#cqnna

[12abernathy]

@cqnna & haymitch nation rise. CINNA & HAYMITCH NATION RISE ! THE CAPITOL IS NOT READYYY

[aliasinvestigate]

@cqnna called alias investigations.

jessica's skin is crawling. more specifically, the fabric climbing up the ladder of her spine & clinging between her shoulder blades, feels like a hundred fire ants going to town on her nervous system. she shoves a surreptitious hand at the hemline riding up her thigh, plucks at the strap under the slicing bone of her collar. goddamn trish. goddamn " undercover " investigation. how the hell anyone wears this shit is a mystery alias investigations has no vested interest in resolving. she hates these kind of shiny, veneer-grinning, glad-handing sorts of events ( & typically, she'd barrel through the door still clad in her trusty pair of jeans with all the threadbare denim gloriously in fuck-you contrast with the glitz & glamour of the rich & famous at leisure ). but needs must. & jessica is a good snoop.

a cloying smile so sweet it pits an ache in her teeth peels at her cheeks as she snags a champagne flute off a passing tray. the second the crisp white shirt is on the other side of her, her mouth sinks into its habitual, more comfortable scowl. she drains the glass of its frothy bubbles in one go & hobbles forward on the heels she'd pilfered out of trish's closet to the man situated in the far corner of the room ( okay ... the spindle of her shoe bobbles & maybe she has to admit this isn't her finest role. she offers up a silent expletive in favor of her well-missed doc martens that are so worn they can no longer keep residence around her ankles ). she's still all complacent, dull expressions on the approach, making wan greetings & feinting belonging at all the generational wealth & avant garde fashion types when she gets near.

" ------- you're a difficult man to pin down, " she says, blunt as a butter knife. " but i think you're going to want to hear what i have to say. "

[toprey]

the glamour isn't all it's cracked up to be. the limelight, the spotlight, the ever-persistent stares. the expectations, the weight, the perpetual leash and collar. here, in the world of fashion, mari dai is somebody. rather, she's nobody, who used to be everybody, and now recruiters would prefer to eat themselves alive before hiring her. one minute, you're in. the next minute, you're out. all it takes is one snag on the runway, one snap of a finger. a scar, sliced through the perfection of her features. what was once, no longer is, and therein-lies a neglect that she'll simply have to live with. c'est la vie; such is life.

CINNA [@cqnna] : "your secret is safe with me."

cinna is a style that won't go out of fashion. a staple in the wardrobe of life. he's determined, he's driven, he's damn talented to boot, and mari envies the slate that he's curated to succeed. (on the other hand, admiration is a synonym for jealousy. jealousy is an antonym to how she feels.) discerning the emotions gets harder by the days. figuring out her perspective gets more skewed by the minute. he's charming, he's coy, he's careful and compassionate— mari spews her secrets without thought. regret, she thinks, will come later.

mari looks up beneath shadowed lashes. tucks a dog-eared fold into the side of her sketch. the charcoal paves itself out onto the paper, etches into the wrinkles of clothing, and sprawls itself out to flowery beginnings. an ode to what could be. "right." her response is quiet. a touch bittered. she closes her journal, and slides it back into a nearby tote. "because th — that's how this industry works, now." her tone turns wry, dry with a sarcasm that interweaves through the sentence. her arms cross, stubborn. "look, just— cut the shit. what do you want?"

[walkpathe-arch]

@cqnna: sender takes care of receiver when they're sick.

one would think sobriety would be less miserable the second time around. and it would be dead wrong, because all of haymitch's insides feel like they're on fire. he shivers so hard he nearly knocks over the glass of water cinna has just put on the table for him. it's grueling, not even a bit easier than it had been while in 13. but haymitch has thrown away every drop of alcohol in the house himself, this time, more scared by the thought of dying now that he can see katniss and peeta live and grow into adulthood than he is of his own demons.

'' you shouldn't be here for this. ''

his words are gruff, teetering on the verge of unkind and his voice doesn't help matters: hoarse and strained, it sounds unpleasant. like gravel. yet, there's no venom in it, no acidic bite meant to force cinna out the door. the instinct to handle this alone is an old, well ingrained one, but he has come to know cinna at least well enough to understand that the man has a stubborn streak in him. his sorry state isn't enough to deter him, clearly. haymitch sighs, resigned. he still thinks that cinna should spend his time in twelve better than this, focus on his own healing instead of babysitting a — tentatively — recovering addict.

[intopearls]

she  knew  all  of  her  goodbyes  would  tear  greedily  at  her  chest.  apart  from  her  outlooks,  there  was  so  much  more  effie  would  need  to  strip  herself  of  before  setting  foot  back  in  the  capitol.   her  victors.  her  friends.   whoever  she  used  to  be.  officially,  she  came  by  to  drop  them  off;  each  to  their  own  little  house,  their  own  little  life,  tearily  making  sure  they  all  had  everything  they  needed.   she  wouldn't  be  around  to  take  care  of  them  anymore,  not  all  the  time.  it  comes  to  her  with  certain  shock:  cinna  will  stay.  &   goodness,  did  she  consider  it...

because  going  back  home  shouldn't  feel  this  difficult.  the  train  to  take  her  back  to  the  capitol  should  be  the  easiest  train  she's  ever  had  to  board,  &   yet...  effie  swallows  the  knot  on  her  throat.   katniss  had  promised:  she'd  find  the  life  of  a  victor.  and  effie...  well,  effie  would  find  out  what  her  life  could  become  in  the  absence  of  those  games.  surely  there  must  be  more  to  that  life  of  hers  than  televised  savagery.  it  begins  now.  but  first...

    @cqnna:  i'm  still  glad  i  met  you  . ⁽ ⋆ ⁾

she  hadn't  cried  before,  truly,  she  hadn't  —   unadultered  eye  makeup  wouldn't  let  her  lie.  it's  the  voice  of  a  friend  that  might  compell  her  to  it.  "   oh.  oh,  cinna...  "   effie  scoffs,  cheeks  flushed  from  twelve's  tormenting  breeze,  a  hiccup  escaping  her  lips.  she  conceals  her  pained  features  from  his  glare  with  arms  that  pull  him  into  an  embrace,  "   what  would  i  have  done  without  you?  "   a  sigh.  her  fate  then  could  be  compared  only  to  that  of  the  ones  that  stayed  behind.  yes,  effie  had  so  much  to  thank  him  for  —   her  palms  cup  his  face  as  she  pulls  back,  "   you  always  saw  me,  my  dear.  "   &   it  saved  me,  she  nods  slowly,  blinking  back  memories  of  fearsome  days  underground.  "  certainly  one  day  we  shall  know  what  life  looks  like  for  us  away  from  all  of  that.   but  even  until  then,  you  have  a  place  in  mine.   "

[everroots]

@cqnna said, there was nothing you could’ve done . ↪     ᵗʰᵉ 𝑫𝑼𝑺𝑻𝒀 𝑻𝑶𝒀𝑩𝑶𝑿 .    

THAT'S JUST THE PROBLEM THOUGH, ISN'T IT? she could have. she could have changed so many things, so many choices that would have prevented the suffering of those she loved, if she had just known. she would have just eaten those berries. the rebellion would have found another face, eventually. her family may not have been in the immediate crossfire. but katniss swallows this argument down, somehow afraid that it would disappoint cinna in the face of everything, and she cannot bear to do that. cinna, whose tremoring hand she clasps in both of her own, carries the scars of making her the girl on fire. who would she be if she made them seem meaningless?

“ i'm glad you're here, ” she whispers instead, because she has already traded apologies and they are the only words that don't feel like weighted lies on her tongue. even if looking at him hurts, springing reminders of the peacekeepers beating him as she rose into the arena of the quarter quell, he's alive. it's more than she had dared to hope for. the state he was in when he was rescued, what they did to portia and her team after . . . another daunting thought comes to her: how much does he know? of his friend, of peeta...

a lump of coal thickens in her throat and she tucks her chin down to their enterwined hands, willing the burn in her sinuses away. cinna promised not to cry in front of her, the least she can do is hold up her end of the deal. and if nothing else, she can blame the residual ache in her ribs. his was the room she marched straight for as soon as she was discharged. hearing he was awake was the best news she'd gotten since before she left for two. something else occurs to her, and it makes the corners of her lips pull up, feeble. “ your suit saved my life. ” beautiful, brilliant cinna, always looking out for her.

[evierdeen]

♡ !!!!!

- ̗̀   PRE - ESTABLISHED  RELATIONSHIPS.      /      @cqnna​    (  always  accepting  )  !

FRIENDS.          childhood  friends  /  work  friends  /  family  friends  /  recently  friends  /  turning  antagonistic  /  turning  into  something  romantic  /  stable  /  falling  apart  /  friendship  of  need  /  friendship  of  circumstance  /  pen - pals  or  internet  friends  /  co - workers  /  partners  /  other.

ROMANCE.          childhood  sweethearts  /  newly  entered  /  soulmates  /  skinny  love  /  unrequited  from  my  muse’s  side  /  unrequited  from  your  muse’s  side  /  friends  with  benefits  /  awkward  /  fading  /  turning  toxic  /  toxic  and  destructive  /  other.

FAMILIAL BOND.          sibling  bond  /  older  sibling  figure  to  your  muse  /  younger  sibling  figure  to  your  muse  /  parental  figure  to  my  muse  /  parental  figure  to  your  muse  /  guardian  figure  /  legal  guardian  /  other.

ENEMIES.          dangerous  to  themselves  /  dangerous  to  others  /  unpredictable  /  passionate  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing  into  sexual  tension  /  developing  into  romantic  tension  /  based  off  of  family  matters  /  based  off  of  circumstance  /  based  off  of  professional  matters  /  based  off  of  misunderstandings  or  lies  /  other.

[homebehindarchive-blog]

‘ by yourself, alone? ’ ( for madge ! )

          ALONE is a state she’s no stranger to : loneliness is a familiar malady, as familiar as her mother’s headaches had once been. she’d numbed it with music, poured it all out into piano keys and pretended (for a while) that it wasn’t there, but when the music faded it had always come rushing back. (and unlike mother’s headaches, the fire had not burned her loneliness away.) “not quite,” she says, glancing at the train meant to take her to the capitol, whisk her away from here and straight into a war-zone. “they’re sending peeta in. i’m going with him.” not that it’s much better, these days, than being alone : peeta’s half a stranger, now. “i was supposed to go in weeks ago with the rest of them, but….i guess coin had other ideas.” soldier undersee is a title that still fits strangely on her shoulders, but if she shrugs herself into it, it can be enough. she can make it work. she can get peeta to the capitol and to katniss, she can try to help the rest of them in what little way she can.) “anyway, it’s not like i’m not used to it,” she says, the grim little smile something of a trademark, now. ever since twelve and the fire. ever since she survived. “being alone. it doesn’t bother me.” a lie, but….a friendly one. “you’ll….be alright here, right?” 

( watership down : accepting ! )