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#tumblr wouldn’t let me post the other colors and idk why
jeansmanythings · 1 year
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dykes against capitalism! poster designed by me.
originally posted on my Instagram in more colors!
if you repost tag my Instagram!
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YOU THERE!!!!!! TUMBLR USER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Are YOU tired of how Tumblr treats trans people, particularly transwomen and transfemmes? Are YOU tired of how Tumblr treats people of color, particularly black folks? Are YOU tired of fandom trying to police the madeup bullshit you like to draw, write, or read about? Are YOU tired of all this fucking AI bullshit? Are YOU looking for a new online home to settle in?
Consider Pillowfort.social!
I’m not going to go into the nitty-gritty of how Pillowfort functions, because others have talked about that and explained it much better than I can (I recommend reading @/vergesm’s post here for a more general Pillowfort overview). What I’m going to do is explain what I, personally, get out of Pillowfort and why I enjoy it.
To preface, I’m not being paid to make this post or promote Pillowfort or anything. I wouldn’t think that needs to be said, but people make things up sometimes so idk. I’m writing pro-Pillowfort propaganda because I genuinely like the place and want to see it thrive. If you want to take a look at my own fort and get a feel for the place, you can do so here.
So with that out of the way – let’s talk about it!
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Pillowfort is quite a bit like Tumblr, in that it’s a blogging platform, but it’s got a few things that make it better than this hellsite imo. For one thing, you can post NSFW content there. Although I don’t draw much explicit stuff, it’s nice to be able to post art there without worrying I’ll get shadowbanned for a picture that’s just a lil too suggestive. It's nice to know that the option is there. Honestly, it’s freeing not to have to worry about that shit. And it’s also really cool that there’s a built-in system for marking certain posts as NSFW, because as well as being able to mark your own posts as NSFW, you can choose whether you want to see other people's posts marked as NSFW. And for minors, the ability to see NSFW content is automatically turned off. Pillowfort’s got a really good system for both allowing NSFW content and keeping it away from people who don’t want to see it. I really like that flexibility, and how that flexibility isn't detrimental to the users.
And speaking of being able to see or not see certain content, the content filtering is pretty solid. You’re able to block tags and even words in the body of a post, and like I said, you can control whether you want to see posts marked as NSFW. You can even control who sees your own posts! There’s blocking users, of course, but you can limit who sees your own posts even further than that. You can make them visible to anyone, visible only to logged in Pillowfort users, visible only to your followers or mutuals, or hell, even visible to you alone!! It’s cool to have that level of control, and I find it reassuring to know I have those options.
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Another big appeal of Pillowfort, for me, is the userbase’s strong “don’t like don’t read” policy. A lot of the people there operate under the mindset of “as long as it’s fictional, whatever dude. I don’t have to like it, but you do you." There are still dipshits, of course, but it’s WAY better than the insane purity culture that’s developed here. I don’t have to worry about some wannabe-conservatives telling me I’m just as bad as Ted Bundy for [checks notes] sexualizing Michael Myers or some shit. Plus, this general userbase mindset is backed up by actual site policy! I’ve heard that Pillowfort is very swift in responding to reports of harassment – whether it’s fandom-based harassment or bigotry. I haven’t had any experience with this personally (and hopefully it’ll stay that way), but I’ve heard good things about it, and it makes me feel more comfortable being there.
Also, did I mention Pillowfort has an explicit anti-AI policy? AI generated images and writing are banned on the website, and staff made this decision once its userbase and community made it clear that they wouldn’t welcome that sort of shit. And GOD, does it make me feel so fucking good as a writer and artist to know that.
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And that’s another thing – Pillowfort staff actually fucking listens to its userbase. The website is crowd-funded and relies on subscriptions and monthly donations to keep things running. And because it relies on its community, it relies on keeping the community happy. So complaints, bug reports, suggestions and alterations and things the users would like to see on the site – it’s all taken pretty seriously. And again, it’s just really nice to know that the staff of the place actually give a shit and are looking out for its community rather than trying to suck the dick of the biggest investor.
Really, the only problem I have with Pillowfort is the fact that it’s a bit small. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because the people there are lovely. But since a lot of people aren’t happy with Tumblr, and haven’t been happy with Tumblr for some time, I thought I’d just ask you guys – maybe consider it. Consider making a Pillowfort account. Consider making your own little fort, stringing up some colored lights and cool art and making yourself cozy. Consider offering some money, if you can spare it, because it’s genuinely a really cool place that I want to spend more time in and see prosper.
So far, I’ve had a lovely time there. It’s cozy and friendly and it feels like one of the few places where a queer artist like me is actually welcome. And I think a lot of Tumblr users might really like it too.
I hope to see you there! 💜
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Violet and Ray Wedding Questions (Movie verse)
yeah so ray and i are getting married and all the details including pictures is under the cut!
i got these questions from some tumblr post forever ago abt marrying ur f/o idk
Imagine what music you'd have? What food? Would it be outside? What kind of theme, if any, would you have?
Ray made a whole playlist months before he even proposed cuz he’s a babe. The food options would be pretty traditional - steak, chicken, or seafood (Ray wants the steak, I want the seafood, we thought it was weird only having two options). It’ll be inside a hotel (that just happens to be haunted but like that’s not why we chose it, what are you talking about) but it’ll have a great view of the autumn foliage in the town square of Salem, Massachusetts. 
Who would they invite? Who would you invite?
Winston is best man Janine is maid of honor peter can come too I guess
What season is it? Day or night? What colors do you wear?
Autumn! Evening into night time (the ceremony will begin at sunset). The colors are burgundy and champagne. 
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Is it traditional or do you do something wild?
Does the fact that it’s a hotel that’s notoriously haunted in a town that’s famous for its macabre history count as “wild”? Cuz besides that it’s pretty traditional.
Did you write your own vows? Who is the priest/priestess/minister marrying you? Or is it a family member or other platonic F/O?
My baby would write his own vows. My sweet, romantic boy. I think someone from a coven he knows could marry us! Neither of us is religious, but we both have a strong connection to the Occult community (him more so than me because I'm just starting out with my witchcraft when we get married).
Are you wearing suits? Dresses? Something else entirely?
I’m wearing this super cute cap sleeve ball gown with lace top and tulle skirt with a ribbon around the waist. Ray is wearing a white shirt, burgundy tie, black suit with vest.
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What is your cake like if you have one?
Okay look I INSISTED on chocolate and Ray was like “alright I’ll let you have this one thing”. It has white frosting and deep red flowers to match the burgundy and champagne color scheme (this without the cake topper).
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Do you throw the bouquet for someone to catch or do you pass out one flower to everyone so you let everyone know they are worthy of love?
Yeah imma yeet that bouquet are you kidding shut the fuck up… the bouquet is cascading with red peonies, dark red carnations, and off-white roses.
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Do you have a party afterwards? What music? (You should totally make a playlist btw and daydream about stealing your new husband for a dance with every song)
Hey fuck the comics theres one good dancer in the ghostbusters and its the one im marrying also hes a good singer and hes gonna surprise me at our wedding by serenading me at the reception. 
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Is it the wedding of your dreams or does something go awry?
Yeah i shouldnt have let peter come… jk even he wasn’t that bad
Also! How is the kiss!? Do they smooch you softly? Sweetly? Passionately? Do you dip them into a deep smooch? Is it a soft sweet peck? Or perhaps a smooch that makes you excited for later when you are alone?
Bro… ray would dip kiss me. Like, he would!!! Dont tell me that cutie wouldnt
What is your honeymoon like? OwÚ
If u need to, need to reach us, you can call us, you know where we’ll be, TRANSYLVANNIA 6 5000
Is it a stay at home one? Do you go somewhere exciting? How long is your trip?
LITERALLY A HAUNTED CASTLE IN TRANSYLVANIA
Do you go to a zoo? Or stay at a hotel? Or maybe a cute little cottage somewhere?
We would probably spend the whole time exploring the castle and the woods around it. That is, the time we don’t spend exploring our bedroom.
If you stay at home do you just lie around in your pajamas?
Pajamas?
Do you do intimate things or if you’re ace soft and fluffy things to get closer?
A little of both, my baby is so sweet and romantic but i wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off it u know???
Do you gently treat them to what their body craves or do you do something like a puzzle to fuse your souls together over soft moments?
Or perhaps both!
Let’s just say our witchy baby girls were conceived right in Vampire Country.
Do you take their last name or they yours? Do you keep or hyphenate your names? Or maybe you both take on a whole new last name together!
We are Dr. and Mrs. Ray and Violet Stantz, forever.
How many kids do you have? What are their names?
We have two girls, twins, Sabina Stantz and Silvia Stantz. Sabina was born first. Her left eye is brown and her right eye is green. Silvia was second born and her left eye is green and her right eye is brown. Besides that, they are completely identical - long dark hair, round faces, strikingly similar to their father. Stunningly beautiful. Sabina got married first, her first baby was born in February 2021. Silvia went on to get her PHD in Parapsychology before getting married. They are both pagans, study the occult, and perform magic (along with their mother). The original Ray’s Occult Books, in Greenwich Village, is eventually run by them. The second location, right next to the Ghostbusters HQ, is run by our adoptive son, Podcast. 
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(Sabina)
Where do you live?
Violet buys back Ray’s parents’ house, the one he was born in, using the last of her money from her book sales and movie deals. It is relatively close to the book store they run together. This is the house she and Ray raise their children in.
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syndxlla · 3 years
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Part eleven of the More To Love series
Summary: You get a chance to reflect on who you are, where you are with your relationships, and what you really want in life with the help of your mother, the Queen of Corellia. You meet some new seemingly friends, who quickly prove you otherwise.
Word Count: 7.1k, NO USE OF ‘y/n’
Warnings: Non-consensual kiss, swearing, alcohol
Author’s note: i am LIVID. why tumblr only lets you have a certain amount of paragraphs in a post IDK! it’s dumb haha and the only reason i went over is because there is so much dialogue in this. BASICALLY. I am making the decision to go easy on myself. I know earlier today I said part 11 would be split into two, but i am going to just make the second half be part 12. SO. i made a new moodboard for this chapter! i hope you like it :).
i wanna say a big THANK YOU to @stinky-child for helping me edit this chapter and getting it out on time!
PART 12 WILL BE RELEASED THURSDAY, MAY 27TH AT 6pm PST, 9pm EST.
part ten
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Koska escorted you back to your quarters, the castle corridors were finally starting to calm down a little bit, however, more and more special guests who would be staying in the palace over the weekend walked in and out of doors, most of them not paying any attention to you because of your drab attire. You hoped the knight made it to his meeting on time and dry. There was no way to know until tomorrow morning, however. Koska was silent as she walked behind you, her footsteps much lighter than the knight’s. Your hair was thick and frizzy from the effects of the elements, and you kept your face down out of a foreign sense of shame.
Keeping your face down can’t hide that sense of shame from everyone, however, and before you can make it to your room, you’re hearing a joyful gasp and footsteps pattering in your direction. You look up from your walk of shame to see someone very important to you, it’s not your Knight, it’s not even Soniee, no. It’s your mother, the Queen of Corellia. She’s accompanied by three Corellian guards and she’s wearing the most beautiful yellow gown you had ever seen. It was clearly a gift from Bo-Katan. You smiled brightly, relieved to see someone you love. It had only been a few weeks but it felt like an eternity. You had completely forgotten she would be coming to your engagement ball. You’ve been so preoccupied with the plans and teaching the Knight how to dance that it completely slipped your mind. Your mother had a wide smile on her face, too, and wore the traditional Corellian crown. You ran to her and embraced her fighting around the waist, something that was not appropriate for royalty in public like this but you couldn’t care less. You had been so emotionally confused over the last few weeks that there was nothing you needed more than a fulfilling hug from your parent. She hums with joy when you come into her arms, and she runs her slender fingers through your beautiful hair. You sigh of relief in her embrace.
“I had forgotten you were coming.” You admit, holding back tears of relief. She chuckles in response.
“You look a mess.” She replies and you’re the one to chuckle this time.
“I’ve had quite the day.” You smile, blushing as you remember who you spent it with. “Come, I have so much to tell you.” You pull away, holding her hands in yours and then leading her to the closest sitting room. You were finally starting to understand the layout of the Mandalorian palace, it only took two weeks. This room was the same blue as the royal color, you guide her to sit by you on the sofa, and Koska awkwardly follows. You look over to the handmaiden before standing and walking in her direction. “Lady Reeves, you are dismissed.” You nod while speaking in a regal tone, but after stating it, your voice hushes and you whisper to her, “Is he going to be alright?” You ask in reference to the Knight.
She nods once, “Even if he was late, he’s bound to duty by the Queen, he’ll be okay.” Your stomach twists.
“What does that even mean?” You ask, there is much he is not telling you.
Koska sighs, she seemed to regret saying that. “I’ll worry about him, you enjoy your time with your mother.” She nods to the Queen who was patiently awaiting your return. You smile a “thank you” and walk back to the Corellian Queen. When Koska closes the door finally, you slouch into the couch, feeling pure relief as you were alone with your kin.
“You look absolutely exhausted.” Your mother says.
“I am, life here is exhausting. There are so many rules, much more than back at home.” You awkwardly shrug.
“We miss you.”
“I miss you too, more than you know.” You were so homesick these days. “I had to spend four days learning all the rules and customs and I still take private lessons from the literal queen so I don’t embarrass her anymore.” You roll your eyes, knowing that you couldn’t express this arrogance to anyone else in the palace and taking advantage of the chance now.
“Oh, I'm sorry love, I worried that there might be a bit of a culture shock.” She takes your hand with hers, stroking the stop of it with her own cold hands.
“Is father here?” You ask, your eyes hopeful. That glimmer immediately fades when she sighs, her eyes leaving yours. “What? What’s wrong?”
“He’s not coming…”
“What? Why?”
“He’s… sick, I didn’t want to tell you but it’s your right to know. You would have eventually found out anyway.” She somberly explains.
“Is he okay?”
“Yes, we think so. But traveling and socializing in his condition was not realistic. We understand that rumors will start, but his health is necessary before an impending war.” She frowns, and you try not to let it upset you too much. “Enough of that, tell me about this place.” Her tone immediately flips.
You smile, “It’s so hot, much hotter than Corellia. I mean the heat is exhausting and the dresses are heavy and the tea parties are always outside and I always feel overheated.” You complain.
“Do you at least like the prince?” She asks. “Is he cute?”
Now you must choose if you’re going to lie, like you have for the last fortnight, or be truthful with the only person you feel that you can be. You sigh, and just look at her, defeated, hoping that would be enough to tell her.
She hums empathetically. “Oh dear.”
“Yeah…” You sigh, happy she understood and you didn’t have to make the decision of communication.
“Well, keep your head up, I didn’t really like your father all that much until we had you.” She chuckles.
“What?” You ask, your eyes showing surprise. “I had no idea…” You weren’t sure how much you liked that thought, your parents had always been an example of a couple you’d like to experience for yourself. “Why had you never told me?”
“There was no reason for you to know before now. The older you get, the more you’ll learn what you need to hear.” She explains. You supposed she was right. “And remember, it’s supposed to be a partnership—marriage that is— it’s not so bad if you work at it.”
“Well, he certainly likes being solo.” You humph. “He’s very kind, and it’s clear he cares for his kingdom but-“ You knew you weren’t being completely truthful with her.
“But what?”
You debated your next words. You wanted to tell her, more than anything you wanted your mother to know what was really going on, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew she wouldn’t understand. This marriage is a diplomatic solution to an oncoming war of her home kingdom. She wouldn’t understand the strife. “Nothing.” You feel untruthful to yourself, but you can’t do anything about it. “I just feel like I will be unhappy in our marriage.”
“Marriage isn’t supposed to make you happy.”
You hated that, it wasn’t the first time she had said it to you, either. When an arranged marriage was first brought up, she said it then for the first time. The other time she said it to you was about three weeks ago, just before you were going to leave Corellia and come to this ornate prison. It was your last attempt to try and get out of it, but she uttered those words and you had to live with it.
This time, you pulled your hand away from hers. “But what about love? I thought you loved my father!?”
“I do love him, but that didn’t happen for a long time, like I said, not until you were born.”
“So then what’s the reason for all this? For sending me here for a big ball and a fancy wedding if I am not supposed to love the man I’m sharing these parties with? How am I to enjoy marriage before children then?” You stand up on these words out of frustration. You hated feeling like your only purpose in this world is to bear children, to produce an heir.
“Love between royals is not a natural thing, it can’t just happen between any two people. There must be that connection there and it often isn’t developed for a while.” She chuckles. “What? Did you think you were going to live inside one of those fairytales your wet nurse used to tell you before you went to sleep?” She asks, looking up at you, surprised.
“What do you mean ‘between royals’?”
“We must do what’s best for our people, it’s selfish to marry for love when you are royalty.”
You feel defeated.
“No… No, there's so much more to love. Love is not selfish, in fact, I believe that loving someone with our hesitation and unconditionally is the most selfless act one could ever do.” Your voice raises just a bit. You meant every word you said.
“If you feel this way about love, then surely you must love the Prince. What’s the problem then? We’ve been preparing you for this reality for years, it’s not a new concept that you would not love immediately, I can only imagine you would feel so emotionally because you have those feelings for someone.”
Did you?
You consider what she was saying, your eyes trailing to the side as you thought. You supposed she was right, there would be no reason for you to feel so passionately about it if you hadn’t experienced it for yourself.
But you weren’t having that experience with Korkie, the hell you weren’t.
Did you love the Knight? You don’t know his name, you don’t know his face, you don’t know anything about him and yet you are starting to think that infatuation has grown into adoration. Your legs feel weak, and you have to slowly lower yourself onto the couch again, feeling woozy from the realization. How did you let it get so far? Your confused face turns to look at your mother’s, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly open.
“I sense you realized something you didn’t already know.”
You slowly nod your head. Unsure of how to react, you fiddle with your fingers, trying to gain your bearings again. You expect your mother to speak up but she never does.
Before the conversation continues, however, the door is pulled open and three Knights are walking in, a Butler steps in, “Her Majesty, The Queen.” He says before nodding and stepping away. Bo-Katan glides into the room, regal as ever. You and your mother stand up from where you sat, curtsying for your hostess.
“Your Majesty.” She takes your mother’s hand, both of them smiling and kissing one another on either cheek. “I trust your travels were comfortable?”
“Yes, your coachmen were very hospitable.” Your mother nods.
Korkie then enters the rooms with another young Prince who you hadn't met before. He was blonde, and skinny as a twig. He wore a white and gold ceremonial cloak that covered his right shoulder. You smile at Korkie out of Obligation, and he and the other prince bow to the women in the room.
“Princess!” Korkie cheers, “This is my cousin, Prince Hugo of Bespin.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” He takes your hand and kisses the top of it, his smile charming and blue eyes bright. You were flattered by the gesture, humming.
“The pleasure is mine.” You follow royal protocol. Then, another woman enters the room. She’s tall, an intricate headpiece adorns long, black hair and she has hypnotic, black eyes hidden by deep set, hooded eyes. She’s beautiful, with toned skin and red dots drawn under her lips making her stand out from everyone in the room.
“Ah, Her Majesty Queen Clarya of Naboo.” Bo-Katan introduces. The Elven Queen Ahsoka then enters the room, and everyone, even the Queens bow out of respect before the door is closed. The parlor is suddenly very full, and your intimate moment with your mother is lost entirely. You are suddenly very aware of your disheveled look, and try to run your fingers through your hair a few times.
“It’s lovely to finally meet you.” Clarya says, smiling. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Taking your hand and giving you a friendly squeeze.
“Oh… I’m afraid I haven’t heard much about you.” You apologize.
“No troubles, You are all the gossip among the other Kingdoms.” The eastern queen explains.
“Yes, It appears you are.” Korkie says, moving to stand by your side. “How wonderful that my beautiful wife-to-be is regarded so highly across the world.” He tries to take your hand but you pull it away, not necessarily meaning to, but it was a reflex that you failed to suppress after realizing you were in love with an entirely different man. He clears his throat, and the aura in the room is awkward, you aren’t sure what to do, so you just say the first thing to come out of your mouth.
“Have any of you gone to the beach? It’s lovely!” You awkwardly smile before walking over to the drink cart underneath a portrait of a Manda’lor of a past generation. You try to ignore all the people, feeling a little embarrassed that they were all seeing you dressed like this. You didn’t even think of what suspicion could be born out of that phrase.
“Oh yes, our sandy beaches are widely loved by all.” Bo-Katan takes a seat on the sofa in the place you had sat at just moments before, crossing her ankles under her gown. You shakily pour amber liquid into a crystal glass, your hand shaking as you bring it to your lips, taking a sip of the alcohol.
“Nothing like the Corellian beaches, I assume?” Your mother asks. “Our beaches are rocky and often frozen over.”
“Ah yes, but the Corellian ship fjords are lovely, what a wonderful exposure to culture you raised your daughter with!” Ahsoka sings.
“She turned out alright.” Your mother teases and everyone chuckles warmly. You turn around after drinking, and sheepishly smile. Gods you hope she meant that.
“Well, we are all very excited for the ball tomorrow.” Clarya says, “My assistant worked on a mask for hours the night before we left. It will be an extravagant sight to see everyone dressed so festively.”
“Of course, but we all know none of us can compare to the fashion and extravagance of the Naboolians.” Korkie hums. Everyone chuckles again. You nervously looked out to all of them, you had just made possibly the biggest mistake of your life and none of them paid any attention to you despite it. You had just shown Korkie your first and only sign of true disinterest the night before your engagement ball and you desperately wished you could go back in time and take his hand instead of denying the act of affection, even if you didn’t feel good about it.
“I think you will all be pleased to hear that it was the Princess who came up with the Masquerade idea.” Bo gestures to you. You smile with your teeth, trying to act normal and not like you were secretly dying inside. There is general amusement when that is said, and you can’t help but fidget with the crystal alcohol glass, wanting to leave the room and return to the comfortable embrace of the Knight on the beach.
“Beautiful and smart!” Korkie’s cousin laughs, putting emphasis on the ‘and’. “It’s not every day you find a woman like that!” Everyone laughs again, and this time you force out a faux chuckle to seem more involved in the eyes of the others. “You better hang onto her, Kork!” Korkie smiled at his cousin's words, looking over to you. You feel weak, not liking all the attention. If this much attention was making you feel this way, what would the ball with hundreds of guests tomorrow night be like?
“Yes but, I can’t seem to remember going to the beach with you?” Korkie asks, his diplomatic voice cutting through the laughter. You nervously laugh. He knew something was up. How could you be so careless?
“What? Did I say something about the beach?” You try to play it off cluelessly.
“Oh come on, we all know you aren’t that ditzy.” His cousin groans
“Your fiance asked you a question, dear.” Your mother prods.
“Yes, did you go to the beach sometime during your time here?” Bo-Katan is the one to ask this time, and your legs are starting to feel unsteady.
“It’s not a bad thing, we just want to know.” Korkie takes a step in your direction, making you feel closed in. “We all love the beach here and we are happy you have gotten the chance to enjoy it.” You sensed there was an undertone with his true meaning.
You weren’t sure if you believed him when he said this, “Is it hot in here?” You chuckle, “I think I’ll have another drink, would you like one, Korkie? You ask before turning around and pouring another glass of brandy. He can see how shaky your hand is as you try to fill the cup. He stands behind you, wrapping his arm around you and cupping your hand with his in an attempt to make the pouring more steady. The action startles you, and you flinch as a reaction, dropping the crystal glass in your hand. It was already partially full, and it falls down to the floor in slow motion, golden drink splashing out of it as glass shatters on impact, making a loud, crashing sound that sends shards out across the floor and leaves a puddle of alcohol to soak into the bottom hem of Koska’s sister’s dress. The women of the room gasp from shock, and Hugo walks quickly over to see the mess. You look down at the glass in shock of what you just did, your heart sinking and stomach churning. Lady Tano is the next one to walk over to you, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you to one of the arm chairs, helping you sit down. The room was deathly silent now, you could hear your pulse ringing through your ears. Ahsoka crouches before you, ruling your hand with hers and trying to comfort you from the unexpected shock. Korkies hands are balled into fists. Was he angry with you?
“No worries.” Hugo laughs, trying to be an entertainer, “Butler!” The Butler opens the door.
“Is everything alright?” He asks after bowing.
“Yes, we just made a little mess, would you be so kind as to clean it up?” Hugo walks Korkie, who seems to be just as shocked and embarrassed as you, over to another armchair. The butler snaps and then whistles and three young maids come in, each one getting on their hands and knees to pick up the pieces of glass.
“Princess?” Your mother says, “Do you have something you would like to say to the Manda’lor?” She awkwardly asks, clearly trying to make good from the situation, side-eying Bo.
Your pale face turns to look at Bo, who had that same disappointed frown that you always see on her.
“My deepest apologies, your Majesty.” You clear your throat before painfully looking over to where Korkie sat, his hand resting in his palm and expression down turned.
“Well!” Hugo takes the center of the room. “No use in sitting here in silence, mistakes happen! Right Auntie?” He says to Bo.
“Of course.” She smiles, physically accepting your apology with a reassuring nod.
“Lovely, would anyone like some music?” He asks.
“That would be lovely, Hugo.” Lady Tano says in her ethereal voice. He smiles and walks over to the baby grand piano in the corner of the room, the same baby grand that you played at for your Knight a few weeks ago.
“The Princess plays!” Your mother says, trying to alleviate any tension.
“She does?” Hugo makes direct eye contact with you. “Would you like to play a duet with me?”
“Hugo, she just-“ Ahsoka begins but is interrupted by your mother.
“Oh won’t you play for us Dear?” She asks, smiling.
“Please! I have wanted to hear you play since I was told you could.” Bo-Katan asks. It would be rude to decline a request from the Queen and the Host of the night.
You nod and stand up, that could be just the thing you need to feel better. You walk over to the piano, stopping just before Hugo.
“Bass or Soprano?” He asks, muttering so quietly that only you can hear it.
“Soprano.” You say. He pulls the bench out and sits first since he would be playing the lower part. You then sit next to him, your hands still slightly shaking.
“Do you know the ‘Dathomirian Waltz’?” He asks. You nod. “Lovely, key of D minor then, I’ll follow you.” He pulls his hands up to the keys, and you follow, taking two deep breaths, the first to calm your shaking hands, the second to conduct both of you in at the same time. Together you play a set of intricate chords, Hugo emphasizing on the bass notes, playing a complex scale that brought his left hand over his right several times. You carry the melody, playing just slightly louder than him and allowing yourself to fall into the trance of performing. Your hands finally quit shaking after a few phrases of the music, allowing it to soothe your nerves. Music has always done that for you. All of the nobles in the room smile, the Naboolian Queen sighing at the beauty of the complicated piece. You can’t keep the smile from pulling on your lips. Korkie’s cousin was very talented, much better than you. His hand brushed against yours several times and you couldn’t help yourself from thinking about the Knight when Hugo touches you.
This was something you would never get with him. You would never get to share a memorable moment with others, never get to rub hands against each other in front of three Queens, never get to look one another in the eye without shame or secrecy. The thoughts start to overcome your consciousness, causing you to play a sour note. No one seemed to notice, but you were more aware of it than you should have been.
A beautiful piece, carefully composed and rehearsed, performed with the intent to dazzle, the intent to impress. However there will always be the sour note, an incorrect chord that the audience might not hear but those giving the show will dwell on undoubtedly.
Like the Kingdom of Mandalore.
——————————————
“Rise and Shine your Highness!” A sing-songy voice calls out to you before pulling the long, draping curtains apart and letting the warm Mandalorian sun pour into the room. You groan and flip over onto your side, your body is still exhausted from yesterday evening and you would like to sleep in a little longer.
“Oh, don’t give us that.” A more brash voice groans and you recognize it as Koska’s. You can hear a number of other bodies file into the suite, maybe three or four. The handmaid's pull in the elven dress and a light breakfast. You can still smell the salt water on your forearm as you swing your hand over your eyes. You were not a morning person. Koska walks up to your bed before sitting on the edge of it, placing her tan hand on your shoulder. “We’ve let you sleep in long enough, we have to get you dressed and ready for tea with the Queens.”
“Queens?” You mumble, slurring the ‘s’ out.
“Yup, both Bo-Katan and your mother as well as the Queen of Naboo and Duchess of the Felucian mountain Kingdom are all eager to spend brunch with you in the Garden.” More guests arrived this morning while you were still sleeping, but it wasn’t until Koska explained to you about the women waiting for you that you remembered what day it was. You opened your eyes wide, flopping your arm onto the mattress beside you and looking up at her drowsily.
“The masquerade is today.” You say out of realization. She smirks and slowly nods her head. Soniee budges into your conversation, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.
“We have two dresses for you to wear today! This one,” She pulls forward a gown that isn’t quite as full and round as the dress for the ball, but is still a lovely dress with a pretty skirt and pearls embroidered into the bodice. “And of course the elf dress.” She nods to the pink and gold gown that sat on a sewing-bust, shimmering in the light. “We won’t get you into the ball gown until later tonight.” She hums.
“Now, we have to get you cleaned up, your hair is a mess.” Koska stands up and pulls the heavy down comforter from off of you. The loss of warmth elicits another sleepy groan from your lips and you stare up at the ladies in waiting frustratedly. “Up!” Koska’s serious voice commands and you’re scared enough of her that you jump up out of bed, pulling the nightgown sleeve up that has been slowly slipping down your shoulder and showing more and more skin. “That’s better.” Koska hums, “Let’s get you a bath, yeah?” She walks towards the bath room, opening the golden gilded doors and into the naturally-light room. You will always admire the beauty and effort put into the Mandalorian palace despite the internal battle with living here. You follow her into the room, still sleepy and walking slowly but eventually making it to the tub in the center of the room. The bath has already been drawn, which they must have done in your sleep (they’ve never done that before). You strip out of the cream-colored nightie and dip into the warm water. It smelled of lavender and honey and you allowed your muscles to relax into the bubbles. It was perfect, exactly what you needed to clear your racing and stressful mind. Your muscles were sore from yesterday and the warm water and flowery oils soaked them blissfully. You sigh at the sensation but before you can enjoy it anymore, Koska is dumping the warm water over your head, wetting it completely. It’s unexpected and you gasp from shock, your eyes glued shut to keep the water out of them. Damp hands come up from out of the water to wipe your eyes but then another dump of water is pouring over your head and you’re back at square one. Koska was a much harsher bather than Sonnie was.
All is forgiven however when she starts massaging your scalp, cleaning your hair. You relax back into the tub and enjoy the seawater and wind getting rinsed out. The other ladies come in, one on either side of the tub who files your nails, and Sonnie brings in a towel and silk robe. The other handmaiden works at your calloused feet with a pumice stone and you try not to let it tickle too much. It was true pampering and you loved every second of it. Usually there’s only one maiden to bathe you but five was divine. You assumed this was the treatment the Queen always received.
After you are properly cleaned, your Corellian tea is brought in and you’re left alone for as long as you like. You slowly sip on the purple shaded drink, waking up from it’s comforting properties. You sigh deeply, allowing the fragrant air to fill your lungs while you look out of the tall, narrow window in the center of the outside wall. You could not see the ocean from here, but instead the distant roofs of Keldabe. It was a beautiful summer day, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and you could hear the birds who have nested in the nooks and crannies of the towers chirping. You knew you had a long day ahead of you, and you wanted to try and enjoy it as much as you could. You never really enjoyed the social aspect of royalty, and that’s all today will be, but you’re ready to brave it head on.
An hour passes before you are finally dressed in the first gown of the day. Your hair is braided back so that it will have a desirable wave for the ball tonight. You are snuggly tied into the pearled bodice of the dress, and you run your hands up and down the beading, allowing it to tickle your soft palms.
Koska pulls open the door, and you’re expecting to see the Knight standing there stoically as always, but he isn’t. The hallway is completely empty, in fact, and you can’t ignore the dreadful feeling that overcomes your body. Where was he?
You clear your throat, and look back at Koska, who was adjusting the skirt of your gown as you walked.
“Where is he?” You ask, your voice hushed almost to a whisper but not quite. There were a million possibilities behind his absence and not a single one of them was ideal. Koska lifts up from her crouched position, smoothing the front pleats of her dress.
“What?” She asks and you sigh out of frustration, there was absolutely no way she didn’t know what you were talking about but you had to be vague because of all the ladies in waiting listening in.
“Who will be accompanying me to the garden?” You say with a forceful tone, trying to prod at a deeper meaning to the question.
Luckily, Lady Reeves picks up on it, and she looks behind you. You felt like she was avoiding eye-contact and it only made you more stressed and confused. “I’ll be escorting you, Highness.” She nodded, moving a step forward and then taking the lead down the corridor. You follow hesitantly, and wait until you are far enough down the hall from the other ladies back in your suite to speak again.
“Don’t horseshit me.” You mutter behind her. She keeps her chin up high as usual. “He’s in trouble, isn’t he.”
Koska doesn’t answer.
“Koska, you promised me he would be okay.” You try not to let the emotion show through your tone but that was a challenge. You felt guilty for some reason. If he was in trouble, it would be entirely your fault. The words shake in your throat and maybe it’s the tight corset and the fact that you are descending the stairs but you’re out of breath and it’s hot, so hot.
“He’s fine, I swear to the stars.” She whispers, saying it straight forward instead of turning back at you in an attempt to stay calm and unsuspecting to watchful eyes.
“Well then why didn’t you tell me that?” You ask, twiddling your thumbs.
“I couldn’t… there’s more to it but-“
“But what? What could be so secretive that you have to keep it from your future queen?” You say through gritted teeth and immediately after, Koska is spinning around on the staircase and looking up at you with a furrowed brow. You felt like you were being scolded by an impatient tutor despite the fact that you out-ranked her.
“You don’t even want to be the Queen.” She says in a whisper-shout, starting to sound as angry and emotional as you were just moments before.
“You’re right, I don’t-“ You bite back.
“So why are you here, then?”
You aren’t sure how to answer, the obvious answer is for Corellia. You were promised something in return for your ability to produce an heir and look like a porcelain figurine on a high shelf. But you also knew it would make your family happy, and your Kingdom. You would be making them proud by marrying so rich. You made a promise.
But now you think you’re starting to stay for an entirely different and unethical reason. Something that is inherently a trap and you know it, and yet here you are, fussing over it at every change you have.
Koska rolls her eyes and scoffs before continuing down the stairs.
“Who spit in your porridge this morning?” You reply.
“You did.” She groans in response.
“I’m sorry, but what did I ever do to you?” You ask when you complete the steps down and start down another corridor, one section of the massive palace closer to your destination.
Koska is the one not to answer this time.
It infuriates you that everyone is keeping secrets from you, your entire experience in Mandalore feels built on deception and being left-out. And now, the two people who finally seemed to be on your side aren’t with you in one way or another on such a big day. Koska is angry with you for no reason and you have no idea where your knight is.
The rest of the walk to the Gardens is silent, and before you know it, you are plopped down on an uncomfortable wicker chair in the hot sun, sipping on lukewarm lemon tea and wondering how much longer you have to suffer. Your mother and Bo were giggling about something, the rest of the court buzzing with conversation and ignoring you as always. Was it possible that you were the problem? You ask yourself this after another sip of the tea, a lemon slice bumping up against your upper lip a few times. As you think, you hold the dainty cup against your mouth, losing yourself in thought without realization. Your pretty eyes stare down at the green grass of the Garden. The grass never gets green back home.
You start subconsciously bouncing your leg as you thought to yourself. Everyone seemed to ignore expect for Korkie and your Knight— who both want to fuck you. Maybe that was the only desirable thing about you. This wasn’t the first time you felt insecure about the relationship you have developed with the Knight. He’s so quiet, so different from you. Were you falling for a trick?
Was he?
Tea must have gone by fast because just before the pearls of your dress start to burn against your arms from the heat exposure, you’re excusing yourself and wandering back inside.
“Strange girl.” One of the noble ladies says to Bo when you walk away. You don’t hear it, you can’t hear anything except for your deafening thoughts.
“Are you sure she’s the one for your nephew?” Another asks. If you had known your mother was silent for all of this in fear of losing her reputation or even the deal between Corellia and Mandalore, you would have been furious.
“Well his father was an outcast, too.” One chuckles. “I guess you Kyrze’s attract the wallflowers.” A few hummed in amused response.
“Well his father wasn’t just an outcast, he was a downright scandal-“
“My sister loved him, and that is all that matters.” Bo interrupts. The laughter quickly dies out.
“Don’t tell me you believe in love, too.” One laughs.
“You aren’t married, what could you know of love?” The same one bo interrupted says.
“I do believe in love, which is why I am not married.” The Queen reiterates. “And I don’t think she’s the right fit for my Nephew, she’s too… outspoken. He needs someone who won’t outshine him.” They chuckle again, all do but your mother, who is still meekly silent.
“Well with the engagement Ball tonight, it is far too late to back out now.” One teases, and the laughter only grows.
Bo-Katan stares in the direction you left.
You huff down the hall, your arms folded and neck sweaty from the heat. You are looking back and forth, studying the layout of the hall in search of something. You’re looking for the smallest idea of where the knight could be but you aren’t very successful.
While all the fully armored guards of the Mandalorian palace are dressed identically, you are almost certain you would be able to spot your boy in a crowd of a thousand of them. You aren’t sure why, but there is something different about him, something that sticks out from the rest. Somehow you two were connected, and it made it so he was always plaguing your mind, even when you are with your literal fiance. Even when you are far away from him and have no clue where he is for the first time in two weeks.
Separation Anxiety.
You aren’t watching where you’re going, which makes you run into a tall, lanky boy. You yelp out in apologetic surprise, looking up at the person blocking your stressed search. A blonde boy flips around to look at you and you’re half expecting to see Korkie but it isn’t.
His Cousin, Hugo, looks down at you with his same charming smirk as always.
“Princess!” He bows.
“My apologies, Hugo!” You exclaim.
“Oh please, you are perfectly fine. You looked distressed? I hope It was not something I did?”
“Of course not!” You reassure, awkwardly smiling. “Uh- may i ask what you were doing in the center of the corridor?”
He chuckles, “Admiring this art.” He nods to an expansive, framed oil painting on the wall. It was of a tall man with a long face and alarming smirk. What stuck out to you, however, was that he held in both hands the same black sword from the royal portraits upstairs by the war room.
“The art is beautiful here.” You smile.
“Yes, my Aunt Satine worked hard to make it culturally rich.”
“Did you know her?”
“Yes, I am a bit older than Korkie, and I knew her for several years before she passed.”
“Are you… second in line?”
“I am.” He says with a classic amused smirk.
“So maybe you can answer a question for me, then.” You ask as you look up at the art. “What in the world is that?” You ask in reference to the blade.
“That, my foreign Princess, is the Dark Sword of Mandalore.”
“The what?” You cluelessly ask.
“A sacred weapon that the rightful ruler possesses, it’s rather powerful.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You look up at it in awe.
“Hah, yes. It is made of pure obsidian. The white is enchanted quartz veins. It is practically invincible, an elven Mand’alor forged it when he was just a boy.”
“What? There were Mandalorians who were part elf?” You ask, your eyes peeling off of the art and onto your companion.
He looks at you almost confused, “There is much you do not know about my Kingdom?”
“No… I’m afraid not.” You shamefully admit.
“Most don’t,” He shrugs and returns to the conversation unbothered, “It’s history is rather complicated.”
The two of you were quiet for a long time. Your eyes were glued to the stern face of the man in the portrait. You wondered who he was. Hugo is the first to speak up.
“You played beautifully last night.” You doubted he didn’t notice the incorrect notes and mistakes you made several times, maybe he was just being polite by ignoring them. You turn to look at him and smile kindly.
“As did you.” You return the compliment. He looks at you, and you must have been distracted by something other than him because you weren’t aware that his eyes were darting between your eyes and your lips.
Hugo forces a kiss on you.
Just like how Korkie did a few weeks ago in the library. It’s fast because you angrily pull away just as fast as he placed it on you.
“What?” You say like an idiot, looking up at him in shock.
“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t feel it?” He gets defensive immediately. The worst part is that it wasn’t even that bad of a kiss, much softer than Korkies, but nowhere as tender as the kisses the Knight would lay on you in the water or behind a closed door. Your entire body seemed to seize up, and you couldn’t get any words out. Not any words that you wanted to say. You just looked up at him, vulnerable and confused. He leans down to do it again but you’re able to turn your head to the side, keeping his lips off of you.
“I am… in love with another man.” You say, clearing your throat.
“You and I both know that isn’t my cousin.”
No use denying it at this point, “yes, but I am still engaged to him. I cannot just be disloyal to the future Mand’alor.” You mutter, embarrassed but trying to keep your cool. You knew you were lying, because you weren’t staying loyal to Korkie. No, you were outright cheating on him and you were falling in love with the boy you were cheating with. You were falling in love. You were very exposed, after all. Anyone could turn the corner or look through the windows and see you. It was different this time, however. Usually hiding your kisses are exciting, but that was only with the Knight. “Please,” You voice betrays you, and the emotional shake is heard through your clenched jaw, “Excuse me.” You push passed him frustratedly, making sure to shove him over a little with your shoulder. You angrily walk back to your room, finally getting there without help for the first time.
When you turned down the Corridor to your suite, you were hoping to see the beskar-clad boy who held you last night, but he still wasn’t there. You hold back emotional tears, but not seeing the one who brings the most comfort to you makes you break. Two crystal tears roll down your cheeks.
You have been taken advantage of too many times in this forsaken castle.
You pull open the door, the golden afternoon light reflecting warmly off of the gold-leafed furniture and decorations is a stark contrast from the bleak hallway. Your bed has been made, and things have been tidied up since you were in here last. You flop onto the mattress, your arms stretched out from your sides, looking up at the sheer canopy above where you lay.
Two hours pass. You think you fell asleep but you cannot remember. If you did, no dreams were had.
Soniee opens your door with trepidation after two soft knocks, “Princess, It is time to prepare for the ball.” Her voice is so timid. You twist your head to look at her, the other ladies from this morning were behind her. Koska was not with them.
You sit up from the bed, rubbing a crook in your neck from how you were laying...
authors note (again): i know this isn’t the best chapter ending but ya know... IT WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE
Anyways..... see you tomorrow? i guess? haha
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part twelve
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itsclydebitches · 3 years
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Hi! I was just watching good omens and I came up with some questions, but I didn't know whom to ask, so I was digging around for go analysis blogs and found you. *takes a breath* So, I was wondering if you had any thoughts on why Heaven's camera angles are the way they are. I noticed that, in heaven, the camera tends to focus on the characters' heads specifically, so they fill most of the screen. Either it's a meta reason or a reference to something (like Newt with the Office) that I'm not getting. That's the main thing, but I've also wondered why exactly Aziraphale uses the verb "fraternize" in the 19th century. It seemed an odd pivot from caring about Crowley's safety to Heaven's rules. Thanks so much!
Hello! Omg yes, let's talk Good Omens cinematography.
First, the obligatory Analysis Disclaimer: I doubt there's a specific interpretation that you're just not getting, some singular, "correct" reading of the scene(s). Two years past release, I'm positive the fandom as a whole has come up with plenty of ideas (I mostly hang on the periphery. I'm far from up to date with GO meta), but any and all of it will, by nature, be subjective. Thus, all I can offer is my own, personal interpretation.
So for me? It's about intimacy.
Not intimacy in the sense of friendship, but rather the broad idea of closeness. Confidentiality. Emotion. Knowledge. Understanding by means of literally getting into the thick of these conversations. I love the camerawork in Heaven (and elsewhere) because the camera itself acts like a person — an additional party to these interactions. And, since we're the ones watching this show via the camera, it makes it feel as if we're peeking into scenes that are otherwise private. Obviously all cinematography does this to a certain extent, the camera is always watching someone or something without acknowledging that we're doing the watching (outside of documentary-esque filmmaking), but GO uses angles and closeups to mimic another person observing these scenes, someone other than the characters involved.
The easiest example I can give here is when Michael makes their call to Ligur. Here, the camera is positioned up on the next landing of the staircase, as if we're sneaking a look down at this otherwise secret call. There's even a moment when the camera pans to the right to look at them through the gap in the railing, briefly obscuring Michael from our view.
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Here, a standard expectation of any scene — keep your character in focus — is done away with to instead mimic the movements of someone actually hiding in the stairwell, listening in on the conversation. It creates that feeling of intimacy, as if we're really there with Michael, not just watching Michael through a screen. The camerawork acts like a person overhearing an illicit conversation prior to falling back on mid/closeup shots. We're spying on them.
To give a non-Heaven example, the camera helps us connect with Aziraphale during Gabriel's jogging scene. It's hard to show through screenshots, but if you re-watch you'll see that the camera initially keeps them both in the frame with full body shots, allowing us to compare things like Gabriel's unadorned gray workout clothes with Aziraphale's more stylish outfit; one's good jogging form and the other's awkward shuffle. However, this distance also creates the sense that we're jogging with them, we're keeping pace.
That is, until Aziraphale begins to lag. Then the camera lags too, giving them both the chance to catch up, so to speak.
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Until, finally, Aziraphale has to stop completely and the camera, of course, stops with him. We're emotionally attuned to Aziraphale, not Gabriel, and the camerawork reflects that. Even more-so when we cut to a low shot of Gabriel's annoyed huff at having to stop at all, making him appear larger and more imposing. Because to Aziraphale, he is.
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This work carries over into Heaven's other scenes. The closeups are pretty much a given since, whether it's Gabriel realizing Aziraphale has been "fraternizing" with Crowley (more on that below!), or Aziraphale choosing to go back to Earth, the scenes in Heaven are incredibly important to the narrative. Closeups allow the viewer to get a good read on each character's emotional state — focusing on minute facial changes as opposed to overall body language — and that fly-on-the-wall feeling is increased as we literally get an up close and personal look at these pivotal moments.
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Compare a shot like this one of Gabriel to the line of angels ready for battle. We don't get closeups on any of their faces because their emotions aren't important. Yes, that's in part because they're background characters, not main characters, but a lack of emotion — their willingness to enter this war without question — is also the point of their presence in this scene. So they remain a semi-identical, nearly faceless mass that runs off into infinity down that hallway, not any individual whose inner life we get a peek at via a closeup.
I particularly like Aziraphale's conversation with the angel... general? Idk what to call this guy. He's just gonna be Mustache Angel. But, getting back on track, his scene has a lot of over the shoulder shots which, admittedly, are pretty common. From a practical perspective they're used to help the audience situate both characters in the scene — you're here, you're there, this is how you're spaced during this conversation — but it can also help emphasize that closeness between them. Keeping both characters in the shot connects them and though Aziraphale and Mustache Angel definitely aren't on the same page here, those shots help cue us in to the unwanted intimacy of this moment. They're both angels... even though Aziraphale no longer aligns himself with them. They're both soldiers in a war... but Aziraphale will not fight. This angel has a list of Aziraphale's secrets, including that he once had a flaming sword and lost it... but Aziraphale doesn't want to admit those circumstances to him. This angel wouldn't understand, even if he did. Intimacy here, connection and closeness, is something discomforting because Aziraphale can no longer embrace those similarities. They put him (and us) out of sorts, so when we get them both in frame, that connection creates tension, not relief.
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And many of those over the shoulder shots are given sharp angels, or the camera is placed too close to the "off screen" party. Compare a shot like Luke and Rey to Aziraphale and Mustache Angel. Here, Luke is a clean, solid line on the left side of the screen, just enough there to cue us in to where he is in relationship to Ray, In contrast, Mustache Angel's mustache is Too Close and proves rather distracting. Rey and Luke are connecting here over being Jedi with responsibilities to uphold (or at least, Luke will acknowledge that connection later lol); Mustache Angel is forcing a connection with Aziraphale that makes everyone uncomfortable.
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We are too close to him here. He feels too close to Aziraphale too. This whole conversation is upsetting and discomforting, pushing Aziraphale to finally choose which side he's on (his own with Crowley). The shots aren't meant to subtly keep the audience from getting lost and then otherwise be unobtrusive, we're supposed to be Very Aware of this angel's body and how close he's getting to the character we've come to identify with — both literally (he's leaning in) and in terms of forcing Aziraphale to finally make his choice.
When Mustache Angel marches forward and gets all up in Aziraphale's face, the camera positions itself behind Aziraphale in a way that makes it feel like we're hiding behind him, with Aziraphale taking up far more of the screen than Luke does. Like the scene with Michael or running with Gabriel, the camera often likes to mimic a "realistic" response to these events. This angry, shouty angel is getting closer, best take a step back and stay out of sight behind Aziraphale, holding his ground.
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These closeups also serve as a nice contrast to the wide and longshots we get of Heaven. It's an imposing place with skyscrapers in the distance, lots of steel, immaculate floors, and endless white. It's overwhelming and it's cold. But then we cut to those mid-shots of Gabriel and Michael, telling us that they're in control of it all.
Aziraphale? Aziraphale is not in control. Not now, anyway. When he appears in Heaven we get a longshot to show off this endless void and he's just another, tiny speck in it. If he weren't flailing around — an acting move that likewise helps sell how out of his depth he is — it's unlikely you'd even notice him. Aziraphale's clothing and hair blends in perfectly with the background. He's forgettable. Easily overlooked. Someone to underestimate. And when he moves, he has to come to the camera. We don't cut to Aziraphale to establish control like we do with Gabriel. He's left to awkwardly shuffle up to Mustache Angel until he's finally come into view.
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Yet when Aziraphale makes his decision, he aligns himself with the brightest, most colorful, most interesting thing in the room: Earth. Earth, with all its messy individuality, is the antithesis to Heaven's controlled uniformity and a bright blue orb hanging in the midst of all this white helps remind us of that. Aziraphale rejects becoming one of the identical soldiers and instead literally reaches out for the one thing in Heaven that doesn't fit in.
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When he leaves, we get an extreme closeup for the first time. Mustache Angel is pissed and as such we not only get a good look at his face in the aftermath of Aziraphale's choice, but that extreme closeup on his mouth as he's shouting too. It's like he's shouting directly at us, the viewer who is currently cheering on Aziraphale's decision. There's a war, dammit... but we don't care. Not in the way he cares, anyway.
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So there's a lot! And I could probably go on, but apparently I'm only allowed to add 10 images per post now (tumblr what the actual fuck if anyone knows a way around this please share!) and I've already had to merge a bunch of images like an animal. So let's awkwardly finish up with the duck pond scene.
...without a GIF because they apparently count as images too 🙃
Simply put, I don't think Aziraphale bringing up fraternizing is a pivot from one to the other — from caring about Crowley to caring about Heaven's rules. I mean yes, Aziraphale is lagging behind Crowley in terms of rebellion and a part of him is, at this point, absolutely concerned with how he'll come across to the higherups, but that worry doesn't stem solely from a (now very shaky) desire to obey for the sake of obeying. The thing is, Aziraphale's disobedience is, by default, also Crowley's disobedience. If they're friends and they're ever found out, they'll both get in trouble. Which, we know from the end of Season One, basically means being wiped from existence. That's horrifying! And it's a horror that threatens them both. I don't think Aziraphale cares about rules for the sake of rules; after all, he started off by giving away his sword, lying to God, is currently meeting with Crowley anyway... this angel has always ignored/bent the rules — established and implied — that don't suit him. Rather, he cares about the rules if he thinks they have a chance of being enforced. If there will be consequences for breaking and bending them. This is still about caring for Crowley (as well as saving his own, angelic skin). If they're found out, Crowley dies. And, as we the viewer learn, Heaven was indeed observing them that whole time. There was always legitimate risk attached to this relationship. Aziraphale's fear, hesitance, and at times forceful pleas to stop this stem as much from Aziraphale worrying about Crowley's safety as they do a learned instinct to obey the rules without question. He pushes to end the relationship because the relationship threatens the only thing Aziraphale cares about more than that: Crowley himself.
As for the term "fraternizing," that's a loaded one! I won't go into a whole history lesson here, but suffice to say it has military roots: to sympathize as brothers with an opponent. That is literally what Crowley and Aziraphale are doing. They are an angel and a demon, supposedly innate enemies, supposedly poised for an inevitable war... yet they've formed an incredibly strong kinship. They've both learned to love their enemy, the thing every army fears because, well, then your army won't fight (just as Aziraphale won't). However, beyond the enemy implications, "to fraternize" eventually took on a sexual meaning: to not merely love as a brother, but to lay with the enemy too, usually women from enemy countries (because, you know, heteronormativity). Nowadays, "to fraternize" often implies a sexual component. I've been rewatching The Good Wife lately and in one subplot, the State's Attorney cracks down on fraternization in his office. He doesn't mean his employees are forming bonds with assumed enemies, he means his employees are having sex on his office couch. So Aziraphale's phrasing here carries a LOT of weight. He's both reminding Crowley of their stations in the world — you are a demon, I am an angel, us meeting like this can have formal, irrevocable consequences for us both — as well as, given the fact that this is a love story, drawing attention to the depth of this relationship. They love one another, as more than just friends. Though whether Crowley's scathing "Fraternizing?" is a response to Aziraphale falling back on the technicalities of their positions, or acknowledging a love he's yet to overtly admit and commit to — or both! — is definitely up for debate.
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kaypeace21 · 3 years
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Will’s fear of clowns
*Ps -not mine. this is a submission from an anon. tw: for s.a. It’s an interesting submission. ANON-please make a tumblr account already . I’m begging you XD
Hi! It’s me, Lonnie Meth Anon. Back with more depressing thoughts about Lonnie!
I just read your post on Jonathan’s ab*se at the hands of Lonnie, and I second it all. It breaks my heart. But it also got me thinking deeper about Will’s fear of clowns. I think you’re right that part of the horror for Will is that the clown attacks in bed. The bed is, obviously, like you say, a common site for s*xual assault. (Doesn’t El’s picture of “three legged Brenner” also have a bed in it? In a picture with not much else?) The fact that Will needed Joyce to sleep with him for a week suggests he was specifically feeling unsafe in bed, or at night. 
But maybe it’s not just the location of the attack in Poltergeist that Will found so harrowing. Maybe it’s the combination of that location with the fact of a clown being the attacker. 
I think Lonnie might have dressed up as a clown for Will’s birthday one year, and something happened. 
In this instance, I don’t think Joyce would know what happened. I think the incident in her mind would be something like “Lonnie dressed up and Will was scared of the costume”. She might even have thought it was cute. Just a typical little kid fear of something mundane. When she teases him about Poltergeist, she doesn’t actually say the movie was the START of his fear of clowns. Just that he was afraid of that particular clown. The general fear of clowns could have been an older one, going back to when Will was even younger.
Maybe Will even liked clowns, before whatever happened with Lonnie turned them into a source of fear for him. Will has a lion plushie (lions are commonly found in the circus) and the circus seems like the kind of vibrant, colorful environment full of outcast, that a young gay kid would really enjoy. If Will did like circuses and Lonnie poisoned that for him, that’s just another reason to hate Lonnie. But it definitely seems possible. 
Lonnie is a deadbeat dad in general, but we’ve seen before that he’s capable of faking the “family man” act in front of Joyce and their neighbors. We’ve also seen that even though he treats Will horribly, he would also try and keep Will on his side with father son bonding activities, like baseball. And Will’s birthday is one of the few occasions Lonnie makes a half-assed kind of effort, even when there’s nothing directly in it for him. He sends that card, even though it’s late. Maybe Joyce made called him up and made him send it, but she always seemed happy to keep Lonnie out of the picture. She didn’t even want to involve him when Will went missing. And we know Jonathan would never try and facilitate more interactions between Lonnie and Will. So it seems like Lonnie did this of his own accord, when he realized he’d missed the day. Kind of weird. And it’s classic abuser behavior, to make contact on an anniversary date, reminding you they exist and you can’t escape them. Reminding you to keep quiet. Or hoping you’ll miss them, remember the “good times” when they made an effort, and let them back into your life. (Ugh.)
So, anyway, back to my theory. Young Will likes circuses, and the Byers family are poor, so they can’t afford to take him to one, or throw him a party at an ice cream parlor or a bowling alley, like other kids. It makes sense that they would have a party at home instead, and that the family themselves might dress up. We know Joyce made Will’s Ghostbusters costume in season two, and a clown is a pretty easy costume. Most of it is just make up. It’s possible the whole thing was Joyce’s idea, and she made the costume, and Lonnie just went along with it to look like a good dad in her eyes. 
Remember how we see Bob (Will’s new father figure) dressing up in costume for Halloween? Joyce loves it. This is a thing good dads do, to have fun with their kids. That’s also the same episode we see Will scared by a guy in a clown costume, and Jonathan is hyper-protective of him that night. School is okay, but he doesn’t want him trick or treating. (Like he knows that school is a safe environment, but in other contexts, costumes and parties might be a trigger for Will.) Jonathan is convinced to leave Will and “let him have fun” and what happens? The clown attacks. Later that night Jonathan goes to a costume party himself, where he finds Nancy upset and takes her safely home.  Maybe this is how Will’s birthday party ended - with Jonathan finding Will upset, and trying to comfort him. The whole night could be playing out like a parallel to that birthday party, from Jonathan’s perspective. 
What actually happened with Will and Lonnie is up for debate. It’s possible there was a s*xual assault, and that’s why the clown scene in Poltergeist was such a trigger for Will. Or maybe Lonnie thought circuses weren’t “manly” enough for his son to like, and actively tried to scare Will, so he wouldn’t like them anymore. It’s hard to know. Something would have happened though, and probably something pretty formative, because the fear of clowns lasts a long time. 
Something else interesting is that when Mr Clarke is talking about the Upside Down in season one, he uses the metaphor of the flea and the acrobat. Acrobats are a main act in the circus, and, well … fleas. Flea circuses. That’s a thing. Maybe it’s a hint that the trauma that created the Upside Down was circus / clown - related?
Kali, El, and their gang wear clown masks too, when they’re going to confront their childhood trauma, and the child-like Alexei is surrounded by clowns when he is killed at the fair. 
Clowns are just so associated with birthday parties and little kids, that it doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me they’re Will’s biggest fear. Especially as the show keeps dropping hints about Lonnie and Will’s birthday. It feels like there’s more to the story. I have a horrible feeling SOMETHING happened. 
RESPONE (kaypeace):
I think it’s very possible-that maybe he did dress as a clown for Will’s birthday and something happened. We have alexi (paralleled to Will) playing carnival games with kids. Then he's attacked by the Lonnie-look alike : and alexi looks at his wound then stares at all the clowns laughing around him. Joyce and Murray find Alexi bleeding/dy*ng next to a clown statue. As joyce looks in horror and Murray says to her, he was “only gone for a second” (which sounds like something you’d say in relation to a kid you were supposed to watch-running off ). We also had sarah at age 7 die while wearing a gown with clowns on it (Will: it was a 7 the demogorgan it got me). Death of innocence symbolism? Hopper also describes his depression as a cave- he goes through the carnival ride where it mentions a "cave of horrors", which had decor of a tiger and a clown painting. So yeah... whatever happened probably isn't good. So- there may be some symbolism there in relation to Will’s past. Not only because (like I and you have mentioned before) Lonnie is highly associated with birthdays. And canonically we know he mentally scarred jonathan on his b-day. But also, s4’s ‘victor creel’ may be an easteregg to the xmen character victor creed- who had a tradition of tra*matizing family members specifically on their bdays
As another alternative:I could also totally see Lonnie “ruining” circuses for Will because it’s not “manly” to him. Like how Jonathan liked thumper the rabbit-from the film bambi. in the film, Thumper is bambi’s bff, and the hunters are the bad guys who k*ll Bambi’s mother and terrorize all the wildlife. SO yeah- making Jonathan become a hunter, and k*ll a rabbit ,despite this fact, is really messed up. And shows Lonnie has already tried to ‘ruin’ things the boys like. By mentally scarring them in one way or another…
I also mentioned how Will’s bday could even be a trigger for jonathan in a diff post.
if the s4 bts calender hinting it’ll be near Will’s bday and easter it could be relevant to Jonathan.we know in s1 el has tra*matic flashbacks when seeing certain things- coke, closet, cat, etc. And Will in s2 has his ‘anniversary effect’ where memories flood back based on the time of year.But like … Easter has bunnies - could seeing rabbits jog stuff up for Jonathan? El seeing a cat made her have a flashback of brenner trying to make her kill a cat. Would Jonathan seeing like Easter bunny decor jog up a flashback of lonnie making him kill a rabbit? (It happened on his bday too). So Will’s b day being around easter would only fuel that memory. (heck even popped balloons may trigger gunshot symbolism idk). And then for Will there is clowns that could be a tr*gger at a party.
The flea and the acrobat analogy (in relation to Will and circuses is very interesting) and could be foreshadowing- it’s even a title for an episode so I feel like it’s narratively an important hint to …something. similar to a s1 ep being called “the bathtub”.  Also, Will was compared to a circus flea- which were placed in an enclosed space, where heat was applied as they jumped  and tried to escape the increasing temperatures as they burned .Which could relate to my theory about Will having a se*zure due his body overheating due to Lonnie injecting him with m*th.
 If Will’s bday is in s4- I feel like Lonnie will come back in some capacity (flashback or literally). The ‘sorry, I forgot you b day’ card from Lonnie in s2, in Lonnie’s shed Joyce mentioning Will’s b day, the rainbow ‘happy birthday cup’ placed next to Will at Mike’s -while Will explains the supernatural, Lonnie already tra*matizing Jonathan on his bday, etc…
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antiloreolympus · 3 years
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14 Anti LO Asks
1. To the one anon: good question - how is it that the mortals dont know who Persephone is / assume she is a minor goddess and therefore its okay to mess with her but the gods (or Olympians / underworld denizens) know exactly everything about her (despite her being there only every so often and only being 20ish) - enough to say shes "wearing her signature white color" during a murder trial.
Also the reason why Persephone is wearing white is because
A). RS wanted persephone to always be "dressed as a bride" (and have Hades dressed as a groom respectively) to show that their matching / is supposed to be a visual cue that their eventually gonna be together.
B). I believe this is RS way of saying that Persephone (despite murdering some mortals) is innocent because in purity culture White = innocence, virginity, youth etc. (Even though RS explicity ssid she wanted to go against purity culture morals shes very much leaning into them). 
2. why are Psyche’s eyes yellow even in her human form? Is she sick??
3. honestly? LO is just gossisp girl at this point, espect even GG (at least in the first season) bothered to saturze the rich and was calling out how wealth and power makes them corrupt assholes. meanwhile LO is just GG season 2 and on of being like no no, the poor people are the evil people and the rich people are the oppressed ones! all while also fawning over their  wealth and status and being way into grown men wanting to bang barely legal teens and claiming to be "feminist" somehow.
4. Tumblr is well-known for broken tag system. Check the post' tags before complaining that it's op's fault. How about you guys not tag greek mythology when posting about LO? LO is not one-shot or short fancomic. It's also definitely not considered actual greek mythology. LO is years long webcomic with huge fans. LO has its own tag. Tell your fellow fans to stop using the greek mythology tag.
5. I would argue nyx is the only woman with a unique in design in LO but thats only because she looks like a deformed chicken woman. why was my night mom disrespected this much 😭
6. So now that LO is back from break and I can finally read chapter 170 - Why oh Why do ALL the female characters Have to be defined by their male love interests??? (Or really just love interests in general).
I understand LO qualifies as the "romance" genre and there are certain stipulations or I guess themes or what have you that make it romance but for f*cks sake.
Psyche being worried about Eros loving the "fake" her I kinda get, but really? Thats your most pressing concern?? Hera is defined by her garbage marriage to Zeus - King of the gods (of which is why she is Queen of the gods). Hestia + Athena are now defined solely by their relationship to each other (not the TGOEM or their respective traits of being a goddess of the hearth + goddess of war, strategy etc etc).
Aphrodite is defined by giving Persephone "relationship" advice (e.g: telling her to curb stomp Minthe because "nymphs dont take things from gods" - doubly implying that people are things to own) And by her jealousy of Persephone in the first place because Hades made a comment about how he thought Persephone was prettier than her. And also because of her "house of debauchery" (Artemis'  words) - and relationship with Ares.
Persephone is defined both by Apollo raping her and by her fated future status as Queen of the underworld (so her relationship with Hades). Hell, even the minor characters such as nymphs are defined by this relationship status / standard. Minthe is defined by her mean spirited personality yes, but Also because of her abusive relationship with Hades prior to the introduction of Persephone. Psyche is defined by her relationship woes with Eros. Daphne is defined by her relationship with Thanatos (and because shes a flower nymph) but also mostly because she looks like Persephone.
Rhea is defined by her marriage / relationship to Kronos (lets ignore the whole "fertility goddess power" plot for a second). Even Aetna is defined by Haphestus creating her! Is there not a single character (especially female) is isnt defined by their romantic love interest???Sorry. Maybe I'm overthinking this, but thats definitely how ot comes off as of late, in regard to the latest chapters.
Okay, same anon as earlier - I take it back somewhat - we have Artemis and Hecate that are not defined by their romantic relationships - but rather their lack of one.
However the way they are shown - it still comes off as a standard - "Artemis is stingy / a stick in the mud" because shes not romantically involved and is "barbaric" (according to Hera). And Hecate is still somewhat defined by her being Hades' employee (and cheerleader for him and Persephone to be together).
So technically yes, we have at least 2 characters that are not defined by their romantic interests / relationships, but they are still held to the standard of their "un-ladylike / undesirable" because their not romantically involved.
(I guess I should count Demeter, but only because shes more defined by just being "Persephone's overbearing mom" )
7. i think whats also kinda weird about this trial is like?? persephone is obvs framed as not liking the attention (bc duh) but she didnt like the previous press either, she wanted to be private, but wouldnt being with hades force her to be in the spotlight that makes her uncomfortable? also the citizens of the underworld already dislike hades, why would they want a uncontrollable felon as their queen, even if she found innocent? idk the whole thing just makes the endgame less plausible, tbh.
8. love that rachel was able to find a random deity name to name her random nymph the greek word for "beans" meanwhile apparently cant google actual greek names for even one off characters? like andrew, ellen, george, alexis, damian, luke, phoebe, sophia, and so any other english names are also greek, but she cant even bother with that? what exactly is her "research" if she cant even bother to spend 30 seconds googling greek names? at this point LO seems determined to be as un-Greek as possible.
9. wait so everyone in LO went from having no idea who persephone was, to her only showing up on ONE magazine cover, to now being the most well known person with a signature color? all in the span of two weeks with no genuine public outings? how does that make sense? also white isnt even her signature color if 90%+ the female cast and even a lot of the men ((including ZEUS) all wear it too.
10. the fact the courthouse WASNT the areopagus, aka the place in greece where they say the first ever trial ever happened and where the court system was invented, is just another point of rachel talking out her ass about being "respectful" or "researched" on greece and their mythology. its literally one of the most famous mythology spots ever with some fantastic stories to it and she's just like "nah! boring rectangle will do!" like why even both with mythology then if its this devoid of it?
11. Anons are saying Hades in the FS chapter is leaning down and talking to Persy like a child. Say it aint true.
(I wanna see. I thought RS was finally giving Persy adult proportions). 😨
12. So wait, hold up. I kinda get where RS is coming from with the law school in the underworld (because Hades is supposed to be a kinda Judge, jury, executioner situation in the afterlife when it comes to mortals and their "punishments" and whatnot). However, is RS stating that the ONLY law school / courthouse exists in the underworld? If so, why? Why wouldn't Athena be there then. She's a goddess of strategy and justice (among other things).
Also is RS really implying that Hades owns not only the banks and underworld but the law too? She really wants Hades to be a Gary Sue along side her Mary Sue - Hades controls everything that matters and since its his realm and blah blah blah rules, Zeus, king of the gods cant do anything about it.
(Which is dumb. Because you would think that because Persephone committed the crime in the mortal realm / on, or near Olympus that therefore she would be brought back there to dole out justice under Zeus jurisdiction because she committed the crime in His Realm). 
13. FP Spoiler ahead:
Why on earth couldn't the reporters have Greek names? There is so much wrong and bad with this story, yet this irks me so much. It is Brenda all over again.
14. i dont really get the point of the trial plotline, tbh. even persephone says she should be punished and held accountable, but hades is framed in the right for trying to go against that and weasel her out of it. so?? plus zeus has legit reason to punish them? persephone is a danger to others, demeter and hermes both committed treason to cover it up, and hades was harboring a fugitive of the law and is now trying to force the system to let her go. how is zeus in the wrong for this?
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woozi · 3 years
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Um this might be annoying but your descriptions on that mutuals as svt members was so wholesome! So I thought if you could name your mutuals and say what you like abt them? Your favorite thing about them kinda? Idk I thought it was cute but you don't have to do it if you don't want to ! 💚💚💚
i went through my following list and i think these are all of my carat mutuals/friends <3 i only included those who i'm mutuals with here on this blog, but with that in mind i hope i included the right people/and all of you! if not, i may have gotten confused with your main and sideblogs. :/ i divided this into 4 sections (because that's how i think of them in my head, lol). so, without further ado, here they are in the order of my following list (from the most recent):
caratblr
@leechaerok (mirelle) - mi!! i love how you are always striving to be positive and that this is something you share and extend to other people! you literally remind me of sunshine and i hope that only good things are coming ur way. ily!!
@ohoshi (cora) - cora my naughty (IN A PLAYFUL WAY) friend <3 cora's really fun to talk to and she keeps you on your toes. idk why i didn't follow her earlier (i didnt know i wasn't following her jsdjkdsjsdk). extremely talented!! also love the upbeat vibe.
@soonyoungs (cara) - same with cora, i've been seeing cara around but never got to interact with her until recently! i love how versatile cara is and how she always always always appreciates even the little things. 10/10 would let her visit my home again <3
@wrongnanab (aya) - i get mom/older sister friend vibes from aya and i think it suits her a lot. she’s also not afraid of reaching out and i love that sm about her!! i relate to her a lot and i love how she’s always there.
@junhaoshua (e) - something interesting always comes up every time i speak to e! i also love her initiative and how well she manages her time. she’s really passionate about the things she likes and i love how she can get people to be interested in them too!
@choibeomgyus (kale) - kale has excellent taste! i love her aes so much. <3 her work is particularly right up my alley and i just love how clean looking they are. kale’s also such a sweet friend, and she’s not shy about showing affection. i love her sm!!
@dokyom (izy) - izy’s one of the first carats i first followed when i got into caratblr and i’m so glad to have made that decision! her work always wows me and although we haven’t talked much, she’s one of the people i always look out for in here.
@seohoshi (nele) - nele, my mutual at heart. <3 the way we became mutuals is so funny and memorable to me, and i can’t say that about most people! i really like the way nele presents herself as well. she can have fun while still being collected, which i find really interesting. i think she’s someone who brings stability, but i can’t really explain why i get that from her. <3
@art-hao (carrie) - goddess on earth. so elegant. a literal virgo. i love how carrie doesn’t want to be too invested in one single thing. that being said, she’s multitalented, yet is skilled in each of the fields she’s venturing in. she also speaks what’s on her mind, and i admire that a lot. what can’t this woman do :/  
@svtreasure (kate) - kate is one of the first people i got to talk to here on caratblr! and although she’s not on here that much, i always look forward to seeing her. i feel like i have to protect her like a younger sibling <3
@uriboogyu (lee) - lee definitely has feisty younger sibling vibes which i think is so cute! like carrie and e, she’s not afraid of saying what’s on her mind. lee is also such a go-getter! the future is very bright for this one <3
@smallkore (kore) - i remember first talking to kore after she tagged all 3 of my active blogs in one post, and i thought it was kind of funny <3 kore is super talented and entertaining! i also think she’s super interesting, and i love her strange picture collection. <3
@rq-s (katrina) - katrina is also one of the first few people who i interacted with here on caratblr! she is so supportive and always has a nice word for everyone. even though she isn’t here much, i always like seeing her around <3
@boosbin (isa) - iconic. legend. will kick your ass. my beloved <3 isa is SUPER talented and she never fails to amaze me. she’s also very relatable and is super fun to talk to! idk i’m just really fond of isa lol
@dk-s (zay) - i love zay’s sense of style and her overall aesthetic! she also is really smart and gets really invested in her interests. i love her dedication and initiative!
@scoupsy (dreamy) - dreamy and i haven’t really talked much aside from interactions here and there, but she’s someone i really admire. i love how she doesn’t take anyone’s shit and knows what she wants. she’s really skilled in her areas of interest and takes pride in her excellent work. love that about her!! 
@julyprince (madison) - i was really shocked when madison followed me back because i love her work so much! i love how she is so consistent and dedicated (honestly, the constant 9 sets say it all <3). she’s intimidating at first, but she is actually so nice and likes reaching out!
@xuseokgyu (belle) - one of my treasured moots. belle is literally the seok to my soon. <3 she doesn’t know it, but i was kind of shy during my earlier days in caratblr, and she encouraged me to be myself just because she was always reaching out to me. i see belle as someone who really nurtures and is just a reliable older sister for me!
@haniehae (anna) - also one of my favorites <3 anna doesn’t really need too much words but u can always feel the love from her by her little tags here and there. she’s also super supportive and very appreciative of the little things! anna is such a cute person to have around. i lalso love how much work she puts into caratblr. also an amazing dancer oh my god???????
@jaemtens (kevin) - like dreamy, kevin and i haven’t really talked much, but i always love seeing him on the dash! one of the people i admire. it absolutely blows my mind how he has a phd (about to have one? :D) and that he’s still somehow able to make gifs (BEAUTIFULLY!) consistently. love that dedication, wish that were me!!
@tearsofsyrup (vi) - vi thinking of me and tagging me on cute stuff really just makes me feel so :’>. i love how easygoing vi is and i just feel light whenever we interact!!
@soonhoonsol (chey) - everyone’s bestie!! chey literally is the go-to person on caratblr. idk how she manages to do it but she’s always so nice to everyone and really does go out of her way to make everyone feel comfortable! chey has a special place in my heart, and my stay in caratblr wouldn’t be the same without her. <3
@iiasha (emily) - you all don’t understand how much i LOVE emily. i can’t even explain why i love her i just do. she’s also one of the first people i followed when i came on caratblr and i’m so glad to have met her here on our own personal hellsite. emily’s the perfect balance of smart, cool, and funny (this sentence sounds lame as fuck but idk how else to put it)! i appreciate how much she likes her job and that’s something i hope to also imitate! i’ve said it before but i also really love how generous she is. emily also made my stay here on caratblr very enjoyable and i always love reading her text posts <3 i think tumblr junation would nearly die without her so go thank her rn. (she also spotted me turning full dinonara without me even noticing that i am one so. <3 /mwah/)
@coupsnim (izzie) - izzie gives me calm artsy vibes.  her work is always stunning omg. queen of red lips (and i think it’s so fitting bc it suits cheol the best imo???). ALSO love how much she loves cheol!! izzie’s just a sweetheart. <3 would also support ur 0 note posts, lol.
@kyeomshine (lyns) - lyns coloring queen <3 i looove how clean and cohesive her work always is! she’s also one of the people who encouraged me to stay here on caratblr (although she doesn’t know it!!). and though we don’t see lyns as much nowadays, i still think of her as the resident dk fan <3 one of the memorable people for me.
@heartgyus (rhys) - my sister (dISGUSTANG!!). my enemy. THE mutual to have homoerotic subtext with. rhys is actually my closest friend on caratblr. she’s multitalented, almost all-knowing, and has prettie vibes. i’m not elaborating anymore from here on out because i just know she’s gonna be a little devil about it on the dms. 🙄
@hanwooz (kellie & christine) - one of my absolute favorite blogs! i think of them as one of the constants of caratblr. i absolutely love their posts sm and just enjoy when they’re around!! (and how do ur gifs always look good omg tell me ur secrets pls <3)
@7ww​ (yasmin) - one of my favorite (if not my favorite) gfx maker!! i love how you can immediately tell something is from her because of their trademark look. we haven’t talked yet, but she’s one of my favorite carats!
@mngys​ (sofi) - coolest person in the world. idk why we’re even mutuals i don’t deserve this <3 sofi always has the coolest ideas and i look up to her sm!! i’ve also seen her from the birdie community before i got into caratblr so i’ve been following her for quite some time now, but we became mutuals here!
aes carats
@vixenjun​ (kaya) - another one of my beloveds <3 i always say kaya is funnie and sexie but she really is, and those are always the first words i think of when i’m reminded of her. one of my absolute favorites. a bestie that's close to my heart. <3
@tiddie​ (deniz) - i don’t see deniz posting much about svt anymore, but deniz is one of my first carat moots (i followed aes carats first). this one really witnessed my jeonghan downfall. :/ so funny. is a great friend!!
@bwaldorf (ramasha) - A SWEETHEART!! ramasha and i don’t talk much anymore but when i think of her i only am reminded of good things. i rmb how much she supported my weird posts back then <3 also iconic aes hello???? 
@vernons (oona) - oona and i are literally just vibing here <3 i actually met her from the aes side of tumblr before i got into caratblr (like deniz) and discovered that she’s also a carat! i really like oona’s presence and i just feel like she’s someone i want to protect. <3 also makes amazing pastries. she’s also so pretty!!!!! (i really like ur hair sm i think i’ve said this before lol) a cute friend. would send u things saying ‘this reminded me of u’, and i’d get heart attacks from it jsdjdjksd
@oldbooks (fawn) - my frog friend. i think it’s so cute that fawn shares this agenda with hao <3 also unexpectedly tags you on things and leaves cute little notes/tags that makes me want to :’). sophisticated taste!! also really friendly. ily!!
@scoups (hani) - hani is so friendly and takes really good care of her friends!! i was intimidated of her at first, but learnt that she’s an absolute sweetheart. i love how she’s also giving us sm svt content when she’s around! hani’s a supportive friend that you’ll always find yourself looking for. 
@snwo (joy) - refined taste. funny text post advocate. i love joy’s vibe sm!! i first got to know her when she had a hao url and i was super intimidated of her. now she’s one of my absolute besties! aside from her impeccable taste, she’s also such a great friend. this one always has ur back. ily ms joy <3
@sataemism (sof) - sof literally the funniest person in the world!! i’m always happy to see her and she brings me so much joy. very lowkey chaotic vibe (the taemin and hoshi urls speak a lot abt this lol), and just a very fun person overall!!
birdie carats
@flowerbeom (kat) - kat, like the rest of those in this category, is someone i’ve been following for a while now as i came back to tumblr because of got7. kat and i haven’t really talked much but always interact with rb/s and likes and i love that JSDJSDKJDSJ that being said kat’s tags are always so enjoyable to read. + it’s so funny as well that when we actually got to talking we didn’t realize we had a lot in common! a very generous friend. gave me a yugyeom pc even though i’m literally from another continent. 😭
@tuanzie (joanna) - content queen. i looove how joanna’s work has a trademark look to them! they’re always so gorgeous and smooth-looking. i love how joanna’s able to speak her mind and would not take shit from people. i see her as someone brave, but not too out there! also someone you can rely on to put reposters on hit lists mwah<3
@gotseventeens (belle) - my name twin <3 belle is actually one of the people/reasons why i got into svt and i’m eternally grateful to her for that!! we’ve been talking since i first became a birdie but somehow we both have 0 recollections of our conversations JSDJDKSJKSDJ tumblr wouldn’t be as fun for me if belle weren’t around ngl. i love how she seems to be mature yet you’re also up for a wild ride with her!! she’s my own personal wonu <3
@secndlife (karoline) - i’ve also been following karoline since i was a birdie, but we only became mutuals here! i love her writing so much and i enjoy seeing her lose her mind over hoshi (mood <3)
@defgyus (val) - i often associate belle with val and i think they have a lot of similarities!! val also gives me the mature yet fun vibe. i think val’s so successful and i admire her a lot!! i love her work sm and just love how she interacts with people. very warm and homey!!
more carat moots i haven't really talked to but enjoy seeing on the dash
@emailclub (emily), @kyeomblr (maddie), @joshuahong (bea), @delicatecy (deli), @mintyseoks, @syuperseventeen (nat), @haol (mali), @svtclub (hannah), @cutiejoshi (siri), @chanswu (mandy), @jeonghannie (myrena), @squishy-woozi (kris), @wonwooo (hiba), @rameniji (rain), @cafevernon (ish), @hoshluv, @minghyu (nicole), @mingyiu (katya), @yeol (tat), @dearkyeom (kristy), @seokgyus (kai), @bbaksu (akemi), @1adyluck (sushi), @shineesbag (gen)
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turtleedovee · 3 years
Text
Life Has A Funny Way of Working Out (Pt. 3)
Chapter 1  Chapter 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Word Count: 2,454
Warnings: cursing, shouting, destruction (kinda), magic using, controlling someone, manipulative ex (if there’s anything else I miss please let me know!)
A/N: Part 3! hello lovely people thank you for reading this, I really liked writing this so I hope you guys enjoy this chapter just as much as I enjoyed writing it, not gonna lie... shit kinda hits the fan. There will probably be one more chapter after this, I mean I didn’t really see where else I was going with this after this last chapter but idk I might pick it up if I have another idea but anyways enjoy! Remember that I also post this on my ao3 so if you want to read it there my user is the same as my tumblr.
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The next morning Bucky woke up to the sunlight streaming into the room, he began turning around and the first thing he noticed was how your side of the bed was empty. Panic began to set in until he heard shuffling in the living room, he slowly got up, rubbed his eyes and headed towards the noise coming from the living room, noticing how you were chipping off a piece of your broken wall.
“Hey, goodmorning?” Bucky asked, confused as to what you were doing.
You turned around to face Bucky, “Oh, good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
“No don’t worry about it, what’re you doing?” He spoke while watching you struggle to pull a small piece of wood off the wall, the white paint slowly peeling off.
“Need to get this fixed before my landlady sees it and goes berserk.” You trailed off finally getting a big enough piece, you put it in a baggy and stuffed it inside your pocket. “Come on, let’s go.” You said grabbing your bag from the counter.
Bucky stared at you, dumbfounded, “Wait, wha- go where?” 
“To get coffee? It’s the least I can do for you.” You grabbed your keys and made your way towards the door.
“I told you, you don’t owe me anything alright.”
“Barnes.” You stated, placing your hand on your hip and drumming your fingers on the counter, “Get your ass ready and let's go get some coffee.” You ordered.
Bewildered, Bucky responded, “Yes ma’am.” and headed towards your bathroom and began getting ready, mainly to make sure he didn’t look like he just woke up.
————————————————————————
Getting out of the house was good for you, having something to do to distract yourself seemed like a good way to heal. Both you and Bucky went out to get coffee and some breakfast. While you two sat down and ate you also talked and laughed, really about anything and everything, the conversation going from fits of laughter to comfortable silence. Bucky then joined you to the hardware store to buy paint and other supplies to fix your broken wall, he had offered to help which you happily took, being around the people who you cared about most was all you wanted but you wanted to refrain from going to the Compound for ‘no reason.’ Everyone there was highly perceptive and you really didn’t want anyone else to know, part of you knew you shouldn’t feel ashamed and yet you did. They were like your family so you weren’t sure why you didn’t ever feel ready to share your anger.
But telling Bucky felt right. You two had been there for each other during some of the lowest moments of each other's life, so he knew how to comfort you. He was always patient with you which is saying something considering how frustrated he gets when someone takes too long trying to do or explain something.
After running around the city for a few hours and feeling pretty good, you and Bucky started walking towards your apartment building when you looked up and suddenly the pit in your stomach formed and you shuddered with dread.
“What the hell are you doing here?” You said, almost shouting, at your ex who was now exiting your apartment building.
“Oh… hey, I was looking for you.” He said casually, as if you two were doing just fine.
You felt your face begin to heat with anger, “I told you I didn’t want to see you again, what do you want?”
“Listen I just want to talk about the mistakes of last night-”
“Oh! The mistakes?! Which one, do you mean the one where you decided to hit me?” You stepped closer, not caring who heard you.
“Babe please I was angry you can’t be mad at me about that.” He calmly said. 
You knew what he was trying to do, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of trying to play himself off as the calm collected guy and you as the crazy girlfriend.
You took a deep breath to calm yourself, “I am mad at you and I told you: we’re done. So you need to leave. Now.”
He started to reach out for your hand. “C’mon I know you don’t mean that-”
“Hey,” Bucky, who had stood back throughout the conversation letting you take charge, came in front of you and diverted the hand from coming near you, “she said to leave her alone so I suggest you listen to her before things get out of hand.”
His calm and cool demeanor changed in an instant when his eyes landed on Bucky. He scoffed, and noticed how you backed-up behind Bucky, “Are you being serious right now?” He looked at both of you and as if something clicked in his little brain he stepped back from the both of you. “Oh I see what this is, you only dumped me so you wouldn’t get caught cheating on me with this dick.” He said and shoved Bucky back, you grabbed Bucky’s arm to stop him from doing anything stupid, mainly so you could do something stupid and make sure Bucky didn’t get into any trouble.
“I told you I never cheated on you, and whatever my business with Bucky is, it’s my business, I don’t owe you any explanation given that I broke up with you so get over it.” You gritted your teeth, standing in front of Bucky to stare down your ex.
He gave a harsh laugh, “This is unbelievable you’re freaking out on me for catching you and now you don’t even want to admit that you did anything wrong!” He shouted, Bucky began to glance around noticing that people were staring.
“I didn’t cheat on you, asshat!”
“Oh please, now you're acting like a bitch.”
“Okay, that’s enough, leave her alone. Before you make yourself look more like a fool.”
He sized Bucky up, “Or what? You’ll kill me?” He puffed out his chest and pushed himself forward getting in Bucky’s face. “I know what you are: a killer, that’s all you ever have been and all you ever will be.”
Bucky didn’t move, didn’t break eye contact. You feared that he wanted Bucky to beat him to a pulp, but he stayed there, unwavering in his stare.
“She asked you to leave.” Bucky repeated. “So leave.”
“Nah… I don’t think so.” Before Bucky could even blink he noticed a rising fist coming straight for him. But before he could block the blow, the fist stopped; midair, the guy’s face contorting in pain.
Bucky looked over his shoulder and realized you were controlling him, anger clouded your eyes.
“I told you to leave me alone. But you didn’t listen.” Bucky stepped back as you stepped forward, forcing your hand forward, making him drop to his knees, grunting in pain. “I told you what would happen if you so much as looked at me. Do you know how easy it would be to kill you right now?” You leaned into his ear and whispered, “Like breaking a toothpick.” You stood back up, anger creating an invisible barricade between you and him, you didn’t care who saw, you didn’t care what happened, all you knew is that he deserved nothing. “Give me one good reason why I should let you live.”
He tried to open his mouth, but you didn’t let him, he could see sweat falling down his forehead, and Bucky looked around, seeing all the eyes staring down at you in fear. Bucky walked up slowly to you and put his hand on your shoulder, feeling how tense you were. “[F/N], not here not now.”
Bucky’s touch seemed to remove the dark clouds that surrounded you and his soft words brought you back to reality. That was when you noticed the crowd, eyes just staring at you, along with flashes of cameras. He got what he wanted, he wanted you to lash out so he could play the victim, and you fell right into it.
You dropped him and started walking back to your apartment, Bucky following quickly behind you. You heard him start yelling, you tried not to pay attention but something he said caught your attention, “You think you’re done with me?! Just wait until your little guard dog leaves. Now what I did in there was just a warning.” He shouted while he started standing up.
“What was just a warning?” You asked, already up the stairs to the entrance of the building.
He just smirked, “Oh you’ll see, don’t think you can embarrass me like that, once I’m done with you, you’ll regret everything coming your way.” And with that notion he walked off, with a noticeable limp; you tried to process what he just said. What was he doing in your apartment? How did he get in? All of these thoughts ran through your head as you started fumbling with your keys.
“Shit.” You whispered as you began racing through the hallways towards your apartment, not paying attention to Bucky trying to tell you to slow down. When you finally arrived at your door you carelessly shoved the keys in and pushed the door to open when you finally realized what he meant as a warning.
You seemed to stop breathing all together dropping the paint and other supplies you needed to fix the hole in the wall, now, useless. He completely destroyed your apartment, your eyes scanned the living room and kitchen; to your right plates, mugs, and bowls were shattered into a million pieces, the different colors made a mosaic on the floor, the refrigerator door was left open and fruits and other foods laid splattered as well, now most likely spoiled. Your dining table was broken, all the legs of the chairs were sitting scattered with wood chunks around them. The potted plants you had now laid down on the floor, dirt pouring over the floor. Your couch had slash marks, the stuffing inside them was sprayed everywhere on what remained of your coffee table, your television now screening the various black and white speckles along with glass falling from the screen and surrounding the living room you were in the night before; and you could only imagine what else he did in your room.
Devastation couldn’t even begin to describe how you were feeling. You clenched your jaw, you felt more violated than before. He somehow managed to sneak into your home, and destroy the first place you had felt at peace in. You slowly stepped inside the apartment, the crunching of wood, glass, and broken ceramics under your shoes, and looked closer at everything, you felt as though your entire world had been slipped out from under you; grabbing a broken picture frame you looked at the picture inside now covered in dust, stuffing, wood chips, and dirt.
Bucky was at a loss for words, you two were only gone a few hours, that man you once trusted managed to destroy the one place you were safe in. He didn’t know what to say, or how to comfort you. 
“You should get going,” You said quietly, not looking up from the picture, “I need to fix things around here.”
“[F/N] please, you don’t need to do this alone, let me help-”
“No!-” You shouted, “Please just, I need to be alone for a little.”
Your sudden shout startled Bucky but he knew when to back off. “Alright, call me later ok?” He asked, heading towards the door.
“Yeah, for sure I’ll… see you later.” You said distracted. Barely noticing that Bucky had walked out the door, you looked back down on the floor and noticed another picture, this one was ripped in half. Slowly picking it up you realized it was a picture that you and the rest of the Avengers had taken during Tony’s holiday party, the happy faces now ripped apart and stained.
————————————————————————
Bucky stayed outside your door for a few minutes, conflicted knowing that you wanted to be alone but he was worried that if he left your ex would come back and in his gut he knew that no matter how strong you were, being alone with him would not be the best thing in the world for you right now. He usually could help you out with anything but this was something completely different. Sure there were bad guys back in the 40s but growing up with sisters and a mother with a firm hand, he knew how to be a gentleman; and so did most men back then. He tried racking his brain for how he could help you out, when he finally got an idea. He made his way to his motorcycle that he had parked across the street the night before and headed towards the Compound.
After about half an hour later he made it back to the Compound and began his search; he looked around the living room and kitchen but it seemed empty, and after wandering for a few minutes he decided it would be pointless running around this Labyrinth. 
Sighing, he said, staring at the ceiling, “F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”
“Yes, Mr. Barnes?” An automated female voice responded back.
“Where’s Tony?”
“In his lab, sir.”
Bucky began his trek to the lab, “Thank you F.R.I.D.A.Y.”
“You are welcome sir.”
After a couple of minutes of walking he finally arrived at the entrance of the lab where he noticed Tony tinkering with the helmet of his suit, too busy to hear that Bucky had now entered his lab.
“Tony I need to ask you for a favor.”
Tony just sighed, not taking his eyes away from his helmet, “Kind of in the middle of something Barnes so you better make this quick.”
“It’s about [F/N].”
This seemed to cause Tony to take his eyes off of his project and stare at Bucky, puzzled.
“And what about [F/N]?” Tony asked, standing up and crossing arms.
Bucky knew you didn’t want anyone else to know about what happened, but he knew you needed help, so he chose his next words carefully, “Something happened and well her apartment was compromised. She needs a new-”
“Was it that douche-bag boyfriend of hers?” Tony stated flatly.
Bucky stared at Tony, bewildered,  “Ex-boyfriend.” He corrected.
Tony just hummed, after a few seconds of silence he finally started, “I can tell you don’t want to tell me whatever it is that happened and well whatever did happen doesn’t matter anymore so, tell me Cyborg, what is it you need me to do?”
Pushing aside the nickname he started to tell Tony his plan.
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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years
Text
Okay, so I wanted to get this out, like twelve hours ago, buttttt Tumblr is having issues with me today and it wouldn’t let me. So anyways, better late than never! 
This is a Christmas-y oneshot, set years Post-Mockingjay, with their first toastbaby. It’s completely canon-complacent and focuses on their lives and family after the war. It got way longer than I intended. Actually, originally, it was meant to be a Thanksgiving oneshot but uh... I took too long so it’s not Christmas. Only they call it Yuleday here, because I can’t imagine Panem calling it Christmas, idk why. Anyways, please read and enjoy! 
Oh yeah, and thank you @rosegardeninwinter for writing the song Katniss sings to her daughter in here!
Summary : Everlark spend Yuleday with their daughter and the rest of their blended family. 
The sticky vanilla liquid drying against the counter clings to my forearm. I wrinkle my nose slightly, the smell of vanilla too strong for my liking.
No, I prefer the smells of cinnamon and pine and fresh baked bread, I think to myself, as I watch my husband slip on a oven mitt and pull out a new loaf.
The kitchen is much messier than Peeta typically allows it to get, but he didn't have the time this week he anticipated he would to bake for our family's impending visit.
I lean unconsciously closer to the baked good, my mouth already watering at the sight. "Katniss," Peeta warns while he places a cake pan inside the oven, his voice growing stressed. "Be careful of the door." He gestures with his chin to the white-hot contraption just inches from my legs.
I roll my eyes at his fretting and pick up a piece of bread from a loaf we never finished last week. "Don't worry, I've been married to a baker for a while," I reply coyly as he begins to stir white, creamy homemade frosting around in a bowl. "I'm used to getting burned every so often."
It's his turn to send me a look now. "Yeah, because you forget to put a mitt on when touching the rack."
"Hmm, funny, my husband said at the time it was his fault for not warning me how hot it was," I shoot back as I dig my finger into the frosting bowl and pop the sugary substance into my mouth.
"That's sanitary," he deadpans and pushes me away from his workspace playfully.
"Oh, come on," I implore, pressing my hands against his chest as he tries to move me out of the kitchen and towards the living room. "Don't you ever sample your treats while making them?"
"No, Katniss," he replies, trying to remain serious but I see a smile peaking through. "Because I'm a professional."
I go to make a comment, pointing out every time before he's been less than professional in his workplace—with me, in particular. In the back room, with the most counterspace—when he leans down and plants a kiss on my lips. More than likely to shut me up.
"Yeah, this is sanitary," I tease against his mouth when we break apart ever so slightly.
Peeta leans back a little, keeping his chin still pressed against mine. "When have we ever cared about sanitary?"
I smirk up at him as his hands find my hips tenderly, his fingertips gliding underneath my shirt, touching the edge of my stomach. His lips find mine again or mine find his, but either way, in a matter of seconds I'm opening my mouth to let his tongue enter, eliciting a loud moan from him when my teeth graze his bottom lip.
"Mmm," he whispers when he pulls back again.
"Mmm?" I repeat, chuckling. "That's the best you can do?"
He tightens his arms around my waist, holding me to him. "I was about to say, I do enjoy taste testing my own frosting that way."
"Well, as long as you had a reason for invading my mouth."
"Like I said, I'm a strict professional."
Before I can reply back, there's a loud knock at our front door. Followed by another and then another, growing more noisy and cacophonous with the passing seconds.
Neither of us make a move to get the door. "Are you sure we have to invite Haymitch?" I inquire, my voice very serious.
"I believe I left that decision up to you, my love," Peeta replies cheekily, planting a small kiss on my nose.
"I can hear you two," Haymitch barks from the other side of the door before he knocks again, just as loud, and then rattles the doorknob. "Let me in, I'm freezing," he demands gruffly.
Peeta opens the door with a sardonic look, revealing our grouchy mentor and, at his feet, our tiny daughter, bundled up to keep from the cold. "Put a coat on, Haymitch."
"Why would I do that? I was coming here to sit by your fireplace all day anyway."
"Mommy!" Indigo shouts and races her chubby little legs in a beeline to me.
I scoop her up easily, having missed her for the entire forty-five minutes she was away from me. "Did you have a good time helping feed the geese?" I ask, in a tone I would have found absolutely embarrassing three years ago. I never even spoke to Prim in that tone.
"No, I hate them," she proclaims, very seriously, before laying her head against my shoulder exhaustedly. "They're very demanding cree-ters," she explains.
I nod, petting down her long, dark hair, moving it out of her little face, giving me access to the stunning blue eyes Peeta gave her. "They are very demanding creatures, aren't they?"
"But someone has to help Granpuh," she adds on the end, very matter-of-fact.
I shake my head at that, hoisting her higher on my hip. "I think Haymitch takes care of himself just fine, Indigo," I murmur sternly, as my old mentor passes by me, his eyes falling on the frosting bowl still sitting on the counter where we left it.
"Excuse me, Sweetheart. It's Grandpa to her," Haymitch corrects gruffly, pointing to my child.
Peeta hums as he leans against the doorframe, his shirt tightening up around his shoulders as he stretches his neck. "Katniss, remember when you were pregnant and Haymitch swore our kid wouldn't call him Grandpa?"
"I seem to remember that well."
"Yeah, well I seem to remember you saying no one is ever calling your daughter Indy and yet, here we are," the older man reminds me and all levity is gone from my face instantly, only to be replaced with irritation.
Three years ago when I gave birth, me and Peeta both agreed on the name Indigofera. Or, more like, he agreed because I liked the name.
I never expected to have a child. I spent majority of my life swearing I'd never procreate. The world I grew up in, the only world I knew, was nowhere I'd allow a child to grow up in. Not if I had any control of over.
Not when every year from the age of twelve to eighteen, my child could be stolen from me, could be taken away and tossed into a dressed up cage, forced to fight to the death, likely die on national television.
I'd never allow my child to live in that world.
That sentiment only grew stronger once a child of my own was no longer just a vague image, but a living, breathing, loud little being.
The idea of my Indigofera being subjected to the world I knew, the world that fell apart almost twenty years ago now, is beyond devastating to me.
I still wonder sometimes how Peeta ever was able to convince me to have a child.
As I think of him, he's right beside me, saying something quippy to Haymitch, before pulling Indigo out of my arms and unzipping her coat. I watch on at their exchange as she puts her tiny little hands on his cheeks, telling him happily about her time with Granpuh and the geese. I watch as Peeta's eyes brighten when he looks at her, I watch as she smiles more and more with his encouraging nods, prodding her to keep talking. I watch as she squeals out and laughs when he tickles her and kisses the side of her face.
And I still wonder, how on earth he convinced me to have a child.
But I'm thankful every day he did, from the bottom of my heart. That little girl is the most important being in both our lives and, though I had no idea at the time, we were not complete without her.
"Daddy, I'm hungry," Indigo complains as he starts to pull away, very obviously intending to head back to the kitchen and finish up baking and frosting.
"We're going to eat once Grandma and the others gets here, Bean," I promise, stepping in to scoop her back up.
"They're so slow," Indigo says, with no shame or remorse in her voice for the blunt statement.
"Indigo," Peeta chides gently. "That's not a nice thing to say."
"It's kind of true," I add sheepishly after a moment, agreeing with our daughter.
My husband just rolls his eyes at me now. "You're a bad influence on her."
"Oh, give me a break, Peeta!" I exclaim defensively. "You gave her chocolate pancakes for breakfast today. I think you're the bad influence."
"I made them for you too, Katniss," he reminds me wryly.
"That's a little different-"
"Hello," Haymitch interrupts as he plops down on the sofa, his usual spot in our house. "Some of us would like to eat Yuleday Dinner tonight."
"And?"
"And that's not going to happen if we don't let the boy work, Sweetheart."
The boy. Haymitch never did get new nicknames for us, despite Peeta being a man, a husband and a father for quite some time now.
Peeta hauls Haymitch up by the arm from his seat. "If you're going to be in my house, you're going to help me with dinner," he says firmly and Indigo giggles against my neck, watching her daddy drag her grandpa into the kitchen.
Haymitch being grandpa was only ever meant to be a joke. Neither me nor Peeta ever intended for Indigo to actually view Haymitch Abernathy as her grandfather.
Though it makes sense. He's been a constant in our lives since we were sixteen. And even when me and Haymitch are at each other's throats, he still shows up here, sitting on the couch, expecting dinner, at least once a week. He regularly shows up at the bakery Peeta runs now almost entirely on his own, asking for free samples. And he still loves our daughter like his own flesh and blood.
The only true gripe I have about Haymitch and Indigo's relationship is the nickname Indy. I knew when we named her Indigofera, after the mysterious plant that my father used to jokingly say was about as real to us as unicorns—the color plant was all but extinct long before I was even born—that her natural nickname would be Indigo. Peeta himself says we gave her a mouthful of a name, choosing to go as far as adding in a middle name that we both lacked ourselves. But something about the nickname Indy is extremely unappealing to me.
And as her mother, as the person who grew her and carried her inside me, and loves her more than all the things in the world combined, I think I should have final say on what she's called.
I'm abruptly pulled out of my thoughts by a soft, little hand pulling my tangled hair. "Mommy, what time does Finn get here?"
Of course, that's who Indigo is focused on. It's not just my mother arriving today to join us for our Yuleday Dinner. It's everyone that me and Peeta consider family.
Including Annie and Finn, her child with the sensual, alluring, kind-hearted Finnick Odair. The child who has taken after his father in ways that seemed unimaginable.
Indigo knows, even at three-years-old, that we always treat Finnick's memory with respect. We never forget him or anyone else that ever helped us make the country a safe place.
Of course, she's too young to fully understand. What she understands is Finn, who at eighteen, has all his father's looks and charm, is her suto-cousin, is her playmate and brings her presents. And as far as I'm concerned, that's all she needs to understand.
"In an hour," I reply gently, bringing myself back to reality. Pushing her dirty hair back, I lean my nose against her's, letting my eyes grow bigger. "You know what that means?"
She lets out a loud shriek of excitement and all but kicks her way out of my arms. "Bath time!" She yells as she propels herself excitedly towards the stairs, going on all fours to struggle her way up independently.
I stay inches behind her, making sure I'm able to catch her if she should tumble, but the precaution isn't necessary. Indigo gets to the top stair and takes off running towards the bathroom down the hall.
"Lots of bubbles," Indigo commands in a very serious tone as she watches me pour a cap full into her bath water.
I remind myself for the thousandth time to send Effie a thank you note for bath bubbles she sent weeks ago. My old escort is one of the few people I haven't kept in close contact with over the years and it's no surprise really. Me and Peeta never stopped looking at the Capitol with disdain, perhaps even more so after the war, and Effie, even with a good heart deep inside, is Capitol, through and through.
But she's still sent sporadic gifts here and there over the years. She's still called Haymitch dozens of times since the end of the war. She's still kept her mouth shut about Indigo's existence for the last three years and for that, I am indebted to my old escort for life.
Peeta and I agreed early on in my pregnancy that Indigo would never be property of the Capitol. It didn't matter how much safer the world was now, or how many new faces have come along for people to fawn over in the last eighteen years, or how adorable Indigo is, we both vowed with everything we had that no one outside our family and friends and community would know of her birth. If I did anything in my life, it would be protect my child.
The way I failed to protect my sister.
Even almost twenty years later, the memory still stung. The image of my sister being blown apart, right before my eyes, is permanently ingrained in my mind. I still wake up from nightmares, reliving Prim's last moments alive before the bombs took her away forever.
But the once searing pain had faded into a dull ache, a deep imbedded hurt that never went away entirely but instead became a part of who I was.
I help Indigo into the tub and instantly get to work, washing her up as she splashes around and plays with her bubbles. Technically Effie sent them to me, along with a lot of other useless items that I all but threw out immediately, but they were better used for Indigo. Whereas I saw the impracticality in many of Effie's gifts, Indigo saw a new luxury, a new toy, a new activity or adventure she could have.
It's the Peeta in her. It's his appreciation for beauty that he passed down to our daughter.
I've told him countless times in the last few years that if she turns out to have a massive spending addiction or have desires to live a luxurious life, it's all on him.
"Alright, eyes shut," I warn dramatically, waiting for her to cover her big blue eyes with her tiny palms before dousing her head with water.
After she's dried and dressed she runs into the kitchen barefoot and immediately flings herself onto Peeta, gripping his prosthetic leg. "Daddy, look how clean I am!"
He chuckles as he finishes wiping the counter off before scooping her up. "Imagine how clean you could be every day if Mommy didn't take you to the woods to play in the dirt?"
He's teasing me and I know it, but I still shoot him a dirty look. "She gets dirtier in Daddy's kitchen than the woods."
"Dirty? From baking?" He directs the questions towards the three-year-old in his arms. "No!"
Indigo gives him a shy smile before a loud giggle escapes and nodding her head, affirming his point. "See," he points out, gesturing to her grinning face.
"Daddy is the bad influence around here," I say as I pull her from his arms.
"Only because Mommy corrupted me," he says back as he moves to grab the broom, the last step in his clean up routine before the rest of our guests arrive.
He leans around me and Indigo to grab the cleaning device, before not so subtly sneaking a kiss on his way back. I just look to our daughter and, indicating to her father with my chin, wrinkle my nose dramatically, causing her to laugh more.
"Mommy's mad at you," she informs him, finding this very humorous.
"Hmm, is she?" Peeta asks, as if he's shocked by the news.
"Yes," I affirm. "For implying I dirty my child, when it's you who covers her in flour and cake batter every other day."
"Oh, well, Indy, whatever will we do to gain Mommy's forgiveness?" He isn't gaining any sort of forgiveness from me by using her annoying nickname. Still he pretends not to notice my narrowing eyes, as if after eighteen years he doesn't know me like the back of his hand.
"Bake her somting!" She exclaims, clapping and excited again. She's always excited. I'm not even sure if she's mine some days with how enthusiastic this little human can be.
"Hmm, I could," he agrees, but then dramatically he gazes around the kitchen, as if seeing it for the first time. "You know what though? I just cleaned it all up in here. So I guess I can't bake Mommy something. I guess I'll have to try other methods."
As if he planned it the entire time—which, without a doubt, he did—Peeta leans in gently and starts pressing kisses to my skin, right where my jaw meets my neck. I resist at first and so his lips move upwards, towards my forehead, towards my nose and then my chin.
"Okay," I relent, laughing in spite of myself, batting him away. "Okay, you're forgiven." I reward him with a smile as he moves his lips from peppering my face to my mouth itself. He only gives me a chaste kiss, since I'm holding his daughter, but it's enough to make my stomach flip like it did on the beach, when we were seventeen.
We were also in a death match, neither of us intending to live through the following day, but that fact somehow has separated itself in the almost twenty years since the war from the moment between me and Peeta, and for that I'm grateful. I'm grateful for my mind compartmentalizing itself, for the horrors witnessed and forever printed inside my head somehow shifting away from specific moments in the games, moments I can now look back on more fondly than when I was seventeen.
I look at Peeta again then, as he gives me a sweet smile and turns away to start sweeping the floor, to rid it of the thick layer of flour split while baking, and I'm suddenly intensely grateful for the last eighteen years. I'm suddenly intensely grateful for the almost two decades he's given me, that had been the best years of my life.
Of course, the little squirming creature in my arms have only made the years better, and I kiss her face gently, murmuring softly, "Let me braid your hair," against her little pink cheek.
She obediently sits in front of me and starts humming as I comb the knots from the long dark locks she inherited from me. "What're you singing?" I ask, smiling, already knowing what song she's trying to hum.
"Bloo sky," she replies simply, before going back to humming again to herself. I smirk softly, waiting for her to ask me to take over.
And, of course, with the predictability of a three-year-old, Indigo turns around abruptly after a long moment of silence with a frazzled look overtaking her big blue eyes. "Mommy?"
"Yes, baby?"
"Can you sing bloo sky? I can't 'member all the words."
My smirk turns to a full on smile now, as I begin to twist her now soft and silky hair into a braid. "Don't let your mind be troubled, dear. Don't you get lost in fear. For through all the storm clouds and darkest days, I promise I will be here."
Indigo beams at me, tipping her head back to watch me sing before her own little voice, lisp and wrong words and all—though, I have inexpressible pride that her melody is perfectly on pitch—joins in with me.
"And a blue sky will come shining through. And a blue sky just for me and you," I sing as she accidentally says too instead of through. "Through all the storm clouds and darkest days, there's a blue sky for just me and for you," we finish.
"And for Daddy," Indigo suddenly asserts, like she forgot him until now.
I laugh gently. "Yes, but that won't fit the rhyme."
"What's a rhyme?"
"Nevermind, Indigo." I can barely hold back a chuckle as I finish her braid, tying it with the band around my wrist. Since she grew hair long enough to get caught on things, I've always made a special point in carrying extra hair ties for her, everywhere we go.
"Sweetheart, am I expected to go grab our guests in my car? Because I don't have enough room so someone's going to have to hang onto the bumper-"
"Don't worry, Haymitch," I cut off, laughing again, at the image of him attempting to gather up our blended family and friends in what he refers to as a car. "And I didn't miss you saying our guests," I add, turning away from my child to give him a look.
"I helped the boy clean the kitchen, I get to take ownership over the guests as well."
"Grandpuh?" Indigo's little voice peeps. "I wanna go for a ride before Finn gets here."
"Finn?" Haymitch picks. "Every person you've ever met is coming over today and it's Finn Odair you're excited to see?"
But Indigo adores—and I mean, adores—Finn and he's always been so good with her, more patient than any typical teenager is expected to be, and his arrival is all she's really thinking about.
"Haymitch, stop giving my daughter crap and take her for a ride in town," Peeta calls from the kitchen, evidently by the clanging noise, putting away the last of the dishes. "Hurry up too, I don't want her out there when the crowd comes in."
We never allow Indigo out into town during the busy times a day. During the times when the crowds, even here in the once decimated Twelve, grow too large for either Peeta or my liking. Too many opportunities for a stranger to grab her, too many chances for her to get lost, too many things could go wrong. Too many dangers exist for a three-year-old, even in this world that is miles better than the one we used to know.
Peeta and I do our best to put the past behind us, but we both still have times when the memories of war and bloodshed and cruelty creep in, and it's on those days all I can imagine is the world shifting again, some sort of disorder or disarray ruining the peace that will always feel foreign to me. It's on those days all I can see is the games coming back, is someone taking Indigo from me, putting her through what no child should have to endure, her sweet, little innocence being ripped away violently. Someone taking me or Peeta from her, her pure heart being hardened, the blue eyes that sometimes I swear I could see my sister in turning ice cold.
It's on those days I shut and lock the doors, I refuse to open the blinds, I refuse to let my daughter out of my sight. It's those days I beg Peeta not to run to the bakery, to just stay with us, to just not go where I can't see either of them.
It's on those days I plan what I will do if the world does fall to its knees again, if my worst fears when even thinking of the abstract idea of having a child come to life. I never tell anyone of these thoughts, but on the days Peeta has a flashback or can't sleep, on the days when he feels like he’s still seventeen, locked inside Snow's mansion, a tortured shadow of the wonderful boy with the golden heart, on the days he paints horrific images he'll never let our daughter see, I know he makes his own plan too.
As always, Indigo breaks me out of my thoughts as they run dark, jumping up excitedly, ready to go for a ride in Haymitch's car. It's actually more resemblant of a cart, with just room for three people if you squeeze, and no doors in sight. But she loves it and it makes her happy and after everything else, I know I can trust Haymitch with my child.
I fix her little green overall dress, straightening her dandelion patterned shirt underneath. "Don't let Haymitch get your dirty," I instruct very clearly.
"Yes, Mommy."
"And don't mess up your hair."
"Yes, Mommy."
"And don't be too long."
"Yes, Mommy."
"And don't talk to strangers."
"Okay, can I go already?"
Both Haymitch and Peeta laugh at me and it takes all my restraint not to say something profane in front of Indigo.
As soon as they leave, I get to work, helping Peeta straighten up the house before our guests arrive.
As I'm finishing fluffing and re-arranging the pillows, two warm hands come into contact with my waist. "Excuse me, sir, I'm working right now."
Peeta's arms wrap entirely around me now, his lips on my neck. "Don't worry, I know the boss. She'll... understand."
"Will she?" I cock an eyebrow at him teasingly.
He nods confidently. "She rather enjoys activities such as these."
I'm about to coyly ask what activities he's implying when his lips trail up further, finding residence closer and closer to my mouth.
His lips have just contacted mine when I whisper breathlessly, unable to stop myself, "the second our daughter leaves, you just can't help yourself."
His kiss turns to a laugh. "She does tend to take up a lot of the bed space. We have to catch these opportunities for us when we can."
I chuckle in response, because it's true. As much as we both love our child—more than words could ever say—lately, her fear of sleeping in her room down the hall has meant we've gained a new, invasive bedmate.
"That we do," I agree, smirking now as I fiddle with his sky blue collar that matched his eyes. "I see had a wardrobe change."
"Mhmm. Thought I would look nice for Yuleday."
"Is there someone special you're expecting to see? Someone you want to dress up for?" I tease, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to the center of his chest, right at my eye level.
"There is, actually," he affirms slyly. "Two people, in fact. Both women. One a little smaller than the other. Both have dark hair and loud voices—"
"Excuse you?"
"Both have me wrapped entirely around their fingers," he adds, full on smiling now.
"Good save," I retort, about to turn away when I feel his hands grip the underside of my thighs and hoist me up against him.
I pretzel myself around his body, unable to help the girlish noise of surprise that slips out as he holds me in his arms. "We only have maybe ten minutes until Indigo and Granpuh," he imitates his three-year-old, but his nose teasingly presses against mine and his voice is very suggestive, "come back. We should... make the most of it... before we have to entertain guests all day."
I return the glint his eyes, my desires in line with his. Our lips meet halfway in the minimal space still remaining between us, and we waste no time before our tongues begin to intertwine, twirl and gently twist.
I feel his hand sliding up my ratty, torn shirt, just barely crossing over my stomach to my ribs when a knock at the door suddenly catches us off-guard.
"Haymitch isn't usually back this fast," I say as Peeta—very reluctantly—sets me down.
But as soon as the words slip from my lips, a thousand thoughts race through my mind.
What if Haymitch had lost Indigo somehow, in the crowd that always grows large on Yuleday? What if someone took my baby? What if she's scared and can't find me and I don't even know it yet because I let an old drunk man take her out of my sight? What if she fell out of Haymitch's cart and smacked her head on the town's icy cobblestones? What if the car spun out and hit a tree and now one of our neighbors is coming to tell us the grave news?
I'm holding my breath, my heart suddenly beating a million miles a second, as my husband pulls open the door.
Behind the door is not Haymitch nor a random member of our community. It's Delly. Delly Cartwright-Bagley and her husband and three children in tow.
A half hour early.
I can't help the reaction that slips from my lips, the stress of my fears overpowering my filter. "Would it have killed you to show up on time?"
Peeta shoots me a look but I ignore him. Delly however is unfazed by my irritation. As is her husband, Kanon.
"Happy Yuleday, Katniss!" Delly beams and pushes her plate of frosted cookies into Peeta's hands to hug me tightly. "And we only showed up early because your husband invited us to," she adds, talking too loudly into my ear.
My eyes narrow at Peeta but he's clearly just as unhappy with himself, since now our plans have been interrupted.
"I said they could come early and help," Peeta defends slightly, just as Delly's husband notices the button I must have unknowingly undid.
"Mmm, well you two could go upstairs while we finish getting everything ready for the rest of the guests," Kanon teases, ruffling Peeta's conspicuously tousled hair as he leads the three young ones inside from the cold.
Delly pulls back from me then and leads her eldest, Evelyn Malia Bagley—but, much like with Indigofera, is known solely by Evie—to the kitchen, with a high level of familiarity.
The confidence inside my house is only natural at this point, considering the relationship with our family and Delly's has grown much closer than I ever could have anticipated.
Delly is Peeta's childhood best friend, and therefore after the war she was one of the biggest supporters and greatest confidants to him in his darkest hours. The times I couldn't do anything, because I was the source of his fear, of his anger or his pain. 
Or rather, Snow made him believe I was.
Delly's presence in Peeta's life was far more helpful than any over the phone therapist could have ever been, and for that I am eternally grateful. However, I never expected her to be a close friend to me as well.
Begrudgingly on my part some days, but it was fact. If I ever needed anything, if I was having a hard time, if I ever wanted to talk with someone besides Peeta—which is rare but happens every so often—I'm still shocked to realize Delly Cartwright-Bagley is one of the first people I'll turn to. I’m still shocked to realize the girl who once had baby fat and yellow hair, who sat two rows ahead of me in school and chewed her bubblegum obnoxiously loud, is one of my closest companions. 
She's surprisingly more understanding and wise underneath her overly perky personality and boisterously loud voice.
And, of course, the man she married also helps the equation. Kanon is a kind, tall man, a few years older than the rest of us. He's rather quiet but will poke a joke at someone he knows well enough. He's hardworking and loyal and intuitive.
He's the exact opposite of Delly, which sounds like it should be a recipe for disaster but in reality has proven to be a wonderful occurrence in everyone's life.
After all, we all let out a sigh of relief when she could quit working at the medicine factory.
For all of Delly's good qualities—and there are a great many—she's not exactly an ideal factory worker. Or manual laborer. Or cleaning personnel.
When Delly took over operating the counter at Kanon's Candy Store, which unlike the bakery, is more of a novelty than an essential, everything sort of fell into place.
"Aunt Katty!" I hear a small voice shriek, pushing her older brother out of the way to sprint into my arms.
I barely have time to catch little Kendall, Delly's youngest child before she’s flung herself onto me with a force only her mother could have matched.
"Hi, Sweetie," I all but coo, disgusting even myself a bit.
I hug her almost as tightly as she hugs me, and I intentionally ignore Peeta's smirk in my direction.
Okay, so I'm not the most subtle about having a favorite out of Delly's litter. But Kendall is only three months different in age than my Indigo, so I have the excuse of spending the most time with the little wild, rambuctious thing.
Although my child is by far the ringleader in their friendship. A fact I try not to think of too often, as I could easily imagine a multitude of things Indigofera could get into if I don't keep a close eye on her.
"Where's Indy?" Kendall asks as I cart her to the kitchen. She's the only one I let that nickname slide with.
"She went for a ride with Haymitch."
Speaking of my child only increases my anxiety for her whereabouts. I suddenly regret letting my old mentor take her at all, as my gut continues to constrict painfully, thinking of every scenario in which she could be taken away from me. Forever.
My only job, the only one I truly cannot live with the idea of failing, is keeping my daughter safe.
I failed once before to protect someone I loved more than my own life. Twice, I correct myself, looking at Peeta, who's now guiding five year old Rhys by hand to the kitchen.
I cannot fail Indigofera, like I failed both Prim and Peeta.
Delly senses the tension building inside of me as I come to stand beside her, Kendall still on my hip. "Haymitch would never let Indigo get hurt," she says without preamble. To her credit though, she says it quieter than her typical range of volume. "C'mon. It's his granddaughter."
The four of us laugh, the fact that a little person with giant blue eyes and a constant pair of messy braids is what entirely melted Haymitch Albernathy's heart still laughable three years later.
I let Kendall down and watch as she and her siblings begin to set the table dutifully, with more order and structure than I had at their age.
I feel the everlasting anxiety that's making a permanent home inside my gut suddenly release, like a knife being pulled out of a stab wound, as Indigo's voice fills the room.
"Mommy!" She yells, racing into the kitchen as fast as her little legs can carry her. "Look at what Gamma Sae gave me," she exclaims, holding up a stuffed bear for me to see.
I don't acknowledge the toy or her hair that's coming out of the braid I only just did, or even the grass stain on her dandelion patterned shirt. I just yank her up into my arms and squeeze her tight.
I should be ashamed of myself, that my three-year-old knows when I've worried or been in distress over her, but all I am is awed when she lays her little head on my shoulder and whispers softly, "I'm okay, Mommy. Granpuh wouldn't let anything hurt me."
There is an awkward pause in the room for a moment, only noticeable to the adults. I don't know if it's because they understand my anxiety—Peeta, at least, typically does—or if it's because they think I'm insane, but no one speaks until Indigo shuffles herself downwards and immediately tackles Kendall, excitedly showing her the stuffed animal Greasy Sae gave her.
Delly, as per usual, breaks the silence. "You know, if you two ever want to finish the... activity you were engaged in when we showed up, I will gladly take care of Indigo for an afternoon."
I roll my eyes, long past the point where Delly could make me blush with her innuendos. "I'll keep that in mind."
Peeta is chuckling as he finishes drying off a now clean cooking bowl. "You're a more appealing babysitter than Haymitch," he says, his eyes falling on the older man, who's standing with the kids now, not-so-subtly keeping closer to Indigo, as he isn't too fond of most children in general.
"You sure we wouldn't be ruining your fun?" I tease now, looking at Kanon, who's arranging the cookies they brought onto a different plate.
"Katniss, we have three kids," Delly all but deadpans. A rarity for her. "All under eight years old. One more won't make a difference."
Kanon speaks up then as me and Peeta snicker. "We also learned to be faster," he adds slyly, looking directly at me. "The joy of having a few kids. Makes you a better multi-tasker."
"I so miss when you used to be quiet," I say in a monotone as the doorbell, that no one uses, unexpectedly rings.
"Peeta, how many people did you invite early?" I snap.
He holds up his hands defensively. "No one else, I swear."
"Sure."
But when I open the door, revealing my mother, Annie and Finn, I know he's got to be telling the truth. He wouldn't have invited my mother early for anything. The tension that existed years ago is all but gone—especially since Indigo's birth, the event that drew us closer than we had been since I was a child—but still, Peeta remains cautious. When it comes to my mother, he leaves her visitation completely up to me.
Her husband, Rod Marin, doesn't attend our celebration however. I don't know if it's the chilly reception he may or may not receive from me, or if it's the fact that my mom doesn't want to bring Rod's daughters with them, but either way, she has attended our home alone for the last five years and, as selfish as that may be, I prefer it this way.
Still, I greet her warmly. "Hi, Mom," I say as she hugs me tightly.
"Sorry we're a little early, honey," she professes as she steps into the house that was once her home too.
"That's fine," I assure, even though I'm not dressed or ready yet.
Annie is next and she instantly throws her arms around my neck. "I missed you," she murmurs in the sweet, gentle way she's always had since I met her in District Thirteen.
"We missed you too," Peeta calls from around the corner as he comes into our eyesight, holding a very excited Indigo in his arms.
"Finn!" She screams as she all but launches herself away from Peeta and into the eighteen year old's arms.
"Hi!" He exclaims as he catches her and swings her upwards, returning the overzealous squeeze she's giving his neck. "How's my best girl?"
"She's gweat!" Indigo beams and my heart melts a little, watching her with the boy who looks so much like his father. The boy who's always been such a joy in life. The boy who saved his mother eighteen years ago, who has been nothing but respectful and kind and funny to me and Peeta, who has shown incredible maturity at such a young age.
Then again, at his age I had already been through two games and a war. Peeta had already been hijacked and fought his way back. I'd already lost my little sister. Me and Peeta had our toasting at only a year older, at nineteen. Maybe eighteen isn't a young as it seems to me now, looking at youthful Finn, who I watched learn to walk and talk and swim and tie a knot.
Or maybe I was just as young when all that tragedy occurred. Maybe I just felt older because of the circumstances in which I was born, because of the world in which we lived.
I shake my head slightly, trying to shake the bad thoughts away.
"Indy, guess what?" Finn prompts enthusiastically—but not without shooting me a teasing glance, knowing my distain for her nickname.
"What?"
"I brought something."
"What?"
Both Peeta's and my curiosity has been peaked now, just as much as our child's. Annie's hesitant glance, that looks both hopeful and apprehensive, only fuels my confusion more.
"Well, there's a new tradition in some of the other districts that I think you'd find fun," he explains, but his eyes flicker to me and I raise an eyebrow, wondering what he could be suggesting. "You see you cut down a tree—or sometimes people in One or Two buy a plastic tree—and then you bring it home and decorate it."
Indigo claps her hands together, too excited and too precious for me to disappoint her. "I want to do it!" She yells, with an exuberance only a three-year-old could possess. "Kenny, we're gonna decorate a tee!"
I hear a variant of what being exclaimed in the other room, where my mother, Haymitch and the Bagley's still are.
"Where do we buy decorations?" My child asks, abruptly serious, the details of this tradition becoming clearer in her little mind.
"Indy," Finn quickly tries to corral. "I brought decorations with me, but we need a tree and..." He hesitates, looking at me now.
"And?" She prompts, confused.
"We have to ask your momma if it's alright to get one. Since it's her house we'll be doing this in." He winks at me, then turns his eyes pleading, half mocking me.
Indigo doesn't have to even feign the look, she naturally inherited that sweet, wide eyed, begging glint. Either from Prim or Peeta—probably both—and I'm powerless against it.
"Fine," I relent dramatically. Indigo rewards me by jumping from Finn's arms to mine and kicking her little chubby legs excitedly. "But not until after dinner," I condition.
"We should probably go get the tree now though?" Peeta suddenly speaks up, looking at the clock on the wall. "Before it gets dark?"
I shoot him a glare over Indigo's head. "It won't get dark for hours. And why do you seem not surprised by this?"
Peeta shrugs too innocently and when Annie giggles and nudges his shoulder, I realize they had been conspiring behind my back.
"Daddy is definitely the bad influence around here, Indigofera," I declare, as my husband walks closer to us, leans down and kisses my hair.
"We love you," he says teasingly, against my crown. "Even if you are a stick in the mud sometimes."
Before I can respond, likely with a snappy comment, our daughter pops her head off my shoulder. "Daddy, I want to pick out the tee."
Of course she does. That girl has been in charge of us since the day she was born.
"Okay, Bean. Ask your mother if it's alright," he tells her, but it's just a formality at this point, as to not ruffle me further. She's his kid too, he can take her to get a tree if he wants.
"Mommy, can I-"
"Yes," I say exasperatedly, giving Peeta a look as I hand him Indigo.
"Don't worry, Sweetheart," he whispers, leaning down and touching his nose to mine. "I'll take care of our girl."
"I know," I sigh, because I do know that. I've never not trusted him with our child. Even if I prefer to keep them both here with me. Even if I'd have preferred to keep her inside of me, where I knew I could protect her always.
I can't keep the smile off my face though when he pecks my lips unexpectedly and then my nose. "We won't be long."
"Better not be," I call as he grabs their coats and carries my little girl out the door, following behind Finn and Kanon and the Bagley kids. "Or else I'm eating without you."
"Same here," Delly calls from the kitchen, though they probably can't hear her.
"Go change," Annie suggests, touching my messy braid gently. "I'll go help Delly and your mom."
I shoot her a grateful smile and make my way upstairs. In the years since the war both Annie and Johanna have remained, shockingly—maybe only to me—constants in mine and Peeta's lives. They both returned to their home districts, but through visits and telegraphs and phone calls, even just for Jo to call me an idiot, they both became a part of a new blended family I didn't even know was being created.
Though I am grateful now for it. Beyond words. As neither me nor Peeta can offer Indigo any sort of extended family, her having Johanna, Delly, Annie and their families somehow fills the space left empty from the loss the war gave us.
As if on cue, just as I'm thinking of her, I hear a loud rapt on the bathroom door and know Johanna has arrived.
"Come in," I yell as I pull on a dark green—which for some reason is an acceptable color on Yuleday—sweater and push a brush through my hair viciously. I'm just moving on to rebraiding it simply when Jo enters.
"Hello, Brainless," her voice rings out as she steps into the bathroom.
"I'm shocked you knocked."
"I didn't wanna see you indecently."
"Wouldn't be the first time."
"Probably won't be the last."
We both let out a laugh and—pretending to be at least a little begrudgingly about it—embrace for a moment.
"Missed your stupidity these last couple of months," she murmurs as she pulls back.
"My stupidity? You once almost shot an arrow at Haymitch."
"You thought that was an accident?"
I can't help but snort as I turn back to the mirror and finish up my braid. "How's Christopher?" I ask, my tone a little more serious.
But she just shrugs, her gaze focusing now on Indigo's tiny comb. The one with the diamonds that Effie sent and Peeta insisted we keep.
Christopher is the man Jo, almost against her will, fell for almost two years ago. She refuses to commit to him entirely, especially since he has a son not much older than Indigo and that prospect alone terrifies her, but when Peeta visited her last year he told me that Christopher and his son, David, without a doubt live in that house with her.
"I can't believe you keep stuff from Effie Trinket?" Jo segues gracelessly. "Especially for a three-year-old."
"Blame Indigo's father. Both for her love of fancy things and his compliance in letting her have them."
She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, because you make sure she only gets the bare necessities."
"Okay, who's side are you on?"
"The one who makes the dinner around here."
"I hunt it."
"He stuffs it and bakes it."
"This feels personal. Is this because I didn't save you any pumpkin cake or sweet nut bread from Harvest Dinner?"
"Now that you mention it-"
Johanna is abruptly cut off by the sound of a yelp. Only, instead of the sound being a distress call or a bone chilling cry, it's one of excitement.
"Johanna Mason, get down here!" Annie yells, way too excited to be beckoning Jo of all people.
She rolls her eyes—a little too good-naturedly to be as annoyed as she'd like for me to believe—before exiting the bathroom and heading down to greet Annie at the bottom of the staircase.
I chuckle to myself, marveling at their odd friendship, before brushing my teeth and washing my face and heading down to join them as well.
I almost run headfirst into my husband as I walk by the front door. "That was quick," I note breathlessly as Peeta catches me by the waist, burying his now chilly face into my neck. Probably more for warmth than romance.
"Hmm, Indy-Indigo," he corrects himself humorously. "She is very decisive. Saw the tree she wanted and looked at no second options."
I wrap my arms around his neck and peer over his shoulder. "And where is the little decisive thing now?"
"Having a snowball fight with Finn and Kendall in the snow. You'll be happy to know your daughter is winning."
I roll my eyes. "Of course she is. Well, I guess we better start the fire to warm her up when she's done."
"Hypothermia would be a bummer on Yuleday," he agrees cheekily.
"For us more than her."
"Pretty much."
Inside the living room, Kanon and Haymitch—but mostly Kanon—are finishing setting up a newly trimmed tree, right by the back door.
"Sweetheart, it's your dream," Haymitch taunts. "Having part of the woods in your house."
"Did he knock a few back on the way to grab a tree?" I ask Peeta quietly, as he wraps his arms around my waist from behind.
"Probably. I was busy watching the four little ones, I didn't have time to monitor an old man too."
"Should have put Finn on Haymitch watch."
"You know, I can hear you," our old mentor barks as Kanon finishes putting up the tree.
"Indigo!" I hear my mother exclaim, as the front door opens again.
I spin around in time to see a little person, shorter than all the other kids, practically dance her way into the house. "Gamma!"
"Hey," I halt her, pulling away from Peeta. "Let's not track snow into the house, baby."
Delly and Annie both help dust off the other three while I pull Indigo's scarf, boots, hat, gloves and coat off and toss them all aside carelessly. Much to Peeta's dismay, as he sees the snow fly all over the entryway.
"Let's not track snow into the house, baby," he imitates.
"Shut up."
As soon as she's free from the white frozen slush, she launches herself towards my mother. "Hi!"
"Hi, sweet girl! How'd you like playing in the snow?"
"It was fweezing. But I beat Finn and Kenny at our snowball fight so it was worth it." She smiles up at my mother proudly and for a moment, Indigo looks exactly like Peeta and I am amazed at that fact somehow. Considering, at first glance, she's all me besides the eyes.
Except sometimes she looks at me and I see my sister at her age, so deeply ingrained in her eyes, in her mannerisms, in her voice, that I'm taken back to being child again myself.
"You're a little messy," my mother also notes, pushing back the hair that has fallen from her braid.
"Well I like to play so, things happen." Her little shrug is one of the most endearing things about her.
"Your mother also loved to get messy."
I furrow my brows. "I was always very clean, Mom."
"Oh I doubt that," Peeta disagrees and has the audacity to laugh, standing right beside me now. "You aren't even very clean now."
I turn to him, pressing my face close to his, trying to look threatening as I push my nose against his. "I will get you."
"Oh, please do," he eggs on, his smile turning into a grin.
"I have a bow, I could literally-"
"Is dinner almost ready yet?" Rhys, Delly's only son, complains.
Chuckling slightly, I pull my face away from a still smirking Peeta. Thankfully, no one else noticed our exchange, aside from my mother, who's too polite to do more than smile.
"Yeah, Rhys, dinner's all ready," Peeta says, putting his hand on the back of the little boy's head and guiding him to the table.
Dinner is only slightly chaotic. Four kids under eight-years-old, a teenager who can match Haymitch's humor effortlessly, Jo and Peeta and I swinging insults back and forth like compliments and then Annie, who's quiet and blissful spirit can't be tempered for anything in this world on holidays, and my mother, who feigns oblivious to the chaos surrounding her, all adds up to an interesting affair. Add in the stupid stray cat my daughter adores meowing at the back door and it's practically a circus.
But it's a circus I have found myself loving, more and more, since Indigo joined us. Since I somehow made the most beautiful and intelligent and spirited human being, somehow the dreary outlook I used to hold on this new post-war holiday has turned to excitement.
Maybe it's the fact that eighteen years have passed since the war that stole my sister from me. Or maybe it's that I'm looking forward to who's here now, who's experiencing this holiday with me, who I get to share this day with and witness their enthusiasm.
My daughter.
I never thought, in a million years, I'd have a child of my own. I never thought once that she'd come to exist, that I'd feel safe enough or strong enough or brave enough, to bear bringing something to delicate, something so wonderful and precious and breakable, into this world.
But she has lit up my life in ways I didn't even imagine possible. I thought I was happy, blissfully happy most days, with Peeta. And I was. But that was before I saw what life was like with Indigo and now I can't even picture how miserable and downcast this day would be without her.
As the sky begins to darken outside and Peeta stands up to light candles along the windowsills while Kanon adds logs to the fireplace, my child suddenly starts squirming in her seat. "Can I decorate the tree now?" She asks as I wipe her face with a cloth napkin.
"In a minute, Bean."
"I want to now!" She whines as I scrub the leftover food that didn't make her mouth off her cheek.
"Indigofera," Peeta says in a warning tone.
"I wanna decorate the tree right now," she says in a slightly quieter voice.
"Okay," I murmur, smiling slightly as I drop my hand from her face and let her go. "Go decorate, Sweetie."
With my consent, she practically flies out of her chair and—nearly knocking Evie over—pushes her way to the bag of ornaments Finn brought from Four.
"She didn't get a nap today," I explain to Johanna and my mother, who watched the almost tantrum unfold.
"You were the same," my mother replies and then chuckles. I toss her a look, before I spot Finn lifting Indigo up to place a trident high upon the tree.
My eyes aren't perfect but from where I'm sitting I can make out the name Finnick Odair gracefully carved underneath and my gaze falls on Annie.
She offers me a knowing smile and shrugs. "He wanted to handmake the ornaments himself. Meaningful ones you can't just buy. I wasn't going to discourage him."
I nod, a feeling of pride for some strange reason flooding me. I didn't raise Finn. The indefinite length of my sentence to Twelve was never revisited and, in truth, I had little reason to care enough to fight it. But it did mean I wasn't able to make it to Four, to see my mom or Annie and Finn at my own whim.
But Annie has always made a point to come here, every so often since the war ended. She's written letters and called and sent photos, consistently, for so many years that I've lost track. They were both here the day after I had Indigo. They've never missed any of our birthdays. And I've watched that boy, with his father's tan skin, bronze hair and sea green eyes grow into a man who'd make Finnick proud.
And it's nearly impossible for me not to feel so sort of pride in him as well. If for nothing else, the way he treats my daughter. Always patient, always kind, always ready to play.
"Where'd he get this idea?" I ask, if for no other reason, just to change the subject before I get visibly sentimental. "To decorate a tree, I mean."
Annie's expression shifts and changes slightly. "Coral McGonigill."
Johanna's ears almost noticeably perk up. "Is she is his new flavor of the month?"
"Well, she's lasted for several months," Annie corrects, but doesn't seem too enthusiastic of this girl.
"Do you like her?" I ask, my brow furrowing. I don't even want to imagine my child dating. The idea of her spending time alone, with anyone I don't personally know already drives me nearly to the brink of insanity, but to add in teenage impulses and hormones? My skin is crawling at the thought and I feel a wave of nausea come over me suddenly.
Before Annie can answer though, Haymitch is cutting into the conversation.
"Look at you guys," I hear him guffaw over my shoulder. "Gossiping like old ladies."
Jo throws her fork in his direction, barely missing her target. His left eye and cheek. "Hey, hey, hey," Haymitch bellows now. "Not in front of the children."
"I agree with Haymitch," Delly calls from behind the tree, where she's helping Kendall hang up a pink squirrel ornament.
"Of course you do," Johanna mumbles, loud enough only I can hear, and I have to repress a laugh.
All levity though slips away from my features as I watch Finn hand my child a new ornament. I feel Annie's eyes on me, apprehensive and a little fearful.
The ornament is an angel. It has blonde hair and blue eyes and my sister's exact nose and mouth. She's wearing a skirt and blouse, both pure white, to perfectly match the halo floating above her head. But the skirt is untucked in the back, giving her a duck tail, and it's this fact that registers in my brain. It's this fact that makes me realize that the ornament is Prim, even before I read the name sprawled across the bottom.
Peeta's staring at me now too, but it's my mother that grasps my hand. Our eyes barely meet for a second but we both understand what the other one is thinking.
She should be here. She should be helping decorate the tree. She should be playing with my daughter, who she'd surely love.
But she isn't. Because someone I trusted may or may not have built bombs that killed her. Because a vindictive woman thought that killing her and dozens of other children was the only way to win. Because I was too stupid for too long and didn't see what the real plan was, even as it sat right under my nose.
But she can be here now. If there's anything I learned from Indigo, it's that someone can exist, even in a small part, inside another person. It's that life doesn't have to end at death, as long as someone is around to remember them.
"That's a beautiful ornament, Finn," I say, as evenly and as kindly as I can.
He takes my other hand, his eyes sweet and gentle. "I made it for you. I thought..."
I nod, even though he doesn't finish his sentence. "I know. Thank you."
My mom keeps hold of my palm underneath the table for minutes after everyone else has moved, and even with the issues that still lie between us, I give her fingers a squeeze. Because she's the only one who really understands my grief.
I watch on as the kids decorate the entire tree, top to bottom, with shaped ornaments, ranging from plants to flower to boats to berries to pastries. And a loaf of bread, which Peeta finds particularly funny.
At the end though, all that's left is a large star, clearly meant to sit at the top of the tree. "What is this?" Evie asks Delly, turning it over in her hand.
"That goes on top of the tree," Annie explains, gesturing to the point of the pine near the ceiling.
"How do we get up there?" Rhys asks, stealing the star from his sister, his little eyes confused. "Daddy isn't even that tall."
"Someone's gotta lift us up to the top," Kendall states, munching on something I hope came from her dinner plate and not the floor.
"My daddy can lift me up there!" Indigo suddenly exclaims and reaches her grabby little hands for the star.
Rhys, however, jerks it out of reach automatically. "Why do you get to do it?"
"It's her house," Delly chides her son sternly.
"And she's the youngest, Rhys," Evie says, in a tone that clearly imitates her mother. "Give her the star."
He does so reluctantly and I'm glad that moment passed by quickly, before I had the chance to tell Rhys—as much as I care for him, and I do, deeply—that he better give my kid her star.
I don't even care that this isn't my tradition to start with. My house, my rules. My kid puts the star on the tree, end of story.
"Daddy!" Indigo squeals as Peeta scoops her up in his waiting arms. "Lift me," she commands, holding the large tree-topper with both hands.
Kanon and Haymitch start directing her, as her little eyes can't see to the top, even with Peeta lifting her as high as humanly possible. But when she gets it into place, she grows so excited that her limbs start flailing.
"Look, Daddy! I did that!" She says once he has her on his hip again, pointing to the star she just placed.
"I saw," he enthuses, brushing back the long, dark hair that's almost entirely out of her braid. "You did good!"
And if I thought my heart was melting before, with Finn and Indigo, it explodes when Indigo puts her tiny hands on Peeta's face and turns him towards her. "I love you, Daddy."
His eyes are awed and grateful, as this was all he wanted for years. For years upon years, he remained patient and understanding when I said I wasn't able to give him a child. When I explained all my reasons to why I didn't want a family. He always was respectful of my wishes and of my feelings.
But I saw it in his bright blue eyes, the ones he passed down to our daughter. He wanted a child so badly. He wanted this, this love that Indigo so easily has to offer, that we effortlessly shower her in.
It took me fifteen years to realize that perhaps I wanted it too. Perhaps my fear was overshadowing me from what I truly wanted. Perhaps it was better to have a child and do everything to keep her safe, to fret and worry in addition to love and adore her, rather than to never know that kind of love at all.
"I love you too, Indigo Sky," he murmurs back softly, before she leans in and kisses him.
I feel my mom squeeze my hand again and I know it's not out of sorrow this time, but out of joy. Joy that her child was able to have a family full of so much love. A family so similar to the one she had decades ago.
I squeeze her hand back, feeling horrific now for how angry I was with her for so long. I don't know who I'd be or what I'd do if someone took Peeta or Indigo from me.
"I think Mommy needs to admire the tree," Peeta says, eyeing me conspicuously.
I stand up, looking at the decorations admiringly. Of course, this tree was mainly decorated by young children, so the majority of ornaments gravitate towards the bottom or are clumped into one place, but still, I tell Indigo how pretty it looks and how good of a job she did.
My eye still catches on the Primrose Everdeen angel, hanging right in the center of the tree, and I have to force myself to refrain from tracing the face on it. The details are even more impressive up close and I wonder if Finn has become an artist or if his girlfriend is the talented one.
Just as I'm about to say something, anything really, to take my mind off my deceased sister, a meaty smell fills the air and my stomach lurches without warning.
I propel myself towards the kitchen sink and lose majority of what I just consumed at dinner.
Behind me, I hear a small commotion. Peeta telling Indigo to go to Finn, Delly and Kanon keeping their kids back, Annie and Johanna saying something to Haymitch.
My mom's hand comes in contact with my cheek, feeling my face and pushing the hair that fell from my braid back behind my shoulder. "What happened?"
As I'm about to answer, Peeta comes up to stand on my other side, one hand subtly turning on the water to flush out the sink, while the other rubs my back soothingly.
"I don't know," I croak, as puking always makes my throat raw. "I just smelled something like meat-"
"Told you it was Haymitch's fault," Jo cuts in, clearly speaking to Annie.
"I only asked if this bird was still good," the old, paunchy man defends himself, holding up some game I shot a while back.
"Well, if it makes Katniss throw up just by smelling it, I'd say no," Finn says.
"You don't have a fever," my mother notes, but her eyes are still confused. Though, I will say, not as worried as I thought they might be and for that I'm glad. The last thing I wish to do is ruin everyone's holiday, especially when I've only just started to enjoy this festivity in the last few years.
"I'm fine," I insist, pulling away from both my mother and my husband and wiping my mouth on a cloth quickly. "Seriously, I'm fine."
"Okay, but still sit down," I hear Delly say and I roll my eyes but do so anyways. Because I'm genuinely tired, not because anyone told me to.
"I'm fine, Indigo," I promise when I spot my daughter's scared eyes, still being held in Finn's arms. "I'm just tired."
Peeta follows me to the couch and, even though I wish to refuse out of embarrassment, when he offers me a fizzy water and starts subtly massaging my back, I can't help but lean my head into his chest gratefully.
I still fight the urge to fall asleep right there though. I still conjure up as much willpower as I can to stay alert, to watch Indigo and Kendall play with their stuffed toys, to listen to Finn and Haymitch shoot smart remarks back and forth, to listen to Annie and Jo catch up or my mother and Delly share stories of their vastly different lives.
By the end of the night though, when it's way past all of our bedtimes, as people start to filter out, planning on catching the late night train or taking a shortcut to their houses here in Twelve, my eyelids begin to involuntarily droop.
"You can sleep," Peeta whispers against my forehead. "I'll take care of everything else."
I want to turn down his offer, to say I can help clean up and put Indigo to bed. But when the last of our guests dissipate and Indigo, exhausted herself, climbs into my lap and curls up against me, I lose the battle and doze off right there on the couch.
Hours must pass, because when my eyes crack open again, the flames in the fireplace have been put out, the entire kitchen and living room are clean, and my child is missing.
Of course, those are the first words out of my mouth. "Where's Indigo?"
"I tucked her in. She's in her own bed tonight," Peeta promises, pulling my arm up to wrap around his neck. "I told you I'd take care of everything."
"You didn't have to..." I mumble sleepily as he lifts me up against him.
"Shhh, just go to sleep," he whispers, his lips pressing against my neck then collarbone. "Just rest, Katniss."
When I wake up again, the sun has already risen in the sky. Thankfully though, my child hasn't yet.
Peeta is alert already, propped up on his elbow, when I open my eyes. "Hey," I rasp, my voice not working yet.
"Hey, beautiful," he greets softly and I roll my eyes at the compliment. I do appreciate hearing it though, despite the years we've been together and how some things can lose effect over time. Peeta's little comments and gestures still haven't. They still mean more to me than I'd ever admit.
Now that I'm fully awake, I feel a small bit of embarrassment creeping back in. "Sorry about last night."
His blonde brows twist with confusion. "You mean getting sick? I don't think that's anything for you to be sorry about, Katniss."
"It was just strange," I note, more to myself than to him. "I just smelled the meat Haymitch found and for some reason, my gag reflex couldn't handle it."
The look that crosses his eyes is sly and reserved and I must still be a little foggy from exhaustion, because it's a rare time where I don't understand what he must be thinking.
He changes the subject abruptly anyway. "Did you have a good time yesterday?" He asks kindly.
"Yes," I reply, maybe a little begrudgingly. Considering for years I complained that I hated this newfound holiday, it is both a joy and a joke to Peeta that I look forward to this day now.
"Good," he replies and kisses my forehead, then my mouth warmly. "I like it when my wife is happy."
"Your wife is always happy when she's with you."
He moves back a little to smirk. "Me too."
I can't help teasing him though. "You're always happy when you're with you too?"
"Yes, Katniss, that's exactly what I meant."
I lean up then and kiss him again, this time with more passion. It's a real testament to our marriage that he can still conjure up butterflies in my lower stomach, after almost two decades since we had our first kiss-our first real kiss-in that cave.
"Thank you," I whisper softly as we break apart.
His eyes flicker lightly with confusion. "For what, Sweetheart?"
"For everything. For Indigo and the life we have. For the last eighteen years," I profess, genuinely. Words have always been difficult for me, and they still don't flow at the slightest slip of my tongue, but it's easier now. It's easier with Peeta, just the two of us, and the strong foundation in which our relationship and life is built upon.
Words for him, however, have always come as easy as breathing. "You have made my life so wonderful," he murmurs and tenderly kisses my lips one more time. "Thank you."
Weeks later, the source of my mysterious illness, my nausea and exhaustion, is discovered when we find out I'm pregnant again.
101 notes · View notes
tavern-aa · 3 years
Note
Lmao little silly XD. Idk why I thought it was on my end but anyway. Can I request floof prompt #1 with naruto x male
A/N: Leviathan here!! I will gladly take a fluff prompt from you dear, and yes...I admit I am in fact a little silly. I’m still sorta new to Tumblr so I didn’t know what I was doing but it is all fixed now thanks to our lovely Teddy <3<3<3.
Warnings: cursing, fighting, bullying, tsundere tendencies, post sippuden before the last
Word Count: 2.7k
x Male Reader
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Naruto Uzumaki: Meant To Be
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Fluff Prompt 1: “you know we’re meant to be”
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It was much too early in the morning for Y/N to be up and about. Maybe not for everyone else in this god forsaken village, but for him, the sun wasn’t out yet so he didn’t want to be either. But of course, missions always had to start just before the sun rose, something about being inconspicuous or something like that. It didn’t really make much sense to him, most of the ninja in the village wore such brightly colored clothes, they stood out even if they were trying to be unnoticeable. 
Y/N’s hair swayed around his head as he stood crouched in a tree above the village hidden in the leaves, waiting for his team members to show. He knew from the moment the Hokage gave him the assignment that something was bound to go wrong. He was assigned to work with team Kakashi for a covert mission. He didn’t know why team Kakashi though, they weren’t known for being too covert, or even remotely good at being sneaky like ninja were supposed to be. But, he had to do it so there was no use complaining. 
He knew Kakashi was notorious for never showing up on time so he decided to perch himself on a branch high above the gate out of the village, surveying people as they bustled around. The scene wasn’t necessarily busy at this hour, but there were a few early birds moving to do their business. Y/N puffed out a breath of air as he waited for the team to arrive not noticing the brown haired ninja materializing behind him out of the very tree he crouched on. 
“Are you Y/N?” a gruff voice asked from behind Y/N causing the ninja to jump up, spinning around with a kunai in hand ready to strike. His eyes met the image of a slightly older man with brown hair and weirdly shaped eyes, his leaf village forehead protector extended to guard around his face as well. 
“My apologies, sir. I didn’t sense you coming, you’re Yamato, right?”
“I am, I’m sorry for showing up a little late, I was attempting to get the others out of their homes. Kakashi won’t be joining us for this specific mission, so I guess I’ll be in charge.”
“Of course,” Y/N bowed in respect to his superior. His gaze flitted away from the man’s face though as he rose from the bow, sensing three other presences approaching where the two gathered. 
In seconds there were three ninja below the tree, one in red attire with bubblegum pink hair, another in black and gray attire, and the last...shit. In Y/N’s momentary blunder, he forgot just who comprised team Kakashi. 
Naruto Uzumaki stood alongside his companions grumbling about the others being late or something along those lines. Y/N’s heart pounded in his chest as he stared down at the ninja below, his thoughts racing trying to form an excuse as to why he suddenly had to leave the mission to the other four. 
“We should get going now, Y/N.” Yamato then jumped down from the branch landing beside the younger ninja. Y/N’s teeth gritted in his mouth before he released a breath and jumped down from the tree. Immediately the attention of the others was on him causing him to cringe. 
“As you said, Yamato...We should get going. Remember, this is a covert mission, don’t go running into it all willy nilly, no matter what you may hear,” Y/N grumbled at the three, not once sparing a glance in their direction. Naruto huffed in annoyance at the ninja’s attitude but something was off. He could tell, something about this guy seemed almost...familiar? No, maybe it was just because he had a high and mighty attitude and it reminded him of Sasuke.
Y/N didn’t give the others a chance to respond as he started to walk off towards the gates to the village. Sakura gave Naruto a glance and then a look to Sai who seemed deep in thought before shrugging it off and heading after their teammate. Naruto huffed in annoyance at the retreating male before jogging after Sakura.
~
The mission was only supposed to take at most a week, so tell me why Y/N is sat in front of a camp fire, tending to his wounds while glaring at Naruto. The two were alone as they had been separated from the other three about two days ago due to a screw up on Naruto’s part.
“Would you stop glaring at me like that, I already said I was sorry,” Naruto grumbled, throwing down the stick in his hand.
“I don’t care, this is all your fault, I even said when we started the mission not to go running about all stupid, but oh no! ‘I’m the great Naruto Uzumaki, savior of the entire world, I can do what I want!’ And now look where we are, stuck in the middle of the forest, we don’t know where we are, and it’s because you couldn’t keep your big mouth shut!” Y/N’s breathing had picked up in his rant due to his anger which caused Naruto’s frustrated look to soften into one of concern.
“Look, I’m sorry, but you need to calm down, you’re injured and getting riled up isn’t going to help much,” Naruto spoke, rising from his spot and crossing to where the other shinobi sat. Cautiously, the blonde crouched in front of the seething male and took the cloth he was using to treat his wounds, rinsing it in water and gently applying pressure to one of the large cuts on Y/N’s abdomen.
“I wouldn’t be injured if it wasn’t for you.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“Hmph,” Y/N looked away from the other ninja, though his heart was hammering in his chest due to their proximity, he kept his angry persona up not wanting to give in to the pure bliss of being this close to Naruto. 
“I don’t really get something though, you’ve been extremely hostile this entire time and I don’t even know you. You’ve been against me even since before the mission started. Did I do something to you?” Naruto questioned, glancing up at Y/N, the glow of the fire dancing across his face causing Y/N’s heart to swell. 
“I-no, I just...I just don’t like you! I don’t have to tell you anything!”
After saying that, Y/N rose from his seated position hurriedly startling Naruto into falling backwards. Y/N towered over him, staring down at the blonde before spinning around and retreating into the trees to rest. 
Naruto let out a sigh, confused and somewhat frustrated at his team mates attitude. What had he done to deserve this treatment, he was sure he hadn’t done anything to the shinobi, so why was he treating him this way. Has he met Y/N before? Wait...
Naruto’s eye’s widened in disbelief, his head snapping in the direction that Y/N had gone.
“It can’t be...”
“I don’t get this...can you help me?”
A younger Y/N looked up at a blonde boy around his age as everyone in the class bustled around to sit with their friends for lunch.
“What don’t you get, Naruto-kun?” Y/N questioned, holding his hand out for the paper and pencil the blonde held in his hands. Naruto grinned, handing the paper to the other.
“This problem is really confusing and I don’t really get how Iruka-sensei explained it.” Naruto stared at the other boy in awe as he started to explain the problem in much simpler terms that their teacher had, “woah! That’s a lot easier than I thought! Thank you, Y/N!”
Y/N smiled softly to the blonde, “you’re welcome, Naruto-kun...do you wanna eat with me?”
Naruto’s already large grin spread wider across his face as he nodded enthusiastically.
“I’ll be right back, let me grab my lunch!”
Y/N watched as the boy ran across the classroom not once letting his eyes wander from the form of the boy he had been crushing on since their first year in the academy. Much like Hinata, he was too shy to approach him himself, but he was so happy that he came to him for help.
As Naruto approached him once more, one of the other students in the class tripped the blonde causing him to drop the contents of his lunch on the floor of the classroom. Naruto stared in shock at his food before looking up at the bully, ready to start a fight before Y/N cut in.
“Please don’t fight Naruto-kun, it’ll only make things worse, come with me and we can share mine. As for you guys,” Y/N’s face grew dark as he turned to the group of students who caused the incident, “I hope you guys enjoy your lunch on the floor, it’s yours now. You better eat it.”
The boys shivered in fear of the other boy, glancing down at the food on the ground before looking back up at him.
“Did I stutter? Eat your food.” Immediately the boy’s were on their knees, scooping up the food that Naruto had dropped. 
Naruto watched in awe of the other boy, usually he was so soft spoken. He never would have expected this, especially to defend him. 
A month later, Naruto sat in class waiting for Y/N to arrive, but he never did. Iruka entered the class, his gaze falling on Naruto with one of pity. 
“Excuse me everyone, I want to announce that Y/N will no longer be taking classes with the rest of you, he has been promoted and will now be training alongside the Anbu Black Ops special group,” Iruka announced. Naruto felt his heart drop into his stomach. His only friend, gone. 
Later that day, Naruto spotted Y/N’s mop of hair walking down the street and quickly ran up to him, grabbing his arm.
“Huh?” was Y/N’s quite articulate response to the action. “Oh, hey Naruto-kun!”
A grin had settled on the shorter boys face as he looked back at the blonde.
“Why didn’t you tell me? We’re friends right? So, why didn’t you tell me you were leaving school?” Naruto interrogated. Y/N’s smile dropped and instead was replaced with a frown.
“I wanted to...I’m sorry, Naruto-kun. I just didn’t want to upset you,” Y/N said, awkwardly rubbing his arm as he fully turned to face the blonde, “But we can still hang out after school, right?”
“No! I don’t want to hang out with you anymore! You didn’t tell me you were leaving so how do I know you won’t just leave again, I’d rather be alone than be with a liar!”
Y/N flinched away from Naruto’s words, his heart clenching in his chest, “But, you said-”
“I don’t care what I said! You’re leaving me just like everyone else, so I don’t wanna hear it! You’re a jerk!” was the last thing the blonde said before storming away from where Y/N stood. The shinobi felt tears start to pool in his eyes as the blonde walked away.
“You’re the jerk Naruto,” he whimpered before quickly making his way back to his home.
Naruto’s memories flooded back to him like a tsunami. He knew he was being childish back then but what did you expect, he was a child and he was hurt. That’s still no excuse though, he didn’t want to mess up the chance he had been given, or at least mess it up any further than he already had.
“Y/N!” he called into the trees, not expecting a response but wishing deep down that the other would. After a few seconds of silence, Naruto sighed and pushed himself up onto his feet, “Fine, I’ll just go look for him then.”
Naruto entered the expanse of trees beyond their little camp before he heard the sounds of battle emerge from the distance. 
“Shit! Y/N!” 
He quickly took off towards the sounds that echoed through the trees before he approached a clearing where he saw the other male fighting three larger men clad in dark black attire. He burst into action, summing two clones and creating his rasengan in his hand and jumped at two of the attackers sending them flying across the field. 
“Y/N! Are you okay?” He called, watching Y/N dodge an attack from the last enemy.
“What does it look like idiot?” The other called back slashing his kunai at the large ninja. 
“Would you like some help?”
“Preferably!”
Naruto smirked slightly as he ran up to help Y/N take on the rouge ninja making it ten times easier for the two of them to take him down.
“You know Y/N, I realized something while you were gone...I’m sorry.”
“You already apologized, it doesn’t even matter anymore.”
“No, no, not for that though I am sorry for that too I guess. Anyways, I’m sorry for being a jerk...when we were younger.”
Y/N tensed up where he stood, turning his head to face the blonde.
“What are you talking about?” He asked cautiously, his eyes scanning Naruto’s face in an anxious attempt to read the boys intentions.
“I was upset and I took it out on you, it really wasn’t even you’re fault, you were just really smart and really skilled. I should have been happy for you, instead I was being selfish and blamed you for something that wasn’t even you’re intention.”
“Naruto stop talking-”
“You were my only friend back then and I ruined our friendship by being childish and selfish and I’m sorry. I was and am an idiot...could you ever forgive me?”
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat in his chest and he saw the sincerity in the blonde’s eyes.
“I-I...”
“I think I get somethings now that I didn’t get back then either...there were a lot of emotions I was feeling then and I guess I felt betrayed? I don’t know, but there was always something that I felt for you that confused me. But fate has brought us back together, Y/N. I’m ready to accept my fault, and I hope you can forgive me for being stupid.”
“Naruto...you idiot.” Y/N felt a singular tear escape his eye as he stared at the other male, his hand quickly wiping it away, “of course I forgive you.”
Naruto grinned, approaching the male and carefully pulling him into a hug, trying to be mindful of the old and newly sustained injuries on the boy’s body. Y/N tensed slightly at the contact before fully relaxing into the taller boy’s embrace.
“I think I understand my feelings a lot better now, Y/N...” Naruto muttered into the shorter boy’s ear sending a shiver down Y/N’s spine.
“O-oh? And what’s that?”
Naruto pulled back though he did not break the embrace.
“Well...I’m sure you know this too...you know we’re meant to be,” he whispered softly, leaning forward to hover his lips over the others.
Y/N was shocked to say the least, his chest felt like it would explode, his face was hotter than hades, and his body felt like it was going to melt into the ground.
“Naruto...”He breathed, his breath brushing across Naruto’s lips. Both boys stood still for seconds deciding whether or not this was something that they both wanted and if this was something they were ready to commit to.
A groan from the ground startled the two out of each other’s embrace as they realized where in fact they were. Y/N’s face flushed an even deeper red if that was even possible as he moved into action, tying the three rouge ninja to a near by tree.
“We...we should get back to camp and try and find the others in the morning,” he suggested, turning his head away from Naruto’s burning gaze.
“Hm, we could do that...or,” Naruto stopped in the middle of his sentence, once again pulling the shorter boy into his arms, “we could continue what we were about to do before, hm?”
Y/N swallowed thickly before nodding his head slowly in agreement, “That would be nice,” he squeaked out, his voice having raised a couple of octaves. Naruto’s chuckle sent vibrations through both boy’s chests before their lips finally locked in a sweet and soft kiss that told the other exactly how they felt. 
They stayed like that for a few seconds before a man cleared his throat. Once again the two were interrupted from their loving moment as they jumped apart.
“Well...it seems we found you two,” Yamato stated, chuckling at the disheveled state of the two boys, “glad you seem to be getting along better now.”
“Yeah...” Y/N muttered, hiding his face in his hands, “I’m gonna head back to the camp.”
Naruto grinned at the embarrassed boy’s retreating form before looking over at Yamato, giving a big thumbs up.
“Believe it!”
-
-
-
A/N: wow, I hate it. I’m sorry it sucks I’m so tired I pulled three all nighters this week and I just, ugh, I really hope you like it I did actually try hard for this one even though i was sleep deprived. 
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Your response was so right and I really liked the posts you linked as well!
And like, idk but I feel like people saying “oh this book is ableist” is a very blanket statement while ignoring that most people didn’t know the r word was a slur in like 2015 which is around when the books came out. Like this wasn’t common knowledge to people, and it still isn’t common knowledge to a lot of people! It’s fine to warn people before reading like, “hey this book has ableist language by the way so watch out for that” but that doesn’t mean Nora is ableist.
Also like as a woc, i have my own issues with people thinking the books are racist. I think Nicky could’ve definitely been handled better, but idk my thoughts about Nicky are more like “look how much he gave up for his cousins and how much he cared about them” instead of specifically the bad stuff he does. Like they’re all traumatized, I don’t expect them to be perfect or not say bad things. As for making all the villains asian, I feel like people just forget,,,,about Nathan? And Lola? And literally everyone in the scene where Neil gets kidnapped? And Drake? Like with all of the shitty people in aftg, I don’t even consider the yakuza the bad guys, only Riko and Tetsuji. My friend described it as Nora just having like “white blindness” and not realizing how stuff she writes can come across rather than intentionally being harmful, which makes a big difference to me.
I also hate the take that it’s like aphobic, considering Nora is aro ace and that there are people who don’t know what asexual or aromantic means. While it’s not great for Nicky to constantly push Neil for his sexuality, I also don’t blame him for not knowing that Neil is demisexual, especially considering that Neil didn’t know himself! And especially because there’s still so much ace discourse on tumblr! Like people still don’t know stuff about asexuality and aromanticism, so why do you expect her to write characters who are experts in it?
I think people forget that writing about problematic characters doesn’t make the author problematic. Also I agree that I don’t think aftg is even written that badly, but I also base books on how they make me feel, and I’ve been into aftg for 2 years (which is relatively long for me to be into something).
Sorry I rambled a lot but I just don’t like all the aftg hate, nor do I get repeating the criticism for it if people already know.
You bring up some very good points and It makes me want to go on another rant. And don't worry, I loved hearing your thoughts.
So the same warning here. Some discussions of racism, ableism and aphobia below the cut.
In general, I think accusing complete strangers of being x-phobic is a worse thing to do than defending them. Innocent until proven wrong, you know. I don't think there's enough proof of Nora being ableist in the books, and saying that she is can be very harmful. Here's a great post about aftg and ableism, and I'm glad you liked the previous ones :D
The yakuza wasn't even the main villain there. Considering it's well, the mafia, it didn't have that negative role. Ichirou wasn't portrayed as vicious and cruel, Nathan was. Ichirou didn't turn the nest into hell, Riko and Tetsuji did.
Riko was a complex character who had his motives and his race didn't have to do anything with his actions. If Nora wrote that Riko tortured people because he was Asian (? How??, but still), that would be racist.
This may be a controversial opinion, but I really don't like when people act like minorities can't be bad people. Isn't basing expectations of them on their race... racist?
Imagine saying Nathan being the villain of the story was anti-red haired people (let's pretend he's ginger, because there are people who actually hate them, for some reason. And I'm not comparing race to hair color, it's just the same logic). Wouldn't that be ridiculous? Especially because Neil, a flawed chatacter who's also one of the "good guys" has red hair too.
As a white person, I know I don't understand racism as well as poc, so correct me if I'm being wrong. I know that good representation is very important. But is having both white and poc characters being morally gray and deeply flawed that racist?
I really like the term "white blindness". Sometimes people come across as racist by accident or not thinking things through properly and it's so nice of you and your friend to acknowledge this.
(Like now I think I'm somehow being racist but I really am not. I don't know if what I said conveyed my opinion well, but please don't hesitate to send me another ask if you think I'm being one.)
I think aphobia is very compicated in the books. Of course Nicky saying life can't be good without a significant other and that he would give Neil a little "push" was clearly aphobic. Because Neil had said that he didn't swing before that and Nicky didn't believe him.
But considering how little known demisexuality was in the 00's, was Matt assuming Neil was gay after he found out about him and Andrew aphobic too? I think if Neil had explained that he was only attracted to Andrew, not men in general, Matt would have believed him.
Of course, in the end it doean't matter in this discussion because writing about it doesn't make Nora aphobic. It's purely realistic, both the people being assholes and just ignorant of it.
I've heard people say both, that they loved how trauma was handled in the books and that they hated it. It's clear that the books aren't for everyone. It usually leaves the reader either completely in love with it or filled with hate. Love and hate are both very strong emotions and people "criticizing" it isn't new either. I just hope it doesn't get to the point where aftg is just known as this horrible book and people don't even bother with reading it before judging it and writing hateful posts.
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obsidianfr3sk · 3 years
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five valentine’s day that went wrong and one that (almost) didn’t
@queercreators event 02: romance — [ five valentine’s day that went wrong and one the (almost) didn’t ]      [ “Five Things” Fic ] “
dedicated to my dear Reneweys [ @nodrianbcyes @honey-hippie-harper​ @healing-winston-pratt @alecjamesartino @bluenoctuary-art @everyone-has-a-nightmare ] ♡
Summary: They always managed to ruin their Valentine's Days one way or another, but it didn't matter. Because there was no way they could ruin what the two of them had.Boy, he would like to see someone try.
AO3
Well, hello there!!! It’s been a while since the last time I posted something x’d I know I always say the same thing but it’s true skjdfhkjdfs I started this fic during the first week of febreary when I had this shot of adrenaline and started to do a lot of creative stuff, and originally I wanted to post this during Valentine’s Day, but... the shot of adrenaline passed x’d and let me to deal with this alone.
As you can see for the description, this a “Five Thing” fic. At first I wanted to post each chapter seperately, but idk, it seem a little bit... weird x’d so, here in Tumblr, the six chapters are all in one post. If you don’t like the format, but want to read the fic, you can find it on AO3! Don’t forget to leave kudos and a comment if you liked it:’)
Now... I’m not used to write happy sttuf in general x’d AND I’M LESS USED TO WRITE HAPPY STUFF ABOUT HUGH AND SIMON BECAUSE SKJDFHKJDSF the angst, dudes:))) but I think I did. Like... I actually wrote a fluffy fic:’) I’m so proud of myself dkjfhkfdshjk
Tag list: @the-lady-with-the-pen @chiyuki-hiro @all-weather-is-bad @styeenza
First try
Year 2
It was the second Valentine's Day after the beginning of the Age of Anarchy, and the capacity that the human being had to adapt themselves to the most terrible of conditions never ceased to amaze him. The economy had collapsed, the government had fallen, his school was practically one of the last ones still in open, and there was a “fucking junkie” ruling the city...
But the world celebrated Valentine's Day anyway.
Or at least in his class did.
The teacher had brought a bunch of cardboard boxes, that looked like she had fought with some tramps to get them (which she probably did, they were too many boxes for one person to generate) (unless she was a crazy person who collected boxes). She gave one to each one of her students, took out the last bottles of paint, pieces of colored cardboard, and rusty scissors, and then told them that today they were going to learn how to make a mailbox.
At first, Hugh had no idea what turning a box into a mailbox had to do with the curriculum the school was supposed to follow. It's not like people sent a lot of letters anyway. But when the girls got excited, he remembered that February 14 was something like an important date. And then, he remembered an activity that they did during his first year, when everyone decorated a box for their classmates to put letters and sweets in it.
First year… And now he was in his third year.
Time flies by.
After telling them which parts to cut into (Hugh had to share his scissors with other three classmates because there weren't enough for everyone), she invited them to pick the decorations they wanted to put on their mailboxes. The girls pounced on the pink, red, and even white paint, while most of the boys laughed, saying it was a stupid activity and they didn't want to do it. Hugh felt the urge to agree, but he didn't
He had already tried to make them like him. It hadn't worked for him.
So he grabbed a bottle of navy blue paint, some cartoon bear stickers, some notebook paper, and a bitten pencil. That would be enough to make his mailbox and his cards.
After a while, he started to have a good time. Crafts had never been his strong suit, but he was proud of how it ended up looking. One couldn’t tell his mailbox used to be a cereal box because the paint he used was so dark, that it only needed two coats of it and it dried much faster than Abernathy’s, who had practically finished the pink paint trying to hide the face of that missing child in the milk carton box the teacher gave to her. Hugh realized that she was holding her tears back, and as the good classmate that he was, he told her not to worry, that the missing child could be decoration if she painted him a mustache or something, and it would look very funny. Abernathy, far from finding it funny, acted super offended, assuring she had never met a child as rude and insensitive as Hugh Everhart, and she ran out of the classroom, hiding her face in her hands and screaming like a baby.
Unfortunately, the rest of his class agreed with her, and when it came time to deliver the cards, Hugh did not receive a single one. Although he doubted it had anything to do with that missing boy thing.
They wouldn't have given him anything anyway.
He wasn't sure if they knew he was a prodigy. Maybe they had noticed that it wasn't normal that Hugh had practically broken a chair in two when he placed his backpack on it to get something out, or that he had left the PE teacher unconscious when he accidentally threw a ball at his face while they were playing soccer. The teachers, if they noticed, didn't say anything. After all, that school was supposed to be only for normal kids.
Not prodigies. 
But children could be very insightful. Most likely, they did notice and therefore did not want to be associate with him.
Or maybe— 
Maybe they just didn't want to hang out with Hugh, because of… that.
Because he was Hugh.
He decided to wait for everyone else to leave before starting to cry (or before breaking another chair, whichever came first). Or at least that was what he was about to do when he heard that someone had come up with the same idea as him and started crying first. 
Simon Westwood had never been too talkative. Even before his older sister and mother died, he liked to sit at the last table, not speaking to anyone, and some older kids were constantly picking on him, without any teacher trying to do anything to stop them.
Not that Hugh was paying much attention to him or something.
The teacher practically ran to see what was going on with Simon Westwood, asking him what happened and why hadn’t he finished decorating his mailbox. Simon Westwood tried to explain it to her, but he was mumbling his words so neither the teacher nor Hugh could understand what he was saying. 
Hugh didn’t get mad with him though. His mom had died. His sister died too, a couple of weeks later. He wouldn’t be in the mood for doing cheesy crafts if the same had happened to him. But the teacher wasn’t as benevolent as him, and started to say things like she was trying really hard to bring joy to her students, and that she was sure that if he tried a little bit harder, he would be able to enjoy Valentine’s Day, like the rest of them. 
“Let’s see what nice things your classmates have said about you,” she exclaimed. But that only made Simon Westwood start crying again.
No one had given him a card. 
Like… no one.
And Hugh was listening to all of this conversation, just sitting there, trying to stay as stiff as he could so they wouldn’t notice he was there (as if he weren’t literally right in front of them). Seeing Simon cried like that made him think that maybe he was just acting though when the other kids laugh at him because of his looks, his ratty old clothes (older and rattier than theirs), or just—
His mind exploded. 
He suddenly understood why the other kids didn't like Simon Westwood. It was before he was him.
Just like how they didn’t like Hugh Everhart because he was Hugh Everhart. 
When the teacher went out of the classroom with Simon, saying something about calling his dad (although he knew they wouldn’t be able to do that, since no one had a functioning phone those days), he took one of the cards he did for his classmates, cards that he never gave to them, and put one inside Simon Westwood’s mailbox/cereal box. He had left his backpack and his things there. When he came back to take them home, he would see the card too.
A voice in his head told him to get out of there before he came back, but another one told him to stay. Maybe Simon Westwood and he could be friends. Maybe he would understand what it felt like to be hated just for the way you were born. Maybe he was a prodigy too. 
Or maybe he wasn’t.
He couldn’t take that chance. 
So Hugh went home, but promised Simon Westwood (and himself) he would keep an eye on him. 
After all, friends were there to have each other’s back. 
Because they were friends, even if Simon didn't know it yet.
Second try
Year 9
They were friends. 
He had never seen Hugh before meeting him on that alley where Simon got his powers. Like— he had seen him because he was in the same class as him, but he hadn't really seen him. During his childhood years, Simon was more focused on other things. Like being a little depressed and anxious ball with skinny legs and skinny arms, for example.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t depressed or anxious now. Nor it was he had gotten super muscular all of the sudden, like Hugh (he had always been bigger than the other kids, but he practically turned twelve and already looked like a teenager, except for the voice and the face). 
But at that moment, he wasn’t depressed or anxious. He felt weirdly at peace. 
He and Hugh were walking down the street, thinking about which store were they going to rob that day to get dinner for them and their families, when Simon noticed a couple holding hands in front of an abandoned café. She had dark hair and he had blue eyes, which looked at his girlfriend as if she was the Virgin Mary or something. Then, she kissed him and gave him a small blue flower and a heart-shaped card. The guy looked so moved by the gesture that he kissed her on the lips again, with so much more passion than before. 
Simon looked away before they realized he was looking at them, not only because he didn’t want to come off as creepy, but also because he knew how awkward he would feel if they started to make out or something. 
“Love is in the air,” Hugh sang.
Simon chuckled. “You noticed them too?”
“I noticed them when she gave him the flower,” he told him. “I had never seen a girl giving flowers to a guy before.”
“Times have changed, I guess. That’s why they don’t feel uncomfortable giving such public displays of affection. Kids in our day weren’t like that.”
“I know, right?” said Hugh continuing with the joke. “They are so perverted. There are children present, for God’s sake.”
Simon chuckled again and Hugh stopped to tie his shoe. While he was there, Simon noticed he was throwing glances at them. 
“You know, giving them the death stare isn’t gonna prevent them from being in love,” Simon told him.
“I can try,” Hugh joked. Then, he shook his head. “It’s not that. I just—”
He waited for him a couple of seconds before asking, “Just what?”
He finally answered, “Someday we’ll have something like that.”
Simon frowned. “Huh?”
“You know,” Hugh mumbled. “We’ll have girlfriends and— and all of that.”
“Oh!” Simon exclaimed. “Yeah, someday, yeah.”
But before Simon could keep talking about it (or just develop some opinion on the topic) Hugh shrugged and urged him to keep walking. “I guess. I didn’t even remember today was Valentine’s Day though. They were my reminder—” he turned around and waved at them “—Thank you, exhibitionists, you reminded me what day is it!”
Now, Hugh probably didn’t mean for them to hear him say that. Simon knew him well enough to know Hugh thought he wasn’t being loud, but the thing was… Hugh was always loud. He could be “whispering” and the whole neighborhood would hear him ask Simon if he knew how bars with strippers worked because he did know, and wanted to brag about it. Then, Simon would feel embarrassed, because, in fact, he didn’t know how bars with strippers work.
Simon immediately turned around and realized the girl was looking at them with an expression he couldn’t read. He turned invisible and pushed Hugh inside of an alley, hoping those trashcans hid them well enough in case the guy turned out to be a freaking animal and wanted to kick their flat asses for calling them exhibitionists. 
Simon felt the anxiety kicking in, when Hugh started laughing so loud, that said anxiety turn into the need of punching him really hard on the arm.
So he did it. Multiple times.
“Dude, dude, shut the fuck up, dude,” Simon said keeping his voice low (because he could keep his voice down, unlike others), “that guy’s gonna kick our asses, for real. Dudeeee—”
But his voice kinda cracked when he said that “Dudeee—” and that made Hugh laugh even more, so Simon kept punching him, using a vocabulary that would make the most dangerous of gangster blush. And he probably would have kept hitting him, if the anxiety of being discovered hadn't been overshadowed by how weird it made him feel to see his best friend laugh.
When Hugh laughed, his cheeks would turn red and his eyes would water. They could be in the most embarrassing situation ever, one where no one was laughing, and if he found it funny, he was going to do it, because he wasn't going to be able to help it. And it wasn't like Simon would stop him, either. Not at all. He liked it when he laughed. 
Even though he ended up making him laugh too. Like at that moment.
Most of the garbage ended up in the drains, the sidewalk, or anywhere else except where it belonged, the trash can. Generally, Hugh always refused when someone hinted at sitting on the floor, precisely for that reason. However, on that occasion, the two were sitting in that stinking alley, throwing pebbles at each other, playing with some bottle caps they found on the ground, and arguing about who would win a bare-handed fight, Wonder Man or Phantom Feline.
They decided it was time to go home when a cat-sized rat appeared out of nowhere, and the two of them came out screaming like idiots, even faster than they would have run if that guy with the girlfriend would have chased them. They ran until they reached Simon's house, all sweaty and tired, their hands on their bent knees and breathing heavily.
Then Hugh laughed again. And his cheeks were flushed again, and his eyes were watery again, and he made Simon laugh again until Mr. Westwood came home from work and told him to go inside, that it was too late to be outside.
Once he was locked in his room, with his younger sister playing in the living room and his father in the kitchen, the image of that guy kissing his girlfriend did not make him feel anything. So, he tried to imagine kissing a lot of girls that he considered a thousand times more attractive, but just when it seemed that the idea was beginning to be something desirable, Hugh came back, with his laugh, his screams, and his eyes, like one of those freaking trains that he dreamed of having the opportunity to stop one day and that never missed a single chance to tell Simon all about it. 
The truth was that Simon did believe that Hugh might be able to stop a train with his bare hands, but he doubted he would be able to stop the train of thought that Simon hopped on whenever he thought of him. And he was so ashamed to know that not even the strongest prodigy on the planet was capable of doing that, that he decided to take those memories from the collar of the old blue hoodie that each one of them wore and bury them alive in the backyard of his memory.
Forever and ever.
Thrid try
Year 12
Two months ago, after their first date, Simon told Hugh he would never plan another important date, forever and ever. But now, Simon had let him plan their first Valentine's Day together without putting any objections, proving that he trusted him. And he was happy for him; Simon had always had problems when it came to trusting other people. It was nice to see the other grow to become a better person. 
And it was even nicer when you were no longer only friends, but a couple. 
So yeah, he wanted to make Valentine's Day special. It was kind of a big deal. 
Georgia and Tamaya brainstormed with him places he could take Simon to. They all agreed that it had to be a place safe enough and that it wouldn't put them in a situation where they had to reveal their powers, and by consequence, their secret identities. But then, everything started going downhill, especially because Georgia had some very odd ideas (like something about flowers, a choreographed dance, and poetry) and Tamaya was as romantic as a rock (“Just don't end up nearly killing yourself in front of him, that should be enough.”)
It was February 13th, and Hugh was on his cot, a bit angry at Georgia and Tamaya, not only because they couldn't help him on such an important mission as they promised, but also because they blamed him for their failure, telling him that he "had no imagination" and that he "thought with his dick", just because he thought all their ideas were horrible. 
Maybe he should have phrased that better... 
Simon and Evander slept on the bunk bed Simon used to share with his younger sister. Simon was taking a shower, so he was all alone with Evander and Kasumi, who sometimes went there to visit her best friend, even if Tamaya told her not to do it because it smelled horrible in there and she would bring the odor to the girl’s bedroom (Hugh thought the room didn't smell bad at all, and if it did, it was because Evander acted like he was living in the street yesterday and had no sense of personal hygiene). But Kasumi didn’t seem to mind, and she spent most of her afternoons cuddling with Evander on the top bunk, while she read an old book and Evander read one of Simon’s comics (because Hugh would join the Anarchists before letting Evander touch his comics).
They started whispering at each other about who knows what, and even though he kind of wanted to know what they were talking about, he was just too tired, so he decided to put a pillow on his face and try to fall asleep. But then, he heard, quite clearly, that they said his name. 
And he couldn’t let slip that. 
He pulled the pillow off his face, and said, “What are you saying about me?”
They both peered over the edge of the bunk. “We were talking about how you're not good at romance,” Evander replied.
The audacity of that b— boy.
“You are eleven years old," he told him. “What are you going to know about romance?”
“No more than you,” Kasumi acknowledged, very solemnly.
Hugh made his “See?” face and he looked away.
Then, Evander asked, “Why don’t you take him to Cosmopolis Park?”
Oh, stars. He couldn’t be serious.
Cosmopolis Park.
A freaking theme park. 
Evander was eleven, all right. His idea of a date was probably something out of a princess movie he and Kasumi watched from time to time (sometimes Tamaya joined them too and she always acted like she was just watching it to make fun of it, even though everyone in the house knew she had a weird soft spot for cheesy princess movies). But Hugh was technically an adult now. He should know better, and knowing better was not taking your boyfriend to a theme park for Valentine’s Day. That wasn’t very romantic.
“What a stupid idea.”
Kasumi got red all of the sudden. For the look at Evander’s face, Hugh knew he had fucked up even before she said, “It was my idea…”
“Oh— no, Zoomie, I… what I meant was that—”
“Don’t fix it, bro,” Evander interrupted him. “You’re gonna make me want to punch you more.”
He wasn’t afraid of Evander punching him because he couldn’t compare a kid’s strength to his, but he obeyed him and mumbled a small, “Sorry.”
The “sorry” was for Kasumi though, not for Evander. If Kasumi hadn’t been there, he probably would have told Evander something like “Oh, yeah? You’re gonna punch me, little punk? Come on, punch me, don’t be a pussy” (and then Georgia would have stormed into the room, telling him not to use the word “pussy”, and they would have pointed at each other saying “He started it!”)
After giving him a goodnight kiss, Kasumi got off Evander’s bed, with the book under her arm. Before leaving the room, she knelt beside Hugh to kiss him goodnight, as to show his comment didn’t cause her to feel any kind of resentment towards him.
Because of course it didn’t. Kasumi was like that.
“I was just saying— Valentine’s Day is also a day to be with friends,” she whispered. “And you and Simon are not only boyfriends but also... you know, friends. I bet that wherever you take him, it'd be magical for both of you. Because you find magic in each other's company, even before you knew you were in love. So... why not?”
She turned off the lights on her way out.
He never thought Kasumi’s tendency to romanticize everything was odd or weird. It was something that he expected from a teenage girl, especially one who has such a vivid imagination. But he also never expected that imagination would help him in some way. And he never expected for her to say the exact words he wanted to hear, even before he knew he wanted to hear them.
She was so wise.
Cosmopolis Park didn’t sound like a bad idea anymore when Simon entered just after Kasumi, wearing his pajamas, and asked him with a teasing voice, “So… where are you gonna take me tomorrow?”
Hugh didn’t know if Evander was already asleep, so he just smiled at him and told him it was a surprise. Simon rolled his eyes and gave him a soft kiss on the nose before getting into his own bed. 
It was his way of telling him he trusted him. And relationships were supposed to be built upon trust. He didn't need anyone to tell him that.
As far as he knew, Simon hadn't been to Cosmopolis Park in years, probably before the Age of Anarchy began. It was no secret that the park was currently full of gangs and drug addicts but it was still a relatively peaceful place. At least peaceful enough that the park was full of families, groups of friends, and tons of couples.
Although there weren’t any couples...
Well, there weren’t any couples like them.
He wondered if Simon noticed that small detail too, but when he turned to ask him that, he knew it would be better if he just kept his comments to himself. Because he wasn't an expert reading other people's emotions, but Simon...
Simon looked so happy at the moment.
The two walked side by side, their shoulders brushing against each other's, but their hands tucked deep into their pockets. Hugh was trying to keep his eyes fixed forward to avoid bumping into anyone, but the small chuckles Simon let out every time he saw something that surprised him, made said task impossible. Suddenly, he no longer wanted to avoid the embarrassment that would cause him to bother someone by bumping into them; he wanted to look at him.
He wanted to look at him trying to hide his laughter by covering his mouth with his hand, as if he wanted to suppress some kind of dark feeling, without realizing that his joy was so full of light that it was practically impossible. He wanted to continue to see how his dark eyes, with very long lashes and deep bags under the eyes, perfectly captured the lights of the Ferris wheel and the food trucks. He wanted to see the tiny smile he had the entire time they were at the park because even if Simon didn't smile like that very often, when he did, Hugh felt as if he was witnessing the most wonderful of miracles.
Hugh took his hands out of his pocket, and when he turned his attention back to Simon, he was looking at him too. They stopped in their tracks, not caring that people passed around them, sometimes unintentionally pushing them a bit or stepping on their shoelaces. 
Hugh took a step forward and Simon did too. 
Then Simon pulled a hand out of his grey jacket's pocket, making him wonder if he was dreaming or if it was really going to happen.
Hugh held his breath and felt the blood rush to his face, along with the overwhelming feeling that everyone around him was staring at them, with the newly acquired gift of recognizing those two faces that always hid behind pair of colorful masks and now were gazing at each other with true devotion. He desperately wanted to know what was going through their heads, he wanted to know if they still considered them worthy of their admiration and respect, and he wanted to know if he had been right when he assured Simon that, someday, the two of them would hold each other in public without thinking it twice.
But then, just as Simon's fingers brushed his cheek, his attention was completely diverted to someone behind Hugh.
“Are you talking to me?” he asked awkwardly.
Hugh turned to see who his boyfriend was talking to. He was a slightly older man, juggling three balls and standing on the table of his own stand. He was smiling at Simon and he had a mustache that quite frankly made him look like a ridiculous comic villain.
“Yes, you!” and he threw a ball at Simon.
Simon covered his face with his hands, but Hugh caught the ball before it hit him.
Who did this guys think he was?
The guy, far from mocking Simon's reaction, seemed intrigued. “Do you want to win a prize, big guy?” he asked Hugh.
Hugh was ready to say no to him in the kindest way he could, when the guy pulled out a laundry basket, like the one Georgia put on his head every Sunday, saying "Laundry time!" in a voice so high that made birds explode. 
“You just have to throw that ball you have in your hand—” he raised the basket “—here. And you can win a prize.”
He finally gave him a chance to reply. “No, thank you, we’re fine.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets again and told Simon to keep going. But the guy did not give up.
“I see,” he crooned from afar. “Your dad didn't play ball with you and that's why you don't think you're capable of throwing it correctly. It’s fine.”
Simon put his hand to his mouth as if thinking "Oh, stars, he did not."
And Hugh looked at him as if thinking "Oh, but he did."
If that guy knew who he was talking to, he would probably think it twice before making comments to strangers mocking their lack of a father figure.
So he turned abruptly and threw the ball into the basket.
If Hugh had been a little calmer, he probably would have been able to remember that, before leaving the house, Tamaya had told him that theme parks were full of games that had the sole purpose of scamming people and that one of them was that game in particular. The balls bounced so much that even if they made contact with the bottom of the basket they would jump back to whoever threw it, making them technically lose.
He would also have listened to himself, to Hugh, who told him that it would be best to turn around and get on with their lives, and not to Captain Chromium, who was determined to win that freaking game because he won every single game the world put in his way. 
After three balls, the guy turned to Simon, extended his hand at him, and told him, “It's fifteen dollars.”
That was enough to make him lose his mind. Hugh told him that it was not worth arguing with him, but Captain Chromium did not tolerate that people tried to take advantage of him, and he spent about ten minutes screaming with the mustachioed man, until Simon panicked (or lost his mind), grabbed one of the balls and threw it right in the man’s eye.
Then, he did take Hugh by the hand.
But just to be sure they both got out of there before someone tried to stop them.
They ended the evening at a hamburger stand several blocks away from Cosmopolis Park (because obviously, they weren't going to stay there after the show they had put on). They did not have enough money to buy two sodas, but they bought a strawberry juice carton to share and sat on the sidewalk to eat their hamburgers of doubtful provenance, ranting against the man, against the park, and, especially, against those damn balls.
“I can't believe there are people like him breathing the same oxygen I breathe,” Simon commented, before taking a bite out of his burger ravenously. “He had no right to make that joke.”
But Hugh was so distracted by how attractive Simon looked when he bit his hamburger like that all he could say was:
“If my dad knew I couldn't win that stupid game, he would abandon me again.”
Simon frowned a little bit, repeating the sentence in his head until he finally understood the joke, and laughed so hard he began to choke with his food. Hugh started to panic and told Simon he would give him five back blows like he read he should do when someone started to choke. That was enough for Simon to spit his food on a napkin. Both were so grossed out by it, that they started laughing again. Simon hid his face on Hugh's shoulder, practically using his fit of laughter as an excuse to snuggle against him, and Hugh used his own angriness as an excuse to stay right there, telling the entire world to go to hell, and willing to keep doing it forever, just as long as the conversation didn't end and they had to go home. 
Georgia and Tamaya would kill them. It was already late at night. 
Fourth try
Year 17
It was already late night when they arrived at the motel.
Simon had stayed invisible the entire time they were at the reception like he always did when they had one of those more… private nights out. Hugh was the one who was in charge of booking the room because Simon got too anxious anyway at the mere idea of ​​having to interact with one of the receptionists.
It was one thing for his entire family (or the Council, as they had been calling themselves lately, as a joke) to know that tonight he was going to have sex. Strangers knowing it was a completely different thing.
He still wasn't quite sure which one was more embarrassing, but yeah. It was different.
He only became visible again when Hugh closed the door behind him.
Simon looked at the huge sports bag that Hugh carried with him. “What you got there?”
“Nothing important,” he assured with a shrug. He was smiling like he was a kid getting a bunch of presents at Christmas, and Simon was extremely happy too, so, without asking any more questions, he kissed him on the lips and went to the bathroom to give both of them time to get ready.
Not that they hadn't done that before. They didn't like having such intimate moments in the house. And even if they had wanted to, it was practically impossible to have even a minute of privacy there. The last time he had slept in a room by himself had probably been… never. And the number of occasions someone had opened the bathroom door while he was there were more than he could count. The door lock had been broken for a few weeks but nobody knew how to solve the problem because they had no idea how doors worked. Georgia had tried to implement a serious policy of knocking before entering any room with the door closed, but the only one who paid attention to her was Adrian because the rest of them were simply too used to walk around the house as if they were in their own houses. (That they were their house, but it was more Simon's house than theirs.)
In fact, it was the first time in forever that he was in a bathroom and he didn't have to put his hand on the door, to stop whoever tried to open the door before they ended up seeing him in the most vulnerable of positions, so Simon took off his T-shirt, his jeans, and sat on the toilet, wearing his underwear and his jacket, trying to enjoy his first moment of privacy in a long time.
At least until his legs started to feel cold and Hugh told him that he could go out now.
When he came out of the room, Hugh, who was lying on the bed, widened his eyes. Simon was already ready to hear a flattering comment, but instead, he frowned and asked, “Are you going to leave your socks on?”
Simon looked at his feet automatically. He had indeed left his socks on.
He didn't see anything wrong with it.
“The carpet is filthy,” he replied. “I don't want to get fungus or something like that.”
Hugh found no fault with his logic. “Okay, but take them off when you get on the bed,” he asked.
Then Simon realized that Hugh, not only never stopped doing that ridiculous pose that pretended to be sexy throughout the entire conversation, but he also had thrown out the (probably dirty) bedsheets from the motel bed and put instead one of the blankets they took out of the closet to cover themselves during winter.
So that's what he carried in his sports backpack.
Hugh seemed to realize that Simon was looking at the blanket and not at him, because he immediately said, “Oh, I hate motel bedsheets.”
Simon couldn't help but laugh. “You hate them?”
Hugh finally stopped doing that ridiculous pose and sat down. “You just never know who sleep in them before us, Simon,” he replied, “and you never know when was the last time they washed them. Maybe they— ” he pointed to the pile of blankets thrown away “—are covered on the… bodily fluids of twenty other people, and you want me to lie on them? Is that how you want us to make love? Like animals?”
Simon kept laughing, but Hugh wasn’t laughing. “Simon, stop it!” he exclaimed. “A new class of bacteria could be there, ‘cause— oh, I am convinced that those things have a new kind of bacteria no one has discovered yet, and— ”
And he went silent when Simon put his hands on his shoulders, still with a smile on his lips.
“What?”
“Hugh, have I ever told you I think you're really sexy when you out crazy me?” Simon asked, running his fingers through his hair.
Hugh stood still, looking directly into his eyes. “No, I think you haven’t.”
Simon shrugged. “Well— I think you're really, really, sexy when you out crazy me.”
“Well, I think… I think—“
Hugh could no longer continue his sentence. Even though Simon wasn't doing anything to stop him from speaking.
He was literally just standing in front of him, one knee leaning on the mattress and one hand on Hugh's head.
“You think?” he asked him. “That’s new.”
“Simon, wait, I'm trying to seduce you,” Hugh said.
Simon took a step back, pointing to the bathroom door. “I think I’d wait over there.”
“No, wait—” he gently grabbed his wrist before he could move further away “—I’m starting to… Let me think of something.”
Simon chuckled. He put his knee on the mattress again and Hugh grabbed him around his waist, pulling him close to him and resting his head on his chest, while Simon rested his chin on his head. He had just taken a bath when they came out of the house, so Hugh’s hair smelled of him and lemon zest because they have been using dish soap as shampoo the last week.
That was the kind of privacy that they sometimes lacked at home. He was no longer talking about sex. Simon craved to have him like this, so close to him. Both in their underwear, both in a practically unknown place, and both completely vulnerable, but together. Feeling at home, even if technically they weren't.
Because Hugh was his home.
He was sure he saw him that way too.
Simon was so focused on trying to capture that moment in his memory so that he could repeat it over and over again for the rest of his life, that he was totally thrown when Hugh blurted out:
“I think you have a nice dick, dude.”
Simon broke the hug ... “What?”
Hugh’s cheeks turned even redder. “Tell me I didn't say that.”
He put a hand up to try to hide his laughter. “No, I think you did.”
He still couldn’t believe that was Hugh’s best try to seduce him. And apparently, Hugh couldn't believe it either.
“Then— forget about it,” he stammered. “Let's all of us forget about it.”
Simon realized that he tried to grab him by the waist again, but he moved away just in time, pretending to be extremely offended. “So I don't have a nice dick.”
“Let's just stop saying the word dick, please.”
“You started it.”
“I PANICKED, ALL RIGHT?”
“PANICKING IS MY JOB!”
“I’M TAKING YOUR JOB THEN. AND I’M GONNA STEAL YOUR BOYFRIEND TOO IF YOU KEEP LAUGHING!”
Simon didn't try to pretend that he wasn't laughing, because he was more than aware that it was already too obvious at this point. 
So he decided it was better to play along.
“No, don't take my boyfriend!” he exclaimed dramatically, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Take me instead.”
Hugh took him by the waist and pulled him close. Simon didn't try to walk away this time. “Deal.”
But when Simon was about to start kissing him, he diverted his attention from Hugh for a split second, making him realize the curtains were wide open. “Oh, shoot, wait— the curtains.”
Luckily he hadn’t taken off his socks yet.
With quick steps, he headed to the window. He put a hand on each curtain and was about to close it completely when the lights of a car approaching from the end of the street caught his attention. It was a yellow sports car that looked more like a ripe banana than a vehicle.
Shit.
It stopped a few feet past the motel they were at. Out of it came a short man, with scars on his face and thin hair, and a tall blonde woman in a yellow dress, very inappropriate for the occasion. Not because it was provocative thought. It’s just that no one would wear such an expensive-looking dress in such a dangerous neighborhood unless they wanted to be robbed.
Or that they had enough status not to be.
Simon turned to see Hugh. “Hey—” Hugh looked up slightly. “—Come here.”
Hugh obeyed, a little bit confused, after putting his socks on (obviously). Simon had closed the curtains just enough for them not to be noticed but also not so much that they couldn’t see what was happening on the street.
Hugh gasped. “Are those—“
Simon swallowed hard. “Cyanide and Queen Bee in person.”
“What are they doing here?” 
Simon had as much an idea of ​​what Queen Bee and Cyanide were doing there as Hugh had, but he responded with the first thing that came to his mind anyway.
“Probably celebrating Valentine's Day,” he replied. “What a shitty place to take your girlfriend during Valentine’s Day though.”
At least take her to a motel. Like I did with Hugh.
“Do you think Queen Bee and Cyanide are together?” Hugh asked Simon.
Simon shrugged. “I don't know, but I know Queen Bee has a thing for Ace Anarchy.”
He had the slight hope that Hugh would take the bait and give him a chance to discuss his theories about Queen Bee's fixation with Ace Anarchy (which he always talked about with Tamaya), but Hugh, despite being very nosy, just kept quiet, watching Queen Bee and Cyanide argue outside the car.
How could that woman walk in such big heels?
“Or maybe Cyanide is the one who has a thing for Ace Anarchy,” Hugh blurted out suddenly.
Simon turned to see him. “Wait, really?”
“Don't be so heteronormative, Simon,” he scolded him. “Plus, I've never been in the cathedral, but I bet that when you enter there, it reeks homosexuality.”
“Dude—”
“I just know.”
And they kept watching. 
There was something very personal about seeing two people arguing from a distance, like old ladies peering out of their home windows whenever the neighbors had a particularly loud fight. Simon almost considered it romantic.
Then, Queen Bee tried to turn around to turn her back on Cyanide, but something went wrong with her heel and she went face first towards the sidewalk, letting out a scream that could make someone think she was being murdered, and causing Cyanide (and the two of them) to laugh out loud.
How could that woman walk with those heels? Well, apparently, she couldn't.
The tension he felt when Cyanide interrupted his laughter and turned around as if he knew someone was watching them, made him remember that they were not gossiping old ladies peeking out of the window of their house and that those two were not some neighbors having a little fight. No, they were Dread Warden and Captain Chromium, stuffed into a hotel room like they were fugitives from the law or something, and those two little people in the middle of the street were two of the most feared and powerful villains in the world.
There was nothing romantic about that.
So Simon immediately closed the curtains. 
But now neither of them was in the mood to have sex anymore, really.
“We should do something.”
“I'm on it.”
Hugh was already crouched slightly by the bedside, pulling his unmistakable superhero suits out of his sports bag.
Simon was so puzzled that he couldn't even stop to enjoy the… image that Hugh was inadvertently giving him by bending down like that.
“Wait, did you actually bring our supersuits to our date?” he asked him.
“Yeah,” he replied without looking up.
Who knows what kind of demon got into Simon at the time, but a not very family-friendly thought crossed his mind, and that thought was the one that made him ask, “Why?”
Hugh, completely unaware of what he was thinking, handed Simon his clothes and dropped the two pairs of boots on the floor as he sat in the bed. 
Only the stars knew how he had managed to fit a blanket, their shoes, and their suits in that sports backpack.
“Because I thought something like this was gonna happen,” he explained while putting on his leggings. “You know, crime doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day the same way we do.”
Oh.
The little not very family-friendly thought hadn't been right then.
Simon felt a bit sick admitting that he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.
“Oh. I thought...”
Hugh looked at him, intrigued, and a second later, he understood what Simon was thinking. “Oh, stars, no. I was not thinking about that.”
“All right then.”
Now it was Hugh's turn to watch him change. Simon knew that was what he was doing.
Because he knew his look better than he knew anyone else's.
When he was fully dressed, Simon reached out to reach for his shoes, and Hugh put his own hand over his', to get his attention.
He already had the mask on, but he could see that he had turned red. If Simon had been white too, he probably would be redder than him. 
He swallowed. “Unless— unless you're into it?”
Simon swallowed too. But he didn’t plan to answer him right now.
It had been hard enough to put on their suits. They didn’t need to start taking them off. 
So he pulled his hand away and started putting on his shoes.
“Hugh, the villains—” he reminded him.
“Right, right.” Hugh brushed off his knees. “The villains. That’s important.”
After making sure the door had the lock on (and that said lock worked), they turned off the lights, Simon turned invisible, and Hugh climbed onto the roof, pushing himself off the window frame as fast as possible so that Queen Bee and Cyanide, who were turning their backs on them, standing in front of the door of an apparently abandoned building as if waiting for someone, did not see him. Afterward, Simon followed him, assuring him that he could climb on his own.
The two remained hiding behind the building's water tank. Well, Hugh was behind the building's water tank, and Simon was in plain sight, invisible, with his hood on and his cape fluttering behind him, making him feel…
He wanted to say that it made him feel heroic, but the truth was that Simon also felt very sexy when he got into this mysterious and threatening mode. 
Simon turned his hand visible and pointed at them as if to say "Are we going or what?"
Hugh turned to see them with a frown, analyzing the situation. But when Simon was about to ask him what they were waiting for, Hugh turned to see him, with the same smile he had on his face when he was about to let the world know the coolest plan of all the plans, completely ignorant that in reality, it was the dumbest thing he had ever came up with.
“Wait, I have an idea.”
And in that situation, Simon had to take the role of being the one to tell him that his idea was bullshit and that it wasn't going to work, but he used to listen to his idea before expressing his comments about it. Not only because he didn't like talking without knowing all the facts first, but because may he could go to Tamaya the next day and tell her what had happened in the last episode of Hugh Had an Idea And It Went Wrong.
(They also enjoy episodes of Evander Acted Like An Animal Again and Queen, Realize That Junkie Doesn’t Care About You, Please.)
“Do you remember that song Evander used to sing to us?” he asked him.
Oh, Simon remembered it and cringed every time he thought about it.
But the cringe wasn't enough to stop him from singing the song.
“The Warden and the Captain are sitting in a tree—”
Hugh cringed too. “That one, yes. Stars, I hate it so much—” and he pointed to Queen Bee and Cyanide “—Let's make them hate it too. ”
Simon seriously tried to take his role as the voice of reason in that situation. He let his imagination (or rather, his anxiety) run wild, making him imagine the thousand and one scenarios in which that specific fight could turn out worse than they usually did if Hugh made that comment. Queen Bee would probably call Hugh a "lesbian" (“You have a lesbian haircut, honeybun, accept it”), Cyanide would go crazy trying to find Dread Warden to melt his skin slowly and painfully, everyone would wish death upon everyone, and the only reason the fight would end would be because either Cyanide would finally manage to injure Simon or because Queen Bee’s stilettos would break.
He didn't see how teasing them with an attack worthy of elementary school kids would make the situation worst.
Besides… it was going to be hilarious to see that.
He didn't see why he couldn't co-star in Hugh Had Idea and It Went Wrong.
“I'm in,” he replied, trying not to raise his voice too much. “I'm super in.”
Hugh rose his hand and Simon high-fived him quietly. But Hugh seized the opportunity to take his hand, running his finger across his knuckles. “Okay, but you sing the spelling part, because—”
“You don't know how to spell,” Simon interrupted.
Hugh let go of his hand. “Well, when you said it in that tone, it sounds a little mean.”
Simon rolled his eyes and took his hand again. Then the logical part of his brain (yes, the same one that always insisted on being the voice of reason in situations like that) began to yell at him that he should convince Hugh to let Cyanide and Queen Bee did whatever they wanted, while the two of them did whatever they wanted.
But that the logical part of him had no voice in that situation because the logical part of his brain was not the part that loved Hugh. After all, there was nothing logical in loving the way he made a kind of mini-horn with both hands, took a deep breath, and yelled with all his might:
 “CYANIDE AND THE QUEEN BEE SITTING IN A TREE—”
Fifth try
Year 20
K-i-s-s-i-n-g.
That was what he wanted to be doing. He wanted to be kissing Simon. He wanted to be with him, walking in the park and watching life go by in front of them. The birds singing from the trees, the children chasing each other, and the wind ruffling their hair. The day was going to be so perfect that he was going to be able to ignore homeless people getting high on corners or young people dealing drugs (that should be) illegal, focusing all his attention on Simon and how happy he felt that this time, everything he was going well.
He didn't want to be crammed into the living room with the rest of his family, listening to the thunder and the rain crashing down on the ceiling.
But apparently, that's what he was doing.
Tamaya was sitting on the floor, covering herself with her wings. Simon had sat on the other end of the three-seater couch, looking out the living room window with a thoughtful expression, worthy of a character in a Shakespearean play or something. Evander was leaning over him and had Kasumi on his lap. She was watching him play (or rather trying to play) a Tetris game that he had on his phone, putting her icy feet on Hugh's arm, probably without realizing it, and Hugh was on the other end of the couch, first starting at Simon, thinking of how handsome he looked when he was thinking, and then at Georgie. She had been smart enough to sit on the reclining sofa, which gave her the space she needed to cuddle with an inconsolable six-year-old Adrian.
“The storm will end soon,” she was telling him. “The storm will end soon.”
But that was not enough to comfort Adrian. His mother had already been telling him for about an hour that “the storm will end soon”, but the storm just ... did not end. And each time they heard a new thunder, Adrian let out a howl and clung to his mother with more force, asking her to please not go away.
Everyone knew that when Adrian asked Georgie not to go away, he was actually asking everyone not to go away. If any of them left the room, he would probably lose his mind.
He felt the urge to tell him that she wasn't going anywhere. That wasn’t very Georgie. Georgie didn't leave people who needed her like that, scared, crying, and begging her to stay. So since Georgie didn't do it, neither did the others.
It is not like they could have gone anywhere though.
Georgie realized that Simon hadn't stopped staring out the window.
“I'm sorry you couldn't do anything special this Valentine’s Day,” she whispered. Simon blinked as if he were waking up from a dream. “What did you have planned for this evening?”
Simon turned to see him, disappointed. Hugh decided to answer for him.
“We were going to have a picnic at the park,” he replied.
Georgie blurted out something that sounded like “Awww”, and Evander scoffed.
“That’s gay.” Hugh put his arm behind Kasumi and smacked Evander on the back of his head. “BRO, YOU LITERALLY MADE LOSE ME.”
Tamaya laughed and Kasumi shook her head. “I want to play too—” she tried to take the cellphone and Evander pressed it closer to his chest “—Vandy.”
Georgie intervened (without letting go of Adrian). “Vandy, give Kasumi the phone. It’s her turn. And then it's mine.”
But Evander didn’t want to. 
“But it only has ten percent of battery left,” he exclaimed.
“Perfect, it's more than enough for Tamaya, Kasumi, Simon, Hugh, and I to get a turn too.”
“Hugh punched me! He does not deserves a turn.”
“I didn't punch him,” Hugh said. “I just hit him very slightly.”
“My brain almost felt out of my head.”
“Do you still have a brain?” Tamaya asked. Hugh high-fived her. “I've been thinking about that joke for weeks, dude.”
“Evander Wade, share the phone,” Georgia said. “I'm no longer asking.”
“No! It's my phone.”
Desperate, Tamaya reached out to take Evander's cell phone, and he stood up so fast that Kasumi ended up falling on Tamaya.
“MOTHERFU—”
A thunder. Again.
Adrian started crying. Again.
And they all went silent. Again.
Hugh took advantage of the fact that Evander got out of the coach to move closer to Simon. Evander didn't say anything to him because he was too busy handing the cell phone to Tamaya, who then gave it to Kasumi. Kasumi refused to sit down with Evander again and stayed on the floor with Tamaya (although resting her head on his knees, as if they were a pillow).
Simon rested his head on Hugh's shoulder.
“Next year will be better,” he whispered in his ear. Simon didn't answer him; he only put his hand on the window, leaving the trace of his fingers on it. “Are you all right?”
Simon put his hand on Hugh’s waist and pulled him closer to him, closing his eyes for a while. “I'm tired…”
“Rest then.”
After all…
Hugh was tried too. 
There had never been a day when they didn't have to face a new threat. It seemed that the Anarchists, instead of getting weaker, were getting stronger. Even with the many new allies the Renegades had, no one seemed to have a second of the day to rest. Adrian got more and more nervous when they went out as days passed by, and it was becoming more difficult to calm down him during his tantrums. Even he, who was a child, could feel the tension in the city.
But precisely because of that, because he was a child, he could not understand the enormous responsibility that the Renegades had on his shoulders and that they could not stay with him, no matter how much they wanted to.
Maybe that was why no one had tried to leave the room. It was their way of telling Adrian that they were still there for him.
He was about to fall asleep when Simon pulled him away. His first instinct was to pull him closer, but as soon as he realized that Simon was just standing up, he let go of him.
Suddenly, he looked happier. Much happier than anyone else in that room.
Everyone noticed that change.
“Are you still too tired to celebrate Valentine’s Day?”
Even Hugh didn't understand what he meant.
Evander turned to see Georgie. “Georgie, you told them no hanky-panky in the house.”
“Vandy—” Kasumi intervened.
“Zoomie.”
“Don't say hanky-panky.”
“Yeah, you sound like a grandma,” Tamaya told him slightly punching him on the leg.
Hugh shushed them. “Shhh, guys, let Si talk.”
“No, go on, guys—” Simon told them “—Let us show you.”
And he held out his hand.
Obviously, Hugh accepted it.
He had no idea what Simon was planning to do, but he wasn't too tired not to celebrate Valentine's.
He was never too tired of him.
Adrian immediately reacted to this. “Hey, no, don't go...” he cried, stretching his little arms towards them.
Luckily, Simon looked like he already had that covered.
“We're not going anywhere, Adrian,” Simon assured him. “You are coming with us.”
Adrian and Georgie's eyes widened at the same time. 
“Me?” Adrian asked pointing to himself.
“You,” Simon replied, confidently. “But it's a very special mission,” he added in a lower voice, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can't tell anyone.”
Adrian rubbed his eyes and Georgie looked up at the ceiling as if she were making sure a new leak hadn't magically appeared. Tamaya, on the contrary, didn't understand, and she stared at the scene, very intrigued by Simon's plan too. Luckily, Georgie noticed it, and with a frantic movement of her hand, told her to stop staring. Hugh made the same move, but this time, directed at Kasumi and Evander.
When Adrian opened his eyes again, everyone but the two of them was pretending they weren't listening to the conversation.
“What mission is it?” Adrian asked in a thin voice.
“Look, we can't go out to celebrate Valentine's Day,” Simon explained, “but what we can do is bring Valentine's Day here with us.”
Adrian looked puzzled.
“Hey, but you're going to need a superhero name to be able to participate in the mission,” Hugh commented, trying to get Adrian more interested. “Do you have any ideas?”
Simon scratched his beard, thinking. “Hmm, very good question, my dear Captain,” he commented. “Maybe—”
“Oh, I know what superhero name I'll have,” Adrian exclaimed, grabbing Simon by the cheeks. “Hey, your beard feels funny.”
Simon grabbed him by the cheeks too. “What’s your superhero name, then?”
Adrian whispered it in his ear and Simon's face lit up. “It's a perfect name, Adrian.”
Adrian shushed him. “Shh, don't say my real name! I have to use my superhero name, remember? It's a mission.”
Evander scoffed again and Kasumi shushed him immediately. 
“And can he tell me your superhero name?” Hugh asked Adrian. 
Adrian stopped to think about it. “Yes, why not?” he finally replied.
Then, Simon stood slightly on tiptoe to reach him and whispered in his ear the most perfect superhero name he had ever heard.
Sketch.
Hugh took Adrian by surprise when he graved him and carried him in his arms, making him gasp in shock and excitement. Even Georgie started to laugh out loud at her son's reaction.
“Ready for the mission, Sketch?” he asked him making his voice lower than it actually was.
Adrian gave a military salute. “I was born ready, Captain!” he exclaimed, moving his feet in the air.
Georgie stood up too. “Where you taking my son, guys?” she asked dramatically.
Hugh placed Adrian on his shoulders.
“Don’t worry, mom,” Adrian told her, “I’ll be fine. I need to accomplish this mission.”
Georgie pretended to start sobbing. “No, but you don't have to, son of mine, you're too young!”
“Listen to your mother, kid,” Tamaya intervened. “Stay with us, stay safe with your family—“ and she passed her wings over Kasumi's shoulders.
“Tamaya has two wings,” Kasumi pointed out. “And they're warm.”
“Really?” Evander asked.
But Tamaya’s face changed immediately. “It's not for you, it's for Adrian.”
“GO WITH THEM, LITTLE SKETCH, GO!” Evander yelled standing up on the sofa. “GO SAVE VALENTINE’S DAY!”
That was enough for Adrian. He kissed his mother on the cheek and told her that he would be back soon. Then the three of them began their journey to the kitchen while the others stayed in the living room.
Simon pulled out a bag of bread from the refrigerator and asked Hugh to pass him the peanut and hazelnut butter jars from the cupboard. Adrian took it upon himself to count the remaining loaves of bread and separate them into pairs, spreading them on the table. Simon encouraged him to count how many pairs there were and Hugh had no problem helping him when he got stuck at number five. Then Simon toasted them on the stove, and he allowed Adrian to pile them up like a tower on a red ceramic plate.
When it was time to make the sandwiches, Simon and Hugh sat at different ends of the table, each holding a butter knife. Simon would spread peanut butter on one of the loaves, Hugh would spread hazelnut on the other, and Adrian would gather them together and wrap them the best he could in a napkin, before putting them in a makeshift basket that Kasumi had made long ago.
“Mommy, no!” yelled Adrian when Georgie dared to enter the kitchen. “It's a secret mission!”
“Don’t worry, don’t mind me,” she told them pretending not to notice what they were doing. “I'm just gonna prepare myself some strawberry milk.”
As soon as Adrian looked away, Georgie winked at Hugh. And Hugh winked back.
“I think we're done with this mission now,” he replied using that ridiculously deep voice again. “You have to break the news to the rest of the team, Sketch.”
Adrian jumped out of his chair and practically ran into the living room, holding the basket with sandwiches in his hand.
The three of them had been so into their mission, they didn't realize that the others had put several blankets on the floor and Tamaya was cursing under her breath for being unable to use a lighter to turn on the candles. Kasumi approached Adrian, with a VHS in each of her hands, asking him which movie he would like to see, and Evander came over too, but to try and tell Adrian to pick the action movie, not the romance movie the girls wanted to see.
Simon seemed like he wanted to join the conversation too, but Hugh thought he had done enough. And he meant it in a good way. So he took him by the hand and they lied down on the couch, not caring that perhaps one of the others wanted to sit on it.
Adrian had already chosen the movie (he chose the period drama over the action movie, thankfully) when Georgie walked into the living room with a stack of plastic cups under her arm and a jug half full of strawberry milk, carrying it as it were a trophy. During her birthday, everyone in the house had raised money to buy her a huge pot of strawberry milk powder, which they made her promise that she would not share.
Some promises could not be kept.
The adults got two sandwiches each, but Adrian had practically all of the strawberry milk. Throughout the movie, Kasumi was sighing and muttering how much she wanted to wear a dress like the one the main character wore in the movie during that elegant dinner. From to time, Tamaya frowned and muttered something about how problematic she found a line or scene. Georgie braided their hair and when she finished, she would undo the braid and start over, laughing out loud at Evander's comments about how horrible the romantic interest looked and that he did not understand how that was the ideal of beauty that women had. Adrian fell asleep in Simon's arms about halfway through, and about that exact time, Hugh began to notice that Simon was starting to have a hard time trying to stay awake.
He looked adorable when he was thinking, but he liked it even more how he looked when he was falling asleep.
He kissed the back of his head. “Are you tired?”
He nodded slightly. “Yes… but never of you.”
Hugh kissed him again. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“What thing?”
Georgie turned around for a second and realized that Adrian had fallen asleep. She stopped braiding Evander’s short hair (for some reason, Evander had let her braid his hair) and sat on the recliner chair, hugging Adrian like a stuffed animal.
She winked at him once more. And Hugh winked back, one more time.
“Nothing— ” he laid himself more comfortably on the couch and allowed Simon to get on top of him, resting his head on his chest. “—Sleep for a while.”
Simon made no further objection. “You too.”
Hugh did not fall asleep. In fact, he stayed awake for the three hours the movie lasted, even though by the time the credits started, Tamaya was snoring and Kasumi and Evander were under her wings, rolled up, and cuddled up to her. Georgie ended up falling asleep on the couch, covered in the same blanket Simon used to cover himself a few hours ago.
When the clock told him it was 7 PM, Hugh knew it was time for them to go patrol. However, the rain had gotten even worse, and Simon...
Simon looked so peaceful.
He hadn't realized how deep the bags under his eyes had gotten, nor that his face hadn't looked as relaxed as it looked right now for weeks, because he frowned most of the time. He hadn't held him that close either or had the opportunity to give him as many kisses as he had been doing in that time. Not because he didn't want to, it was just ... well, they had been busy trying not to die.
How tiring it was to try not to die.
He knew Simon was tired because, again, he was tired too, and he bet that the rest of their family felt the same as them. But Simon was the only one who had overcome his tiredness and his moodiness to just... make them forget their sorrows for a moment. 
He was like that.
Hugh gave him one more kiss on the cheek.
Thank you. 
If Simon had been awake, he would have asked him "Thanks for what?"
And Hugh would have answered him, "For just being you."
Someday they would get their happy ending. But for the moment, all he wanted was to be crammed into the living room with the rest of his family, listening to the thunder and the rain crashing down on the ceiling.
He doubted that happiness would ever end.
Sixth (but not last) try
Two years after the Day of Triumph.
Just over a year ago, Simon had been on the roof of the same building he was currently in. Of course, it looked very different from how it looked now. It didn’t have any windows, no furniture, and, obviously, no electricity. It was the vile shell of what had once been one of the most beautiful skyscrapers in the city. Simon was thinking about that when he realized that he did not have a single memory of having seen that place when it was in its maximum splendor and that the only proof he had of it was the stories of those adults who arrived before him.
That sooner or later, he would become one of those adults. Those who told stories of the past to the generations that came after them.
He thought of Adrian. He thought that there would come a time when he would be curious to know certain things that happened and would ask questions that Simon would not be too sure how to answer. Not precisely because he didn't want to or because he thought he wasn't ready to hear the truth; he just didn’t know those truths at all. 
Why did people change for the worst? How did the world use to be when prodigies weren’t divided by heroes or villains?
What happened to Lady Indomitable?
How did the world use to be before she was gone?
Then Simon, with tears in his eyes, looked up at the crescent moon and the six stars lined up in such a way that they seemed to form a smile. He hadn’t seen anyone in his family smile for… a very long time. 
Because when Georgia Rawles left, she took with her their capacity to smile. 
Yet, at that moment, Simon could feel her. He could feel her when he was crying, asking her to please fly again and to help him get down from that skyscraper. He felt her hugging him, keeping him from falling to his knees and cutting his skin with the shattered glass that was on the floor. She promised him that she would never give up on him and assured him that every time he saw the sky, he would find those six stars forming that smile, which from that moment on, would be hers. 
Simon didn't want her to make promises, but… it was Georgie. His Georgie. The Georgie who made pinky promises even though she was about to turn thirty because you were never too old for pinky promises. The Georgie who always protected him and never gave up on him, even though there were times when Simon thought she should.
So since she was his Georgie, Simon accepted the promise. As she turned around and rose again to the sky, he wondered what would happen when the city was so full of light, that the stars (Georgie’s smile) faded away and everyone, including them, forgot about them (about her). 
But, after all this time, Simon was looking at the stars, on the roof of that same skyscraper that had now been turned into a fancy restaurant, holding Hugh's hand across the table, and noticing that Georgie was still smiling at him from above.
As it always should be.
“Did you ever expect things to turn out like this when you were little?”
He turned to see Hugh again. “What things?”
But Hugh kept staring at the stars. Simon didn't care. He liked to think that the sparkle in his blue eyes was due to them. “Us.”
Simon shook his head, “No,” he answered when he remembered Hugh couldn’t look at him. “Did you?”
Finally, Hugh saw him again. “I think that when I was little, I didn’t know one could be as happy as I am with you right now.”
Simon rolled his eyes. 
“I'm serious,” Hugh insisted, taking him just a little tighter by the hand. “I'm so glad we finally made it out.”
Simon leaned forward slightly. “We really did, huh?”
Then, Hugh gently pulled him closer to him, making their foreheads bump and closing his eyes. “And I'm so glad that now, nothing bad is gonna happen to you, to us, and to what we have.”
Simon closed his eyes too. He would have liked to promise Hugh that it would be like that. That this new chapter of their lives, the chapter of getting married, having kids, and rebuilding a city together, was would turn out as well as the last one, when they fought crime, defeated the bad guys, and held hands only when they were not wearing the armors that protected them from the outside world. 
But he could not promise that. And anyways, Hugh was not very fond of promises. He said they were very easy to break.
So he grabbed his chin and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before saying, “It's getting late. We should ask for the check.”
Hugh nodded and called a waiter. He noticed that Simon was reaching into his pocket and quickly told him not to do it, that he got it. Simon knew there was nothing he could do to make him change his mind, so he instead just asked if he could get a slice of chocolate cake to go. Adrian would love to have chocolate cake for breakfast.  
The waiter returned a few moments later with the bill (and Adrian’s chocolate cake). Simon almost winced when he saw the amount of money they had spent on a meal that hadn’t been that good in the first place (although he did not know if it was because of the lack of ingredients or because gourmet food kind of sucked). However, Hugh didn't seem at all concerned and reached into his pockets to get his wallet.
Suddenly, he leaned his elbows on the table. “Simon.” 
Simon leaned his elbows on the table too. “Yes?”
“Have I mentioned you look very handsome tonight?”
He tried to remember. “No,” he replied. “But thank you for noticing. I even took a shower.”
“Wow,” Hugh exclaimed with too much enthusiasm. “Feeling fancy today.”
“I do feel fancy today,” Simon replied, adjusting the jacket he had put on over his pink button-up shirt at the last moment because Hugh had told him that the restaurant had a pretty rigid dress code.
Simon almost didn’t put on the jacket out of pure spite. In fact, he spent all the way ranting about how it was stupid to have such a specific dress code in a place like Gatlon City, and that he bet that the owners of that restaurant, who now were acting like total snobs, had spent most of their lives wearing only a t-shirt and old jeans, like the rest of them.
Hugh, who had been wearing the jacket from the beginning (a blue one), was quiet, listening carefully to what Simon was saying until he blurted out:
“We can do something else if you want to.”
He didn't say it in an “I’m hurt by your comment” tone. Instead, he said it the same way he would tell him that they could watch another movie or that they could get take out instead of cooking dinner. He said it as if the reservation he made was not at stake, or as if he hadn’t been sending him hints of wanting to go to that specific restaurant since New Year.
Simon knew that if he had said yes, Hugh would have taken him wherever he wanted. However, Simon also knew that it didn't matter where they went. They had spent Valentine's in an alley, at a fair, fighting villains, and in a house too small for seven people. And in all those places, he had a great time.
Surely that place was… snobbish, but he could have a great time there too.
After all, they were together. 
He was sure Hugh knew that too. 
Hugh nodded, agreeing with him. He hardly ever agreed with someone other than himself anymore.
“Is this your strange way of making me say you look good too?” he asked him then.
And Hugh’s smile grew bigger. “Simon Westwood, you are the love of my life,” he replied taking his hand, “and this is my strange way of telling you I forgot my wallet at home.”
Simon laughed so loudly that the other customers turned to see him. But he couldn't care less. He kind of wanted them to saw them. He wanted them to notice how much he was laughing and he wanted them to see him kiss Hugh as he reached for his pockets…
Oh, no.
“Hugh.”
He tensed. “Yes, dear husband of mine who’s going to pay for this dinner?”
“You look good too.”
That was enough for Hugh to realize that Simon had also left his wallet at the house.
The two remained serious for a long time. But then, Simon could see how Hugh's brain clicked in a very strange way, which made him see this whole situation as the funniest thing that had ever happen to him.
He kissed him once more.
They always managed to ruin their Valentine's Days one way or another, but it didn't matter. Because there was no way they could ruin what the two of them had.
Boy, he would like to see someone try.
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Text
The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 12: Final Home Exercise Program
Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Dawson)
Summary: Our lovers spend one last night together and the next morning have a serious discussion about their future after more new information comes to light about Sy’s upcoming training. Can the new relationship sustain the stress? Are Shane’s feelings justified, or can they overcome what lies before them?
Spoilers suck! Start from the top or wherever you left off HERE!
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings:  Language, mature themes, smut, angst…well, near angst. As angsty as I get.
Author’s Note: Sorry this has taken so long, my darling dears! I’m currently on vacation and although I was hoping to be inspired by new surroundings, it’s given me WICKED writer’s block! I have a pretty solid plan for more chapters, though, so, buckle up!
Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.
Tags: 
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@summersong69
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@bloodyinspiredfuck
@agniavateira
@oddsnendsfanfics
@omgkatinka
@thisismysecretthirstblog
@misslaland (apparently deactivated, idk what’s up with that)
@speakerforthedead0
@tumblnewby
@suavechops
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@heartfelt-pen
@auds24
Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)
X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@
Sy's last two PT appointments could not have gone better. On paper, anyway. He was at full strength in his injured knee, his range of motion was better than it was in the so-called good knee, and he hadn't complained of pain above a 2/10 in the last five sessions. He'd even been using the treadmill properly the last two weeks, working up to his own goal of running again. Her goals for him were met…they could have probably stopped a session short, but she'd wanted to give him a few more handouts to finalize his HEP…and well, she'd be in major trouble for saying so, but…she couldn't stand the thought of cancelling that last visit. It felt like quitting, even though it would have been justified.
In practice, however, there was a tension between them that had never existed before. Something creating awkward energy that they couldn't seem to shake. They hadn't seen each other much outside of therapy this week, either. Not since the night of their argument. Sy had to do a lot of prep for his trip to Virginia, and Shane's caseload this week had been ridiculous. Dozens of evaluations and updates and calls to various companies on different kinds of splints and orthotics she was hoping to get for a few of her patients. A lot of time spent on the phone meant a lot of after-hours documentation. She needed a break. Even if it meant she'd have to do some work over the weekend. Sy was leaving tomorrow to get settled in Charlottesville before the big training course began. She didn't want them to be apart on his last night home for a month.
"Hey, as a celebration of your discharge from PT and your new career trajectory, how about dinner on me tonight?"
"But…you don't really want me to leave town…or to be done with therapy. Not that I, myself, won't miss you feeling me up in public." he smirked as she took his last set of range of motion measurements, her hands gently holding one arm of her goniometer to the side of his thigh…suddenly too aware of him.
"Not entirely true. I'm glad you're better, I'll just miss seeing you through the day. It breaks up the…" she sighed "the monotony of my daily life. Also, why would I want you to leave town? What would that say about me as your girlfriend?" she explained.
"S'pose you're right."
"In this case, yes. Yes I am." She winked at him.
They finished up and she gave him a few more exercises to keep in his arsenal to maintain strength and range in both knees.
"Okay, now, I won't be around to harass you about these, but keep doing them regularly, and just modify them as I've notated if they get too easy. Try to just do more reps, though. I wouldn't try to bulk it up just yet, and that's what you'll do with more weight added."
"Yes, ma'am." he said for old time's sake. She shook her head and smirked.
"And listen, please. This is your physical therapist talking right now. Be careful and mindful during … your cross country training." she wanted to call it "Survivor-Virginia," but refrained. She knew it would get his hackles up. And she was taking enough of a chance insisting that he be careful. "Nature has perils for the perfectly fit. The already injured are at a disadvantage from the gate. Mind your footing. And try not to run unless you have to. Uneven surfaces are not your friend just yet. You still need to work up to that. If you want, I'll help you with it when you get back. Just…don't undo all this work we've done together."
He seemed to see his woman peeking out from behind the mask of his therapist. Concern coloring the neutral and clinical advice she was giving him.
"I'll do my best, sunshine." he held her by the arms and kissed her forehead. It felt too intimate for the setting, but they had done worse. "I'll see ya tonight then?"
"Yeah, I'll bring some food by your place after work. What do you want?"
"Hmmm…I'll let you know." he kissed her cheek and left.
The next hour was her lunch, so she had time to contemplate what seeing him walk out for the last time had made her feel. She sighed, and started to well up, getting out her lunch bag to begin eating and documenting when a knock came at the door frame.
It was Sy, looking forlorn and manic and altogether a mess. Very unlike himself.
"I got out to the truck and something just felt wrong about the way I left today. As if it was any other day. Not our last session. You were trying to get that to land…I'm a little slow. But I finally got it." he walked to her, grabbing her up from her chair in a hug that mended all of the broken parts of her. Squeezed her back together when she'd been damn near falling apart. "Shane, you…you did more than just make me better. You've…made me better. Happier. Whole. I'll never be able to thank you properly for all of this, but…I intend to try for as long as you'll let me."
He held her while her tears fell softly onto his Def Leppard shirt. This was what she needed. For him to simply hold her, complete her, love her.
"Also, I think I'd like Chinese food tonight." she laughed into his neck.
"You idiot."
"You still like me."
"I do. And you don't need to worry about thanking me, Sy. You return the favor daily by just…being you…and being mine." She pulled him in to a ferociously sexy kiss, her hands in his hair, still too short for her liking, but getting there.
He broke away, neither wanting it to end, but both knowing it must, all the same.
"I thought we couldn't do this at your work?" he inquired, slightly out of breath.
"We couldn't do this while you were a patient. You're officially discharged. Last appointment over. All I have to do is sign your note and it's a done deal. But now…if you wanted to drop by for lunch sometime when you get back from training for your fancy job…we could…make it a regular occurrence." she smiled up into his entrancing blue eyes, sparkling with promise.
"I like the sound of that, sunshine." he gave her one more chaste kiss before his official goodbye. "See ya tonight."
As she watched him leave, she remembered thinking to herself one day how he probably used to take very confident strides…that hardly did his walk justice.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She ordered their favorites, four entrees total, so they had options, crab rangoon, egg rolls, dumplings, the works. She would be happy to eat off the leftovers all weekend. She wasn't fussy. She loved leftover Chinese takeout.
He met her at the door, having advance warning of her arrival from the canine burglar alarm, Aika.
"You got her. Good girl." he said sweetly thanking the pup for sounding off the Twilight Bark throughout the neighborhood.
"Hello!" She handed off the food to Sy and scratched at the German Shepherd's ears the way she liked, her tail wagging with joyous speed.  
"I thought we could set up a buffet on the coffee table downstairs while we watch TV?"
"Sounds great!" She said, with an enthusiasm that sounded almost forced. She wasn't able to fully shake this foreboding she felt saying goodbye to him, no matter how long they'd be apart.
Sy grabbed plates and silverware while Shane got them some beverages, and they headed downstairs, Aika knowing her boundaries did not extend to the basement except by invitation, whined at their descent. Sy wasn't having it.
"Oh, don't give us that sob story, ya brat." he rolled his eyes at Shane.
"Aww, can't she come down with us?"
"No way. I want you all to myself." a devilish smirk twitched up the corners of his mouth making him even more handsome.
"Aika has nothin' on you. You're the real dog." she teased.
"I make no excuses or arguments. I'm gonna be selfish with you tonight." they put the food and supplies on the coffee table and he caught her up into his arms. He seemed to want to inhale her into his lungs.
"Mmmm, as endearing as I've always found generosity, I really like the sound of that." She let out a huff of amusement.
They spent an uncharacteristically short amount of time choosing something to watch. They'd already started a miniseries together, and they wanted to finish it before Sy left. It was a British political thriller with a lot of intrigue and quite a bit of sex. They only had two hours left, so they finished it quickly as they ate.
They decided to put on something familiar afterward. Die Hard. Which they both quoted with ridiculous precision. They were cuddled into each other on the big sectional, lulled into comfort by the familiar security of the dialogue and the warmth of the other.
Soon, Sy's hand found its way to Shane's thigh. It inched its way inside and up. She felt like he could hear her heart rate quicken, just as she knew he could hear her breaths come with more effort due to his touch.
She looked at him, and despite her apprehension about his decision to leave her so early in their relationship, she wanted him. She'd known for so long now. It felt like forever, for longer than they'd even known one another. A ridiculous notion. But with that same gaze, she begged him to continue. The signal was not lost on the captain. His mouth punished hers in a kiss so deliciously violent and needy she thought there was no way he couldn't feel the same for her. She pushed to the back of her busy mind all of the negative emotions the kiss brought up, the confusion as to how and why he was going to leave her when he clearly needed her just as badly as she needed him, and just let this beautiful moment become what it would.
As hard as that was to do.
The way he touched her was a pretty effective distraction. One hand held her firmly against his mouth by the nape while the other built friction in her over her jeans. She felt her body's primal responses of the building pressure and her hands gripping at his shirt. His guttural moan at her answering touch only fueled the inferno in her. She needed more of him. She thrust up into his hand wantonly. He took himself away from her, cruelly, but to be so very kind, she would soon see. He undid her jeans and tugged them down, along with her panties. In the process, he repositioned her conveniently at the edge of the sofa. He scooted the coffee table out of the way enough to kneel before her. He tortured her with kisses from her knee up her inner thigh on both sides before continuing those kisses where she really needed them.
His warm breath hit her first and she arched, aching in anticipation for the corporeal. He looked up at her with his dervish's grin, seeing the desire on her face and feeling it course through her body, and although he was a better man than her previous lovers, and a better man than most, no man was so good that making his woman feel like this didn't make him feel like a god.
"Darlin', you're so gorgeous like this." he said as he teased her with his mouth. Her words failed. She had only unintelligible syllables for him. He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed thoroughly amused by her speechlessness. Amused and encouraged. She'd never felt like this before. His lips and tongue worked over her trembling flesh, both as familiar paths and brand new territory. Discovering the new and remembering the familiar, all at once.
"Sy." she whispered, so close to her peak, and needing him to continue, but unable to do more than moan his name.
"I know, sugar. I know it won't be long. Whenever you're ready, sweetheart."
And she fell apart under his expert touch. He soothed her body down from the climax and asked her if she was ready for bed.
"I think not!" she replied. "The movie isn't over." and she pulled him up to her by the cheeks into another crushing kiss and guided him to the couch. She kicked her bottoms off her ankles to avoid tripping and repositioned herself between his legs as he'd done with her.
"You don't have to, sunshine." he caressed her jaw.
"I know, babe. I want to. Let me do this for you." He was always eager to taste her but she'd yet to return the favor at his own request. She was done letting him decline. She didn't want him leaving without giving him this small parting gift.
It wasn't as if she was unfamiliar with how big he was. She'd touched him, and had him inside her…but seeing him this close was different. She fully appreciated what a feat it was to take him.
She started in with her own tricks, which made him moan, just as planned. His hands laced gently and lovingly in her hair as she worked her mouth and hands over him. She looked up at him after a few moments to gauge his reaction and couldn't have been more pleased. His expression was one of pure, tortured bliss. She felt so powerful.
"Angel, I'm not gonna last much longer." she took that as her cue to get on top of him.
She joined their bodies with a groan of ecstasy that he echoed. She gripped his shoulders as she moved against him, slow and measured at first, but becoming more frantic and erratic as she chased her climax. One hand remaining on her hip, the other came to her chin and directed her gaze to him. Her eyes, blazing with desire, met his, full of tears. She fell against his lips, as she climbed higher, needing that final push to send her over. Which it did, tumbling into that familiar bliss, that she'd have to savor for…well, too long. She didn't want to think too hard about that. This would be their last night together for several weeks. And she wanted to make the most of it. She looked at him, nodded, and after a few more thrusts, he came to his own pinnacle with a shudder beneath her, clutching at her back, resting his head on her sternum. She held him there, and took a few cleansing breaths with her own cheek pressed against his lengthening hair. She stroked the ones at the back of his neck for a moment as they came down from their impossible high.
"Shall we continue this upstairs?" she asked as the cheery, festive, and entirely out-of-season notes of "Let It Snow" played on the TV with the rolling credits of Die Hard. He grinned.
"Yeah, if I still have bones in my legs." he kissed her neck, just above the collar of her tee. "And I'll come down later and clear all this up. We'll just have to close the door so Aika doesn't come down and have herself a party. She's a good dog, but I'm not about to tempt her."
Shane carefully slid off of Sy's lap, attempting not to make too much of a mess, grabbed her panties and slipped them on for the walk to Sy's room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The musical chiming of Sy's phone alarm came too damned early. They'd barely slept, not wanting to waste a moment together. When they finally nodded off after their last round of fervent love-making, they wrapped themselves around one another and were both out like lights in no time. Now he was untangling himself from her to turn the noise off and presumably begin the process of getting ready to leave for the airport. He only snoozed it, though, and pulled her more tightly against his bare, hairy chest.
"What time is it?" She asked, bleary from lack of sleep and extreme fatigue. Not that she was complaining.
"Seven. But my flight doesn't leave until 10, and it's just from the base. There's a flight leaving there for  Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport and I'm hitchin' a ride with them."
"Oh good. I had anticipated we'd have to drive to Springfield, or even St. Louis this morning." She would do it for Sy, of course, but she wasn't looking forward to a six hour minimum round trip, half of which she would have to make alone.
"Nah, and I'm hoping to work something out for the return trip, too, but I'll let you know about that, then. I've made those open ended, though, because I don't know about the return date."
"Sure. God, that's so…crazy. Not in a bad way, just, I can't imagine leaving home without a clear plan on when I'd be back. Of course, knowing it won't be more than a month helps, I guess."
"Yeah."
"And really, a part of me has dreamed of living a sort of nomadic existence since I was very young, so I definitely see the romance in it."
"Totally agree. Hey, I'm hungry. How about we get ready and I'll buy ya breakfast?" He seemed evasive, but she was hungry, too, so she let it go.
"Sounds great!"
They got up and showered together, keeping the sexy time to a minimum given the current time constraints they'd now placed upon themselves. If they didn't hurry, they'd never get out of Cracker Barrell in time to get him to the base.
He loaded his bag in her cargo space and they headed off to the restaurant, which was hopping with traffic on a Saturday morning, as was expected. But since there were only two of them, they got a table without waiting.
They ordered coffees, and Cokes, not super healthy, but hey, this wasn't a daily occurrence. It was a splurge.
Sy ordered some massive and meaty breakfast spread that sounded like a heart attack waiting to happen, while Shane kept it simple with biscuits and gravy and a side of fruit…also, she stole a strip of Sy's bacon. Again…she was a weak woman.
The conversation was light and friendly and lovey…until the time came to leave. Sy picked up the check and took it to the counter to pay and then led her out the double doors back to her vehicle.
"You'll be able to FaceTime me on evenings you haven't gone walkabout in the wilderness, right?"
"I'm not sure they call it that outside of Australia, or even the Crocodile Dundee movies, but yeah, we'll plan on that, for sure."
"Good. I'll miss you so much. But at least I have a pretty good idea of when you'll be back." she was spouting excitedly, but he was being rather cagey again. He piped up with three words that never start off a good sentence.
"Yeah, about that…" she looked at him as they closed the doors to her Explorer, waiting for him to continue…hoping for good news, but expecting bad.
"I got an email last night…late…that I…that the training…might take longer than they told me at first." he winced for the impact of her reception of the anticipated bad news.
"Longer…uh-huh. How much longer?" she asked, backing out of her parking space.
"Ya know if you back into these spaces you don't have to worry about--"
"Really? This is the moment you want to man-splain the concepts of parking to me, Sy? I'll save you the trouble. My dad couldn't get me to do it, and I don't see you having any success, either. Now, how much longer?"
"I don't…they didn't give a concrete--"
"Give me your best guess based on what you know. Give me a range. A ballpark, if you will."
"Uhh…two or three more…weeks…than planned." he winced as she drove toward Fort Leonard Wood Army Base from the peaceful breakfast joint. It was rather poetic, really, since the conversation had turned from relaxed to militant. And they were driving from civilian territory into a land of combatants. Not a war zone, but a zone of warriors, perhaps. And she was ready for battle, herself.
"Sy. That's more than six weeks."
"I know." he said, his eyes downcast in some combination of shame, fear, and sadness.
"And you're…fine with it?" she prodded, prompting him to consider her.
"Of course I don't like it. I'm gonna hate being away from my sunshine for even a week. But this is…it's about who I am. Who I'm meant to be from now on. I have to find my way from here, Shane."
"I guess my only question is…where do I fit into this…path. This life you're making for yourself? We're brand new. But we've worked really hard already to get where we are. And I've worked really hard to get to where I am, professionally. In my dream job. No, the circumstances aren't ideal, but the work makes me think, and gives me purpose. What am I suppose to do? Either I give that up, or I give up…the only man I've ever been with who's made me actually happy."
"I don't want that. I don't want to lose you, and I don't want you to give anything up for me, darlin.' That'll just lead to you resentin' me down the road, and I don't want that, neither." He stopped a moment and just looked at her, face holding back frustrated and angry tears…but also very sad ones. "What about this? Let's just, talk about all this moving forward stuff when I'm back from training. At that point, I'll know more about what to expect about jobs and assignments. And…if it would make you feel more comfortable…we can call ourselves…unexclusive. That way, if you meet someone while I'm gone--"
"Have you lost your mind?" She interrupted his ridiculous attempt to be selfless. She was secure enough in his feelings for her that he wasn't making the suggestion for himself.
"I'm serious. If you meet someone, and he sweeps you off your feet, don't resist. I want you to be happy, Shane."
"Then come back and teach gym at the local high school. Better yet, don't go, at all."
"You remember all that stuff you said about having your dream job and a purpose?" Shane nodded. "You want me to find all that too, don'tcha?"
"No. I'm a selfish bitch who wants you here with me no matter the cost. And I don't care if you resent me in the long run. At least I'll have you." she laughed at her sarcasm and only slightly true self-deprecation.
"You'll be fine. You managed so far without me." he reminded her as she pulled up to the gate, guarded by about four men, who's rank she couldn't tell, but one of whom Sy called a sergeant.
"I'll get out here and they'll take me to the hangar in a cart. No civilian vehicles allowed today. Apparently they're doing maneuvers." he shrugged and got out to grab his bag.
"I put the rest of the takeout in here too. It's in one of my nice coolers on ice."
"Thanks." she told her shoes as they stood under the shade of her rear access hatch. She couldn't look at him right now. He made her, though.
"This ain't quite like the airport, but I still don't have a lot of time, sunshine." he kissed her hard, and it really felt like a goodbye, which almost hurt more than his leaving. Almost. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and she knew she'd feel that embrace all evening. She hoped it would last for weeks.
"I love you, Sy." she sobbed to him. Trying like hell to keep it together.
"I love you, darlin.' Now don't you forget that when some other handsome fella gives you the eye. Make sure he's worth it, if you're gonna write me a dear john letter." he winked at her. She laughed and nodded, but didn't feel it was that funny, and didn't intend to adhere to his parameters of their relationship. He ducked under the arm that was preventing her from driving through. Although, legs as long as his, he almost could have stepped over it. She watched him walk away for as long as she could before she was given the signal that she must leave and let other traffic through…although, she resented this. There were two lanes, after all. Couldn't these men see what a mess she was? She'd just had to say goodbye to the love of her life…and she didn't know when…or indeed, if…she'd see him again. She had hope…but that didn't stop her from crying all the way home and the rest of the afternoon as the ghost of Sy's parting hug faded from her skin.
Up Next: Chapter 13: SNAFU
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kindlespice · 3 years
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late ass replies but this time i have so much stuff to reply to that i actually need to split things up into categories :))))
also i apologize if any of this is no longer relevant / i am of absolutely no help :)))
otherwise, if you’ve asked a reshade related question...uh... sometime between christmas and now LMAO then it’s probably here!
nonny :
Hello Mikayla, I hope you're having a lovely year so far. I just wanted to ask this about the dove preshade (1st question here) kindlespice/tumblr/com/post/632163463099269120/ft-reshade-questions-a-theme-question-nonny i'm having the same problem, i have a new computer and after installing the game and it's last 3 updates and then the reshade it's not looking the same and it sucks bc i know how it's supposed to look (1)
the shadows are not as noticeable, the transparency between the walls is not there and the blur is gone (i have miiko´s ghibli's cloud override but i had that on my old computer and the reshade still looked normal) idk if it's the game or the reshade but it sucks bc i love how the original looks like anyways it would be really helpfull if you could answer. Take care and stay safe :))!!! (2/2)
hi hi! thanks for the kind message and i hope your year is going well! if I had to take a guess, I would say that maybe some of your settings in-game have changed? I would double check and make sure you’ve got edge smoothing off, and you could try turning off post-processing as well (im not ACTUALLY sure if turning off post processing does anything but it’s worth a shot!) otherwise i would try removing the preset and redownloading it? maybe the settings of the preset got jacked up and you can fix it by re-installing. let me know if this helps! if not, then you can always dm me so i can see pics of your situation!
nonny:
Hi! Sorry if this is worded odd but I just downloaded your Leif reshade and have completed all the steps, however there is still this blur over the screen which isn't the best for game play. If you could help explain how to toggle it for gameplay/cas that would be great :)
hi hi! the blur is the DoF (depth-of-field). it’s used for taking screenshots and is supposed to make the background all blurry. to disable it, you can use the hotkey shift-2 or open the reshade menu and manually untick the DoF option!
nonny:
Hi, i just installed the latest version of the dove preset and my game is dark. It is the MXAO that is doing it but i don't have the preprocessor definitions box. How do i fix it?
hello! im assuming you have a 4.0 version of reshade if you can’t find the box. in this version, it’s a blue tab called “Edit Global Preprocessor Definitions” beneath all the toggleable effects. if you have an earlier version, it should be under the “settings” tab at the top though.
nonny:
Hello!! Thank you so much for your work! I have a really quick question - so I am trying to work with the reshade and got it all set but when I play around with it, my objects don’t look “rounded”. If that makes sense. Other people who use it, their objects look rounded and smooth and just different (I have an image for reference) but mine just looks like the normal objects just different colors. Is there something I’m missing or doing something wrong? I have all the settings correct. :)
hi hi! hmm, im not really sure what that could be... probably something to do with mxao bc it’s always something to do with mxao lol. I would double check to make sure you have this line in your preprocessor definitions: RESHADE_DEPTH_INPUT_IS_REVERSED = 0 this line should equal 0 for the mxao to work properly. that might give you the “rounded” look. if this doesn’t fix it for you then you should go ahead and dm me so i can see what the game looks like!
nonny:
Hey, I tried your Dove preset but my game just can't handle it, it's pretty old and I just have to uninstall the reshade (even though I really loved the effect) but I'm scared to do anything in the Game folder or delete anything. Could you please help me with what to remove? I'm scared to break my game if I delete something that souldn't be deleted :( I tried searching for this in your WCIF and reshade questions and couldn't find an answear. Please help
hello! sorry to hear that your game can’t handle the preset :( here’s to hoping you can get an upgrade in the future! anyhow, to uninstall; i believe you only need to remove 
ReShade - config settings (it’ll have a little paper w/ gear next to it)
d3d9.dll - application extension  (it’ll have a little paper w/ gears ON it)
d3d9 - text document (little paper w/ lines icon)
reshade-shaders - folder
your reshade presets - config settings (if you remove the files above first though, you won’t be able to use/see these in-game)
that should uninstall reshade from your game! and don’t worry, if you accidentally remove something you didn’t want to, you can “verify your game files” through origin and that should restore any missing files. unless you.. *ahem*... acquired your game through other means... in which case be careful XD
@maddybarbz
Omg I don't know if you are active or not but I'm having some problems. So I downloaded the 3.0.8 and it was going smoothly but I loaded the game it said that magic bloom had issues.
i don’t know if im active either. probably not tbh XD but im here now so here ya go! i would recommend deleting the shaders you’re having problems with and then putting back the 3.0.8 shaders you downloaded. it’s really easy for things to break / be incompatible during the install so your best bet is always to delete the ones giving you trouble and put the new ones in.
@kaiamikulka
hi! I’ve been jealously stalking your page for a while, because I’m in love with the dove preset, but I’m very confused about how to download it. My computer keeps marking it as a virus, so i was kinda scared to download it. and when i finally did, it didn’t show up in my game. could you walk me through how to download it?(i have a pc laptop)
Thank you so much,
Kaia☺️☺️❤️❤️❤️
hi hi! lol im flattered for the jealousy stalk! anyway im not sure why it wouldn’t be showing up in game? unless you were so excited that you forgot to install reshade with it? i have a video here explaining how to install a recent version of reshade and set up dove with it so you can check that out here !
@bojanastarcevic​
Hello, I've been trying to fix the dove reshade for a long time, but the new version just doesn't support it, and the old version spoils the game and sometimes it won't even start ... Would you consider trying to make the same preset version for the latest reshade version? I'll be very grateful because your preset is the most beautiful I have ever seen?! 😘😂Don't know if you still play of work on your game but like I said if you have time to try make new one couse everyone was looking for it!!! 😉😘😘😘
hi hi! i totally understand not using the earlier versions--these later ones are soo much more user friendly!--but i’ve been able to get the preset to work with later versions (4.7.0 is the latest i’ve tried though) and it looks, if not the same, then very close to the original. I have a video here explaining how i did it if you’re really eager to have it
in the future i guess i could try to re-release the preset? i can’t give you an eta bc im lazy and i fall off the face of the earth regularly, but i do think it would help to have updated instructions right on the face of the download. 
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shnuggletea · 3 years
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This is my attempt at EdWin pairing from Full Metal Alchemist. It’s for @kalsies​ bday and since you like EdWin and FMA I thought I’d switch it up for you. I also realize that you don’t really know me but I’m a fan of your work! And I hate it when I miss a bday; we all deserve some love especially on our bday!
I’m going to post this on Tumblr only for now to see how it goes. Idk if this is any good and I kinda rushed it but here goes. 
I do not own Full Metal or the art used in the cover above (came from here) I just own the story!
Happy Birthday Kalsies the Derp!
I also made a playlist but it is also a WIP! You can listen to it here!
The Coffee House
It wasn’t like I was looking for the place or planned to ever go inside. I blame the damn wind. It blew my hair free of its tie and damn if it didn’t want to quit! So I had to duck in somewhere and I’m not a coffee drinker. As soon as I stepped in out of the wind I was nearly pushed back out by the smell of the place. 
I never had a problem with the smell of coffee really. It has a decent scent to it. But I knew that the scent was misleading and that the taste was far from the enticing smell. So much so I had distrust in coffee and everything to do with it.
Especially the baristas that slung it at you with a false smile.
And this place had all the bells and whistles of your usual coffee house. Tables and ‘comfortable’ chairs. Dark lighting and soft music. Everything you needed to get people to stay and drink more. The only difference was, this place had huge pieces of twisted metal sticking out of the walls and hanging from the ceiling. Probably considered ‘art’ but I wasn’t buying it. I did find the piece that was half an engine from an old tank stuck to the wall interesting. 
There weren’t a lot of people inside so maybe this place made even shitter coffee? It made getting my hair back in its place a hell of a lot easier, slipping off to the bathroom for a mirror. That turned out to be an added blessing because I hadn’t noticed the smudge of oil on my face. Undoubtedly from work cause not even Al would tell me it was there. They would laugh while I walked the streets unknowing.
A few more bodies were in the place once I returned. It made the place loud and I hated loud. “You have to buy something!”
Turning to the shrill voice, I expected a doughty old maid. Instead, it was just a girl. She was pretty... I guess. If you’re into tall blondes. With her hair pulled back to the top of her head and the dirty apron covering her front, it was hard to say anything else about her other than tall and blonde. And irritated since she was still glaring at me for some reason.
“Huh?”
“Are you dumb? You used our bathroom; I saw you. Only customers are allowed to use it so either buy something or I’m going to punch you in the dick.”
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I laughed because it was ridiculous. But that only pissed the blonde off more as she started to jump over the counter to get to me. “Okay, okay I’ll buy something. Jeez!”
She stepped back and stopped all attempts to get at me… with violence. Now she had arms crossed over her chest (couldn’t tell how big her chest was still) and went back to glaring at me. “Well? Order something!”
“Look, I just needed to fix my hair…”
She snorted. “Your hair? Seriously?!”
I growled back at the woman. “Yeah, my hair! Like you have room to talk!”
“I do since my hair is actually cute.”
“Who the hell do you…”
“Are you gonna order today or next week?”
I took a glance around. It wasn’t like I was holding up the line or anything. “I don’t even like coffee…”
“You’ll like my coffee,” the strange and annoying girl said, stepping back to a large and intimidating machine, “my coffee is the best in town.”
“Hasn’t this place only been open a week?”
“Two!” She shouted with pride and pulled down a lever. It was like an old fashioned slot machine that was ready to explode. Cause as soon as she pulled down the lever the whole thing shook and twanged like it would get up and breakdance. “It’ll just be a minute.”
The wall behind me became mine as I leaned against it. The girl didn’t talk her eyes off me so I didn’t take mine off her. She was… strange. Pushy and arrogant and rude. Her eyes eventually got to be too much and I didn’t like how she was studying my body. Not that it would help but I crossed my arms over my chest. Which most people took the hint when someone did that but not this girl.
“Who did your Automail?” The packs of coffee beans that held my attention for a second could have been set on fire and it wouldn’t have changed the glare I was giving this nosy woman. “Doesn’t look like they did a very good job. I can see it hitching at your shoulder.”
The hell she could. I had on an undershirt, long sleeve henley, and my red leather jacket. Add in my gloves and there was no way. “I haven’t been in for a tune-up in a while, that’s all.”
 She couldn’t see shit, she was guessing or something. Messing with me. “How did you lose your arm?”
“That’s none of your business,” I shouted as fiercely as possible. She nodded as if I told her I didn’t want sugar though. “You know, I didn’t even use your damn bathroom. I shouldn’t have to…”
“So what are you? Street cleaner?” The woman was unphased by my angry stupor. “You have some dirt here.” She pointed to her left temple and I wiped at mine. “You do look familiar, have we met before?”
She was leaning on the counter between us, scrutinizing and sizing me up even more. The only part of her skin that was visible (other than her face) was her hands and they were covered in little bandaids. I was marveling at how tiny her fingers were and a snarky response slipped past my filter. “Maybe I cleaned your street before.”
Then she giggled. I swear there was a twinkle in her eyes, I didn’t imagine that. And adorable, mischievous, god damn annoying twinkle that made me want to burn the place down. Even more so when she stood back up and twisted a small golden tendril around one of her tiny fingers. “How do you like your coffee?”
“What is it with you and personal questions?!” She held up a small cup, innocently and I felt flames lick the skin on my cheeks. But she said nothing about it, staring at me with doe eyes that would have reminded me of a lake on a calm day but they were far from calm. More like the ocean before a hurricane. “I don’t like coffee at all so…”
“Right, cream and sugar then.” She moved away from me and I moved towards the counter. “How tall are you?”
She was crouched inside a small fridge pulling out bottles but looking up at me. Her golden hair almost touched the floor and yet she still had all her attention on me. “What’s it to you, Blondie?”
I struck a nerve with that one, finally. She slammed the fridge shut and handed the coffee to me so hard I nearly got burned. “It’s Winry.”
If she hated the name then why did she have blonde hair? It was nothing to change the color of your hair these days. She flicked a few loose locks behind her ear and showed that it was full of metal. Studs and hoops went from her lobe up to the corner of her cartilage. A lot of girls had their ears pierced but not quite like that and it made me curious if the other looked the same.
“Are you always this nosy, Winry?” 
If she was offended, she didn’t show it; shrugging and looking at her bandaged hands. “Just thought I’d ask.”
“Oh, you asked. About everything that has nothing to do with you.”
Saying nothing else, she held out her hand and after a minute, I pressed a few credits into her outstretched palm. She took them and then plastered on a smile. “Come back soon and tell all your friends!”
“Tell them what? Come here and get pushed into buying?”
Her smile faded, but it was fake to begin with. “Well, just tell them the bathroom is for customers only then!”
The woman (Winry) was done with me so I left. The wind blew my hair out of my tie again but I was already at the shop by then. 
“That was the longest lunch break you’ve ever taken, Edward!” Louis yelled from somewhere in the back and although out of sight, I still glared in his direction. 
“Shuddaup you Bald bastard and mind your business!”
The bald man with the fabulous mustache just chuckled and it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in irritation. Slamming the door behind me I walked over to where Al sat, looking up at me as I approached. “You got coffee?”
I had actually forgotten, still holding the cup in my hand. “Sorta.”
He took it from me and I let him. “Shouldn’t drink coffee. It’ll stunt your growth.”
I ignored his smirk. “I freaking hate coffee and you know it. I only got that cause I was forced.”
Al chuckled while I still simmered from the barista Winry. “When has anyone ever forced you into anything, brother?”
I smirked back at him but not because of his teasing. He tried to duck but it was too late, rubbing my knuckles into the top of his skull hard and making his dark blond hair fly all around. “Get anything done while I was gone?”
He shoved me away as hard as he could with his free hand. “We got a lot done for once!! Must be you holding us back!!”
Chuckling, I let him off easy and took off my jacket to hang up. Looking back at Al I caught him sipping on the coffee. “Hey! What about stunting your growth?!”
Al wore a sad smile but at least it no longer reached his eyes. “That’s not really a problem for me, is it?”
I had nothing to say to that, watching as he rolled himself away in his ancient wheelchair. I couldn’t even afford to get him a nice one; like the kind that roll where you want them to with a single thought. But that wasn’t what was important. What was important was getting the funds for Al’s body. 
It was why I worked at this shop, rolling up my sleeves to get back to work. There were a few projects still waiting for my touches so I had to hurry up. I needed to get to work and get it done for tonight. I’d already wasted too much time dealing with crazy coffee house girls. 
oOo
It was a warm night but I still wore my red leather jacket. It protected my skin and it had my symbol on the back. I never intended for that symbol to mean anything, I just thought it looked cool. But now I almost have to wear it so people know who I am and what to expect. 
That symbol was why (when I rolled up to the line) others either stepped out or changed their bets. 
My bike wasn’t anything special but I knew how to take care of it. Unlike the others here who spent thousands of credits to fix up or buy new bikes; mine was old and cheap. Before I made a name for myself, it was what gave me the advantage. Everyone knew how I raced now so there was little point. The only reason I came here night after night was for the money cause the thrill had left long ago.
I had my hair tucked up inside my helmet so it didn’t get knocked like crazy; not to hide even as my helmet hid my face. Anyone that saw me on the street would know it was me thanks to my jacket. But not everyone here wanted to be known. It wouldn’t be a surprise if an Under was mixed in the crowd. My jacket made me known but also gave me deniability on the streets in daylight. 
It was this reason that I wasn’t surprised when a stranger pulled up next to me on their bike and had a blacked-out helmet. Mine was blacked out as well but that was more out of preference than fear. It had been years since a new person showed up to race here; so I busied myself sizing them up. Their bike was nice, a newer model than mine. And an actual brand; a Tomoaki. It was a decent ride but I wasn’t worried. 
The new guy refused to look anywhere but the track ahead. They were clearly a Newb, it was showing in their laser focus as well as the small shake in their arms as they waited for the ‘gun’. It had me chuckling in my helmet and fogging up the glass. 
It was me, Newb, and three other guys ready and waiting for this race. Two of them were from the Homunculus gang so they would be trouble. As they were every time they lost. The other guy I knew pretty well; Roy on his trademark Mustang bike was hard to miss. That meant Risa was somewhere in the crowd. He was a good guy and a decent racer. But I was better.
This was going to be another easy win; easy money.
Olivier stood before us, taking her place with the flag to start. She was how I learned about this place; her brother complaining about the illegal activities his dear sister was involved in. Not sure what he’s so worried about; there are far worse things to be into as far as illegal activities go. Far more lucrative too but I was pushing it with Al doing this much.
The tall and buxom blonde lifted her arms for our full attention. A few idiots in the crowd with death wishes whistled at Olivier. She was a beautiful woman but if you ever told her that she would break your face. Olivier started the races for one reason only; to be a distraction and throw a few of us off guard. I looked at the Newb next to me to see if it worked. The rest of us were used to it by now. Newb didn’t look shaken in the slightest but he still shook. 
Olivier dropped the flag and it was time to stop dicking around, hitting my accelerator and jumping ahead of the rest instantly. There was no one ahead of me; the track was mine. Our location switched every week and you had to be in the know to find it. You also had to use the GPS to stay on the assigned track. Mine was beeping that there was a hard left turn ahead. This was one of the reasons I was unbeatable. Without skin on it to worry about losing to the pavement, I was able to dip lower on left turns and take them faster than the rest. 
It was right turns that slowed me down and this track had two right at the end. Even so, I still have the lead and little to fear. 
This was it. Alone on the track, going as fast as I pleased. The only thing missing was the wind in my hair and on my skin. This was where I felt peace; felt free. Winning was no longer a thrill for me. I only enjoyed this moment now; being my own boss and in control of everything. My speed, my movements, and my life. It was easy to forget the troubles I faced daily while I raced away into the night.
Nearing the end of the track, I leaned into the first right turn. Of course, I slowed and dipped a little less than before. This was my real leg, the only one I had left. It was expected. What wasn’t expected was the other racer that passed me in the middle of it. 
It was the new guy, flying by dangerously on the turn. I had been cocky and stupid, getting lost in the freedom instead of actually racing. Now they had the lead. If it was a straight away or another left turn, I could have taken the lead back. But it was neither of those and even as I dipped lower and went faster than I was comfortable with, they still had the lead. 
The Newb was going to win.
There was a strange pressure that I felt in my chest. I hadn’t felt it in a while. It was… excitement. 
I pushed my machine to its limits to gain a few seconds on the Newb’s lead but the race was pretty much over. We crossed the line with a two-second difference and the crowd was a mix of shock, awe, and anger. Just like the first time I raced and won. 
A lot of people just lost a lot of money.
The Newb stopped and I pulled up right next to them. “Follow me, NOW!”
They shook their head at me. “Why? I want my money.”
Their voice was garbled by an electronic voice changer. It wasn’t weird; a bit uncommon but again there was always the possibility of Unders in the crowd and with this person a Newb it was a good thing they were protecting their identity.
“I’ll get your money tomorrow and give it to you later. You need to get out of here!”
Newb glanced behind us at the crowd and I looked as well; even knowing what I would see. The crowd was restless, shouting, and pushing. There were more races to be had (the night was still young) but it was clearly over as the others were already fighting. 
“Great. How am I supposed to come back with that?” The Newb asked.
“It’ll be fine, they’ll get over it. But those guys,” I said, pointing to the two Homunculus members that had raced and lost to the Newb, “they will come and tear you apart if we don’t get out of here now.”
There were no more questions after that and as much as I wanted to help the guy out, I couldn’t force him. So I was glad the guy shut up and followed closely. The Homunculus followed for a while but it wasn’t too hard to lose them. We came to a stop miles from the track. A few quiet shops sat to one side while an empty park on the other. Without a word or sign, we both made for the park and killed our engines; turning our bikes into chairs with our kickstands out.
“That was too easy.” The Newb spat. “I thought they wanted to tear me to pieces?”
Even with the voice changer, I could tell they were mocking me. Resting on my bike, I pulled my helmet off so I could get more air. “Yeah, well they probably figured that they’ll get you next week. You should consider taking a little break for a while.”
They huffed, the automated voice struggling with the sound and came out like singing. “You just don’t want to lose again.”
My Automail was stiff from the ride. As were both my shoulders. So I stretched my hands high above my head and then rolled my shoulders around. “Nah, you got lucky this time. It won’t happen again.”
Newb was silent and I enjoyed the quiet while it lasted. “Why did you help me?”
His question was soft but in the silence, it was easy to hear. “Why not? I used to be right where you are now. New and talented. The Homunculi are a bunch of jealous assholes who don’t care about rules as long as they win.”
“What about you? Is winning that important to you?”
I looked at the dark window of their helmet, trying to see through it even with it impossible. My mouth still pulled into a smirk. “Of course it’s important. You get more money if you win. But only if I do it by my own merits.”
“So it’s the money you really care about?”
I shrugged, looking at my gloves and fixing the loose hold they had on my hands. “I need it. Everyone there does. It’s how this all works, right?”
“I’m in it for the racing, not the money.”
I grimaced hard back at the guy, thankful I took my helmet off so they could see the fire in my eyes. “Then you should be going pro, not slumming it with the rest of us.”
This Newb really needed to learn when to shut the fuck up; still talking away but I was no longer listening. I cut him off with the roar of my engine. He was a stranger; he had no clue who I was or the life I’d lived. My past was as much a mystery as his was to me. Only I no longer cared to know his past or present. His judgment could eat shit; I took off and left the fucker there.
He could find his own way home.
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