile she’d ever seen grace his features - and she felt extremely lucky to be the girl that sat across from him on February 14th. With his soft eyes and intoxicating smile, to the blazer that fitted so well and the way he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her in the most innocent way possible.

“She’s very lucky, I’ve never been backstage, always gotta’ meet you at the bar.” Resting her chin atop her fists on the table, she managed to wink at Roger without making a complete fool of herself - a feat she was pretty proud of considering that no matter how well the night was going she truly did feel like a fish out of water and she was so, so nervous to be across from him right now. “Next show, actually let me know you’re coming and you’ll be back there, give me a back-rub beforehand?” Eileen just rolled her eyes, the smile on her face completely contradicting the faux-annoyance she was trying to exude. “Seriously though, instead of surprising me just let me know and I’ll come to get ya’.” 

This was more than some meaningless making-out on Sundays, and a convenient shag when the two were free. The two sat there, completely struck by the other whether the other knew it or not, the two of them were screwed and unprepared for what was to come. 

[ellanainthetardis]

Hey hey hey! Are you ready for your Sunday dose of baby fic? Let me know your thoughts!

[FF] or [AO3]

22. Twenty-seven Weeks.

Effie passed her hand on the neatly folded piles of rompers, pants and little sweaters she had just placed in the brand new white dresser. They were starting to have a real collection of them but nowhere near enough in her opinion, the two piles looked small and lost in the big drawer. She was eager to go on a shopping spree but found herself hindered by the still deep coat of snow. Reaching the train station to see her mother off two weeks earlier had almost been too much for her, she had slept for hours afterwards.

People brought her clothes though, as well as stuffed animals or colorful toys… Eileen had brought a darling little elephant with a blue bowtie… So soft… She had placed it on the shelf Haymitch had screwed in a couple of days earlier along with a few other toys. The rag doll Haymitch had bought for her, the one he had brought to Four with him, was proudly displayed on the dresser for the time being. She liked touching it when her nerves played tricks on her. It calmed her down, reminded her they were in this together, that they could do it.

The nursery was finally taking form.

The dresser, the baby-changing table, a baby carrier that had been left in the corner for now, soft rugs and lovely little curtains, a rocking chair, shelves that were still mostly empty… She loved the cartoon animals Peeta had painted for their son…

She knew they had time yet, she had barely started her seventh month, but with the beginning of the third trimester, she was starting to fret again.

“We need to baby proof the house.” she declared. They needed to make sure plugs would be safe, kitchen drawers would remain shut, that no little hands would close on sharp objects or little lips swallow something vile… They would need a gate for the stairs and so many other things…

“By we, you mean me.” Haymitch snorted from where he was sitting on the floor, trying to piece the crib together.

There had been a long and heavy debate about cribs. Effie had wanted two. One for the nursery and one for their bedroom because it had seemed logical to her that a baby would require a lot of coming and going at night at first and it seemed stupid to actually get up who knew how many times every night – all the more so given that she would end up having to be the one to get out of bed since she would be the food source. Haymitch had absolutely refused the idea of a crib in the bedroom, arguing that the baby would get used to it and then they would have all the pain in the world getting him used to sleeping alone in his room.

At which point the actual idea of being separated from her child even if it was by a corridor had been too much and she had started to cry.

Haymitch’s face at that moment had been almost comical.

It was exhaustion mostly. She was suffering from bouts of restlessness followed by hours when her whole body felt heavy and tired and all she could do was nap or lie on the couch like the big whale she was in danger of becoming.

Everyone told her it was normal but she was still anxious.

She wanted everything to be ready, she needed everything to be ready. It didn’t matter that they had three months left.

“You will be the hands and I will be the brain.” she teased.

“Sure, sweetheart. Keep telling yourself that.” He rolled his eyes. “Sit down, yeah? You’ve been on your feet for a while.”

She pursed her lips at that deflection but snatched the notepad from where she had left it on the floor – not without a lot of difficulties because her belly was big – and settled on the rocking-chair. She added baby proofing to her long list.

Eileen said she was nesting, that it was normal.

She deeply resented the implication that she was acting like a poultry of some kind but couldn’t deny the truth of that statement.

During their last phone call, Lyssa had laughed at her complaining nothing was ready and had told her what she truly needed to get ready for was the birth, that there was a reason she had chosen to use a surrogate for her second pregnancy. Her sister had meant nothing by it, it was an innocent joke, but it had sent Effie in a state.

She hadn’t really thought about the actual birth yet. The aftermath, yes… Holding her baby, probably crying a lot out of relief at finally having him in her arms… But the actual birth was a sort of limbo she had been happy not to consider.

Reading chapters about delivery was somewhere on her list, between getting a diaper bag and buy more lotion because she was running low and she was very invested in avoiding stretch marks. Haymitch loved helping her in that endeavor even though it had less to do with what she would look like once she wasn’t pregnant anymore and more to do with rubbing cream all over her. It was alright with her, her belly was a hindrance now and they needed to be creative where sex was concerned.

“So, I was thinking…” he continued distractedly as he screwed together two pieces of white wood. She wanted to tell him to be careful with the paint but knew it would end up with a rant about how he could still put furniture together without making a mess, thank you very much Effie. “How about Silas?”

Finding a name was at the top of her list, underlined twice and circled three times. She had notepads filled with potential names. The problem was, they didn’t seem to be able to agree on any.

“Silas.” she repeated, testing it out. She imagined herself calling her little boy on the playground and wrinkled her nose. “Why not Chryses? It means golden. I knew a Chryses, very good name…” He tossed her a look and she rolled her eyes, rubbing her belly. “Daddy doesn’t want you to have a pretty name, baby. He wants to call you shrimp all your life.”

“I want him to have a good name, a solid name.” he grumbled. “And you and I don’t have the same definition of pretty.”

She rocked slowly, drawing soothing circles on her belly, humming the tune Haymitch had taught her. Learning nurse rhymes and lullabies were on her list too but for now she was content with only that one. A part of her was impatient for that moment when she would sit there with her baby cradled close to her chest, rocking him to sleep. Another part of her was terrified.

“Hush little baby, don’t you cry…” she sang softly when she felt their son stir a bit too violently. He would kick her bladder again and she would have to rush to the bathroom and she was tired of that happening. “Mama’s gonna sing you a lullaby. Hush little baby, don’t say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird...”

She did have the best voice from the two of them but she couldn’t help a soft smile when Haymitch absentmindedly picked up the tune, so focused on what he was doing with that crib she hardly thought he was aware of even singing.

“If that mockingbird won’t sing, Papa’s gonna buy you a golden ring…” The crib was finally starting to look like a crib and he frowned, testing it by pushing down a little. “And if that golden ring turns to brass, Papa’s gonna buy you a looking glass. And if that looking glass gets broke, Papa’s gonna buy you a billy goat…” More like a pack of geese, she thought, as he distractedly went on with the song up until the crib looked done and secured and he reached out for her, brushing his knuckles against the swell of her stomach. “And if that horse and cart fall down, you’ll still be the sweetest baby in town.”

“I love you.” she grinned. “And you are cute.”

“I’m not!” he sputtered.

“Oh, yes, you are…” she insisted, her grin only deepening when the tip of his ears and the back of his neck started reddening. “You will be a doting father…”

“I’ll count myself lucky if the kid doesn’t end up hating me.” he mumbled, turning away from her.

“If he ends up hating one of us, it won’t be you.” she whispered, averting her eyes. They fell on the cat rag doll on the dresser, on the embroidered I love my mommy that she used as a reminder, and she forced a cheer in her voice. “Now, are you one hundred percent certain the crib won’t collapse?”

“No. I thought our boy would like it better if it broke.” he deadpanned. “More fun.”

She whacked him with her notepad. “I am serious.”

“Well, so am I.” he scoffed, testing the crib’s resistance by placing his heavy tool box in it. “See? It holds.”

She pursed her lips. “This box is filthy. Nothing filthy gets near my son. That includes your birds, by the way.”

“My birds aren’t filthy.” he argued. “And what about your dog? He fucking jumped in a puddle of mud this morning, you’ve seen the state of him?”

She had. Which was why he had been exiled to the backyard for the time being even though it meant the geese honked twice more as usual. She was hoping playing in the snow would wash some of the mud away.

“Snowball is not my dog.” she huffed. “I am not the one who was begging for a puppy like a five years old.”

“But you’re the one who corrupted him with your pretty baby bullshit.” he accused. “You made him a mama’s boy.”

“Oh, are we jealous, Haymitch?” she teased, cooing a little. She trapped his arm in hers and pressed a kiss on his shoulder, breathing in the smell of the woods that clung to the wool from his morning walk with Snowball.

“You stole my dog.” he muttered with a pout.

“I thought it was my dog.” she taunted but shook her head. “Do not be ridiculous. Snowball loves you.”

“Maybe.” he mumbled, burying his hands in his pockets. “But give him a choice and he will stay with you.”

“Because I am pregnant and he feels it is his duty to guard me.” She gently bumped her belly with his side. “Don’t you think he knows?”

Dogs knew things. And they had the smartest puppy in Panem. Of course, he knew.

“Yeah.” Haymitch agreed, smirking a little. “You get once the shrimp’s here, it won’t be our dog anymore, yeah? I bet whatever you want, the puppy will be all over him.”

A puppy this size all over her baby didn’t seem safe but she kept her tongue on that front for now. They could always teach Snowball to be careful. The puppy was a fast learner.

“Are you ready to bet chocolate chipped mint ice cream with maybe some whipped cream and a side of orange jam on grilled toasts?” she asked innocently. “Oh, and that hot chocolate with cinnamon they have at the coffee shop?”

“That’s very specific, Princess.” he snorted. “Is that a random bet or is it your way of saying you’re having cravings again and I’m gonna have to rush all around town to get all that?”

She raised on tip toes to press two kisses on his cheek and one at the corner of his mouth. “Please, please, please?”

She was dying for mint ice cream and hot chocolate. And toasts. With orange jam.

The cravings were hitting her late in the pregnancy, later than most women. They had been happening steadily for a week or so and if Haymitch had been amused at first by the few innocent requests during the day, he hadn’t been so amused when she had pitched a tantrum at three am because she wanted strawberries and there were none to be found in the dead of winter.

He made a face. “That’s a lot of sugar, sweetheart…”

“You kept saying I needed to fatten up.” she pointed out.

She was certainly fattened up now. Well… She still wasn’t huge by someone else’s standard but she was a tiny person and she felt like she was ready to explode. The fact that there were still three months to go was frightening.

“Yeah, put on some weight, not give yourself diabetes…” he commented.

She couldn’t stop a flash of annoyance from passing on her face at getting denied. “The baby wants it.”

“The baby wants to be healthy.” he countered and, because she had let go of his arm and was now openly glaring, he lifted both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Tell you what… You can have the ice cream and the hot chocolate but we drop the whipped cream and the jam.”

“I want the jam.” she growled. “On grilled toasts.”

Haymitch had never been good at admitting defeat but he knew for a fact she would brave the snow and trek into town herself if she had too. Cravings weren’t to be taken lightly.

“No whipped cream.” he insisted.

“Spoil joy.” she accused, pecking his mouth. “Hurry, I am starving.”

He rolled his eyes and breathed out a long suffering sigh to let her know just how impossible she was before stealing another kiss.

“You’ll be okay on your own?” he asked once they were downstairs and he was slipping on his coat. “I can stop by the kids’ and ask one of them to…”

“I will be fine.” she interrupted him firmly, as much to convince him as herself. She had hardly been left home alone since… Since Clay. “I am keeping Snowball anyway. He needs a bath.”

And she would be fine with her guard puppy. She had no doubt he would jump at the throat of anyone who would try to attack her.

“Don’t overdo it.” he warned.

The second he opened the back door, Snowball came rushing in, joyfully barking at being allowed back inside. She had to grab his collar to prevent him from running around. Even then, when he shook the water off his fur, he sent speckles everywhere. He was a mess of wet hair and tangled mud crusted fur.

“You are one very disgusting puppy.” she chided him. “Jumping in a puddle of mud like a ruffian. I expect more distinguished behavior from you.” The rebuke flew high over his head. He barked, wriggling his tail left and right in excitement, his head nuzzling her hand, pleading to be petted. When he realized Haymitch was heading out, he tried to follow but she held fast.  “Ah. Ah.” She clicked her tongue. “Bad puppies don’t get to go out. Bad puppies get baths.”

“Can’t wait for you to give the same lecture to our kid, sweetheart.” Haymitch snorted as a goodbye.

Convincing Snowball to follow her upstairs wasn’t terribly difficult, neither was ordering him to hop in the bathtub. Haymitch had laughed at her and claimed she would make the puppy soft by pampering him like that, he had mocked her when she had ordered boxes of dog shampoo from the city… But having made sure the dog accepted baths easily from the very first week had made it a lot easier to keep him clean.

He enjoyed it well enough even.

He had grown a lot in the eight weeks they had had him. He was bigger than most dogs one could find in the Capitol now.

It took her a good total of twenty minutes to clean him up, brush him, towel him and then blow dry his fur – easily his favorite part of the whole process, he liked to roll around while she did it.

She was really yearning for mint ice cream and her hot chocolate by the time she was done but Haymitch still wasn’t back. She wandered upstairs, looking for something to do…

Her eyes fell on the attic trap almost by accident. She had never been up there yet. She wondered what Haymitch stocked there before her mind flashed to years of boxed clothes she had bought for him and he had deemed too ridiculous or fancy for Twelve – she had given him dozens of suits every Game season but he had only kept the other stuff around the house: the comfortable pants and sweaters, the sweatpants, the underwear and only a few good jackets. With nothing else to do and unable to keep her nesting tendencies under check, she opened the trap and climb the pull down ladder – harder than she had thought it would be.

She panted for a bit once at the top, sneezing because of the amount of dust she had disturbed. Stuck at the bottom of the ladder, Snowball whimpered and then lied down, resigning himself to wait for her.

She struggled to find the switch and made a face once the old bulb slowly flickered to life.

The attic was a mess, messier perhaps than the rest of the house had been when she had moved in. There were a lot of boxes haphazardly piled up, some weren’t even properly closed, the cardboard was wavy… There was a damp musty smell and she wondered if the roof was leaking in some places because some of the boxes were stained at the bottom…

A quick check confirmed that the closest boxes were full of mostly still good clothes. Some clips from newspapers and pictures had been crammed with the suits he hadn’t wanted, making it somehow easy to identify to which year the box belonged. As far as she could tell, there was a box for each of her years as his escort. Before her time, it seemed none of the clothes that he had been given had pleased him because there were at least four or five for each season and she gave up on sorting that halfway through. She did find a picture of Haymitch and Chaff with their arms tossed around each other’s shoulders, grinning hard at the camera, looking not a breath older than twenty and twenty-five, that she pocketed absent-mindedly…

More interesting was the junk piled up at the far end of the mansard roof. She didn’t understand what it was at first, it was only when she walked closer, treading carefully because the floorboard was made of uneven rough planks, that she understood what she was looking at. Twisted metal and charred wood…

Burned furniture…

Burned furniture that had been gathering dust in the attic for almost twenty-eight years.

She reached for the closest piece of wood and then thought better of it, not certain the whole thing wouldn’t crumble at the softest of touch.

She identified a couple of chairs, what looked like a metallic child-sized bed frame, a crudely carved rocking horse cut in half… The rest she couldn’t quite make out but she was certain it had belonged to a small house in the Seam once upon a time. Her eyes kept darting back to the destroyed rocking horse and she couldn’t help but blink back tears at the thought of what had happened to his owner.

Haymitch’s brother had only been eleven. He would have had her age nowadays.

She reached for her stomach but the baby was asleep now, which she regretted. The closest box to the furniture was also clearly the oldest in the room. The cardboard was pliant under her fingers, defeated by humidity. She sat down to better look inside.

It didn’t contain much.

A few forks and knives warped by the heat of the blaze that had swallowed the house, some equally distorted knick knacks and a few blackened books with missing pages, covers or spines. She wondered how all that stuff had ended up there and her heart bled at the thought of a lost sixteen year old Haymitch haunting the charred remains of his family’s house, picking up everything he could find and clinging to those odd mementoes.

Her apartment had been ransacked enough during the war that there hadn’t been much of anything left for her to find when she had finally been released from the rebels’ custody. She understood what it felt like to lose everything: your belongings, your keepsakes, memories, objects that were sometimes the only thing you had left from someone now deceased… It had nearly destroyed her at thirty-five, she couldn’t imagine going through that at sixteen.

She shouldn’t have been going through those boxes. It was clear they hadn’t been touched in decades…

The next box she opened was from his old house too but more terrible in the sense that it was almost empty. She picked up a crumpled yellowish glassy paper before realizing it was a picture that had been half swallowed by the fire. Ironically enough, the only face that hadn’t melted on the picture was Haymitch’s – which was why it had been crumpled no doubt. He looked younger than she had ever seen him, around thirteen or fourteen maybe, boyish still yet not quite carefree…

There was a metal box that looked rusty but untouched by the flames and absolutely too chiseled for something coming from Twelve. She turned it around, not quite surprised to find the mark of a now out of fashion Capitol jewelry maker underneath. She struggled to open it, not quite surprised either to find two rings in there. One was shaped like an iris and had probably been destined to the woman who shared the flower’s name. The other was plainer, a spiral of dozens of smaller diamonds, so obviously an engagement ring that it made her rub her belly again, too aware that in another life, things might have turned out very differently. She closed the metal box and placed it back down. Those were gifts that Haymitch had never had an opportunity to give…

She found various yellowed sheets of paper, half burned or torn away, pressed into an empty notebook. Numbers mostly, grocery lists, single words that made no sense without the context the missing parts would have afforded… It took her a minute to realize it was probably his mother’s handwriting. Likewise, she found a faded blue exercise book that had clearly belonged to his brother. Hayden Abernathy. The name was written on the inside in neat pointy letters.

She brushed the tips of her fingers against it, wishing with all her heart things had been different. No matter what it would have meant for the two of them… Haymitch would have been much happier not being the example. If he had only been allowed to keep his family…

She placed the exercise book aside and reached for the last item, an old warped tin can that might have belonged in a kitchen at some point. She opened it, expecting… something, anything… but not ashes.

She almost dropped the box.

“It’s not them.”

She startled and jumped, only managing by sheer reflexes not to spill the contents of the box. She placed a hand on her chest, trying to convince her heart to stop hammering as she glared at Haymitch.

“Do not creep up on me like that!” she snapped.

“I banged the door, the dog made a racket and I fucking called you three times.” he snarled, just as irritated as she was. “What the hell are you doing snooping around here anyway?”

Had he called her? She had been so wrapped up in this weird moment…

He was tense, in full fight or flight mode, and she licked her lips, her annoyance fading, knowing she needed to tread carefully.

“I was not snooping.” she denied.

“Could have fooled me.” he sneered.

“I apologize. I truly did not mean to intrude. I just… I saw the boxes and… I didn’t realize what these ones were until I had opened them.” She put the lid back and cautiously placed the box down where she had found it before trying to get up – something far more difficult than it used to be.

He hauled her up with a hand at her elbow and the other under her armpit, his face unreadable.

“Your snack’s downstairs.” he told her and turned away without a single look for the burned mementoes of his past.

He went down first and made sure she walked down the ladder without problem but he didn’t say a word. She tried to lighten the mood once they were in the kitchen and she spotted the chocolate chipped mint ice cream, the orange jam and the steaming cup of hot chocolate with cinnamon branded with the Clarkes’ coffee shop logo, thanking him cheerfully by kissing the corner of his lips. He suffered the kiss but didn’t encourage her to do more or joke about how cheap a date she was.

He grabbed the second cup that had been abandoned on the counter and sipped from it, paying her no attention as he watched the backyard through the window over the sink. She could smell the rich flagrance of black coffee from where she was sitting but she didn’t complain, spooning some ice cream directly from the tub instead. His back was on her, tension obvious in the line of his shoulders, and she bore it as long as she could.

The clever approach would have been to drop the matter entirely, to pretend nothing had happened and let him come back to her on his own terms, once he would have calmed down. That was what she would have done a few months earlier, not force the issue in fear he would run away from her.

But since the baby…

They had been good at talking the issues through – well, maybe not good but at least they had been trying. And that was a particular issue she had though he had laid to rest.

“Those ashes…” she ventured eventually.

“Told you. It’s not theirs.” he cut her off with a warning growl. “Probably not, anyway.”

“Haymitch…” she said, taking pain to keep her tone neutral.

“Their bodies were charred, alright?” he spat. “The mayor said… They buried little more than bones. I don’t know what I was thinking… I just grabbed what I could before they cleaned up to build another shack. And I thought… I thought… In the off-chance that…”

The pain in his voice was much more than she could handle, the way it broke even though it had been decades…

She moved in a flash, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek between his shoulder blades. “I understand.”

He untangled himself from her arms and took his distance. “No, you don’t.” He shook his head. “You don’t.”

“Alright.” she offered, lifting both hands in a peaceful gesture because she could see he was getting worked up and because she wasn’t sure they hadn’t moved right out of upset and right into trigger territory. “I am sorry. I should not have…” 

“No, you shouldn’t have.” he sneered, rubbing his eyes. “I need some air.”

“You just came home.” she argued.

“You want me to spell it, fine, then I need some space.” he snapped.

He grabbed his coat and slammed the door and she was left staring at it, not sure if she should follow or not.

She just hoped he wouldn’t go straight for a bottle.

At some point, the children arrived for dinner but their happy chatter slowly vanished when they realized Haymitch wasn’t going to show up. She invented an excuse, something about someone needing his help with a fence – a ridiculous flimsy excuse they saw right through in about a minute – and declared they should eat without waiting for him.

By ten, he still wasn’t back and Peeta tactfully asked if she wanted him to look around for him – at the bar was implied but not uttered.

“I am sure he is fine.” she promised again and again, to the children and then, once they had left, to the puppy and their unborn son.

She went ahead with her nightly routine, taking her time in the shower, hoping against all odds that he would be waiting for her in the bedroom when she would walk out of the bathroom. He still wasn’t back when she got into bed, so she exceptionally allowed Snowball to climb in with her, needing the cuddles the dog was always too happy to provide.

The baby was restless once more, having a mad party in her uterus, kicking and rolling.  

“Shh, he will come back…” she whispered, slipping a hand under her nightgown to stroke the tight skin of her belly. “That’s the thing about your father… He always comes back. Hush little baby don’t you cry…”

She hoped to calm the baby but she ended up singing herself to sleep…

She felt the light touch of his fingers brushing her hair away from her face and her eyelids fluttered open. He was wandering around the room, trying not to wake her as he grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the drawer. A glance at the clock confirmed it was late, past midnight.

“Go back to sleep.” he muttered when he realized she was watching him.

“Did you drink?” she asked, unable to hold it up any longer, just as he lifted the covers up to get in bed.

He froze. “Seriously, Effie?”

It wasn’t such a stupid question in her opinion.

“I was worried.” she argued. “I thought maybe… Where did you disappear to, then?”

His face closed up and he tossed the covers back down with a sneer. “Where my old house used to be.”

“Oh.” she winced, feeling like an idiot. He snatched his woolen dressing gown from where he had tossed it at the foot of the bed that morning and turned away. She sat up, confused. “Where are you going?”

“To sleep on the couch.” he declared.

“No, Haymitch, don’t be ridiculous…” she pleaded but he was already gone. Snowball hesitated for a moment and then jumped off the bed and paddled after him.

She was reasonably certain the issue wouldn’t be forgotten the next morning and she didn’t really know how they had gotten there.

A few hours earlier he had been singing lullabies to her stomach and now…

Now it was a mess again.

[athena1138]

work rant

I'm not the perfect employee, like at all, but can someone tell me how I lost employee of the month (after:  going out of my way to help buy a resident something she needed, bringing in 40ish of my own personal books for a resident to read to help her feel loved, sitting down with multiple residents just to keep them company because they were lonely, not to mention DOING MY ENTIRE JOB EVERY SINGLE SHIFT,) to an employee who literally does nothing but cause problems for the rest of us? ((The award is voted on by residents.))

Like. Since she started, she has: 

1.) Complained because we "didn't have enough to do," so now on every single shift we have an additional 4+ menial busywork jobs that we already didn't have time for. Which she doesn't even fucking do. 

2.) Straight up doesn't try to read our nurse's notes. Which, her writing is fucking impossible to read, but it's important information a lot of the time. This bitch doesn't even try to ask someone to help her with it. Just ignores it. 

3.) Because she doesn't read the nurse's notes, she failed to notice and abide by a request to take a resident's vitals every morning after breakfast. It's been over a month and she hasn't done it once. 

4.) She's been treating our newest resident like shit because this resident is obese (like. 550lbs, easily.) and suffering from obesity related illnesses and is basically dying. Like, the resident needs help changing her bottoms. Fine, that's fine, not totally unusual. It's definitely not outside what we can do. This employee snootily said she "makes her do it all herself." ???? McFuckinScuseMe? Like I just. I'm still flabberghasted. 

5.) She bitches every day about being at work and how she doesn't wanna be there and blah blah blah. Like, y'all, I complain a lot, but I've never said that I didn't want to be there except on very rare occasions like I'm not feeling well or I'm excited to do something at home. 

6.) The other night? I came in for my midnight shift. Every single light was left on. There were our books and pens and her drink left sitting out at the front desk. All the trash was left. So, I was like, Ok, she's dealing with a resident. Cool. And I sat and started reading our comm log and waited. And waited. And waited. Half an hour later, I got worried, so I went and ran the whole building because I was thinking maybe she'd fallen down the stairs or maybe a resident was injured or or or. Nah. She was just talking to a resident. Which, as I mentioned before, isn't a big deal. Our residents get lonely. Except, as the employee was leaving for the night, she said, "I didn't get around to taking out the trash, so if you could be a doll and get it for me, that'd be great." And I, Becca NonConfrontationalPeoplePleaser Eileen, fucking did it for her. 

7.) We have another RA who only comes in once or twice a month. Idrk why, but it’s good for if we all need a shift off or something. She came in yesterday, and like. A LOT of shit can happen in a month, yo. You have no idea. And since she’s here so rarely, she usually does things a little wrong, writes a few too many messages for us. But it’s like. Once a month. She’s like a period, you just have to accept that it’s gonna happen. The employee in question just started bitching about every single one of the Monthly’s notes. I tried to be like, “Well, she’s not really here a lot--” And the bitch goes, “Well ***THIS*** hasn’t changed since even ***I*** started three months ago!” LIKE DUDE. THIS CHICK IS LITERALLY HERE. ONCE. A. MONTH. SHE HAS MORE SHIT TO FIGURE OUT THAN HOW TO WRITE AN ADEQUATE AMOUNT OF NOTES. I’d much rather have too many notes than not enough, frankly, so kudos to the Monthly. 

8.) Today, I stayed late to finish folding napkins because I got sidetracked and off schedule. Then a resident paged wanting her dog taken out, which is my absolute delight, so I said I'd do it. Walked the dog, sat down to go back to napkins, and a resident paged. It's a resident I'm meant to wake up at night to help to the bathroom, but last night she didn't want to go all 3 times I asked, so I knew that this page was her saying she'd had an accident and needed help. Ok, no problem, it's kind of my fault anyway. So I said I'd go get it. An hour. I was in there for an hour. The employee, WHO WAS ACTUALLY MEANT TO BE THERE, never came down to check if things were fine. I got the resident cleaned up, but then she turned around and said she wanted to take a shower because of her accident. 

I was like, "Ok, but I actually really have to go, I was supposed to leave 2 hours ago. Here, let's call [employee] down to help you, and while she's doing that, I'll get your bathroom all cleaned up, ok?" 

And we paged her down. She sees me waiting in the hall and gets this immediate stink eye and goes, "What?" 

I was like, "[Resident] wants to take a shower but I really have to go, fam." 

She's like, "I don't know how to do her showers." 

And tries to walkie the housekeeper who's been here a little longer. Whose housekeeping cart is literally within eyeshot of us. Housekeeper doesn't answer. Walkies again. No answer. So she huffs super big and goes storming down there while I go back in with the resident. Comes back, says, "She doesn't know either." 

I'm like, "Well, I'm sure [Resident] can walk you through it. She probably just needs you to keep an eye out, make sure she doesn't fall." She fucking, in front of the resident, just rolls her eyes and sighs and starts grabbing towels and things. Like?????? IN FRONT OF THE RESIDENT, DUDE?? I'm ***SORRY*** that I've been here now TWO HOURS past my time to leave HELPING YOU OUT and now you ACTUALLY have to do your job. 

I can go on. I really can. Medicine fuckups, clocking out consistently late for no reason, and all she does is talk shit. Like, I talk a lot of shit, but she TALKS SHIT. She'll talk shit about someone as soon as they walk out the room, whether they're residents, employees, or managers. Guys, she's even been talking shit about the RA who has been here for 3 years, whom everybody loves and adores, who knows her job inside and out and is GOOD at it, who loves each and every one of our residents, and who almost NEVER makes a mistake (and she's just a really cool person to boot. Like, I took a specific shift so we could hang out because I never get to see her because she's mostly AM shift.)

I'm not saying I wanted Employee of the Month, nor that I deserve it, really. But the fact that SHE'S the one who got it?? Yeah that's pissing me off. 

I know ranting does nothing, it won't change anything, I've never been one to win popularity contests. It's just. I'm just so mad. This bitch doesn't even like this job, but at least 2 of us are over here working our asses off, trying to do the most we can for these people because we genuinely like and love it here.