I Had This Cute Thought In My Head, Basically Vanessa Is Sitting In The Living Room Reading (maybe A

I had this cute thought in my head, basically Vanessa is sitting in the living room reading (maybe a book about self care and how to raise a kid) then Gregory comes, she asks how he’s doing but he says nothing, he then goes behind her undoes her ponytail and pretends her hair is a mustache on his face, meanwhile Vanessa just goes along with it and laughs to herself.

they r so precious to me

❛ You’re okay. You’ve just been asleep for a few days. ❜

CATCHING FIRE (2013) SENTENCE STARTERS

★ — For lack of a better term, Gregory wakes up feeling like shit.

Every inch of his body aches. Limbs feel as if they're made out of lead, heavy and bearing him down into the cushion he's only vaguely aware he's laying on top of. Every breath is conscious, a battle against the weight pressing down on his chest. It's a monumental amount of effort just for him to lift his head, trying to look in the direction of Michael's voice. The movement makes his stomach churn.

Gregory whines in lieu of a real response. It sounds pitiful.

Saying he feels like he was hit by a bus might be an understatement. And not horribly far from the truth of the matter, considering the last thing he remembers — the soft clack of something hitting the dirt behind them, both of them turning and just as quickly Michael pushing him towards the ground and covering him with his own body before the grenade exploded.

The memory momentarily makes Gregory panic ; with some hassle ( the movement almost frantic ), he rolls to face the other direction ( towards where he assumes Michael is ), where he sees a familiar head of dark hair sitting just in front of him.

"What ... happened?"

Voice is scratchy from disuse, and he's squinting against the sunlight streaming in through the windows. Windows. He can barely see a flash of blue glancing at him in a mirror. The cushion underneath him. The soft rumble ringing in his ear, shaking his makeshift bed. This is a car .... how'd they get a car?

" ... where?"

They'd been so close — they shouldn't have needed a car. Gregory tries to sit up, rolling his knees up and under his torso, but a wave of nausea overtakes him and he presses his face into the seat with a groan instead. His mind is foggy, bits and pieces missing, faces of people talking to him but he just can't reach out and understand what they had been saying. He just remembers being scared.

....

.... not for himself. He'd been scared for Michael.

"The fireflies, they .... they were there."

( that's who had thrown the grenade. he remembers, the symbol on their uniform ).

"Where —— where're they? .... Where ar'we?"

He gives up on trying to sit up. Instead, flops back down onto the seat, lets himself roll into the corner. Stares at Michael as he drives, his own breathing heavy as he starts to fully come to.

" .... what'd'you mean a few days?"

consume.

forcing myself to take a break. does anyone want asks

❝ who did you insult this time ? ❞ tlou au

CATCHING FIRE (2013) SENTENCE STARTERS ( I think? )

★ — "Who said I insulted someone? Was it Liz?"

Doesn't come across as the denial that Gregory intends it to be — instead a quick shift of the blame, changing the subject and pointing a finger in another direction as if he'll have the guts to call Elizabeth out for being a snitch even if it was her. His brows are furrowed, nose beginning to scrunch up in some show of distaste and yet he won't make eye contact with Michael as he pulls his shoes off and swings his bags down.

The first sign might be that he's home late from the school building. Gregory was usually quick to head home after ( what felt like, at least ) mandatory socialization. He made it no secret that he preferred to be in the company of his guardian as opposed to literally anyone else. The second might be the mud on his shoes ; the kind that only really stuck around by the front gate of the commune at this time of year.

Doesn't help that word travels fast in a community this small ; gossip was entertainment, and who better to gossip about than the newcomers who didn't fit in.

"I didn't — I was just saying I could help. Y'know, with patrols. S'probably a better use of my time than school."

A huff. He's scowling now, still not making eye contact. It's been —— not an argument between him and Michael, but a source of disagreement. And Gregory is essentially admitting to going behind his back regarding it. He shrugs. As if it's no big deal.

" .... and they told me no. So I said they were stupid, 'cause they are. I mean, they let Oswald go out, and the only reason that guy hasn't shot someone on accident is pure luck."

“My name is Bonnie, I play guitar in the band, don’t you forget who I am”