#(since she got the majority of first color decisions anyway)

[crystalpallette]

little red riding hood but there's no hood and the big bad wolf is a cat and I don't think there's anything to ride in the forest and ringo could be littler so really it's just. red.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not buying a silver car?

I (27F) had bought a used car a few years ago. I've been using it since then, I put a lot of cash on maintenance, but it reached a point where it can't be fixed anymore because the parts aren't available for purchase and also I refuse to use all my savings on it anymore. I decided to buy a new car finally. I prepared the cash and picked a car I liked that wasn't too expensive. I ordered the blue color because it's my favorite. I waited for the dealer to call me back for a whole month, and I decided to check on them because the procedure should only take a week?

Anyway, after I called them, it turns out the blue car will need to be shipped from abroad, which takes a very long time thanks to the pandemic. I was given other options that would be faster, black, white and silver. I was reluctant, I like silver and I have nothing against it.... but I'm hyperfixated on blue and have been all my life. I'm severely attached to it. It wouldn't be an exaggeration if I said I'd get depressed if I get any other color. I'm Autistic but I have no idea if it's related. Plus is my passion, I'm annoying about it and know that.

However, since I needed the car urgently, I finally gave in and asked them to get me the silver one. I have only seen it pictures but I imagined it would be nice. I guess.

I told my parents about my decision, my mom told me to give it a little more time to think. She wasn't sure if getting the silver car would be a good choice for me, she imagined I'd be unhappy with that car that I'd sell quickly to get a blue one. I told of course I wouldn't sell a car just because of its color, but then again, that's sound like something I might do because I'm that obsessed with the color.

I called the dealer the next day and told them about changing my mind, I decided to wait for the blue can whenever it arrives.

Searched for the alternative places that sell this car, but I couldn't find a blue one that wasn't used. I learned my lesson from my buying my first car and refuse to buy another used one.

Anyway, since my car stopped, I've been borrowing my father's car. He has three car, the one I borrowed is new, the other two are used. He has no problem lending me his cars every now and then, however, since my car is taking forever to arrive, my father hasn't got to use his favorite car in months. He wants it, but doesn't say anything because he knows I need it. Public transportation is nonexistent where I live, and taxi is insanely expensive. Even though my father wants his car back, he wouldn't want me to use the taxi. I considered borrowing his used cars instead but they're both difficult to drive. One is too heavy for me, and the other is not good enough to handle a long drive, and my work is a one hour long drive. That's why my only option is my father's new car.

I also have been having concentration issues lately, I'm going to therapy and working on it, but it caused two car accidents. Nothing major, nobody was hurt, but my father's car was scratched. He's angry about it, but he didn't demand his car back because I don't have any other alternatives.

This problem would be easily solved if I got the silver car, but I desperately want to wait for the blue one and I have no idea how long it will take. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[henrysglock]

did you ever think about how actors can’t do it the exact same every time? every version you see will be slightly different. if they flub a line, say it in a different tone of voice. maybe somehow, the specific way they acted it when you saw it somehow gave you the impression that patty is a raging evil rapist and brenner respects henry’s boundaries, but when everyone else saw it, it wasn’t that way. also, if you saw it earlier on that’s another factor. they need time to hone what they want to project and how they want to color it, and to lock in their lines. i saw it twice quite a bit of time apart, and there were definite differences in lines that maybe was a directors choice or actors choice. seeing it earlier on means there’s more room for error meaning the way you saw it might not be the way it was intended. anyways, it seems like the majority of people don’t see what you see

maybe somehow, the specific way they acted it when you saw it somehow gave you the impression that patty is a raging evil rapist and brenner respects henry’s boundaries, but when everyone else saw it, it wasn’t that way. ... seeing it earlier on means there’s more room for error meaning the way you saw it might not be the way it was intended.

Okay, well, first off...this is about entire, show-spanning patterns of behavior and dialogue. This isn't acting or directing, it's writing. So either they completely overhauled at least the entire rehearsal scene and the entire gurney scene, or you're grasping at straws.

Additionally, I saw TFS four times back in December 2023. The plot progression was consistent. The dialogue was consistent. My friend Stav has seen it a bunch of times since then, and she hasn't noted any major changes to plot or dialogue. Again, you're grasping at straws.

...the majority of people don’t see what you see.

The majority of people don't think about TFS any deeper than "damn, poor henry got screwed over. that sucks. anyway, tell me more about j0pper!!1!". They certainly don't write 50k words laying out the entire plot and outlining patterns of behavior, dialogue, design, and connections to filmed canon with collages of subtitled screencaps (stagecaps?) to boot.

You and your buddies take such big issue with me talking about the ways Patty oversteps Henry's boundaries...but you don't seem to have issues with anything else I've said about the play. It's just her. You're big mad that they didn't give you the fairytale h3ntty romance you expected, and now you're bargaining with me to try and find new ways to deny the truth of the matter: Patty makes multiple bad decisions.

...the impression that patty is a raging evil rapist and brenner respects henry’s boundaries...

Here, since you missed it the first time:

"Nothing Patty does is outrightly malicious. Weird, yes. Red flags about consent, compassion, and empathy, absolutely. We can’t, however, condemn her as evil for it. It all still very much fits under the category of teenage thoughtlessness. There doesn’t seem to be any predatory ulterior motive. ... At the moment (though it is subject to change), I do not believe Patty is evil, or that she’s even really aware of the implications of her behavior most of the time. ... I think she genuinely believes she’s doing the right thing, though she seems to assume that what’s best for herself (like taking Henry out of the lab to go find her mother) is also what’s best for Henry—regardless of whether her assessment is accurate or not. I believe she’s caught up in something much larger than herself."

That's from Chapter 9, section 3.

"[Patty's] doing many villainous things with ambiguous-to-good leaning intentions. Patty appear to be, by definition, a protagonist and an anti-villain. ... Brenner appears to be doing the right thing; he's just doing so with [questionable methods]. This defines Brenner as both an antagonist and an anti-hero. Which is to say: Brenner is an anti-hero in the same way Jason Carver is an anti-hero. Jason did a fair amount of harm due to his lack of accurate information (not unlike Jopper re: Victor's conviction in The First Shadow), but he was also trying to solve the problem."

That's from Chapter 10, section 1.

Where did I say Patty's evil? Where did I say Brenner respects all of Henry's boundaries and did no harm?

I've said, recently, that Brenner does a better job of respecting Henry's boundaries, but I did not say he respects all of them. Brenner does a better job because he never does anything sexual with Henry. Brenner doesn't grab Henry and kiss him. Hence, Brenner is doing a better job of respecting Henry's boundaries than Patty is. Plain and simple.

Here. I have another example of a similar case:

In MDZS, Wei Wuxian has Wen Qing perform a golden core transfer from himself to his brother, Jiang Cheng, so that JC can lead a normal life (at WWX's expense). He doesn't get Jiang Cheng's consent for this procedure. In fact, he lies about it to get Jiang Cheng to go along with it, because he knows he wouldn't agree otherwise. That is a breach of consent. It's a non-consensual medical procedure. It's overstepping a boundary. It's generous, it's altruistic, it's done from a place of love...but it's not consensual. It's not something Jiang Cheng would necessarily have wanted, had he been asked. This breach of trust ^^ later destroys JC emotionally when the truth is revealed.

Does that make Wei Wuxian evil, overall? Does it make him a bad person? No. It makes him a person who made a bad decision out of love and desperation without considering the consequences.

Return to Patty. A kiss without consent is sexual assault, but it doesn't necessarily make Patty evil. It means she made a bad decision. She displays a pattern of tone-deaf, non-empathetic behavior, but it does not necessarily make her malicious. I was very clear about that in my full analysis.

So please. Spare me the bullshit.

[thewayshedreamed]

Congrats on the 800 followers bby you deserve it! I have a good one for you. I slipped and fell in the shower and the only person who can help me is my enemy for nessian 👀👀👀

Well, Sim, it was you who BLEW my word count. I should have seen it coming, I guess 👀

Although, I will say you didn't do it alone. I also combined @maastrash 's prompt "Are you hurt? What happened?" and one from anon, "You're cute when you're all worried."

They all went together so well that I couldn't resist. And as a result, you got this 3k+ beast. RIP 800-word limit.

Anyway, I hope you like it, my love! Enjoy!

--

Nesta wasn't sure why she had agreed to go to the beach with Feyre, Rhysand, and his brothers. Gwyn had come through in her time of need and agreed to join them, but she'd quickly flipped her allegiances to spend more time on the beach with the others instead of retreating back to the house with Nesta. She had a suspicion it had something to do with a certain tall, dark, and broody man who hoarded his smiles from the public eye.

Unless the public eye belonged to Gwyneth Berdara.

After the long trek to their rented beach house, Nesta stopped at the edge of the dock to knock the sand from her shoes. There was a small shower outside the backdoor to rinse the saltwater and stubborn sand from her body, and Nesta hissed against the stark cold that rained down on her legs. A proper shower was the only thing that was going to combat the chill in her blood, and that realization was enough to solidify her decision to stay inside the rest of the afternoon with a romance novel.

Her towel was full of sand, so she hanged it over the porch railing and headed directly to the bathroom. It was best if she peeled her bikini off in the shower to avoid scattering any lingering sand all over her bedroom, so she moved swiftly into the small bathroom and cranked the water nearly to the warmest setting. The firm grip of her arms around her body did very little to combat the goosebumps on her skin, and she let out a near moan at the feel of the hot water.

She closed the shower door behind her and stood beneath the spray properly to rinse her hair. Her bikini made a loud slopping sound against the tile in the corner. Dealing with it was a task for someone with any motivation beyond warmth and cleanliness.

Nesta lathered her hair and combed a generous amount of conditioner through her strands to help with the detangling process. The wind had created a monster, adding another notch against the beach in her book.

While her conditioner did the Cauldron's work, she grabbed a wash cloth and body wash. As she moved back beneath the spray, her foot slipped over the suds near the drain, but Nesta righted herself with a firm hand against the tile wall. The excessive amount of conditioner wasn't helping matters.

She rinsed her hair and body all at once to get to her lounge clothes as soon as possible. Stepping out of the spray to hang her washcloth on the nearby rack to dry was near torture now that she was properly warmed, and Nesta wasted no time in stepping back into the water for one last hit before shutting it off.

That was her intention, anyway. What happened instead is that her traitorous feet were no match for the slick tile, and the backward steps were all it took to send her careening to the floor. She slapped at the wall to no avail, finding no ally in reach. What she did find was insult to injury when various toiletry bottles rained down on top of her.

She had stupidly tried to brace her fall with her other hand, sending a spark of pain from her palm to her shoulder. Her groan echoed off the walls and the shower showed no mercy as the water rained onto her chest, all over her face.

A booming voice made her eyes snap open, only to snap them shut against the sting of the water.

"Nes?"

Her delay had been too long. The bathroom door burst open, and through the frosted glass, she saw Cassian's imposing form assessing the situation.

"Nesta? Are you hurt? What happened?"

This could not be happening. Of all the fuckers to be in the house at one of her lowest points, it had to be Cassian. Gwyn would be hearing about this.

"Go away."

She cringed against how dejected she sounded. Turning her head and shielding her eyes with her uninjured arm, she found that he did no such thing.

"Cassian," she warned. "Get the fuck out of here. Now."

He propped a hip on the bathroom counter. Arrogant bastard. At least, from what she could tell, his chin was turned up toward the ceiling rather than his gaze being fixed on the frosted glass.

"Something tells me things aren't going well if you've yet to peel yourself off the floor."

Nesta rolled her eyes and turned her face toward the water once more. Maybe she could drown.

"Let me help."

"I thought I was pretty clear. I'm not accepting help from you."

A deep sigh sounded in the bathroom, but before she could snap, his rough voice followed.

"Fine. Don't accept my help. Rhys came with me to grab snacks for the others. I'll have him switch with me."

"No," she roared, cringing against the command in her voice and her lack of options.

Every time she tried to sit up, pain tore through various parts of her body. Her ass, the hip that had taken most of the impact, her shoulder. She needed help, and while she hated the idea of accepting it from Cassian, she would rot in hell before Rhysand helped her out of the shower. How had she found herself in a situation where her only chance at help was the man who spent the majority of his life being as big of a pain in her ass as possible?

His voice sounded again, but it carried away from her. "Rhys, head back without me." His brother's voice came next, but Nesta couldn't hear him over the patter of water in the shower. "Nah, I'm good. Just taking a break from the sun. I'll catch up."

With that, he shut the bathroom door behind him. At least Cassian had the good sense to lie to Rhys rather than recruit any additional attention to her compromising position.

"Alright, Sweetheart. I've got a towel ready. I'm going to open up and shut the water off."

Nesta's breath hitched at the rush of cool air, at the form that cast her in shadow almost entirely. She pulled her legs up and shielded her chest with her good arm, earning a throaty chuckle from her savior.

"I'm not looking. I'd rather when a woman wants me to see them naked."

Why her need to launch jabs at him overpowered her pain was lost on her. "Must have been a while, then."

"Saw a good set out on the beach, actually. She was feeling pretty generous after watching me and Az play volleyball, I guess."

Nesta scowled. That tingling sensation down her spine didn't feel secondary to her injuries at hearing the story.

"You're a pig," she grumbled, but she let Cassian drape the towel over her front and ease her into a sitting position.

"It felt rude not to look."

Her huff of a laugh was genuine. Damn him. He moved to wrap the towel tightly around her shoulders.

"Think you can stand up?"

Nesta grimaced against the soreness in her hip. "Yeah. In a couple of minutes."

Without a word, Cassian hoisted her into his arms with measured gentleness. Her cheek rested against his shoulder since she didn't have her arms free to prop her up, but she barely had the energy anyway.

He maneuvered them out of the tight bathroom and down the hall to her room, easing her onto the edge of her bed. She opened her mouth to say thanks, but he had already spurred into action.

"What did you want to wear?"

"I'll get it."

He shot her a glare. "Fine. I'll pick."

Nesta growled her frustration, but Cassian only ticked his eyebrows upward in challenge. She hadn't realized initially that he wore only his swim trunks, half of his black hair pulled back and out of his face. The sun added color to his already bronze skin and left a soft blush on his cheeks that accented his hazel eyes. And she, to the contrary, was a lump beneath a massive towel. One that had managed to injure herself during a simple shower, evidenced by the soaked strands of hair plastered to her face and shoulders.

"There's a large night shirt in my suitcase and some sleep shorts."

Cassian grabbed them before turning toward her, a hand gripping the back of his neck. "Anything... underneath?"

Nesta allowed a sardonic laugh. "Underwear are for people with the use of both their arms."

He cleared his throat and left the clothes next to her on the bed. With a final instruction to call for him if she needed anything, he was gone.

She assessed the clothing and picked the shirt up first. One of her arms was through a sleeve in no time, but the second one was another story entirely. With a defeated whimper she gave up, dropping her arms into her lap with a hiss.

"Cassian!"

No response. Maybe he didn't hear her; the house was rather large. Her voice was louder the second time.

"Cassian!"

A muffled thud sounded, followed by a quick, "Coming!"

He appeared at the threshold of her door, dripping with water and suds. A large towel was wrapped around his waist, his grip white-knuckled to keep it in place.

"Everything alright? Where's the fire?"

Nesta blinked at him. "You said to call you if I needed anything," she pointed out, running her eyes over his state in accusation.

Cassian let out a long, suffering sigh. "I meant it, but you said you had this part covered. I take a 3-minute shower, tops."

"Well, I don't have it covered."

There was more bite to her voice than she'd intended, but self-pity and shame were settling into her bones. She hugged the nightshirt tighter against her body to serve as some form of armor, but it wasn't nearly enough.

Cassian's shoulders sagged, but she barely noticed in favor of watching beads of water travel down his torso, over his strong calves, and make a small puddle on the floor below. "I'm sorry. I was full of sweat and sand. I thought you'd be more likely to take help if I was clean."

Something in her chest softened at his forethought, even more so since he was right.

"Go finish your shower," she relented, settling her hips deeper into the mattress. "I can wait until you're done. I just— I need some help with my clothes."

He was on the balls of his feet, ready to haul himself straight to the shower. The water beneath his feet made her breath hitch. The words left her before she could think better of them.

"Careful! Don't rush." He blinked as if seeing her for the first time, but his usual cocky grin eventually stretched across lips. "I can't help you if you fall, too. And I'm not keeping you company on the ground until the rest of them come back."

Cassian's smile grew. He offered her a wink before he replied, "You're cute when you're all worried."

Her eyes narrowed to slits. "Go."

He hurried off on balanced feet, whether that was on Nesta's orders or a natural grace, she wasn't sure. While she waited, she opted to set them up as best as possible to make the process quick and painless. Well, minimally painful, considering there was a layer of awkwardness that was going nowhere fast. That was without counting the actual physical pain she would no doubt endure.

With a pathetic swatting motion, she knocked her sleep shorts to the floor and began shuffling them around with her feet. She'd managed to slip one into the proper leg hole before she heard Cassian's rich laugh from the doorway.

"Stubborn woman," he mused, seemingly allowing a sliver of affection to slip through. Nesta knew better.

She scowled, turning her chin up to make sure he knew how unwelcome his teasing was. He laughed harder and dropped to his knees in front of her, adjusting the tee he’d pulled over his head on his way into the room.

"What do you want to put on first? You're half-committed to both."

"Let's go with the shirt. It's long enough to cover me while we work on the shorts." Cassian nodded, reaching toward the crumpled article of clothing in her lap. Nesta jerked back to establish some expectations before moving forward. "You're about to see me naked."

"Yeah, probably," he sighed, as if it was a burden to him, too. "I won't look more than necessary though."

"Okay, good. And this doesn't change anything, so don't start acting weird around me. We take this to the grave, too. We'll never hear the end of it otherwise."

Cassian bit the inside of his cheek, pursing his lips in a failed attempt to hide his amusement. "You have my word."

He gently peeled the shirt from her grasp, sliding each sleeve beyond the crooks of her elbows before pulling the opening over her head. Nesta hissed at the pinch of pain through her shoulder but bit her tongue.

"I know. I'm sorry." He pulled the fabric down her sides and over her back. The backs of his knuckles dragged across her soft skin, and she barely contained her shiver.

Clearing his throat, he looked to the floor where her shorts were still tangled around her feet. He got to work on straightening them and allowed her to slip her other foot into the proper place. He didn't dare look up at her through his next request.

"Think you could put your weight on the leg that's not as sore?"

Nesta swallowed and said, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Use my shoulders to brace your weight, too.”

Her hands trembled as she reached for him. He was solid beneath her, the muscles in his shoulders unyielding under her grip. She had to resist flexing her fingers more firmly in a test of their resilience.

Cassian eased her shorts upward, the roughness of his knuckles tracing the same blazing path as they had over her back. His gaze was fixed resolutely on the floor, yet he managed to release them at the proper moment. The soft pop of the elastic snapped her out of whatever trance she was under, but the echo remained in the feel of his warm hands easing her hips back down to the mattress.

"Maybe we should have someone take a look at you; make sure you're okay." His brows came together when he realized she was already shaking her head in refusal.

"I'll rest a bit, and I'll be fine. I may be sore tomorrow, but I'm good."

Without a word, Cassian braced one of his legs outward and scooped Nesta into his arms. It grated her nerves how easily he'd lifted them both into a standing position.

"What are you doing? You can't make me go to the doctor."

Cassian leaned back and shook his head, trying to get his rogue hair out of his face. "I'm not manhandling you to the doctor, Nes. Settle down." His bottom lip jutted out to try and blow the strands away while he walked. "I'm taking you to the couch and getting you ice."

Oh. Well, that hadn't been what she expected. The gesture was enough to have her mindlessly raise a hand to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. His eyes snapped to hers, his steps slowing to a stop in front of the couch. Their faces were close enough that she could run her nose along his if she wanted to, but she definitely didn't. Not even at the feel of his firm chest heaving against her.

They stayed that way, transfixed by the contact that was somehow more intimate than when he had draped clothes over her naked body. Their breathing settled into a rhythm together, and Nesta couldn't resist tracing the path of his sharp jaw. His slight stubble scraped against the pads of her fingers, all the way to his chin, where she grazed over his skin with her thumb. She snatched her hand away like he'd burned her.

Cassian's throat bobbed, and his fingers flexed against her ribs. His other hand did the same against her thigh, except his thumb traced a soft, idle path back and forth along the sensitive skin at the back. He made no moves to put her down.

Nesta knew she would regret the loss of his warmth immediately, but the line they flirted was thin. Not to mention, it was irresponsible to succumb to such a base urge considering, any other time, they would be poised to rip each others' heads off.

The shrieks of children at the neighboring beach house snapped their attention to something beyond the bubble they'd created for themselves. Cassian eased her to the couch and positioned pillows around her to keep as much pressure off of her aching joints as possible. He threw a blanket over her legs before heading to the nearby kitchen for ice.

Nesta watched his retreat with shameless appreciation. How had she never stopped to look at him through her current lens? Doing so may have been enough to make her more agreeable in nature. The thought made worry sink in her gut with what had transpired moments before, and she craved the oddly familiar banter they'd engaged in since he showed up to the scene of her demise.

"So," she called, eyes fixed on the intricately patterned throw pillow beneath her injured arm, "how much did you see?"

His voice was closer than she'd expected, but she managed not to startle. "Uh— I mean. I saw some things."

Nesta fixed her glare on him, and he gave her a sideways smile while he placed the ice strategically over her shoulder. She hissed against the cold, earning a look of apology.

"What things?"

He let out along breath. "A bit of everything, really. Not on purpose. " A slight blush turned the tips of his ears pink, but Nesta didn't comment on it. "Mostly, you know—" He gestured back and forth between his pecs. "—everything else was more... indirect, I guess."

Nesta groaned, allowing her forehead to fall to her good hand, cradling it in her palm. Cassian moved to the nearby armchair and took a sip of his bottled water.

"Don't be embarrassed, Sweetheart," he soothed, albeit mockingly. "They're not the worst ones I've seen today."

—

They had watched a movie in loaded silence until the others trudged up to the house near sunset. Nesta gave the cliff notes of how she'd wound up injured on the couch, making no mention of Cassian's help. The last thing they needed was an onslaught of questions from their nosy friends.

"I thought you were coming back out there. What happened to you?"

Cassian's brows drew together at Rhys' question. "Well, I saw Nesta laid up on the couch and offered to watch a movie with her. I lost track of time."

Rhysand eyed him skeptically, but no one questioned it. Cassian redirected everyone's attention to the matter of what they would cook as a group that night, but he was sure to give Nesta strict orders to stay planted on the couch. Overbearing prick.

With so many hands on deck, dinner was ready quickly. They all settled around the table, and Gwyn had made it a point to cushion Nesta's chair with pillows before letting her sit down. Her best friend must have sensed the verbal lashing that awaited her in the privacy of their shared room that night.

Laughter filled the space while they told stories from the day's events. Apparently, Azriel had rescued Gwyn from a feared creature of the deep while taking a dip in the water. He had hardly been able to stop laughing himself to tears long enough to complete the epic tale of how he defeated the bundle of seaweed that had threatened Gwyn's life so mercilessly. The latter hadn't found it quite so amusing, but Az offered her a broad smile in apology.

Nesta wasn't sure she had ever seen one quite so wide on his face, and holy gods. If she'd thought him to be beautiful before, she had been sorely mistaken.

As they usually did, Rhysand and Feyre settled close to each other as the other talked. Rhys was busy murmuring things into Feyre's ear that made her cheeks as red as Gwyn's sunburn, which earned a proper warning from Cassian to "stop being gross with his little sister". Nesta agreed with him enough to refrain from reminding him that he was in no way related to Feyre.

"Don't mind him, Darling," Rhys purred. "He's pouting because the only action he'll see during this trip will be self-directed."

Cassian nostrils flared in annoyance, and for whatever reason, Nesta found herself rising to his defense.

"I don't know," she sang, "I hear Cassian saw a pretty good set today."

A chorus of questions broke out, but he only had eyes for Nesta. The gleam in his eyes told her he knew she hadn't been referring to the ones flashed to him and Azriel after the beach volleyball game.

"I did," he agreed, sipping some of the amber liquid in his glass. "Perfect, actually."

The questions continued, and Azriel reluctantly began recounting the tale of he and Cassian's victory flashing. Nesta used her good arm to raise her wine to her lips, mouthing a subtle thank you over the glass for everything he'd done for her. The least she could do was preserve a bit of his dignity.

Cassian lifted his class in mock cheers and said everything he needed to with a single wink.

The pleasure was all mine.

[the-ghost-of-jason-todd]

tim, cass, steph painting each other's nails

Heck yeah! Here we go:

***

“Alright, smart guy, what would you suggest?”

Tim hums, rifling through all seven million of Steph’s nail polish bottles.  He doesn’t know why she has so many when she only uses the purple ones—if he had to guess, he’d say that she probably mentioned painting her nails in front of Bruce and the man went and bought an entire rack of colors for her.  Alas, she does have seven million bottles, and he’s pretty sure he can find something that will work.

Like, uh… this.  Peach Sunrise? 

Yeah.  That.

Sitting up a little more, Tim tosses it over to Cass, along with the dark red (Magala Wine) and a white (Pearl of Wisdom).  She’s already got a make-up sponge ready to make the gradient—she hums, looking at the colors.

“These… are good,” she decides.

Steph huffs.  “I can’t believe you like Tim’s choices better than mine,” she says, but the words are light, teasing.  If Tim didn’t know her as well as he does, he’d never even notice the tinge of desperation that underlies the words.

But he does know her, has known her for years, and he does hear it—loud and clear, in fact.

He sympathizes.  It’s been a difficult week.  Monday hit hard and fast with an alien invasion that struck the eastern seaboard, and life hasn’t let up since.  They’re all bruised, bloodied, exhausted—this is the first chance they’ve had in days to just breathe.

And sleep.  Which is actually what they’re supposed to be doing right now.  But while Jason and Dick and the others were out in seconds, Tim found himself tossing and turning instead of nodding off.  He’d gotten up to find some tea or something and instead found Cass and Steph in the kitchen, squabbling over nail polish colors.  So that’s where he is now—seated between them, his head propped up on one palm, fiddling with the various sparkly bottles.

“I don’t understand how you’re so good at picking colors,” Steph grumps, taking one of Cass’s hands to start applying a clear base coat.

Tim tilts his head toward her, lips quirked up in a half-smile.  “You have no idea how often I get paged for interior design decisions,” he says.  Becoming CEO at Wayne Enterprises has certainly fixed any ideas he previously had that the position was a serious one.  He still looks over the finances and signs off on major decisions, but the number of times he’s been asked when he’s finally going to go golfing, as if that’s a valid use of company time, is a non-zero number.  He blames Brucie. 

Snorting, Steph finishes with Cass’s base coat and turns to do one for Tim.  Her hands aren’t quite steady, fingers chaffed raw from her gloves, but Tim doesn’t mind.  He’s working on fifteen percent capacity at best, here.  He probably can’t do any better. 

That isn’t the point, anyway—the point is that they’re together, helping each other keep the nightmares and the malaise at bay.  It’s a balance, a dance—and as Cass begins to delicately pick through the colors to choose a gradient for Steph, and Steph’s calloused hand holds Tim’s in place, the brush slow and gentle as she paints on the clear base, Tim lets his eyes slip closed.  Not asleep, not quite, but… something close to content.

For now, that’s all that matters.

[masterhandss]

Who do you think katarina will end up with?

Anonymous asked: Who do you ship katarina the most with ?

I got these two questions consecutively, I'm assuming they are coming from the same person so I'll combine them to a single reply, if that's okay.

People who have been following me since the first season can probably tell that I really like Geordo x Katarina (GeoKata) the most out of all ships. At first it was mostly just because I have an unintentional biases towards characters with blonde hair, which is why favorites were GeoKata and MariaKata, but then when I slowly got into the series more, my biases permanently shifted to the G-boy.

I'm not really a fan of laying out why I like certain ships through test to be honest. I usually get super frustrated when zine mods ask contributors to explain why they like a character or ship for contributor spotlight graphics because I can never really say everything I feel correctly hgdsjsdgfj, which is a good thing someone had already asked me a similar question before so I'll just copy paste my response here if that's okay :DD

TLDR; I ship Katarina with Geordo (Maria, Sora and Cezar behind him), and I think Katarina will end up with Geordo :))

You didn't really ask why but I'll give it anyways :)) -> major light novel spoilers, by the way <-

I'm not really the most deep person, if a ship has the bare minimum of something that I like (a trope or a hair color combination) then I stan it hard. That's why I used to be so equally adoring to both Maria and Geordo, because hurrdurr blonde hair hurrdurr. But the more I read the books and got into the community, I eventually liked him more than Maria. I didn't understand how or why at first, since Geordo and Maria are undergoing a very similar character arc: both characters wants to become better people in order to become worthy of Katarina (Geordo emotionally, and Maria physically? magically? in terms of her position/social status? I can't think of a right word but you get it). Again, Maria and Geordo's struggles are similarly written but one of them is more compelling to me. I feel like Maria's problems are easier to solve (her inability to rely on people, her attention seeking and her desire to be more magically powerful) imo, since she's already a well-liked figure in the Ministry and she's already a high-level magic user. Geordo's though; the series doesn't put too much attention on it, but despite the fact that Katarina gave his life color, he still somewhat sees the world in a desaturated light even post-childhood according to the novels and his lack of empathy still prevents him from completely absorbing all the colors. He's still learning how to see and he is happy that Katarina is always there to help him learn how.

I just love the irony that Katarina sees Geordo as a Perfect Prince and feels that she is inferior and unworthy of him, but then Geordo also seems himself as flawed, inferior and unworthy of Katarina and sees her as someone perfect. Geordo constantly wants to be better for Katarina (and for the people around him), and in time, maybe he could become a motivation for Katarina to be better too (on Katarina's side though, because on Geordo's she doesn't have to because she's already perfect the way she is). Geordo, while being self-centered and aggressive in his pursuits, isn't always selfish and thinks about what Katarina wants too. He'd fight tooth and nail for her and will do whatever he can so that Katarina will love him in the same way, but that doesn't mean he wont respect her decision if she falls in love with someone else, he just wont lose without a fight that's all (and fight, he'll give that's for sure).

Geordo is crazy in love with her; wants to protect her happiness, keep her safe whenever he can, and is even willing to both fight to become king and throw away the life he currently knows if it means he can live a life where he and Katarina can be together wherever she is most content and happy. He wouldn't lock her up in the castle like a caged bird like what Keith and some fans of the series thinks, whenever he does have thoughts like that like in Volume 6, its his internal response to the lack time they can have together alone, rather than being indicative of how he wants to treat her (like in his desire in Book of Desires, he conjured up a literal honeymoon because a honeymoon is the only time where he can spend it with her alone without someone butting in! It's weird and exaggerated, but his desire is simply to just be able to spend a day with her and be able to pursue her romantically without the threat of people like Keith and Mary).

Katarina sees him for himself, and she extends her hand of friendship to him despite all her fears of her bad ends involving him. She knows he's a "sadistic prince" but doesn't always tie him to that title. Out of everyone, Katarina has just as bad, if not worse, initial impression of Geordo compared to almost everyone around him (Others sees him as a Perfect Prince while she sees him as a Sadistic Prince and Future Murderer), and yet she accepts him and wants to learn more about him. She supports him and wants him to find happiness in love with Maria, even if it means she'll get exiled to another country or to a far off farm! (i'll edit this with citations later)

I can't help but want that for him, someone who there for you through thick and thin, who supports him despite everything she knows about her future involving him. Katarina is everything he would ever want in a partner: someone who isn't disturbed by his past, can see through his fake smiles, constantly cares for him, sees him beyond his princely façade, is one of his first friends who has helped him create friendships with other as well that prevented him to wallow in isolation and hate of the version of himself that society created for him, is genuinely interested in him as a person, is endlessly fun to be around and unpredictable, and is overall beautiful inside and out.

Again, a lot of Maria and Geordo's struggles are very similar to each other, but I'm more interested in Geordo's side. I find it more compelling. Geordo's scenes always almost provides something new, we get to see him angry, flustered & embarrassed, scheming/conniving, possessive, grateful, sad & frustrated and so much more. Maria has that too (we get to see her sad and thankful), but this might be my own perspective of reading the novels, but Maria's scenes kinda feel the same to me. It almost always starts with Katarina helping her and her realizing time and time again how much she loves her and become more motivated to be a better version of herself. I mean its unfair to say that they are all the same but that might just be me. (Maria: wow I'm so grateful for everything Katarina has given me, I want to be with her forever (rinse and repeat for the next 5 books))

Yes I know it's beautiful to see Maria falling deeper and deeper in love with Maria, but I'd rather see moments of someone who is trying to advance on those feelings rather than someone who is still trying to understand what they feel. Declarations and descriptions of love are beautiful in literary works and it always gets my heart fluttering, but I can read fanfics if I want to see that be written in 8 or more ways. Give me some action, some internal conflict!

It also doesn't help that it makes me really really happy for Geordo that he's made a dent in Katarina's baka shield? Katarina's heart skipped and fluttered for a second when Geordo was patting her head, and it makes me want to root for him even more! (Yes, go break the bubble! You can do it!!)

It's not even the same doki-doki as when she gets charmed at how pretty Maria is, to me its different in a way that my small vocabulary can't explain.

And besides, it really is just a battle between the protagonist that almost ruined her life (Maria) and the love interest that almost ruined her life (Geordo). Keith is part of that equation too, but he was never a threat after they became close (narratively, its seriously just Maria vs Geordo vs Keith, ignoring the changes to that narrative by FL2). It's always about Geordo (and Maria), everything she's doing in the Fortune Lover 1 Arc is because of Geordo (and arguably, Maria & Keith too) and the consequences of where he decides her future to would lead to.

It has to be Geordo, in my opinion, to show her that things aren't the same as the game (and he already kinda has, just a dent though) (If not Geordo, it should be Maria). He, who she feared and yet cared for so much

(I know Fortune Lover 2 basically removes that importance of Geordo and Maria specifically to Katarina's narrative by making her an active problem in all routes, finally becoming loyal to the title "All Routes Lead to Doom", but its not like the story is digging into Katarina's brain that she's sword training for the purpose of fighting back against all the boys, its still just Geordo, so idk I still count that in my shipper brain)

It also also helps that Geordo is basically the poor bullied animal in the hamefura community's eyes, regardless of how far he is into the battle (like in the reddit discord lmao). Yeah he has the best chances which is why many people both in and out of the series find it so fun to drag him under because of his unfair advantage, which is fair, but just like how you feel when you see a small wounded animal, you can't help but want to help someone who has the whole world against him (there's literally a canon manga page with that joke lmao), which is how I eventually felt over time. He's so misunderstood and bullied by people despite the authors dedication to flesh him out more beyond being a possessive prince fiancé of Katarina because of the anime's adaption, so I'd rather give my biases to someone who needs (and deserves it) rather than other contenders who are already overflowing with love and support. Also who doesn't love a perfect guy who breaks when his beloved is harm/who opens up to the person he cares about most?

I know people will read this and find it unfair that Katarina is giving so much to Geordo, but he isn't really giving anything to her. One thing I'll agree that Maria has over Geordo is that Maria makes Katarina want to try and work hard. Seeing Maria improve her magic wants Katarina to do the same, and whether or not it's from motivation or fear of getting left out depends on the reader. So far we don't really have anything like that for Katarina with Geordo because most things involving Geordo intimidates her, compared to Maria who is surrounded by mysteries and adventure (though arguably it's Katarina and not her lmao, but Kat doesn't know that).

Katarina is already the most well-adjusted character in the story even as a child so the only thing to really explore from her is mostly just her relationships and skewed sense of reality. That's why I hope that Geordo will not only help her realize that she can be loved by her peers romantically despite her self-perceived position/role, but also be one of the persons to make her completely realize that she isn't living inside a game. I mean like I said a few paragraphs ago, he's already kinda doing it by constantly confessing his feelings to her, reminding her that he is a person with his own feelings and not a character programmed to fall for a heroine.

So yeah, I ship Katarina with Geordo for those reasons and believe they should end up together for those reasons.

If you ask me who I think would she end up with objectively, I'd still say Geordo. The author's focus jumps between Geordo and Maria so that really depends on who you're asking. It also doesn't help that Geordo is always in the marketing with Katarina in the books and games, which pretty much cements his Male Lead status to Katarina's Female Lead status lmao

Thank you for the ask lmao, I'll be updating this with more thoughts and possibly citations later :))

[ijenoyou]

Out of my league.

kun x reader.

summary; he always admired from afar but not this time.

requested. send one!

warnings; none haha i mean it includes mentions of gummy bears lol fluff and humor.

notes; sooooo i’m sorry this took so long to finally post (˃̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣ ) but i was quite busy with school (it’s kicking my ass lol) anyways remember english isn’t my first language sooo ignore the mistakes if you see one lmao

Kun was always the one between all his friends that only admired girls from afar. Of course not in a weird way, he likes to admire the beauty of each one of them and later on forget about it.

But he couldn’t forget about you.

You were a new transferred student who happens to be best friends with his own friend, Lucas.

Kun first saw you at the mini gathering Lucas was doing at his apartment. When he entered his friends home he saw you sitting next to Sicheng, talking about which color of gummy bears tastes better.

“Yellow is the best one.” You said while taking one of the bag you were holding.

“You’re crazy! They taste so bad, red ones are the winner here.” Sicheng defended his posture on the argument making you roll your eyes faking annoyance.

You were about to speak again until Kun interrupted you.

“I think the yellow ones are tasty.” He softly spoke making you and Sicheng turn towards him.

He didn’t know what overcame him to speak out like that. He was always sitting in silence while hearing his friends talk, but not this time.

When he didn’t get any answer he started to regret his decision until you smiled.

“See? He knows about good taste.” You pushed your friend with your shoulders and stood up from your sitting position. “I’m Y/N.”

Kun made sure his hands weren’t sweaty before taking yours in between his.

“Kun.”

Sicheng watched the whole scene with a weird expression on his face, he turned his head towards Lucas who was busy playing tetris on his phone, he pinched his arm to get his attention.

“Ow! What was that for?” Lucas answered and started to rub his arm, trying to calm the burning he felt from Sicheng’s fingers.

“Look at them.” He whispered and nodded towards you and his quiet friend.

“What about them?”

“What about them?! Kun never talks to girls out of the blue and Y/N never smiles to boys like she just did with him.”

After saying that, Lucas’s eyes widened. He snapped his head upwards and searched for the both of you. He found you next to Kun at the kitchen counter, making a drink that included those disgusting yellow gummy bears you liked so much.

“Oh god.” He whispered to Sicheng. “I’ve never seen her like that.”

“I know!” Sicheng answered with excitement.

He knew you way before Lucas, you and him were neighbors since baby’s and stayed friends all this time. So he definitely knows how you react around other guys.

You always tried to be polite but never gave them a single smile or stuff like that. You only did that with Sicheng and Lucas since they were practically your only friends alongside your roommate. They always joked about how you hate men and that the day you smile at one for real that will be because he’s the love of your life.

“I didn’t know Kun has a girlfriend.” Xiaojun said making Lucas and Sicheng flinch.

“Yeah, they look cute.” Ten answered and placed his hand on Xiaojun’s back.

“How did you guys get in?” Lucas questioned with surprise.

Ten pointed towards the other couch in the room, Hendery was playing red hands with Yangyang.

“Yang opened the door for us.” Ten said while taking one green gummy bear out of Sicheng’s bag.

“But how did they got in? They weren’t here before!”

Before anyone could say anything a strong laugh could be heard in the whole place. The six boys turned their heads and saw you and Kun laughing loudly at something he was showing you on his phone.

“Okay! Why don’t we play a game while waiting for our food?” Lucas asked everyone, grabbing your and Kun’s attention.

And that’s how you ended up almost choking Ten for hiding his uno cards by sitting on top of them so he could win. Two hours went by and it was time for you to leave.

“Damn i’m so full.” Hendery spoke while trying to keep his eyes open. “I’m getting food coma.”

You patted his head. “Good luck with that.”

You stretched your arms and decided to start putting your shoes on.

“Well, it’s was nice but I have to go back to my place, Wendy needs help with a project.”

You said goodbye to everyone and before you could say anything to Kun he decided to speak first.

“I’ll walk you.” A blush spread on your cheeks and the boys didn’t fail to notice it but said nothing about it.

“Don’t worry Kun.” You smiled and placed the hood of your hoodie on your head. “I live a few flats from here but if you one day want to come by just let me know.”

“Sure.” Kun tried to suppress a smile and nodded.

“Okay then, I’ll see you tomorrow guys!” That was the last thing you said before leaving.

The whole place was silent. Until Kun turned and saw all of his friends holding each other trying not to scream.

“What?” He asked.

“You like her!”

“She likes you!”

“I’m going to cry, our Kunnie finally spread his wings out.”

He couldn’t understand a single thing his friends said and decided to ignore them.

————

You first day at your new collage was great so far. You didn’t see any of the boys at all since all of them were majoring in different things. Expect for Kun.

“I didn’t know you were into law.” He spoke behind you.

You turned surprise and smiled.

“Hello there.”

He sat next to you, putting his backpack on the floor and took out his laptop with the rest of his materials for the class.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your major?” You asked while pressing the ‘on’ button of your laptop.

“You never asked.” Kun playfully answered and you softly punched him on the shoulder.

After that, the class started. Two long hours and Kun couldn’t be more surprised by you.

Since you were new, the teacher had his target on you. He asked a lot of question to you to see if you were capable of answering, which you did gaining a good response from the teacher.

Kun knew you were smart. At the reunion everytime you spoke you did it with such a smart input, like you had all of the right words.

“We have free class right now, so... vending machine?” He asked and you nodded.

Weeks went by like that. You and him spending most of the time together.

You study with him, eat with him, laugh with him.

The boys were surprised that at this point you and him haven’t kissed at least.

“Not even a tiny peck?” Ten pinched his fingers together while asking.

Kun shook his head and the boys groaned.

“I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.” He softly said and started to play with his fingers, a nervous habit he developed with the years. “And we don’t know if she even likes me like that!”

Sicheng gasped.

“Are you dumb?”

“Not even close, why?”

“There’s no time for jokes!” Sicheng’s dramatic voice appeared. “trust me with this dude, she likes you.”

Kun sighed and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles.

“Y/N is way out of my league.”

————

“How come your roommate is never here?”

“Uh, Wendy usually sleeps at his boyfriends.” You answered while searching a show to watch on netflix.

You decided to lay your head on his shoulder and he decided to place his on top of yours. You decided on watching Twilight again and he groaned making you poke fun at him.

“Again? We’ve watch this like a million times!” He expressed his annoyance.

“And? It’s good so shut it.”

The movie began, it was making him sleepy. He could tell you the whole scrip even in his sleep. That’s so many times you’ve made him watch it with you.

“Are you tired?” You asked and took your head off his shoulder to look at him.

“Yeah, I was busy so I forgot about the essay Ms. Kang gave us, I finished it up in one night.”

His ‘busy’ meant going with you to this art exposition about candy in which they were selling a giant gummy bear, he got you the yellow one and he couldn’t forget they way your face lit up with happiness when he gave it to you after a few days.

“Why don’t you sleep here? You can have my bed and I’ll sleep in Wendy’s”

He nodded at your proposal and sighed. Too tired to even say anything. He was about to continue watching the movie but he couldn’t keep his eyes off your lips. Shinning bright because of the grenade chapstick he gifted you the other day.

The conversation he had with the boys kept on replaying on his mind.

Fuck it.

He pressed his lips against yours. You let out a tiny gasp in surprise but soon after decided to relax.

You tilted your head to the side so you could return his kiss while placing your hand on his cheek. It was a quick kiss but the softness and love was there, and it made you feel for the very first time, full of love.

“I’m in love with you.” He said in a whisper.

You caressed his skin with your fingers, admiring his features under the artificial light that came from the TV.

“I—“

You couldn’t think straight. Too in love with the idea of love. So instead of saying anything, you took him by the back of his neck and drew him close to you, reconnecting your lips with his.

“Be mine.”

————

The boys couldn’t believe their eyes.

“W-What? W-When?” Lucas stuttered.

“Wow, he finally made a move.” Hendery said while sipping on his coca-cola.

A few tables away from them, you and Kun were eating a small cake, feeding each other and sharing sweet kisses.

“Woo! Go Y/N! Go Kun!” Ten shouted to make them feel embarrassed.

You tried to hide your face in your boyfriend’s chest and stuck out your hand with direction towards Ten, folding your fingers except for the middle one.

Kun laughed at this antics and pressed a peck on the crown of your head.

He also was in love with the idea of love.

[matchamorphosis]

𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐙 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒

・゜ʚɞ ゜・ 𝑎.𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ʚɞ 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑦 ・゜ʚɞ ゜・

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || you’ve been testing ari’s patience and it’s up to him to put you straight— even if it’s going to be your first real punishment.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || smut with plot

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || daddy!ari levinson × little![black//woc]fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 5.7K — oof i’m sorry

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 18+ nsfw, ddlg lifestyle and dynamics, daddy kink, extremely bratty reader, big mean daddy!ari, punishment, cursing, spankings, pussy slapping, some steamy scenes, spilt apple juice, a ruined Care Bear’s coloring page, use of nickname: muffin//muffin cake — MINORS DNI || 18+ INTERACTION ONLY —

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || my head was spiraling out of control and I felt bratty + missed my daddy!ari nonnie so I wrote this :): planning on making much more ddlg scenarios like these because they always seem like such a hit and i have so much fun writing them! anyways I hope you cherubs enjoy this! ♡  

↬ p.s || do not repost or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or plagiarize my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡  

it all started with a simple question.

the simplest of simple questions you know the right answer to. neverminded the fact that the supreme authority in the house, Ari Levinson, would still call you a big dumb baby if you’d answer correctly.

today was not the best day for you to endure one of your aggressively bratty tantrums he says you’re to old to commit — just as well as it wasn’t the best day for you to exclaim your snappy clever remarks he insisted you’re to little to speak of and understand.

you’re either his big girl or his little girl and no in-between’s.

today ignited something in you, lit a measly match that trailed a kerosene path he didn’t dare think fast enough to put out critically. Ari was too slow to realize the build up and now he’s facing the burning fire that’s practically charring the good nature that was usually your morally-correct actions and behavior.

today you just didn’t feel like being good.

simple as that.  

however no matter what you did you wouldn’t win, not on daddy’s watch.

glossy black Mary Janes kick the air in a fiery frenzy, folded arms shielding your face as you sob into the pink fluffy play rug. it’s laying underneath your arts and crafts table and of course your thrashing petite body that’s spiraling in the tantrum.

muffled curses and melodramatic wails fill the pink playroom and the cause of this brat fit was the man at the opposite end of the table. no more than a foot away from you, thick muscled arms crossed over his navy blue polo chest. tapping his foot against the floor impatiently, waiting for your tantrum to end he holds the plastic package of goldfish grahams he took from you.

it wasn’t a good decision to ease your previous brattiness with the brownie baked cookies. of course he couldn’t help but give into your sweet tooth if that meant for you to calm down. although Ari didn’t expect you to finish all the sugary goldfish in your snack bowl in the ten minutes you were out of supervision.

additionally, he didn’t see it coming at all when he left you at that to sip from your juice box and snack on the chocolate goldfish while you colored perfectly in between the bolded lines. all so he could finish some paperwork but not until finding you ten minutes after with the whole package at the account of checking in on you.

the sight of your hand in the bag greedily grabbing the graham goldfishes and shoving them into your mouth was a damn sight to see. even when he secretly hid it in the highest and secret, kept out of eyesight corner of the pantry closet— you somehow retrieved it and smuggled it back in your playroom.

the confiscated, nearly-empty package is now in his fisted grasp. Ari cannot believe the shade of anger and disappointment breaking unknown levels of his calming limits.

words cannot describe the irritation inflaming his mind, you’re suppose to be his good little girl.

his precious little starlet who behaved and acted accordingly but instead he has a brat screaming ass up and face down into the play rug. crying her bug head off because he took your spoiling sugary snack from you that he shouldn’t have given in the first place.

rolling his eyes at the scene in front of him, his blue hues lock on your baby lotion thighs that your tiny purple argyll mini skirt reveals. cotton thigh highs adorned with purple bows at the frilly cuffs that match the small silk ones braided into your hair he helped design, capture his eye.

ever since this morning your attitude has been off and not only did it confuse Ari but it confused you to at first. until you slowly grew into liking the devious part that was hidden inside you for so long that maliciously appeared when you woke up on the naughty side of the bed.

from Ari getting you out of bed, giving you your routine bath, arranging your outfit and getting your hair ready. as well as eating breakfast, you pouted and grumbled the whole time but Ari was still so soft and patient with you. it made your heart gooey but you were craving his mean side.

so after you two got ready and started your separate chores and hobbies for the day, you were slowly working your way to anticipating Ari get mean with you. just like your magic always worked wonders, he did get mean. scolded at you when you were in the middle of reading your book, raising his voice just a slight at you that you did all your chores wrong and haven’t even completed some.

it was scary just for minute that he even had a hint of anger in his voice but damn did you enjoy the wetness in your panties at the same time when he ordered you to do them fully and correctly. until finally what he believed would be the end to your brattiness, nap time arrived.

thankful for it as he started lunch, thinking that when you’d wake up he would recognize his well mannered princess but what he didn’t expect would happen afterwards as he woke you up that you were more crankier than before. 

the two of you had your lunch of toasty grilled cheese, thick tomato soup and chicken salad. you were still moody and cranky when you sat down in your pastel chair with the wooden pink painted words of princess displayed on the crest rail.

of course he looked at you as if a mountain troll was stealing his princesses throne because he didn’t recognize the pout pulling at your full glossy lips. the scrunched brows making a dramatic impression that married well with your anger inflicted face that spoiled your pretty facial features.

as much as your daddy thought you looked adorable being cranky, every little thing seemed to tick you off. you had a problem with everything that could either easily be fixed or was out of your hands.

the grilled cheese wasn’t cut in the shapes that you wanted, he placed the cheesy slices in your wrong disney princess plate, you didn’t want to eat your greeny nasty salad, you wanted another cup of sprite. which you were neglected of because ari had a limit set for you from not drinking anything more than the amount your tiny hello kitty cup provided.

and most importantly you wanted to have Lulubelle, your tangerine teddy bear, to eat at the table.

of course he fixed his first two mistakes but you knew better than to argue against and ask for anything that went against the rules. instead of putting you to a corner, he set up another option.

encouraged you to eat your greens to set a good example for your stuffies. replaced the second cup of sprite you wanted with a juice box of your choice and placed Lulubelle on one of the living room couches telling you she will wait for you to finish eating and washing your hands.

but even with those resolutions there were major bumps and outbursts.

you played with your food by smacking your spoon against the soups surface which caused little splatters of red dots across the glossy cherry oak table and grumbled under your breath as you picked off the crust of the grilled sandwich.

flicking it with the swiftness of your two inch acrylics, the pieces landing in Ari’s soup or hair.

it was as if you were set on getting on his nerves because damn right you were.

rolled your eyes and silently mimicked his mouth when he ordered you to stop. deviously giggled when the funny vein on his forehead that only bulged out when he was really mad at you was potentially going to pop out. 

a smirk playing your lips when the corner of your eye caught every clench of his fist when you would hit the table leg obnoxiously as you slurped your soup. misbehaved yet did what he ordered you to when you believed his attention was back on his own food.

it was a very long lunch and as much as he thought he was going to snap at you and put you in your time out chair that was rarely used because you never ever acted like this, he left you to wash up as he cleaned up after lunch.

you would normally help him with cleaning the table or giving him any dirty dishes for him to clean when he was busy at the faucet. but he allowed you to run off into the living room and play with your stuffed bear in whatever todays make belief adventure the two of you were on.

cleaning up was easy since he only had to clean the bowls, plates and utensils the two of you ate with but it wasn’t until he started to clean the table did he notice all the soup drops against the cleaning plastic as well as the chunky pieces of lettuce, tomato, and bread crusts under the table around your chair. 

Ari was close to exploding, because he taught you better then to throw food and waste it but he gave himself a breath, counted to ten and made sure to make a mental note tonight. after your special cartoon marathon, he’d have a very important talk to you about food waste and how wrong it was.

so after cleaning up and warning the two of you were going to have a talk tonight, he settled you in your playroom since it was a room away from his office. Ari never felt comfortable or secure with leaving you all alone downstairs without someone watching over you. 

adjusting and nestling the baby monitor on one of your teddy bears heart strap, he placed the stuffed bear near your arts and crafts table. even if you were glaring at him for doing so, you weren’t a baby. although as usual, your daddy shushed at you and placed a kiss at your temple that made you silent as you pulled out your coloring books from your big wooden weaved basket with a grumble.

Ari knew you despised the baby monitor but he made it a priority to place it near you at all times when he wasn’t near. even if the meeting was only going to be around fifteen minutes, your daddy wasn’t going to narrow down the possibilities of something going wrong. 

after settling your desired snacks when you remind him that it’s snack time, Ari settled your juice box that he already pierced the straw through the tin foiled hole and your brownie goldfish in your hello kitty snack bowl halfway. checked his watch knowing he had to attend the virtual meeting in less than a few minutes.

kneeling down at your level as you munched on the fish shaped cookies and colored in a fluffy cloud a Care Bear was sleeping on. pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your temple, “Daddy is going to be working in his office princess. can you behave like a good girl until daddy’s done with his meeting?”

the smile that was on your face disappeared, you didn’t want daddy to go and leave you alone!

I mean what was more important than sitting and watching you color? have you feed him the chocolatey goldfish and draw pretty sparkly hearts and shooting stars for him?

“Daddy I don’t want you to go! can the work wait?” you whine but Ari shook his head with a sigh, standing up to your dismay. peering down at you as you glare up at him.

“no the work can’t wait, muffin. it’ll only be twenty minutes and after Daddy does the work he’ll be back here. helping you color a page from your coloring book, how does that sound?” the soft lowness of his voice didn’t leave room for you to bite back an aggression but only nod.

“yes Daddy I would really like that.” Ari smiled to himself at that, thinking that your brattiness has finally come to an end as he left your room.

oh how wrong he was when he arrived back once the meeting was over.

Ari literally caught you with your hand in the cookie jar and you didn’t even look ashamed at all. not stuttering trying to explain your faultless contribution to this crime-like action.

to add onto the shock, when he snatched the bag just full of five goldfishes and crumbs did you start to cry and spiral into you tantrum even when he said nothing yet.

now we are here five minutes later.

with Ari looking down at your still continuing tantrum but noticing it’s lessening with your kicks and whines.

the only thing he feels is disappointment.

not only were you ruining your chances of watching the annual cartoon marathon the cable TV’s going to premiere later on tonight— that he allowed you to stay up to after relentless begs and your good behavior from previous weeks before — but you completely spoiled your appetite for dinner.

your favorite meal he made specially to go along with the cartoon marathon but now watching your tantrum become even more relentless Ari is confirming that you most definitely will not participate in it. maybe even cut your day short once you complete your night routine after dinner and make you head straight to bed.

“are you done being a brat now?” Ari, you’re soft daddy bear snapped viciously.

however you’re still letting out whines and sniffs as you reveal your red teary eyes from the carpet. the sight of them makes him want to drop the bag, kneel down and scoop you in his arms. kiss your face and tell you he’s sorry that he took the cookies away from you, but he can’t.

Ari cannot let this tantrum slide and give you what you want no matter how much it hurts his heart he isn’t trying to calm you down himself in the security and warmth of his arms around his little one.

he needs to put his foot down.

and it serves him right, because once latching your eyes on your mean Daddy’s austere blues you grab your white tiger stuffie nearby. covering your tear stricken face within the faux white fur with a gritted and bratty hmph! 

it was infuriating how your Daddy had to take all the things you wanted away from you. obviously you didn’t have a say in anything cause you were suppose to be his good girl but why continue to act good now when you know you’re Daddy is going to ruin the only thing that you’ve been anticipated since the beginning of December?

today approximately around eight o’clock on the dot the big people channel you were forbidden to watch from was going to premiere all your favorite holiday cartoons. The Powerpuff Girls, Scooby Doo, Charlie Brown, Looney Tunes, and the various vintage episodes of nostalgic Mickey Mouse.

if all went wrong as you went down with your ship you could watch some of the holiday issued tapes of Strawberry Shortcake and Winnie the Pooh on your vcr but it wasn’t as often you would have access to the other cartoon specials you enjoyed premiering their limited episodes at the touch of a remote and Ari knows this!

your big mean Daddy knows how much you’ve been looking forward to it but he’s probably going to instead send you off to your secluded bed in the separate room he sends you to when he was to furious to have you sleep with him in your shared big king bed after dinner. 

belly full of your favorite food that’s going to stir badly in your stomach as you shift under your warm covers restless because it wouldn’t be your goddamn bedtime. only having the single company of your golden fairy nighty nightlight and the only stuffie he’d allow you to cuddle for the night.

it makes you want to explode because you know how this is going to end but you’re head is to tired to even say anything in retaliation or beg him not to reconsider.

but maybe… if you think up something quick to throw him off it’ll buy you enough time to behave and show him you could be good. 

even though you screamed all the naughty no-no words Ari would have you over his lap in a second if you even thought of them. throat sore and red eyes stinging from crying so damn much and rubbing your closed eyelid fiercely against the play rug and stuffie.

a plan is concocting in your mind, nothing devious but it will have its dose of your witty pettiness and unholy brattiness.

daddy won’t suspect a thing, you thought as you stopped your sniffs and cries.

wiped your tears with the cashmere sleeve of your cropped lavender cardigan as you got up from your sprawled position. patted your argyle patterned skirt down to smooth out any wrinkles and got back to work on the arts and crafts table.

and your plan is beginning to work because it does take Ari by surprise when you get up from your pathetic little position. the purple argyle skirt now fully covering your bum, he knows you’re ignoring his stern stare when you scoot your knees back to the small crafts table.

continuing to color from your coloring book as if nothing happened.

Ari scoffs to himself, what kind of mind game were you playing on him?

“what do you think you’re doing muffin?” Ari spoke and for once you stare back at him. eyes slightly red as evidence of your crying, they’re calm now as they meet his.

“nothing Daddy, i’m just coloring,” you spoke, the crayon in your hand shading in a midnight sky. Ari continues to stare down until he takes the crayon from you— but what he doesn’t expect is that when he snatches the crayon from you he accidently knocked over your apple juice box.

the mellow yellowish liquid spills onto your crayon box, containing the limited edition colors you prized. soaking your beloved coloring tools with the sticky juice; it made your bottom lip tremble as you quickly grab the slightly soggy box. you let out a whine as you feel tears spring in your eyes.

the unintentional incident and your heartbroken state almost has Ari yet again stumbling to fix what wasn’t really his fault. leaving the room to get paper towels and a cleaning spray.

coming to terms with this, you’re surprised to find the casualty of your crayons diverting the attention away from you and onto something else.

maybe if you kept this up, eight o’clock would come and he’d have nothing else to do then allow you to have your cartoon marathon.

you thought as you tapped a single finger to your peachy cheek in thought.

all you had to do was put him in situations that would conflict him into think it was initially his fault therefore guilting him into giving you what you wanted!

then you’d be set on the living room rug with a plate of your favorite food on your lap. a stuffie at your hip and looking up at the tv as the credits for the first cartoon of the night rolled in.

quickly finding some Lysol wipes and tissues in the playroom you clean up the mess and the cardboard crayon box as Ari’s loud footsteps come closer and closer.

swiftly disposing them in the craft trash basket and settled in your cushion seat before he arrived in the doorway with his arms full of cleaning supplies. when Ari stepped back into the room he was surprised to find you already cleaned up the mess and properly sitting as you continued coloring.

twirling a braided lock of purple silk bowed hair around your finger. figuratively showing how much you were controlling those dominant Daddy instincts of his he wasn’t going to have you get your way.

you still need to come to terms of all the wrongs you committed today and if all goes well he’d decide if you could attend to that cartoon marathon. “muffin?” Ari spoke and on que your head lifts up, your pearly white smile so tender and innocent as if you weren’t messing with mind to get whatever you wanted.

meaning excuse all the trouble you got yourself into.

“yes Daddy?” voice soft and perky as you settle the crayon on the table, he catches you sitting up straighter. elbows resting on the table and arms pressing close to your chest to pronounce your plump cleavage the top three un-buttoned piece of your cardigan displayed.

the delicious sight has him licking his lips, wanting to throw you over his shoulder with the loud and rough slaps to your ass and take you to your room. throwing you on the bed and rip every little piece of clothing off of you. 

—but that’s what you want him to do, you want to have him distracted from the task at hand. especially when the task is putting you in your place and marginalizing your chances of watching the night special of holiday cartoons.

“what do brats get?” that question has you dropping your eyes from his to stare blankly at the coloring book and lined arrange of crayons in front of you.

did you want to answer him correctly or did you not want to answer at all?

the options where bouncing in your head but you didn’t realize Ari’s still waiting for you to answer when you ignored the question. picking up a crayon and colored in a Care Bear as if he didn’t ask you anything at all.

“muffin are you listening to me?” Ari sighs, tone no longer the softness as a few minutes ago and no longer bearing the same patience as before.

it doesn’t match your inattentive focus, you’re still coloring and teasing him. the sleeve of the tight periwinkle cardigan slipping off your shoulder, showing more of your rich skin that Ari wants to kiss and mark with his lips.

shaking his head out of it, telling himself that he was the adult and you were the brat and he was going to— no matter how much you were going to cry — discipline you into obedience and get his well behaved muffin back.

“i’m going to count to three and if-” he’s cut off when you roll your eyes on him, catching his voice in his mouth like a frog in his throat. Ari’s conflicted entirely and pissed entirely because you’ve never rolled your eyes at him, ever.

so as you persisted to ignore Ari, scribbling one of your multi colored crayons, you have a pink one in your hand. shading in a heart and an idea shines like a lightbulb above his head.

without any warning his large hands snatch the coloring book from under your grasp. the pale purple crayon in your small hand that was once shading in Share Bears fur runs along the whole paper. the sudden climax of running colored wax against moving paper, shocking you to a gasp.

an offended wail excludes from your mouth but Ari is too pissed to feel sympathetic. getting up he holds the coloring book he bought for you during the weekend above his head. somewhat enjoying and taking pleasure as you stand up on your tippy toes and jump to retrieve it with fail. 

indeed taking pleasure as he stares down at your full tits bouncing in your comfortable tube top that’s underneath the cardigan. loving your cries and whines as you beg him to give your coloring book back.

eyeing your tiny delicious figure that's far too small to reach the skyscraper height that holds your beloved Care Bears coloring book. it made Ari’s heart melt when you hugged and pressed your kisses all over his bearded face when he gifted you it some day ago but he never thought he’d enjoy taking it away from you.

right now he has to put you in your place and ignore the tightness in his pants to deal with later. “Daddy you ruined my drawing!” your sobs and whimpers proclaim, continuing to jump as your cries became louder and tears become more present.

“you didn’t answer Daddy’s question little one,” he hissed and with that your cries come to an end to just reveal a glare then a smirk.

quitting your attempts of retrieving the coloring book you turn around and walk away. a slight hypnotic flow of your hips and curves making Ari’s eyes train to the plump assets.

“what was the question again?” you sighed tiredly, encouraging the deadly glare your Daddy has on you.

a yawn overcoming you as you hovered your hand over your mouth that makes Ari scoff. glossy lips still bearing cookie crumbs at the corners you stretched, you lick them off and you bite your lip at him.

mocking him in your divine rebelliousness.

letting out little high pitched noises as you arched your back with your hands twined together above your head. again, to emphasize your cleavage, “would it just go in one ear and out the other or would you actually listen and answer like a good girl?” Ari seethed.

you stand there and register it and of course you were heading off the direction you want but maybe you can turn the tables on him. “i’ll be a good girl Daddy, I promise i’ll listen,” voice soft and assured.

Ari cocks his head to the side at that promise, quirking a brow but not breaking the stare he has on his precious angel that’s playing the devil. he’ll put that promise to the test, walking around the small yet wide arts and crafts table he finally stands in front of you.

making you heart thump louder and louder with each step he takes.

crouching down on his knees to face you at your eye level, Ari sees the devilish twinkle in your starlight eyes. waiting for him to ask the question he knows you can answer correctly.

“what do brats get?”

his stern and mean face that always makes you stutter on your own words and trip over your own feet clashes with yours.

of course you can answer correctly, you can but you can’t believe how fun and thrilling it is with not just your growing ego but the wetness growing in between your legs. soaking your lace panties when your hands lift up to trace his bulging biceps through the short sleeved polo.

“treats?”

you whisper, before your hand goes to grasp the bulge of his trousers that he lets out a pleasured hiss. before you can smirk he’s slapping your hand off his trouser covered cock.

and in a blitz of a second you’re squeaking out a squeal as Ari grabs you by your arm. dragging you to the rocking chair resting near your bookshelves of thick hardcover storybooks and sits in the cushion seat before throwing you over his lap.

whines and cries getting louder when Ari lifts up the tiny argyle skirt to reveal your ass. tummy squirming against his lap he pulls gently at your hair to lift it up.

“keep squirming and i’ll add another five to the twenty you already have,” he hisses but you still can’t believe everything has lead to this.

Daddy never gave you spankings.

never gave you physical punishments before but as much as you were despising the situation you can’t believe how your slicked core is getting wetter with each second that’s passing. with your Daddy’s large hands caressing your ass cheeks and those thick fingertips teasing your pussy’s slit.

“you’re going to count each spank I give you and after each spank I want you to thank me. no whines, no crying just ‘thank you Daddy’. do you understand me?”

Ari’s deep low voice above you rumbling your core like thunder on a dark stormy night. only leaving you to whimper in fear as you nod but were caught off guard when he landed a loud swift slap! to your ass. causing you to gasp in pain.

“yes!” you cried but squirmed when he chuckled down at you. leaving you wandering what you did wrong before he landed another spank to the same cheek. causing you to cry out and feeling the honey of your pussy drench your inner thighs.

“what was that? did you even listen to your Daddy?” he hissed as another rough spank crashed onto your ass, “what do you fuckin say?” he practically roared, leaving more tears to drop down the landscape of your dewy face.

“one! thank you daddy!” you wail pathetically, tears soaking your cheeks, you knew your Daddy is doing what was best for you but you couldn’t help but want to squirm away from his grasp.

catching you doing so he grips your neck in his grasp. “don’t you fuckin run from me now muffin, you acted like a brat so i’m gonna treat you like a fucking brat. we have one down and nineteen to go, don’t disappoint me,” Ari seethed before grasping your panties and pulling them off you.

by pulling off he ripped them at the area that covered your ass, marveling at the wetness of not just the panties but your pussy as well. “my muffin got worked up misbehaving? you get your dumb cunt wet when you disrespect Daddy’s authority?” he murmurs.

stuttering and attempting to answer the words become inaudible once your lips part at the calloused hands of Ari’s. soaked panties in his hold, he shoves them into your mouth. making you taste your own sweetness as he licks his own fingers from your honey and moans at the tangy palette.

“I thought we established no talking, you really are just a stupid little girl,” as much as his words sprung tears in your eyes you couldn’t help but feel your core burn. clenching your thighs together as result he darkly chuckles at the pathetic action.

his hands grip your thighs to forcibly split them apart, “oh muffin cake don’t distract Daddy now,” he darkly chuckles and before you now it a loud and swift slap hits your wet pussy. making you cry out in pain that’s slowly growing into pleasure.

“you’ve done enough of that for today. right now Daddy’s gonna have to punish you,” his hand that’s still at your cunt rubs it.

the slick of your wetness sounding off creating an erotic echo in the room and just like that he’s slapping your small wet pussy with his rough hand again. 

“and no matter how much you cry or squirm or beg me to stop I want you to handle it like the big girl I know you can be. do you understand me?” his growl overcoming your muffled pained whimpers and moans as you feverishly nod your head up and down.

pulling the panties out of your mouth you nod your head, “yes Daddy, I understand,” you whimper after a few hiccups.

you can’t see the smirk plastered on his face but you can see his risen hand in the air from the corner of your dress up hand mirror. angled on the floor to capture the moment, shuddering when it disappears from the mirrors image you feel the rough spank at your cheek.

not as rough and angry as the first three but still enough that it stings tremendously, “two, thank you Daddy,” 

“that’s what I like to hear muffin,” Ari smirks before getting back to work.  

your Daddy continued to give you your deserved spankings, your ass bruised and sore by the time he was finished and was satisfied with each one you counted and thanked him for.

praised you for not squirming even when you wanted to as he covered your ass with the thin material of your skirt.

“you did so well muffin cake. handled and took your punishment like the good girl I knew you could be,” he whispered lovingly in your ear m as he carried you to both your shared bedroom to rub some soothing lotion on your sore bum.

“thank you Daddy. I-i’m so sorry I was so bad today,” you whimpered as chocked hiccups become more unbearable. eyes swelling up with tears and a little sob erupting from your mouth. Ari shushes it by taking your face in his hands and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“it’s okay baby, I promise everything is okay. no matter how bad you act always know, always know that Daddy still loves you. i’ll always love you muffin cake, that’s forever.” those soft blue hues lace with yours and you truly do feel at ease.

nodding your head at his soft supportive assertion, his forehead pressed to yours and your noses rubbing tenderly against each other. making you giggle and he grins as he laughs with you before setting you down on the bed.

Ari rubs the soothing cold lotion against your bum, continuing to shower you with divine praises, sweet appreciations and heart warming adorations that made your peachy cheeks sore from your never-ending smile.

afterwards he gently carries you in his arm downstairs heading to the living room. telling you how you and him were going to fix the coloring page he ruined as snuggle you face into his neck. large bunny stuffie in you locked armed connection he settles you down on the couch.

grabbing the fluffy throw blanket draped on one of the other couches he grabs it and wraps your lower half in it. giggling as he tucks it around your sides to make sure you’re nestled nice and warm, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Ari glances down to his watch with a soft smile, clutching the remote on the coffee table he turns the TV on.

smirking at your confusion when he goes on the channel that’s minutes away from airing the cartoon marathon.

“Daddy what are you doing?” your hushed voice catches his ears, Ari turns his head over his shoulder at you looking up at him with those conflicted doe eyes.

“i’m letting my muffin watch her cartoons. Daddy knows you’ve been waiting a month to watch them and daddy knows his princess deserves it,” his soft smile only but eludes your guiltiness.

“but i’ve been really bad today. b-bad girls don’t get TV time. they don’t get to watch cartoons,” you sob as tears began to fall once more but they’re quickly wiped away at Ari’s warm hands, cooing you into calming down.

“Daddy knows you’ve been bad today, but you proved to Daddy that you were good at handling your punishment. bad girls don’t get TV time, you’re right, but bad girls who take their punishments well and understand what they did wrong get TV time. because they’re no longer bad girls,” he smiles and you smile as well, leaning in for a kiss he accepts.

“there’s only a couple of minutes left before the premiere starts. Daddy’s gonna be in the kitchen starting dinner, if you need anything just call Daddy’s name out okay?” he whispers and you nod your head, shifting attentively on the couch to get into a comfortable position.

smiling to yourself as you pull your bunny plushie closer when the commercials end and the beginning credits to How The Grinch Stole Christmas starts to roll in.

you come to a solid conclusion.

no matter how you get in your bratty fits that your Daddy is going to forever love you. and no matter how stern Daddy is and how angry you are at him, you’re forever going to love him.

and no spanking or ruined drawing is ever going to change that!

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[maneskinrollercoaster]

~ I Loved You For All This Time Apart ~

Pairing: Damiano David x Lea (fictional character)

Word count: 1759

Warnings: Slightly bit of swearing.

Summary: Lea makes a hard decision which has major consequences on her relationship.

The doors opened and she saw him. Damiano was standing in front of her while she walked past the gate from her plane. They haven’t seen each other for a long time. Three years passed since their breakup but they still didn’t stop loving each other.

Damiano was stubborn. When Lea told him that she wants to leave to England, he quickly protested, saying that she’s better living in Italy, in her home country, rather than being all alone in an unknown place without any family or friends.

He always wanted to impress everyone. When he was in the studio with Vic, Thomas and Ethan, everything had to be perfect. He didn’t leave the place without making sure that every sound and lyric were on point. Lea told him that he can’t overwork himself like that but he didn’t listen and stayed in the studio from dusk till dawn working his ass off till he fell asleep on the floor with papers in his tired hands.

Damiano never missed the opportunity to party. Whether it was celebrating their new albums or just a local festival, he never said no to going out with his friends. He drank a lot on the parties which made Lea angry. Once he got so drunk that Lea had to call a Taxi and literally crawl with him on her back to get him home. She was furious that night, which didn’t happen often and threatened him that they will break up if he won’t stop being so irresponsible.

She wasn’t a loud person though. She never got angry and never raised her voice. It was really hard to make her go out of control and she knew that sometimes she was too kind to everyone. Damiano always told her that she should stand up for herself more but she was too generous to see bad in people.

When she got irritated she usually closed herself in the bedroom and meditated to clear her mind. It helped her a lot and she never was the one to argue anyways. She always prefered to calm down and talk. Damiano loved how down to earth Lea was. Whenever they had a worse moment, she held his hands, stroking them gently and said: What’s bothering you, love? Let’s talk about it.

Those little moments felt like big steps until it all crashed.

One day Lea made the most important and the hardest decision. She bought a ticket to London and told Damiano that she’s leaving Italy. He tried to turn it into a joke at first but then he realized that she was serious.

What do you mean you’re leaving Italy? He asked her confused, giving her a look full of fear. He didn’t want to loose her. She was his soulmate and loosing her would mean loosing a part of him.

Baby, I want to travel, chase my dreams. There are so many opportunities waiting for me, I want to go and be happy. Her face lit up and passion in her voice made Damiano frown.

So you’re not happy with me, huh? He said and his eyes turned black. He was angry. How could she ever think of leaving him and moving to UK? Her place was next to him, in Italy.

Dami, it’s not about you. I just..

You just what? You want to leave me here alone and sacrifice everything we have! He screamed and Lea, not aware of his sudden outburst, shivered.

I’m not breaking up with you. But you have to understand, I can’t spend my whole life here, only looking at you succeed. As much as I love you and as much as I’m happy about your carrier, I want to do it for myself, I want to achieve something, be successful. I’m doing this to show myself that I’m worthy. She said and her eyes filled with tears.

Well then, I guess it’s over for us. I can’t do long distance. He said letting down his head.

So you don’t even want to try? You don’t want to put some effort and make our relationship work? Her cheeks were now wet from the tears. She looked at him full of sadness and disappointment.

You just chose.

Alright then, goodbye Damiano.

That’s when they’ve seen each other for the last time.

Since then Lea lived in London. The weather there wasn’t as amazing as in Italy but Lea found herself amazed with british culture. The people there were kind, saying thank you and I’m sorry with every occasion possible. They were helpful too. Whenever Lea entered a bookstore or coffee shop, people seemed to be willing to help with anything you’d ask them for. She felt like she could get friends with everyone there which didn’t make her feel so lonely. After a month of wandering around and gettin to know the country a little more, Lea joined a local designer house and started her career as a fashion designer and consultant. There she met Steph - her spirit guide as she used to say all the time. They started designing together and their work found its popularity around London soon after. Lea finally felt like it was her place and she for sure didn’t want to leave. Ever.

After three years she’s gotten an invitation for Alex’s wedding in Florence. Since he was like a brother to her she decided to visit her home country but soon after she got a call from him. Damiano called her at 2 am in the morning, waking her up and saying that they should meet once she arrives. At first she was shocked. They broke up on not such good terms but the truth was none of them stopped loving the other.

Damiano through all this time wrote songs about Lea. He knew that if he’d tried even a little then maybe their relationship would work. But he was a coward. He couldn’t stand a fact of long distance, being together but apart at the same time, so he decided to shut up and all his braveness vanished. His lyrics were deep and sad, all of them about being lonely, breakup and sadness. Vic, Thomas an Ethan tried to talk to him but he always shut them off, saying that he’s fine and that they shouldn’t worry. After a while he seemed to move on but when Alex called him with a wedding invitation, saying that Lea confirmed her attendance, his heart stopped. He decided to call her.

Damiano, its 2 am in the morning. What is so important you want to tell me at such a time? Lea answered her phone with a sleepy voice.

I heard you’re attending Alex’s wedding and i just.. wanted to call you to ask what are you getting them as a gift. Damiano lied which was obvious even to Lea.

For a gift? Are you out of your mind? You call me at 2 am just to ask me for a fucking gift? She said shocked at her own tone.

I uhm.. i think we should meet. You know, once you arrive. He said and brushed his hair with his palm.

We will meet at the wedding. She said harshly.

No Lea, i meant meet before the wedding. To talk.

What do you wanna talk about?

Us? He said, not being sure of her response.

Us? You want to talk about us Damiano? You said yourself you don’t want long distance and now after 3 years you want to talk about us? If it wasn’t Alex’s wedding, I’m sure you wouldn’t have called. Lea said and she was about to hang up but Damiano stopped her.

But I love you. Damiano’s words stuck in her mind making it repeat them over and over again. I’ve never stopped.

For good 5 minutes there was a silence that Lea didn’t want to break. Shock was an understatement. Of course, she hadn’t stopped loving him either but he said that out of the blue and she didn’t know exactly what to say.

I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.. Damiano started but was interrupted.

No, it’s okey. I just.. It’s not a conversation we should be having through the phone. She said quietly and soon after they ended their call.

And now he was standing in front of her. Dressed all in black, his hair longer than Lea has remembered and even more handsome than she saw him last time. She noticed that his jawline was more sharp and on his face she saw a slight beard.

Damiano also noticed some changes. Lea wasn’t wearing glasses like before, her hair were a lighter color than the brown hazelnut tone he loved so much but she looked really good.

Long time no see. Damiano said and a slight smile appeared on his face.

Yeah, long time indeed. She said squeezing tighter a handle of her suitcase.

They stood like this for what felt like forever when suddenly Lea felt Damiano’s arms wrapping around her tightly and pulling her closer for a warm hug. It truly felt like home. His scent of cologne mixed with cigarettes and his fingers gently stroking her back, his face buried in a crock of her neck and lips dangerously close to her skin. Lea felt his breath on her neck and sighed wrapping her arms around his torso, giving back the hug.

I missed you so much. Damiano whispered and Lea’s eyes started getting watery.

She missed him too but never wanted to admit it. Not after he decided to end this relationship because he didn’t have the courage to try and make it work from a distance.

Not long after she felt Damiano’s warm lips on hers. She didn’t expect it all and surprised but pleased with such sudden interaction she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. The kiss was sweet, full of love and missing each other but they both enjoyed it more than they both expected. After a while they pulled away, looking into each other’s eyes.

I know we have a lot to figure out and a lot to talk through but I’ve never stopped loving you. Please forgive me. Damiano said stroking Lea’s cheek with his thumb.

I loved you for all this time apart. Lea said and they both smiled at each other.

It didn’t matter for them that they were standing in each other’s embrace in the middle of the airport. What really mattered to them was that they found their way back to each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello everyone! I’m back and I just want to explain myself that I was on vacation in London so that’s the reason of my absence. Expect some London inspired content.

ALSOOO I JUST WANTED TO THANK FOR 100 FOLLOWERS! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH IT MEANS TO ME AND I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU! ❤️

That one is not as good but i hope you enjoy it! ❤️🥰

Requests opened.

Tag list: [ @teenyweenynightghost , @superchrystaldrug , @unitermoonshine ]

[jaekaicx]

so ive had this idea for an amphibia fangame for a lil while now-

(LONG post)

its based around the idea that sometime after anne got sent back to earth, she decides to sneak out one night to visit sasha and marcys bedrooms and poke through their stuff. this causes a bunch of memories to come back to anne through flashbacks while she tries to process everything thats happened and her feelings abt their friendship.

i was thinking itd be mostly a visual novel type thing. maybe with a few small choices, but the story would be mostly linear. thered be around 3 main story beats: a prologue bit w/ anne sneaking out of her house, marcys bedroom, and sashas bedroom. also one of the main mechanics would be looking at one of their bedrooms and clicking on random objects of importance and triggering a flashback sequence.

it came from the idea that anne will probably try to just shove all her emotions down and try to ignore her feelings abt true colors and everything that went down then. especially with what we saw in the sneak peek, anne will probably try to hide her emotions and bottle them up, which is obviously not healthy. so eventually shes gonna have to work through her emptional baggage and try to process everything.

i havent thought through EVERYTHING just yet, just some more major plot points and maybe one or two ideas for flashbacks. nothing too solid yet. but heres a bit more detailed runthrough of the plot

summary - prologue

so it would start off with anne at home. she and her mom are talking outside annes room. her moms concerned abt how annes been handling everything that happened in amphibia but anne keeps brushing everything off. her mom tries to get her to open up, but she keeps dismissing her and eventually shuts herself in her room. after taking a bit to cool off and think anne decides that shes gonna take the night to just ride off her emotions and stop repressing them for once. she also makes an impulsive decision to sneak out and check out marcy and sashas rooms.

anne goes to gather her stuff in her room, and just as shes about to climb out the window, sprig walks in to check on her. hes still rly concerned abt his big sis but he knows he cant stop her. he tries to go with anne, but she tells him she needs to do this on her own. so, sprig lets her go and tries to cover for her while shes gone.

so at this point i’ll probably give the player the choice of whose house to visit first. it doesnt rly impact the story or whatever, but i guess it might have a small emotional impact depending on whose house u choose to go to first??

(quick note: after this bit, there arent too many specific details for the plot and stuff like that. its largely just an overall idea of how the plot is gonna go. and even then, there isnt much to it. i didnt think that far ahead yet, which is why there isnt as much refinement yet. so far i just have general ideas for how annes gonna get to the bedrooms, with a couple of vague flashback ideas. just keep that in mind; this whole thing is still being thought over and planned as im typing this out)

summary - sasha

with sasha, annes still rly conflicted abt how she feels abt her. of course shes still rly hurt by being backstabbed by her twice and swordfighting her as many times. but as much as she hates sasha she cant bring herself to fully give up on sash. she hates her guts but deep down shes still willing to give sash another chance.

there may or may not be a small sequence where anne has to sneak into sashas house, but eventually she works her way into sashas room. im not entirely sure abt the details of sashas house n her family yet. im probably gonna wait for info from s3 until i solidify anything, but for now i do know that sashas family has a big house n theyre probably rich.

so anne goes into sashas room and its been left pretty much untouched ever since annes birthday, save for the few times someone came in to dust things off. again, dont rly have all the details for sashas room, but it kind of has a vibe of controlled chaos, with organized clutter and a bit of a touch of a rebellious teen girl. one detail i do want to have is a calendar opened up to the month the trio disappeared, with annes birthday circled and highlighted so much that its impossible to miss.

the calendar itself might include a flashback. im thinking of also having a varsity jacket and some old stuffed animal be different “artifacts” that trigger their own memories. there’ll be a bunch more, but those are the only ideas i have so far fjsbndnd

summary - marcy

ok so i want to be rly mean about marcys segment: this is going off the theory that marcys parents moved away while the trio was in amphibia.

anne doesnt know this yet tho, so shes in for quite a surprise when she turns onto marcys street to find a realtor sign on the front lawn. the clues are all there: an empty driveway, sign on the lawn, an overall empty vibe coming from the house. but it doesnt completely register at first. its not til anne actually comes up close does she notice the sign.

anne tries to deny it, and decides to prove to herself that “no marcys parents wouldnt do this. theyre not that cruel. im just gonna check marcys room myself.” the front doors locked, so she just goes over to marcys window and climbs in.

but its completely empty.

ok not totally empty, but a lot of marcys furniture and stuff is gone, except for a few stray toys and other “junk.” the home guys (idk what theyre called????) are still kind of in the process of cleaning everything out, so theres still some stuff left here and there around the house. but its still way too empty. and its yet another gut punch for anne.

anne searches the rest of the house a bit more, hoping that shes just hallucinating. but no, marcys parents are really gone. she tried to deny it before, but now she has more of an idea of how shitty the wu parents are. so anne decides to just mope around in marcys old room, checking out the stuff their parents left behind.

maybe she finds an old blanket marcy liked when he was rly young. or an old rubiks cube from marcys vast collection. a cnc figurine, some cards, a pride flag, and old diary? a couple of other old toys, an old report card or two, or maybe even some stray clothes. whatever anne finds, its all thats left of marcy, at least in LA.

it really doesnt leave anne in that much of a better emotional position. she already felt conflicted enough about what happened in true colors and what she found out abt marcy. but seeing even a small glimpse of what marcy was dealing with, it just makes her more confused. marcy was such a sweet kid! theres no way they couldve done anything wrong. yet here anne was, betrayed by both of her childhood friends.

only now is anne really taking the time to process the fact that marcy essentially kidnapped her and sasha with the calamity box. he didnt mean to do it, and theres no way they couldve known the box would actually work, but it doesnt completely excuse marcy. his actions still hurt anne and sash, and while they meant the best of intentions, it didnt rly come through that way.

and now marcy was dead. stabbed in the back by the newt king.

and now annes curled up in an empty bedroom, wrapped up in one of marcys old blankets, trying to wrap her head around her feelings about marcy while reminiscing in the past.

summary - extras/epilogue??

i kind of like the idea that anne ends up drifting off in which ever bedroom ended up being the second one she visited. she slowly comes back to consciousness, with her surroundings feeling somewhat familiar, only to wake up in horror bc “OH SHIT I FORGOT TO GO BACK HOME” im not completely sold on the idea tho bc it feels a bit abrupt and like too much of a tone shift?? idk it doesnt feel exactly right

but anyways, im also playing around with the idea of a small epilogue scene with the calamity trio hanging out in annes room, a good amount of time after amphibia ended. dont know what theyre doing in there, but theyre just chilling and feeling a bit nostalgic i guess.

but uh yeah thats pretty much what ive got for the overall idea. it doesnt feel too out of reach, but somethjng like this would definitely be ambitious. i could mayyyybe handle writing out the vn and drawing the character sprites, but i have no idea how to code a vn or draw detailed backgrounds, both of which would be pretty important to this fangame fjsndj. so i might consider having help with this.

THIS ISNT ANY SORT OF PROMISE OR WHATEVER. id rly love to follow through and make this fangame a thing, but im not making any guarantees. i have no idea if i’ll actually follow through, but i would definitely love to.

who knows. maybe in like a couple years this might actually become a thing. but for now i have no idea

[pastel-odette]

Revenge- A Banana Fish Fanfiction

This is a fic written for @emi-joanna. Sorry it took so long, I started work and college this past month. I hope it's as angsty as you requested!

(tws are properly tagged as tw _____)

“Eiji! Hurry up! We’re gonna be late!”

Eiji came rushing out of the house, locking up before making his way to the car. “What took you so long?” Aslan asked. Eiji opened up his satchel to reveal various snacks and sweets. “I had to grab the essentials,” he said with a smile. Aslan chuckled. “You really think we’re gonna need them?” “Yes!! During last year’s shrine visit you whined and whined about being hungry, so this time I thought I’d come prepared.” “How do you even remember that?” “Magic, my love. Now enough questions! Let’s go already!” It had been seven years since the couple had moved to Izumo. The first year had been the toughest. Despite being months out of the hospital, Aslan had still been reeling from the attack from Lao. The realization that even after Dino was dead, even after he thought he was finally free, someone still wanted to kill him had hit him extremely hard. He had felt foolish for thinking he would ever be anything other than what Dino made him. To hunt and be hunted, was that really all there was left for him? He had almost wished he hadn’t survived. He didn’t even understand why he survived in the first place.

The decision to move to Japan with Eiji did not come easy. Almost every part of him was screaming at him to abandon that hope that he could ever have a normal life. The physical distance made it seem more unattainable, too. However, Eiji was persistent. He would text every day, and call as much as he could. He was determined to make sure Aslan saw their original plan to move to Japan through.

Eventually, Aslan caved in. He said goodbye to New York, and started a new life with his soulmate. It wasn’t until he laid in bed that night, Eiji sleeping peacefully next to him, that what he did hit him all at once. An entirely new country with nothing to protect himself with.

For a while, they stayed at the Okumura family house. Eiji’s father was still in the hospital as he learned, so it was just the two of them, Eiji’s mother, and his sister. He felt surprisingly welcomed, like he was truly part of the family. It was strange to him to meet people so truly kind and hospitable upon first meeting. It wasn’t long until it started to feel like home.

But it still didn’t feel safe. He would lay awake at night, Eiji beside him, terrified of every little noise he heard. On the rare occasions where he did sleep, he would have terrible nightmares, and when he would jolt awake he would reach for a gun that wasn’t there.

The Okumuras noticed how fidgety and cautious he was. So, they installed a security system in their house. They did everything, big and small, to help him adjust to this new life. When Aslan and Eiji moved out into their own house, they took a lot of these things with them. The security system, the protective charms, the little statues of gods that could protect them. It stunned Aslan how… good he felt to be living this life.

Izumo is where Aslan had found peace and happiness. “We’re here,” Aslan said.

They made their way through the rows of trees together, surrounded by other people also dressed for the chilly weather. Some wore their traditional kimonos, some wore more casual winter clothes. As they approached the torii gates they saw a familiar person standing there. “Mari!” Eiji shouted as he waved to his sister. She waved back as she walked up and gave them both a tight hug. “How are your studies going?” Aslan asked with a soft smile. “Well, just as tough as last year. But I’m glad to finally be visiting again!” She beamed.

When Aslan moved to Japan, Mari was right there alongside Eiji to greet him. She was thrilled to meet him, and sympathetic when she realized Aslan had lived a much different life than her and her brother. It wasn’t long until she felt like his own sister. When she moved to Tokyo for college, he nearly cried with how proud he was.

“You’re not wearing mom’s kimono this year,” Eiji pointed out.

Usually, Mari would wear a deep blue kimono with a stunningly complex design depicting a soaring phoenix and a gold-colored obi. It was passed down through many generations until it was owned by their mother, and now her. Now she was wearing a pale yellow kimono with a much simpler chrysanthemum pattern and pink obi with a chrysanthemum obidome to match. Mari gave a sad smile. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I just didn’t want something so… connected to her anymore. So my friends took me shopping and I found this. Don’t worry though, I didn’t throw away the other one or anything. It’s still in my closet.” “I think it looks good. Suits you,” said Aslan. Eiji nodded his head. This time, Mari beamed.

Being the very first day of the New Year, the temple was crowded with all sorts of people. The chozuya was completely packed, and it took them a few minutes before they were able to purify their hands. Ash always wondered if his hands could ever be truly pure, but he tried not to think about that as he poured the water. It was supposed to be a day of celebration and good luck. He didn’t want his thoughts to ruin that.

Every year, Aslan wished to the gods for protection. Protection from violence, from grief, from assault, from everything that made his life miserable for so long. This year was no different. However, there was something else this year he needed extra luck for. He prayed for that too.

Next, they went to exchange their omamori. Aslan chose the protection charm, as he did every year, and Mari chose the education charm. Usually, Eiji would get the protection charm just as Aslan did. This time he chose the success charm. “What goal do you want to be successful?” Mari asked.

“This year, I’m determined to have my own photo gallery.” It was a goal he had for a while, but this year he was going to have the luck of the gods on his side.

Finally, they needed to pull their o-mikuji.

“I’m a little nervous,” Mari jokes. Most of the time she had negative fortunes. However, this year, she would apparently have a future blessing (and small luck in her romantic relationships). Aslan was given half-blessing with lots of luck in travel. Then it was Eiji’s turn.

“Curse…”

“Well, it could be worse,” Aslan said, “at least you’re not super-mega-cursed.”

Eiji just sighed and folded up the paper.

“You’re not gonna read the rest of it?” “Nah. Not really a point.”

As they left the shrine, Eiji trailed behind and sulked.

Aslan gave Mari a nudge.

“You talk to him, you're the psychology major. I’m no good at this stuff.”

Mari nodded and went to walk beside Eiji.

“Listen, if it’s just a regular curse, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. It’s mostly just little everyday inconveniences. The worst I’ve experienced with just a regular curse is that really bad breakup I had with Yui.” “With who??” “Hush, Aslan, this isn’t about you. Anyways, I don’t think you have anything to really worry about.”

When they get to the parking lot, they have to part ways. Mari made plans to go visit some of her old friends, and Aslan and Eiji had to return home, as they were going to host dinner that night.

When Aslan and Eiji arrived home, they were greeted by a very excitable golden retriever. They had gotten him about a year ago, when he was just a year old, from a local shelter. Even then, he still acted a little bit like a puppy.

“Hey, Bud,” Aslan said as he knelt down to pet Buddy. The dog jumped up to lick his face.

“Should we start dinner now?” Eiji asked as he put down his stuff and made his way to the kitchen.

“You can. Might as well. Just in case someone comes early or something.”

“You can’t just spend all afternoon petting Buddy, you know.” “I know, I know! I’ll help you in a minute.”

Buddy didn’t seem to mind all the extra attention he was getting, though. But eventually, Aslan had to go help his partner.

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” asked Aslan as he put on his apron. He didn’t always help in the kitchen, his skill level was limited to basic survival foods, but over the years he got better and better at it. It felt very domestic, to cook alongside someone.

“How about you start on the datemaki? I’ll make the ramen.”

Aslan nodded, and they both started getting their ingredients. The kitchen was large enough that they could work around each other comfortably, and it wasn’t long until the kitchen started to smell delicious. Buddy noticed this, and trotted over to beg for treats.

“I have nothing for you,” Aslan said. Still, Buddy sat beside him, wagging his tail and giving him an expectant look. Aslan tried to ignore him as he started to whine, focusing on mixing the ingredients together.

“Here, Buddy!” Eiji called the dog, waving a large bone. Buddy instantly jumped up and ran over, wagging his tail furiously. Eiji then gave him the bone, which Buddy took to the living room happily.

“There we go, that’ll keep him occupied,” Eiji smiled. Aslan couldn’t help but smile back.

They continued cooking nonstop into the evening. As time went on, the more dishes they completed, and the more it started to look like a full meal. However, they were still pretty far from done.

Aslan sighed as he stretched. There was enough time to just take a tiny little break, he thought. He leaned against the counter and looked over at Eiji. His partner seemed distracted by something as he stared off into space.

“Hey.”

“Ah!” Eiji jumped, fumbling the bag of flour he was holding before dropping it on the counter.

“Ohhh no!” he exclaimed. Aslan chuckled slightly before helping his partner clean up the mess.

“Looks like your bad luck has officially begun.”

“Don’t even joke about that!” Eiji said as he smacked the other with a floured towel. Ash looked down at his arm then back up at Eiji with a smile.

“Really? You wanna start this?” He dipped his thumb in the flour before smudging it across Eiji’s cheek.

“You’re on!”

And that’s how it started, a full-blown flour war.

Nothing was spared. Flour was thrown, smudged, and flew everywhere. The counters, the floor, their clothes, their skin, their hair and skin, all of it was covered in at least a thin layer of flour.

It was stupid, it was childish, they had wasted an entire bag just making everything dirty. But they didn’t care. It was fun. They were having fun and messing around together. At that moment, they weren’t thinking about having to clean up and get back to cooking, they just thought about each other.

The couple just laid on the floor together as Buddy sniffed around them before licking Aslan in the face.

“No, Buddy!” Aslan squealed, pushing Buddy’s face away. The dog just wagged his tail as his owners helped each other up.

“You’re a mess,” Eiji laughed.

“Speak for yourself! You’re even dirtier than me! Go take a shower, I’ll clean this all up.”

Eiji kissed Aslan’s floured cheek before going to wash himself and his clothes.

Once everything was all clean, both of them included, they had to work faster in order to get everything done by the time their guests would arrive. Occasionally, though, they would look over at each other, and laugh silently before getting back to work.

Eventually, they had a complete New Year’s Day dinner. Eiji set the table while Aslan arranged the food into the boxes.

“Well, I’d say it looks pretty good,” Aslan said.

“We make a pretty good team!” Eiji shouted from the dining room.

When everything was all set for their guests to arrive, they high-fived to celebrate their hard work. It was the first time they cooked for New Year’s all on their own, and it was the first time they would be hosting.

The first to arrive were Ibe and his wife, Namiko. They met shortly after he returned to Japan, and she was a very kind woman, the kind that got along with all her neighbors and would check in on them from time to time. The couple greeted their hosts warmly with hugs and a bottle of sake.

Buddy was thrilled to have guests, and quickly ran over to receive pets from two of his many favorite humans.

It wasn’t much longer after that when Mari arrived, and the party officially started. Chatter filled the house as they ate. They talked about everything that had happened during the past year, everything they accomplished, and everything they hoped to accomplish this year.

“Well, I have no complaints,” Ibe said, “We traveled a lot this year for work.”

“It was great! So many fun new places we visited,” Namiko said.

“Mine was just another normal year of classes. I made a new group of friends, and they’re really great," Mari said through a mouthful of food.

“We adopted our dog,” Eiji beamed. Buddy was resting in the living room. After a while of whining for food, he had finally given up, and they knew if they mentioned him by name he would come over and start begging again.

The party went on late into the night as they continued to chat and drink. Everyone’s spirits couldn’t be higher as they celebrated the past and welcomed in the future, giving a toast for good luck. Eventually, though, the night had to end. They said their goodbyes to each other, and the guests went home, leaving Aslan and Eiji to clean up.

Aslan felt content as he washed the dishes. It was a great night, surrounded by people he loved. Seven years in Japan. He hadn’t felt like Ash Lynx in so long. He felt like he had control over his life.

A partner, a house, a dog, a legal job, friends, a little sister. The old ladies on his street fawned over him as if he was free from sin. The local coffee shop knew his face and order by heart. Nobody feared him, they were all friendly towards him, and treated him as if he really was normal.

Oftentimes it felt unreal. But as he sat on the couch, Eiji nestled into his side, he knew it was.

“Thank you,” Eiji murmured.

“For what?”

“For helping out today. For everything you do. You’re so good to me.”

Aslan smiled softly.

“I should be the one saying that to you.”

“How about we’re both good to each other?”

“Yeah,” Aslan whispered, “I can agree with that.”

The next few days of the New Year were spent with Mari. The plan was for her to go back to Tokyo on the fourth, when the holiday was over, so they wanted as much time with her as they could.

During the Japanese New Year, businesses are closed for the next three days. They couldn't go to restaurants, shops, or the market. So mostly, they just spent time at Aslan and Eiji’s house. Watching TV, playing board games, and video games on the SNES they got a few years back. They could also go to the beach.

Izumo was a coastal town, with cliff sides to the north, and a long, thin strip of beach to the west. When the three of them stepped out of the car, they were glad they brought thick coats, as there was a cold breeze.

“Come on Buddy!” Eiji said as he opened the car door. The dog jumped out of the car, wagging his tail happily.

The beach was an important place in Izumo, something Aslan had learned shortly after he moved. On the northern shore of the beach, there was a very large rock with a small shrine on top, too high for humans to reach. Every October, the gods would come to Izumo, and convene at the beach and its shrine.

Aside from it being a spiritual place, the beach was also just beautiful. It reminded Aslan of when he was younger, when he and Griffin would run across the sand and splash in the waves. Sometimes, when he and Eiji would take a walk along the beach, they would see children or a family, and he would feel a bit of nostalgia.

Now, he walked this beach with his new family.

It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was low in the sky. They were only planning for it to be a relatively short walk, and would return to the car not long after the sun fully set. It was just nice to get some fresh air.

The trio walked in silence, aside from Buddy’s pants, until Aslan broke it.

“You know, Mari, you got a pretty interesting fortune this year,” he said.

Eiji caught on to what he meant. “Yeah! Are you excited for it?”

“For the future fortune? I guess so. It’s better than I get most years,” she said.

“No no, I mean about your romance fortune,” Aslan smiled.

Mari became slightly flustered, glaring at the couple. They just laughed in response.

“You should really get back out there again,” Eiji teased, “You’re not still heartbroken over Yui are you?”

Mari lightly punched her brother in the side.

“Of course not! That was the beginning of high school! Butt out of my love life!”

“But you, dear sister, are the one that butted into my love life when I went to America.”

“I shall have you know, dear brother, that I have matured since then. Besides, the charm I gave you worked, didn’t it?”

Eiji looked over at Aslan with a smile and squeezed his hand.

“Yeah. It did.”

The sun had begun to set at this point, halfway across the horizon. It was a beautiful sight, soft pinks and reds across the sky. The three stopped to admire it, Buddy sitting beside them.

“I think this is a moment worth capturing,” Eiji said. He got the polaroid camera from around his neck. They all posed close together, Aslan picking up Buddy so he could be in the shot, with the sunset in the background.

“Smile!”

Click.

The photo printed slowly, and Eiji shook it so it could develop faster.

It showed the four of them, happy in smiling, in the place they loved so much. They waited for the sun to set fully before returning home.

Instantly, the photo went up on their wall.

Unfortunately, the fourth eventually came, and Mari had to leave. At the train station, they said their goodbyes.

“Be sure to write!” Eiji said as she waved.

“I always do!”

With that, the train doors closed, and she left Izumo. Since it was the first day of the new year that businesses were open, Aslan decided he might as well go run some errands.

“See you at home,” he said as he pecked Eiji on the cheek.

“Mhm, see you.” Eiji waved goodbye to him.

The first stop was the coffee shop. Why not, right? It was a very cozy little shop and the majority of the patrons were locals and regulars. When the barista noticed him, he smiled.

“The usual?”

Aslan nodded, and the barista got to work. The coffee shop was relatively small compared to those in America, and it was warmly lit. As Aslan sat at the counter watching the barista he felt the chill of the mid-winter weather.

“Here’s your coffee,” the barista said as he placed the mug in front of Aslan. Most people see Aslan as the type of person to drink straight black coffee. And for a while, he was. As soon as he was “old enough” to drink coffee, he would drink it without sugar or creamer. It fit the persona he had and made him seem more mature to those around him. Now he didn’t care about any of that. He made his coffee super sweet. Tons of sugar, tons of creamer, because that was the way he actually liked it.

Usually, he would take the time to stay and chat with the barista for a bit. He was a funny and friendly guy, most of the reason Aslan liked this coffee shop in particular. However, today he had the odd urge to get home as much as possible. Maybe it was just because of the chill, he thought.

The next stop was the grocery store. They only really needed things to replace what they had used to cook dinner on New Years, including the flour that they had wasted.

He absentmindedly went through the small store until a voice called out to him from behind.

“My dear Aslan!”

He turned around to see his neighbor, Mrs. Tanaka. She was an old woman, kind as can be like almost everyone else in the neighborhood, who loved to garden in her front lawn and chat him up whenever she saw him. Aslan greeted her back and smiled.

“How have you been? How’s Eiji? Did you have a good new year?”

“Everything is good. How was your trip?”

The two chatted for a bit, catching up on things that happened since the last time they talked. Most of his neighbors he could strike up a conversation with just like this. It was the kind of neighborhood he could see himself and Eiji growing old in. It was a weird thought, to grow old with someone in a small town, but it was right.

They said their goodbyes, and Aslan continued shopping as normal.

When Aslan came home, the front door was unlocked. Huh. Maybe Eiji just forgot. However, when he opened the door, he was met with a horrible sight.

There lay Buddy, unmoving, in a pool of blood.

Aslan dropped his bags and rushed to his dear pet. He picked him up gently as tears began to fall.

How did this even happen? When? Why wasn’t he here to stop it?

That’s when he saw it. The wound on Buddy’s neck. A bullet wound. Someone… shot Buddy. There was no way. He was supposed to be safe in Japan. He was supposed to be safe with Eiji. Eiji... “Eiji!” he shouted. No response. He shouted again. The house was silent. Aslan gently placed down Buddy’s body. He had to make sure Eiji was okay. Eiji had to be okay, right?

Aslan crept through the house silently, listening for any sounds that might lead him towards Eiji or the intruder. As he approached the kitchen, he saw a pot on the stove bubbling over, so he turned off the stove. This whole thing must have happened fairly recently. A knife was also missing from the drawer.

Finally, he made his way to the bedroom.

What he saw terrified him.

Eiji. Sprawled across the floor, next to the open closet doors as if he had been pulled out, a knife in his hand. A bullet in his forehead. His eyes were wide open, and his cheeks were stained with tears.

Ash fell to his knees. This couldn’t be happening. Eiji couldn’t be dead. He was dreaming, he was hallucinating, this was some kind of joke. What separated him from his old life now? What stopped him from being Ash Lynx again?

Ash sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. His love had been murdered. The bastard shot his dog, too. Why? He didn’t do anything. Neither of them did anything. It wasn’t fair.

He reached into the closet and pulled out a small box. Inside was a silver engagement ring. He picked up Eiji’s greying, cold hand and slipped the ring onto his finger.

“I know that we could never get married legally. But I still wanted to think of you as my husband. After all we had been through, didn’t we deserve that much?”

Eiji didn’t respond. His glossed-over eyes stared at nothing. Ash closed them.

“My soul will always be with you.”

--------

This might turn into a chaptered fic

Thank you to @syanara for betaing!

Tag list: @mycatshuman

[qqueenofhades]

Keeping my fingers crossed for that Black Widow meta

Aha, okay. As usual, I am ludicrously easy to enable, so let's take a crack at this. The ask obviously contains SPOILERS for the Black Widow film (and is also tagged "black widow spoilers" if you're planning to filter), and discussion/reference to other films/properties in the MCU, though I don't feel like any of those are still a secret.

Anyway, as I said in my earlier post, I can't believe I am actually still trying to critically analyse a Marvel production in the year of our Lord 2021, but then, I feel like we all have a complicated relationship with it. Likewise, the feeling of "oh wow NOW you're giving Natasha a solo movie after you killed her off in a cheap and fairly sexist way in Endgame?" If this film had come out ten or even five years ago, it would have been major, but holding it off until now seems to have left most of us justifiably unimpressed. Plus, as I am absolutely not the first person to point out, it renders Natasha's sacrifice in Endgame "because I don't have a family" even more narratively incoherent. I realize that this film was written after that one by totally different people, there's no point in expecting the MCU to make consistent canonical sense throughout its eighty billion different films/series, we were all stuck with a mess after the Whedonified Age of Ultron Nat, and so forth, but still. Natasha explicitly SAYS that she has two families (her wacky Russian found family of spies and the Avengers) and her decision to leap off the cliff in Endgame to save Clint and his retconned perfect white heterosexual nuclear family.... Hmmmm. To which I say to you, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I do bite my thumb at Male Writers, sir.

Likewise, while I am wildly attracted to Florence Pugh as Yelena and deeply desire to be wrapped between her thighs, the movie felt more like her story than Nat's. Yelena drove most of the plot and the action, while Nat was just kind of along for the ride. As a solo piece, we really didn't learn that much about Natasha aside from the opening scene (which felt like it was straight out of The Americans and probably worked the best of the whole film for the reason) with her childhood in America. But even the infamous "what happened in Budapest" backstory with her and Clint was quickly info-dumped rather than shown, and they could have taken more narrative risks or included more flashbacks or otherwise given us more NATASHA, y'know??? Instead of cramming the film into the small space between Civil War and Infinity War and making it even weirder that Nat seemingly has no memory or reference to these events when she returns to the team at that time. Why not show her looking for Yelena or her actual defection to the Avengers or anything else we might want from a film that purportedly exists entirely to provide backstory for a now-dead character? It felt like even in the film universe, the main quest was being repeated -- she tried to kill Baddie McSoviet once before and it didn't work out, so she has to do it again, something something. Okay.

As for that, good ol' Marvel and its American Superiority TM. The only actual Eastern European actress in this film about Eastern Europeans was Antonia/Taskmaster, played by the Ukrainian Olga Kurylenko (and I was very interested in her?? If she's supposed to be a narrative foil and a ghost of Nat's past and mark of her former sins, etc., why not develop her as an actual character?) Everyone else were Brits and Americans hamming it up with even more chew-the-scenery fake Russian accents than Elizabeth Olsen's "Sokovian" accent as Scarlet Witch. If it's established that they all have perfect American accents at the start of the movie, why is Nat the only American-accented character in the modern day if she had presumably the exact same childhood as Yelena? I know it's another way to set her apart, but that and Baddie McSoviet (the Russians are finding a way to steal free will from people's brains! Zomgz!!! Is this 2021 or 1981?) were straight out of the Cold War in terms of its not-so-veiled American Supremacy Message. Likewise, making modern!Natasha a former KGB agent never really made sense, since she says in Winter Soldier that she was born in 1984, and we see her in this film as an 11-year-old in 1995. But the USSR collapsed in 1991, when she was seven, and the Red Room appears to be an entirely unrelated flying....lab....thingy run by a generic evil Russian (Ray Winstone, likewise Hamming Up Accent). So like. What is she, guys?? Make up your minds!!!

Likewise, Baddie McSoviet/Dreykov as a villain obviously plays into the hoary old Hollywood "All Bad People Are Recognizable As Being Terrible Sexists and Also Probably Russians" trope, but aside from that, he doesn't make sense. He has this entire army of basically unstoppable Widows and he has just been.... waiting around and causing random explosions? Or was just waiting for Nat and company to return so he could Put His Evil Plan Into Motion? Are we really supposed to believe that this guy has just been sitting up in his flying saucer and essentially never doing anything this whole time? He had about a million chances to launch this take-over-the-world plan long before Natasha ever got there. Plus, I.... am.... not sure what to think (aside from /deep sigh/ MARVEL) about the fact that all the Widows we see dying/getting killed on screen are women of color. (Then the Black surgeon who was about to remove Yelena's brain in the Red Room and the only other Black guy being Natasha's errand boy, which just... in context... YIKES.) I think the fact that there are random Black background Widows are supposed to mean that they're inclusive and badass or something? Scarlett Johansson also has her own issues with White Feminism and all the other things we've critiqued her for before, so after TFATWS and the Flag Smashers, Marvel clearly has found its subtly racist sweet spot. As usual?

The end of the film also just basically turns into the standard Marvel empty-spectacle/cool-looking fights/people flying through the air thing, and I wanted a lot more focus on the wacky found-family Russian-spy hijinks (I did love them, for reasons) and character dynamics, rather than all of them separately fighting baddies in different places. I did obviously have feelings about Natasha putting the parachute on Yelena to save her life. But why were we then denied Nat/Gamora parallels/relationships/any character development or interaction at all in Infinity War/Endgame? Both of them are trained assassins adopted into a non-biological family that they have a complicated relationship with, but end up forging a strong bond with their sister (Yelena/Nebula) nonetheless. Of course, that would have required Endgame to put more effort into its female characters than what it did, which was one (1) Epic CGI Charge Scene at the very end, and literally nothing else. Not that I am still salty about this or anything.

Anyway. The movie was genuinely fun in places. The wacky Russian found family of spies was definitely the best part, even if it made Endgame even more nonsensical as a result. But I wanted this movie to be a lot better than it was overall, though I probably would have liked it more if it had actually come out in a timely fashion and wasn't only released after they killed her off. It just feels like there were so many possible threads of potential that could have been done with Natasha if they were actually interested in experimenting and exploring the character and not just coming up with new baddies and ways to go boom, and it unfortunately missed the mark with that.

[sadpotatoondrugs]

Time For a Change [Ch.3]

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Not even a week after Marinette met up with the school counselor, she received another letter stating the dates of her placement tests. They were each three days apart from one another, which she found nothing but stressing. While the days were intended to let students take their focus off of the test they just went through and review notes for their upcoming test, she spent those days trying not to explode from excitement.

She was glad that she made this decision this early into the year, otherwise she would probably struggle a lot more with catching up to their curriculum than she did now. Joining in the middle of the sophomore year would be a lot tougher than joining in the middle of the freshman year. From the information she was given on what to study, she was pleasantly surprised to find out that she knew the majority of it already! Which, to her relief, meant that she could take a breather for a while. She appreciated that a lot. After so many days of stressing out, she was happy to finally enjoy some time with her mom and dad playing Ultimate Mecha Strike III, helping them out in the bakery again and even just relaxing back in her room.

After her exams came a wave of freedom. Until her results came in, she would have nothing to do other than wait. And help her parents out in the bakery, of course.

“Thank you! Have a nice day!” Finally serving the last customer in line, Marinette took off her gloves and entered the bakery kitchen. Her parents were working on one of their long-term orders; A three layered cake with a lot of custom decorations that the client was very specific about. While her father worked on the foundation and the structure, her mother was stressing over making the details for the cake right.

“How’s everything going?” She asked after making sure her mom was not touching the small marzipan pieces of decoration she was working on. It seemed to be parts of very detailed flowers and leaves and she was finishing the final detailing on them, checking twice to make sure every piece made was properly decorated as the customer ordered.

“It’s a bit much, but nothing we can’t handle. Thank you so much for helping us out, sweetie.” Sabine smiled at her daughter tiredly. She sighed afterwards, turning her head down to finish checking the leaves before moving up and taking them to the main freezer.

“Are you sure I can’t help you with it? You seem like you could use some rest.” Shutting the freezer door tight and turning the handle, Sabine smiled at her before moving to her husband’s side and helping him straighten the white fudge on the cake.

“Marinette, you already helped us so much by taking care of the customers and making the majority of the decorations.” Tom answered, moving aside for his wife and helping her place the stretched fudge on the cake properly. “And you still need to finish the final touches on the dress. The wedding is in two days already.”

Oh, that’s right. Half a year back, their bakery was tasked with the catering for a slightly big wedding that was bound to happen on December 14th. Marinette, along with her parents, couldn’t be happier to find out that Nadja Chamack was going to remarry. After what happened with her past husband, they were worried she might never marry again, but here she was! Announcing not only her wedding, but their invitations along with Sabine’s task as a Maid of Honor and Marinette’s task as a bridesmaid. They accepted with a hug as they all congratulated their long-time family friend. Before she left the bakery, she asked them one more request; to cater at her wedding and prepare the cake. They immediately accepted and even offered a family discount since she was a close friend. After trying to disagree and failing horribly, she turned to Marinette with a request for a dress.

She found out that the Dupain-Chengs were all better at negotiating than her and left defeated with two family discounts on her list.

Marinette never knew she was even seeing somebody. Though, she did suspect something from the lack of babysitting requests, but she thought that Nadja hired a professional babysitter to take care of Manon. And even though she was sad at first for not getting to see Manon that often anymore (that little rascal had claimed a place in her heart), she was glad the little girl would finally have a father figure to look up to again.

She met the man when they came in to try out the flavors for the cake. He seemed like a gentleman at first, but after spending some time with him over dinner (yes, her parents invited the whole family over for supper), she found out that not only was he a gentleman, but a huge dork resided in his soul. She saw how he and Manon got along really well and how he made her and her mother seemingly happy. That was all she needed to know that he was a good man.

Marinette had enough time to plan both the wedding dress and her bridesmaid dresses – as the designer for the wedding gown, the bridesmaid dresses needed to match according to the style of the bride’s dress.

It was pretty easy to design the bridesmaid dresses, it was Nadja’s dress she was stressed about. After all, it was the first wedding dress she was going to be making. And it was for their long-time friend! She couldn’t bare to let Nadja down.

The first design was kind of a fail; she sketched a simple wedding gown with hidden underlayer of very faint pastel pink that matched the color of the flowers embedded along the center front of the dress. Sadly, she completely forgot about the wedding happening in winter and sketched the dress with short sleeves. Thankfully, Nadja told her not to stress about the dress that much and only asked for two small changes. The first one was obviously to make the dress appropriate for winter, as she did not want to freeze over while telling her vow. The second one was a color change, as the color pink was not the woman’s preference. She asked for it to be a shade of cream white instead.

Marinette, though slightly embarrassed for making the dress styled by her favorite color, changed the color and made the sleeves long, adding a furry bolero for her to cover herself with to provide more heat. Nadja approved of the changes.

Since she didn’t think about winter while designing the bridesmaid dresses either, she had to change them as well. She chose the bridesmaids to have hourglass sheath dresses of a shade of grey with the top layer being a see-through sparkling fabric. The grey layer had faint designs of white flowers to follow the wedding theme but still be vague. The dresses didn’t look right to her with long sleeves, so she only added the same white furry bodice as she did to Nadja’s wedding gown.

To top the looks off, she sketched the veil for the bride to be in the for of a flower crown, with the flowers being the same shade of cream white like the dress. The bridesmaids did not have a veil attached, but they did have their own flower crowns, only theirs were white and the petals were remarkably smaller. She was pretty bummed about not getting to make the bridesmaid dresses and having other designer make them, even the one for her. But she understood. And with the amount of work it took her to get the right materials and make the wedding gown, she was glad that she didn’t have to worry about making them in the end.

Alas, the bridesmaid dresses turned out great. After going to the designer for measurements and then the final fitting, she was satisfied with how the dress turned out. She thankfully didn’t have to pay anything (Nadja paid for all the bridesmaid’s dresses since they had to match), so she merely thanked the woman and went home to carefully put them away.

And while the bridesmaid dress took a while to make, she had it safely stored in her closet by the end of September. It looked wonderful and it fit her perfectly.

Anyway, back to the story where Marinette is leaving the bakery kitchen.

Glancing towards the bakery to see if there are any customers, Marinette takes off her apron and brings out a phone.

“…..Hello, Nadja! I’m just calling to ensure that you will meet with me for the final fitting today at four pm, is that correct?... Alright, perfect. Thank you…. Yes, they are. They will talk it over with you after the dress fitting. Okay, thank you. See you at four!” Hanging up, she sighed and poured herself a cup of coffee. Bringing it over to the bakery and slipping back into her apron, she put her phone on the counter and took a sip of her coffee, watching the people outside pass by their bakery door.

It was going to be a long day.

 Somewhere around 1 pm, her parents emerged from the kitchen right as she was serving the last customer in line. She noticed her parents and gestured to the coffee machine nearby while she stepped around the counter and went to close the bakery for lunch break.

“Did you call Nadja about the dress?” Her mother asked, pouring herself and her husband a cup of coffee that Marinette prepared earlier. Marinette nodded and took off her apron, setting it aside and pouring herself a cup of coffee, too.

“I told her you would show her the cake after we do the fitting for the dress.” Sabine sighed with a smile

“What would we do without you?”

“Hired a worker, probably.” That earned her a slap on the shoulder. The family moved to their apartment and began preparing lunch. After their break was over, the trio went back into the bakery, with only Tom going back into the kitchen. Sabine stayed behind and made her way behind the counter, putting on an apron and going through the pastries to make sure every one of them is soft.

Marinette helped out for a while before her mother instructed her to go upstairs.

“We’ve got it handled from now, Sweetie. You can go upstairs.” Who was she to argue.

Thanking her mom and kissing her cheek in gratitude, she basically sprinted upstairs and into her room. As soon as she entered, she collapsed head-first onto the chaise.

“This is good.” She sighed in content “I’m gonna stay like this forever.”

“Marinette-” A scream could be heard coming from somewhere in Paris.

“Goddamn it.”

 “See, this is why we can’t have anything nice.” Marinette muttered under her breath as she watched the akuma destroy the Eifell Tower (..again. Like, seriously, what’s with the akumas always going for the tower?).

“That’s where you’re wrong, M’Lady. Paris has the nicest heroine it can have.” Sighing in relief at the sound of her partner finally joining the fight, she jumped back to avoid getting hit by the akuma’s power and landed right next to Chat Noir.

“Nice of you to drop in. The akuma is in his headdress, don’t get caught by his vines. If you do, the more you move, the tighter they get. And watch out for getting hit, too. Some of them have thorns.” Before Chat Noir had a chance to respond, the akuma noticed his presence and rushed his vines at the both of them. They jumped sideways, splitting up to outrun the vines.

“Where are all these vines even coming from?” Ladybug wasted no time in responding, circling one of the vines with her yoyo, snapping it in half.

“The vines are actually his hair. He can control them and even snap them and grow a bunch of other vines if needed. I tried getting the all stuck but-” Dodging a wild vine, she ducked behind one of the chimneys. “-they just snapped off and regrew.”

“Do we know enough?” Ladybug nodded, even though he was too occupied with the akuma to actually see it, and called on her lucky charm. A pair of scissors.

“Well, he could certainly use a new haircut.” Groaning at his pun, like usual, she looked around for any ideas. It would be pointless to cut his hair when it could immediately grow back. There was nothing that would help her find out what she was supposed to do. At least not near the Eifell tower.

“Chat Noir! We need to lead him away from the tower.”

“You heard the lady. Come on big guy. Time for your gardener appointment.” The akuma growled and went after the two heroes. Ladybug kept searching for anything that would help her think of a plan. The akuma was fortunately focused on them and caused minimal harm to the citizens around. There weren’t many of them in the first place, anyway.

She kept glancing around, thinking about any possible plans to defeat the villain and get back to her lovely unfinished nap. (Not that it even started in the first place)

“I got you, now!” In her moment of un-focus, the akuma got a hold of her foot with one of his vines and yanked her towards him.

“Ladybug!” Reacting quickly, she grabbed the scissors and cut the vine that was holding her ankle, yanking her foot away from it. It worked and she was free of the vine, but she had no time to bring out her yoyo and crash landed on a nearby roof.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” A voice not belonging to her partner asked. She looked around and spotted a girl who seemed to be about her age. Her blonde hair were put in a long braid and she seemed to be wearing a pair of overalls with a simple purple t-shirt.

But that wasn’t important.

What was important was that she was mere meters away from the akuma battle.

“I’m fine, thank you. You need to get inside, quickly.” Standing up and spinning her yoyo, she turned around to protect the girl from the akuma in case it attacked them.

“Well, as much as I would love to hide in the comfort of my room, I can’t.”

Seeing the akuma preoccupied with her partner (Who seemed to be angrier than before she got thrown away), she faced the girl once more.

“I’m dirty.” Pushing aside any remarks that came to her mind at that sentence, she glanced at the girl and noticed her hands, boots and even some parts of her overalls covered in dirt and mud. “Plus, the door got stuck.”

Sighing, she glanced around at their surroundings and registered that the roof she got crashed into was actually a small roof top garden. It clicken in her mind that the girl must’ve been working in the garden and taking care of the plants when they decided to crash the party with the akuma.

Wait.

Garden.

Plants.

“Oh and you dropped this.” The lucky charm’s pair of scissors.

She smiled at the girl in determination.

“I have a plan, would you mind helping me?”

 The akuma got easily angered once he noticed the spotted heroine destroying the lovely garden. And not only the weeds, the plants and vegetables. His focus switched immediately from Chat Noir to her, which was what she wanted. Once he was on the roof, Chat Noir resumed in distracting him. Once the akuma was near the storage shed in the garden, Ladybug smirked and grabbed a hose.

In a second, the akuma heard the snipping of scissors and felt his body get lighter. At the same time, he felt Ladybug tying him up with the hose she grabbed prior to the assassination on his hair.

“Kind of a dumb move.” He tried snipping the hose with his vines, but-wait. Where were his vines? Why weren’t they growing back? Glancing back, he saw a tan, blonde girl, holding a spray bottle.

“A mixture of salt, vinegar and water. We always have some of that around here.”

“Now, Chat Noir!”

“Cataclysm!”

In an instant, the akuma was defeated.

“What.. What am I doing here? Where am I?.. This… This isn’t my garden.”

The three fist-bumped. While Ladybug purified the akuma, Chat Noir took care of the victim and told him what happened. Ladybug smiled and turned to the girl.

“You did great! Not everybody would remain chill with us destroying their property, uh-..?” Noticing the implication, the blonde giggled.

“Allegra. And thanks, I would be pretty upset about this but this was for the greater good, so… It’s fine.”

Ladybug turned to Chat Noir, her earrings flashing that she only had two minutes left (But whatever, when did time work as it should for the miraculous). “Will you take care of the victim? I need to get going in a bit.”

“Of course, M’Lady.” He winked and, after kissing her hand lightly, Chat Noir took the previously akumatized victim and carried him to the ground floor, leaving the two girls alone.

“…”

“…”

“So.. Uh… Are you… Are you going to repair my garden, now, or…..”

“Oh! Right!”

 When she finally arrived home, she was more than happy to resume her previous plans on napping until Nadja came over for the final fitting. She woke up a few minutes prior to her arrival to get everything ready and check the dress one last time.

The woman saw the gown on many occasions when she came over to check up on it and, on few occasions, drop off Manon when she and her fiancé had a date night. Nonetheless, Marinette was still nervous about showing her the finished version of the dress. She hoped the woman would be fully satisfied, since the wedding was in two days and there was no time to make big changes to it.

A knock came from the other side of her hatch at exactly 4 PM, and she was happy to invite the woman in. As soon as Nadja saw her dress, she froze. That stunt made Marinette freeze as well, her overreacting thoughts coming out from the deepest, darkest hole in her brain as she started apologizing for anything that might be wrong with the dress.

“Marinette.” She halted her words immediately, hands freezing in the position they were in when she was explaining certain parts of the dress. Nadja smiled at her, a tear visible in her eye. “It’s perfect.” She hugged the young designer she has known since her birth. Marinette came out of her shock, smiling softly at her and hugged her back. “Sorry if I made you worried.” She stated teasingly after releasing her from the bone-crushing hug.

“No worries. I’m pretty used to it. Speaking of; I think your daughter has your strength… Phew..” Nadja giggled as Marinette let out a puff of air. She then sighed and looked longingly at the gown.

“I just can’t believe it’s really happening.” Marinette looked at her curiously. “I mean, of course I know it’s happening, I just… It seems… Unreal. Like a dream.. You know?” She glanced at the girl.

Marinette didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. She didn’t need to. She knew the question wasn’t meant to be answered, it was merely rhetorical and it was more like the woman was admitting her emotions rather than asking for her input. She instead moved towards the divider and extended it, creating a temporary changing room.

“Time to try them on, then.”

 Of course, Nadja liked them a lot. She actually cried once more after seeing herself in the mirror wearing them. And although Marinette couldn’t possibly understand the emotions the woman was going through at that moment since she never even had a boyfriend so marriage was far from the girl’s mind, she could imagine the love and happiness (and maybe.. pride?) flowing through Nadja’s heart. She once thought about what her marriage would be like, back when she had feelings for a very specific model, but that image in her head died a long time ago. Along with her feelings for the boy.

After making small changes on the dress, mostly tightening spots that were loose on Nadja’s body, the dress was done and could be marked off as finished. After letting the designer take pictures of the dress alone and on Nadja for her portfolio, Nadja paid the respective price for it and thanked her again.

“Nadja… You look… Perfect…”

The two turned sideways to a teary-eyed Sabine, poking into the room through Marinette’s hatch. Upon noticing their stares on her, the woman ascended the stairs and stood before the woman in white, slowly circling her and gently touching the soft fabric. Seeing this as her que to leave the two women to talk, Marinette quietly announced her exit and left the room, only grabbing her purse and her coat on the way out.

“Hey, papa. How’s the cake?”

“Almost finished. How’s the dress?”

“Finished.” She stated proudly.

“Good job, Sweetheart. Do you know where your mother is? She suddenly disappeared.”

“I think you can go and rest for a bit. She is upstairs with Nadja and.. I think it’ll take a while. I left them alone to talk.” Tom smiled at his daughter, ruffling her hair over the counter before noticing her outfit and purse.

“It’s Friday.” At that, his face suddenly lit up and he immediately packed two croissants into  a paper bag, handing them to Marinette while kissing her forehead.

“Alright, have fun.”

“Will do, papa.”

As Marinette stepped out, she took a moment to embrace the coldness of December. Shivering slightly for a while, she took out her phone after feeling it vibrate in her purse. She smiled upon noticing the contact name and read it.

I arrived earlier. Our usual table was occupied so I found another one. You will need to head the other way.

Walking quickly to get to warmth as soon as possible, she looked at the time. It was half past five, but since it was winter, the sun was long gone from the sky and replaced by the beautiful moon. Marinette enjoyed the winter in Paris. Apart from the cold, the snow-covered Paris illuminated by the Christmas lights from people’s windows and homes, along with the streetlights, it made it all seem magical.

Not even ten minutes later, she was standing inside a small restaurant that she, over the past few months, came to love and know like the back of her hand. She followed the instructions she was told and found her friend patiently waiting for her in one of the booths. When they spotted each other, they both immediately smiled at one another and waved.

Usually, they would sit outside while drinking their favorite juice, but ever since it became cold, the outside patio had been closed. Nobody would sit in the cold anyway. The beverages they normally drank changed with the seasons, too. They both preferred to order hot chocolate or coffee, depending on the energy levels of the two.

“Hey, Kagami! It’s good to see you!” Marinette greeted, sitting down and making herself comfortable in her seat.

After a year of Lila’s manipulations and Marinette’s loneliness, Marinette decided it was time to meet new people, meet new friends. She signed up for a friendship day contest in hopes of finding a new friend. Imagine her surprise when she got partnered up with Kagami, her former love rival.

Since she didn’t have any silly crush clouding her mind anymore (mainly, her opinions), she smiled warmly at the girl. It was all weird at first, the questions she asked and how she smiled at her. Nonetheless, she was determined to give the girl a chance. Together, they got through the contest rather quickly. She was actually pleasantly surprised at how well she and Kagami worked together.

They were even close to winning the contest! They just had to split up and take selfies with the other one’s phone. Marinette quickly took a simple, peace-sign selfie with a big smile. They quickly met back up and exchanged their phones back and Marinette was pleasantly surprised to see a smiling selfie of Kagami. Kagami’s phone rang, unfortunately, and her mother was not pleased with her daughter participating in a game for making friends. She got upsed and, sadly, akumatized.

Ikari Gozen somehow knew where her daughter was and appeared before them in an instant. Marinette tried to get Kagami out of the way and hide her, but her mother was too fast and strong. She pushed her aside with a mere shove and grabbed her daughter. Marinette tried to get the girl back from the akuma’s grasp, but her efforts were futile. She yelled at Kagami to hold on, and that she was going to get help for her.

After retrieving the miraculous and informing Longg of her plan, she delivered it to Kagami. If all went according to plan, the akuma could be dealt with in minutes.

Not even a minute after the delivery was made, Ikari Gozen fell over in pain, clutching her robo-stomach and releasing immense amounts of water. She collapsed afterwards, and with the water around slowly transforming into the newest heroine. She asked Ladybug of the whereabouts of her friend, which Ladybug reassured her that she was the one who alerted her and she got her to safety. After introducing the dragon hero, Ryuko, to Chat Noir, and taking care of Kagami’s mother, the two girls were off.

After the two of them regrouping as Kagami and Marinette, the two found out that the game had already ended. While Kagami seemed a little bummed about the loss, Marinette was quick to cheer her up and the two went for their first juice together. And as it turned out, it wasn’t their last.

The two talked over the juice and when Marinette asked Kagami about her strange behavior and her mother, she got a pretty sad backstory. She felt guilt for being suspicious of the girl at first, and felt even worse when she was told that Kagami had no friends and how her mother was strict about everything.

Needless to say, Kagami was proud to say that her mother wasn’t the only contact in her phone after that day.

Anyways, forgive the author for getting sidetracked, back onto the main storyline.

Kagami smiled at her friend as she sat down.

“Hello, Marinette. It’s good to see you, too.” The waiter came and took their representative orders, smiling at the familiar customers kindly before walking away. “Did your results came in yet?”

The ravenette shook her head slightly.

“Not yet, but they should arrive by the end of this week.”

“Don’t worry, Marinette. They would be fools to not accept you.” Kagami stated, noticing the slight grimace that presented itself on her friend’s face. She tried to be more empathizing to the emotions of others, especially her friends. She wanted to let others know she wasn’t emotionless or uncaring. It was still hard for her to notice when her friends were upset or realize when her words sometimes seemed a little harsh, but it was still a work in process.

Baby steps.

“Besides, I haven’t met anybody as devoted and as talented as you. I am telling you, they will accept.”

Marinette smiled in gratitude.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” By then, the waiter came back with their orders, a simple hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream topped with chopped chocolate for Marinette and hot chocolate made of almond milk with whipped cream on top of it for Kagami. Marinette didn’t dislike the hot chocolate, it was really good, but growing up in a bakery meant a lot of homemade hot chocolate. And there was no hot chocolate in Paris that could ever top her mother’s. None.

Alas, what mattered was that she got to enjoy some quality time with her busy friend.

The two spent the next half an hour talking about anything that happened to them that the other doesn’t know about yet, bringing up what they saw on the internet, Marinette sharing the funny stories that happen with her customers, Kagami sharing her stories from fencing and business meetings, generally the two of them bonding over a cup of hot chocolate.

“Wait, it’s in two days? And you are not prepared yet?” Marinette giggled nervously. Was she supposed to prepare something?

“Well, I really don’t know what I should prepare for. I’ve never been to a wedding before.” She paused, suddenly looking lost in thought. “Maybe once. When I was a child… Hm..”

Kagami sighed.

“You said you are going to be a bridesmaid, no?” Marinette snapped out of her memory lane and nodded. “Bridesmaids are usually the ones to take care of the bride. Help her dress up, do her makeup and hair if there is no hairdresser hired for it. They are the pillars supporting the bride on the special occasion. Although… Are there any other bridesmaids?”

“Well, there are two other bridesmaids, with my mother being the maid of honor.” She nodded

“Then I guess they must’ve been the ones to help her plan the wedding and everything before the wedding. You could ask the bride yourself what is actually expected of you, but that’s up to you.” She took a sip of her beverage, finishing the cup. “Also, didn’t you tell me you were staying the night there with the other guests?”

A look of realization passed by the pigtailed girl’s face.

 Then horror.

 “I NEED TO PACK, DON’T I.”

[masterlist]

[katnissmellarkkk]

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.

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About the First Season of--

Salutations random people on the internet who most likely won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

When I first saw the sneak peek of--

...I...didn't...think it would be anything all that special. I love animation, and I love superheroes, so it would go without saying that I would love an animated series about superheroes. But the animation looked a little too stiff for my liking, and aside from featuring J.K. Simmons, there wasn't anything grabbing me when it comes to this show.

Then I heard some s**t goes down at the end of episode one. So, letting my curiosity get the better of me, I binged the entire series in a day to see what the fuss was about. And, um...Yeah. Holy s**t.

This is a series that will very much make you uncomfortable in all the right ways. However, it is a gigantic gorefest at times, so if you get queasy after a single drop of blood, DON'T WATCH THIS SHOW! Trust me, you will not be prepared for what this series has to offer.

At the same time, I highly recommend you watch this series before reading this review. I'm going to spoil major plot points and characters so I can appropriately discuss what I think about the season, so trust me when I say you should click away if you haven't watched it yet. It's one of those series that are better to go in as blind as possible. You can call it a cheap way to appeal to shock value, but I call it one of the best reasons why--

...Is a contender for best-animated series of the decade--That bit with the title card isn't going away anytime soon, is it?

WHAT I LIKE

The Guardians of the Globe vs. The Mauler Twins: This is the best possible way for the series to begin. The first fight scene is bright, colorful, and kinda fun. Thus setting the ultimate expectation subversion in making audiences think that will be the series staple. However, just because it has the energy of a harmless superhero fight, there is a sense of intensity as the Guardians give their all in saving others. Like that moment with Darkwing (Not the duck) as he rescues that woman without hesitation, despite knowing he might die because of it. Or Green Ghost, who just barely rescues all those civilians from that falling debris. It shows that you don't need intense scenes of violence to make a fight scene thrilling to watch.

Diversity Wins: I don't know how diverse the comics are compared to the show, but I'm impressed with how inclusive this series is. So many members of the main cast are people of color, with the main lead being half-Korean. And it's not just different races that the series shines a light on, as we also get the rare, but very much welcomed, animated male gay character. Who's thankfully isn't cliched in ten ways to Sunday...for the most part. It really does seem like writers are starting to grow up and that it's better to be as inclusive as possible instead of pretending certain people don't exist for the sake of "convenience." It might not solve oppression in general, but it certainly makes certain people feel better, even if it is briefly.

Mark Grayson: Mark is a pretty solid super-protagonist if you ask me. Sure, at first, he comes across as whiney...and even more so in later episodes, but he's really an endearing character at times. Mark nails the role of the relatable everyman that's also inspirational with his determination since he never gives up until beaten to the inch of his life. Seriously, while he might not entirely be--

...I guess that bit with the title card really isn't going away.

Anyways, while he might not entirely be invulnerable in the literal sense, he is very much so in the figurative sense. Mark, in so many ways, refuses to call quits once he finally gets the hang of being a superhero, which is what makes him so inspirational. Plus, it's funny seeing how much of a rookie he can be to the gig at times. Mark is far from a perfect lead but is still charming to a fault, and it's nice seeing him grow more heroic each episode. I hope to see him develop more in future seasons, as he has the potential to be ranked higher up as one of my favorite superheroes (it's hard to compete with Spider-Man and Batman, but he'll make me consider it).

Debbie Grayson: This is almost what I expect a mother and wife of superheroes would be. 

Your son is constantly crash landing in your yard? Tell him to knock it off because he's past his curfew. 

Your husband disappeared into another dimension to fight off invaders? Shrug it off and expect that he'll be late for dinner.

It's a ton of fun to watch, and I adore how supportive she is of Mark, despite how much danger he could be in as a superhero. But, what really endears me with Debbie is her complicated feelings with Omni-Man. There's not a doubt in my mind that she loved him with her whole heart, but she also isn't an idiot. She is quick to pick up how unheroic her husband can be at times, often scolding him for it when necessary. And when she finally starts investigating if he really did kill the Guardians, I love that she instantly comes up with every single plausible excuse she can, despite knowing the truth. Because she believes that she knows who Omni-Man is and refuses any possibility that he might be a supervillain. So when she finds out that there really is no other explanation and hearing him call her a pet (big ouch when that happened), you wanna know what she does? She cries. Not because the man she loved is gone forever, but because the idea of him is. And it's that level of emotional devastation that comes from those complicated emotions that make me think Debbie Grayson is the most complex and endearing character on the show. And I. Will. Stand by that.

Seeing the Guardians of the Globe on their down time: Wow, what a cute collection of scenes that are charming as much as they are heartwarming! A set of scenes that show how human these characters are with their close relationships with friends and family! I sure hope it's not followed up with a brutal emotional gut-punch of a scene that will be even more devastating after thinking back on these! Especially with that bit with Martian Man and the little girl, cause OOO-WEE, would THAT tear me up inside!

Omni Man destroying the Guardians of the Globe:...I'd follow through on my joke here, but holy s**t.

That's really the best way I can describe all of this. It is a brutal, I repeat, BRUTAL scene that will stick with you hours after watching it. Not only that, but it's one of the few instances when I was damn near speechless because I couldn't think of anything else to say other than, "Holy s**t." The only time another superhero property did that was Avengers: Infinity War, except with that, the only difference is that the characters come back. Here, except for The Immortal, the Guardians stay dead! There's no magic amulet or alternate versions from another dimension. No, they die and never come back. Thus setting up how serious the show can be. Because if these superheroes can stay dead, then so can others.

Plus, what makes it more impactful is how throughout the entire fight, there was a glimpse of hope that the Guardians can beat Omni-Man. I heard he got nerfed for the sake of drama, and I approve of that decision. Because if he was really--

...If he was really unbeatable, then the fight doesn't have weight to it. There wouldn't be a point in rooting for these characters to win when we already know they're going to lose. But, by showing there's a chance that they could win, it becomes all the more intense watching the fight and even more tragic seeing them lose. It is a masterpiece of a battle that proves once and for all: Batman is right. You need contingency plans.

Omni Man: J. Jonah Jameson has become the one thing he hates the most: A masked MENACE...Ok, I know Omni-Man doesn't wear a mask, so the joke doesn't work as well as it could. But it was served to me on a silver platter, damn it! I had to take it!

In all seriousness, though, Omni-Man might give Homelander a run for his money on best evil Superman. Because while Homelander might be terrifying in his own right with his style of evil, Omni-Man takes it a step up a notch with the mystery behind WHY he killed the Guardians of the Globe. We know right away that there's something off with him, but up until that point, we see multiple instances of Omni-Man doing the right thing rather than the wrong. Sure, he might come off as cold when interacting with people, but so does Batman and other great superheroes in comics. That doesn't mean he's evil. So when he does do something so incredibly heinous, we're left with this mystery as to why. Because there has to be a reason for it all, right? Like, maybe mind control or his family was threatened. Something and anything that means he was forced into killing the noblest of people. So when it turns out that his actions were intentional, it is already pretty devastating. But when we find out why he does these things, it paints how truly evil Omni-Man is, given how little respect he has for human life.

Plus, as terrifying as Homelander is, Omni-Man is ten times more of an engaging villain. With Homelander, what you see is what you get: A narcissist with a god complex. For Omni-Man, it's more or less the same thing, but it's something fed to him because of the conditioning from his planet. There is a tiny, molecule-sized part of him that genuinely cares about others. It doesn't change what he does, nor does it mean he deserves forgiveness (far from it), but it hints that maybe he's not evil because of his own ego. It's because of how he's trained to be. And judging by his pained expressions from Mark's words and the single tear he sheds when leaving everything behind, there's a chance that he might be willing to fight back that mentality.

Or he will stay evil, and that he'll return to do worse things in the future. I don't know. I haven't read the comics. But I feel like I don't need to read anything to tell you all that Omni-Man is up there as one of the most intriguing comic book villains of all time, and I can't wait to see what happens with him next.

This show is f**king Violent: I mean, I refer you back to that scene where Omni-Man destroys the Guardians of the Globe. But, unlike other shows that use violence to force that mature rating, I feel as though In--

...Title card. You were cute the first time, but now your novelty has quickly worn thin.

Anyways, I feel as though this show...uses gore more appropriately. More often than not, death and carnage get treated as a literal joke in adult cartoons because people are sick bastards, I guess. But with...the current series I'm talking about, it all has an impact. No one dies or gets mangled for the sake of shock value or for a laugh. Instead, every instance of this type of violence is to either make a point, set the tone, or prove just how dangerous a specific character is. It makes...the series more mature than most adult cartoons you'll find because it actually brings a worthy discussion for its violence rather than milking it to give the illusion of maturity. And I gotta respect the writers for doing that.

Cecil: This man is basically Nick Fury if he was overpowered but in a good way. There is just something about a man who knows superheroes are needed in the world but also trusts a "hero" like Omni-Man as far as he can throw him. Not only does Cecil have contingency plans for his contingency plans, but the guy also knows to send the right heroes out for the exact missions that require them. Plus, a man is an instant badass when he's stone-faced about a demon saying he'll go somewhere worse than hell and is calm when being face-to-face with an angry Omni-Man.

I don't make the rules. I just abide by them.

The title card gets bloodier with each episode: This is just a really cool gimmick. It proves how intense this show can really be and how the stakes get higher and higher with each installment. Also, I like to think the amount of blood that splashes over the title card reflects how brutal the episode will be, especially with episode eight, 'cause holy hell.

The plot structure: The way the story works is very similar to how a comic book series handles its overarching narrative. Even though the writers begin a new arc that continues for a handful of issues, the overall main plot still develops in the background of the current adventure the hero goes through. That's basically how--

>Intense inhale<

>Calm exhale<

That's basically how THIS SHOW operates. Each episode can be seen as its own story that's given a ton of room to develop with its forty-five-minute runtime (which blew my f**king mind when I started binging it). Despite that, there's still a great sense of continuity. Everything involving Omni-Man and the mystery behind his murder of the Guardians gets fleshed out throughout the season, even when it takes the background of Mark's escapades. It really does feel like sitting down and taking the time to read an entire volume of comics, which I like to believe is the intention. After all, what's the point of making a series about superheroes if you don't make it feel like a comic book at least once?

Dark Blood: I desire a series based on this character alone. I know it's probably just Hellboy, but I want it. 

The idea of a demon solving murder crimes to work off his debt in Hell is too much of a remarkable concept to strictly be a c-plot in one series. Give Dark Blood a spin-off, damn it!

The Realistic Portrayal of a Superhero world: Unlike certain superhero properties--*cough* DC *cough*--it's--

>Huff<

>Puff<

>HUFF<

>PUFF<

>HUFF<

It's. This. F**KING. SHOW! That really does an excellent job at portraying how much it would suck to live in a world of superheroes. Sure, you got the cool battles and awe-inspiring heroes with incredible powers, but do you know what else you get? Hundreds upon thousands of people dying from the very threats those heroes fight against. Not to mention all the realistic physics that come from people like Mark trying to save others. Just look at how mangled that old woman looked when he attempted to help her. It, uh...It sure did not look great. Don't get me wrong, I love superheroes and the worlds they live in. But when watching a show like...this one, it really makes me appreciate how I don't live in those worlds with them.

It’s Still Funny: This is something I appreciate the most. When most superhero shows go for the realistic approach, they go with the doom and gloom route, making everything so melodramatic about how serious the world is. But here's the thing: Superheroes are f**king stupid.

Don't tell me they're not because they are. Superheroes have cornball hero names, bright costumes, and logos on their foreheads, chests, belts, and what-have-you. Taking a superhero too seriously is the worst mistake you could make, which is why I love the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Say what you want about Marvel having "too many jokes," but at least they know it's for the best to laugh at themselves and embrace the weirdness. It's something similar with...you know what. Because while the series tells a serious and realistic story about superheroes, it's still a story about superheroes. So it tells some jokes and some pretty funny ones at that. Because while it's essential to include some drama in a story such as the one in...you know what, it's just as important to never forget to have some fun.

“Earth is not yours to conquer.”: Such a great line that gains an even greater meaning once we fully know who Omni-Man is. The main creditor for how effective it is goes to J.K. Simmons for making the line sound explicit yet implicit at the same time.

Allen the Alien: ...It is an absolute crime that this character only has about six minutes of screentime. Allen is such a bro, partially because of Seth Rogan's performance, that I would honestly be upset if he doesn't show up more often in later seasons. Seriously, bring him back for more.

The Mauler Twins: Thankfully, these characters get as much attention as they deserve. The banter between the Mauler Twins is always entertaining, often being the comedic highlights at times. On top of being funny, they also work as efficient villains who can come across as threatening at times.

But what I love most of all about these two is the explanation behind the cloning process. The reasoning of why neither character remembers which one is the cone is a brilliant idea that I'm surprised no one else did in the past (to my knowledge). It also provides some excellent fruit for thought in wondering if it really is better to live your life not knowing if you're a clone or not. The whole thing is great to watch, and it makes me really glad for their inclusion...too bad they had to be forced into a story that makes a character look like a reckless superhero and an inconsiderate jackass to his friend. Seriously, what was up with that?

“That Actually Hurt”: This just might be my favorite episode of the first season. Machine Head is both equally hilarious and devious, Titan might just be my favorite character due to how intriguing his allegiances and motivations are, that final fight was the perfect amount of brutal, and we get the biggest hint of the man Omni-Man really is. Having him simply watching Mark instead of flying in to help him actually shocked me the first time seeing it. It's not until we learn what a Viltrumite really is that it becomes clear as to why. He doesn't care about saving his son but instead seeing Mark reach the same potential Omni-Man did during that smash fest the planet went through to reach perfection. And something tells me he felt more disappointment than sadness after seeing his son get nearly killed by Tony the Tiger (I know he has an actual name...but this is funnier to me). It's such a solid moment with great implications that just so happens to exist in an even greater episode.

Eve deciding to just help people for the heck of it: I actually love this idea more for the potential it has rather than what actually happens so far. Because the main reason why heroes don't fly around and solve every little minute problem people have is that they need to learn how to act without help. If you suddenly make food appear out of thin air or stopping forest fires, you're doing good, but there's also potential harm that comes from it. I think back to that episode of The Powerpuff Girls, where the townspeople are so idiotic and complacent with having their heroes solve every problem that they really can't think or act for themselves. A similar thing can happen with Eve if she's not careful. Even worse, if she keeps trying to end famine for farmers, because she might get into a Supergirl situation with people building a cult around her. And, you know, that's not going to be fun.

But again, that's just the potential that this presents. We--Or the people who haven't read the comics--don't know if Eve will actually face this issue. Regardless, we still get some solid moments that proves just how much Eve is a true hero in this series as she has no other motive to help people other than she just wants to. And I actually think that's pretty cool.

The Immortal’s rematch: I gotta hand it to the guy. Not a second after being brought back to life, and The Immortal's already flying off to get revenge on the bastard who killed his closest friends in the world. Or, globe, I guess.

I respect that, to be honest.

(As a bonus, The Immortal causing Omni-Man's eyes to become bloodshot adds to how evil he'll be in the last episode)

Mark trying to snap his dad out of mind-control: Oh, I felt that.

I'm pretty sure we all felt that.

Ow...Big ow.

The Train Scene: ...This is the most horrific thing I have seen in entertainment. Seriously, while Omni-Man annihilating the Guardians left me speechless, this is another level. Because him using Mark's body to kill a train full of people ramming into them, leaving Mark all the more helpless to stop it, makes a scene that is so...so hard for me to describe how effectively f**ked up it is. It's one of those moments where just by seeing it, you know why it's awful in all the right ways. And I will never forget the look of shock and horror on my face when it reflected onto my laptop's screen after the scene briefly cut to black soon after the carnage. Because if that doesn't explain how unmerciful this moment is, I don't know what will.

Saving Mark after the fight: I really love this because as it flashes between still images of people carrying Mark away after his brutal fight with Omni-Man, it really feels like you're reading a comic from panel to panel. It’s pretty neat. I won’t lie.

WHAT I DISLIKE

The Animation isn’t that great: Now, in terms of action, the animation is fantastic. You feel the impact of each attack, there are some creative uses of powers, and the gore is better implemented because it's all animated. As for everything else...yeah, it kinda sucks. Movements are a little stiff at times, the CGI backgrounds could use a bit more polish, and don't get me started on the CGI crowds of people. I understand the shortcuts that need to be taken to make everything else more effective, but man, this series needed a little more time in the oven before being shown to everyone. It's never too bad, but it can be pretty distracting at times.

Amber: F**k Amber. Just f**k her. Everything people tell you that is wrong with her is one-hundred percent on point. She is easily one of the worst love interests, and to me, it has everything to do with the fact that she knows Mark is--

...That she knows Mark is--

...

...

...ThatsheknowsMarkisInvinci--

--BECAUSE IT INVALIDATES ANY POINT SHE HAS, GOSH DANGIT! I don't give a single S**T if she's upset that he's late all the time! If Amber was always unaware of it, then I would understand. But having her know means that she thinks her issues are more important than Mark, oh, I don't know, SAVING THE PLANET! I mean, the girl helps feed the homeless! You would think she would understand.

But fine. Maybe Amber's just upset that Mark's lying to her. Sure. That's understandable...BUT WHAT THE F**K IS UP WITH HER BLOWING UP IN HIS FACE FOR NOT HELPING ANYBODY AT THE COLLEGE WHEN SHE KNOWS HE'S HELPING EVERYBODY!? Even if it's her giving Mark one last chance to tell her the truth (which is a mile of a stretch, and you know it), did she really expect him to reveal his secret with tons of people watching? That is a crazy expectation that no one should live up to!

Amber is quite possibly the worst thing about this show. She was fine at first, and her chemistry with Mark was on point, but MAN, did she get worse later on.

And if I see one mother f**ker calling me a racist because I don't like this character who just so happens to be black...I'm going to be upset, not gonna lie. Because that is a cheap shot to dismiss any criticism, especially since her race has NOTHING to do with why people hate her...Or, at least, most people.

Edit (5/27/2021): Disregard the above. The long and short is that I don’t like Amber. She just doesn’t sit right with me for the reasons that her anger towards Mark just never felt entertaining to me in comparision to everything else. But saying her thoughts and arguements are invalid is not cool, and I’m sorry to both any readers who are black or especially female who would be upset by this.

Rex-splode: I understand the point behind Rex. He's a character who we're supposed to hate, so it becomes so much more satisfying seeing others s**t on him. But those characters are hard to get right if you’re not careful. Make them too irritating, then any suffering they go through will seem too little. Make them not annoying enough, and their punishments can be too harsh. Rex fits into the "too irritating" category. It's satisfying to see Monster Girl wreck his s**t after he started commenting how ineffective she might be, but with what he pulled with Dupli-Kate, I feel as though he might deserve worse. Although I will admit Rex gets slightly better in later episodes, showing at least a smidgen of character development. But I don't think it's enough to make his a**holeness worth it. Still, I hope he at least becomes above decent in the next few seasons, which is way more than what I can say for Amber.

(Seriously, writers, if she just disappears without an ounce of an explanation in the season premiere, I won't question it. You have my word.)

Edit: I no longer agree with what I crossed out, but I won’t delete it either. I want people to know the mistake I made so I can prove that I changed in the future.

Robot cloning himself to be with Monster Girl: ...Nope! 

Nope!

Changed my mind.

I am NOT touching that.

I will touch a lot of things, but I will not touch--That came out wrong.

Please forget you read anything.

Thank you, and goodnight.

Let’s move on

Transitioning to the title card: Here it is! The nitpickiest of all nitpicks! But, seeing how it happens in every episode, meaning that the writers have no choice but to commit to it, means it's one of those things that viewers are forced to get used to. And boy, is the transition to the title card hard to get used to! Oh, you thought it was annoying how it kept happening in this review? Well...fair enough. But trust me when I say it's much more aggravating in the show.

The funny thing is, I had no problem the first time it happened. It was a cute way to introduce the character as well as the title of the series. But having that be the basis for transitioning to the title card every time was a gimmick that got old real quick. Especially since every time that a character says the word--

--it always feels forced. What's even more annoying is that sometimes it interrupts characters as they're saying invin--

LIKE! F**KING! THAT! Because interrupting someone before they say something is one thing, but doing so as they're saying it shows a sense of bad timing. Not even that, because this is something that I feel like could have been the easiest to change in the series by having someone go, "Hey, maybe we should edit out this single second."

It's laziness that doesn't happen often, but it still grinds my gears a bit. Plus, is there really no other smoother transition the writers could come up with? Did they really believe this is the best way to do it?

Think, writers! THINK!

It's fine to have a gimmick, but this is one that really shouldn't have any follow-through on.

-------------

That's about all the issues I have with the show. It's far from perfect, but still, an A- is pretty impressive work. The stuff that this series does right not only outnumbers the mistakes but also heavily outweighs them. Besides, no show in the history of creativity has ever been perfect in its first season. There are always dents that need to get buffed out and improve upon for the subsequent seasons to come. Only then can a series truly be Invincible from all criticism.

...

...Oh, sure. 

SURE!

NOW it lets me say it!

GOSH, DANGIT, I HATE THAT TITLE CARD!

[bastardtetsu]

critical thinking | ch①

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader

genre: college au, enemies to lovers, tsundere!reader, slow burn

wc: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, being a theatre major 

※ mlist | ● ② ③ ④

you knew it was a dumb bitch move to procrastinate on your science requirement.

trying to schedule gen-eds around the demanding requirements of your theatre degree was already a nightmare, and your aversion to maths and sciences makes it even more difficult to find classes that both fit in your schedule AND don’t make you want to actively drop out of school. you weren’t sure why you thought putting off your one and only science credit until your final semester was going to solve any of that. so, you couldn’t be shocked when your only option to graduate on time ended up being 9am chemistry 1. on a monday, no less.

the first class is just as bad as you expect. the lecture drags on for ages, and as much as you will your sleepy morning brain to wrap your head around the concepts being thrown at you, no amount of caffeine, color-coded notes, or mental gymnastics can ford the river of brain-muddling frustration standing between you and a passing grade - the one you need to graduate.

panic begins to set in as you visualize all the hard work you put into your degree rendered useless, all because of a class that doesn’t even have to do with your field of study. who decided there had to be a science requirement anyway? i don’t need fucking chemistry to get a theatre degree??

“if you’re having trouble with anything,” your professor announces, bringing your attention back to the lecture that's finally wrapping up, “the tutoring center on campus is a great resource. i also hold office hours at the times listed on the syllabus. that’s our time for today folks, have a good week.”

you check the syllabus - all of the professor’s office hours conflict with your other classes, of course. asking your classmates is out of the question, seeing as you’re the lone arts major in a sea of STEM and pre-med. as annoying as it is to have to add another item to your schedule, tutoring seems like the only option if you want any hope of graduating. luckily you have some time before your next class, so you pack up your things and head for the tutoring center.

you pray that a decent chem tutor is available during any of your limited free time as you approach the lady at the desk of the tutoring office. she informs you of several with hours later in the week, none of which align with your schedule, and one who is available for the next hour. you figure tutoring right after class isn’t a bad deal - especially considering it’s your only option. the woman gives you a classroom number and a name - kuroo tetsuro - and you set out.

it doesn’t take you long to find the right classroom, but you aren’t prepared for the sight that is waiting for you there. a strong jawline and a mess of black hair that appears to stick up on its own catch your eye first as he taps away at his phone screen, his bored slouch doing nothing to hide his imposing height.

“um... hi, kuroo?” you say tentatively. his eyes glance up from his phone, slightly startled.

“oh, hey,” he responds, sitting up a bit, “you here for tutoring?”

“i am,” you reply with a half smile, “y/n.”

“kuroo. nice to meet you, y/n,” he pulls out the chair next to him as an invitation, “what year are you?”

“i’m a senior,” you say as you make your way over and sit down, “i’m in chem 1.” he definitely seems taller up close, even sitting down.

“chem 1? as a senior?” he asks derisively, his lips curling into a smirk. embarrassment and annoyance shoot through your chest.

“i’m a theatre major, alright,” you respond dryly, “i’m just trying to get my science credit and go.”

“left it ‘til the last minute, huh?” that smirk is still on his face.

“yeah, not my best decision,” you reply, trying not to let your annoyance seep through, “but i’m just trying to pass this class so i can graduate.”

“well, hopefully i can help with that,” he says smugly, “i may be a lowly business major, but i’m pretty good with chem if i do say so myself.”

a business major. of course. you’re familiar with the future capitalist machinery of the business school from your limited experience with the frat parties they so densely populated. needless to say, the impression was not good.

“so what do you need help with?”

“um...” you pondered, “all of it?” he snickered.

“you’re gonna have to be more specific if you wanna get anywhere.” his tone is dripping with amusement. is he trying to piss you off?

“ugh,” you let out an exasperated grunt, suddenly averse to showing any kind of weakness to this jerk. you pull out your notebook and flip to the page where you had attempted to take notes earlier. “this stuff.”

he leans over to take a look at your notes, and as his eyes scan the page you suddenly notice his smell - some fancy-smelling cologne with like, sandalwood or some shit - and his strong but elegant bone structure. i could cut myself on those cheekbones, you think.

“these notes are terrible.”

annnndddd he ruined it.

“well i can’t exactly take good notes if i have no clue what’s going on,” you counter, “isn’t that what you’re supposed to help me with?”

“i can try,” he says with an amused grin, “but I’ve never seen someone struggle this much with the basics on day one.”

now, you could put up with a lot of shit, but the one thing you cannot stand is being condescended to. especially not by some egotistical capitalist fucker who barely knows you.

“look,” you say pointedly, holding back the urge to throat punch him right then and there, “i’m really busy, and i just wanna pass this class, so if you could help me without being a dick about it i’d really appreciate it.”

“aw, but where’s the fun in that?”

his lips twist back into that patronizing smirk - he’s definitely trying to get a rise out of you.

“fuck off,” you say with a roll of your eyes, refusing to take his bait, “are you gonna teach me chemistry or not?”

he chuckles quietly again, thoroughly entertained. “sure. only because I’m so kind, and i could use the challenge.”

you scoff, but hold yourself back from retorting. you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

at first, it’s excruciating. you loathe this douchey business bro getting off on being condescending while explaining chemistry to you like you don’t understand anything - which, to be fair, you don’t. but that somehow makes you resent him more.

granted, once you actually get down to business, kuroo is actually a pretty good tutor. he’s not actively annoying when he’s actually trying to teach you something, and he’s surprisingly patient and good at breaking things down. dude is smart, there’s no denying that.

nevertheless, even when he’s not being snarky, every correction he makes seems to fluster you more. you hate looking stupid in front of others, and something about kuroo seems to amplify that feeling by a thousand. you blame his attitude.

as you fumble trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar numbers, symbols, & formulas, you’re simultaneously attempting to maintain a shred of dignity in front of this man who clearly thinks of you as the dumbest bitch on the planet. and the more you struggle, the more you worry he’s right.

“seeeee? i told you it wasn’t that hard!” he hums as you finish off another homework question you’d been struggling with. he can’t seem to praise you without being patronizing as fuck, either. you look up from your page momentarily to shoot him a glare.

frustration and embarrassment simmer inside of you with each of his snide remarks, but you hold yourself together and divert the attention back to studying each time. the restraint it takes not to deck him right in his pretty face is honestly deserving of a nobel peace prize.

“not bad,” he muses as you finally finish off the last of your homework, “and it only took you two and a half hours!”

“i’m floored,” you deadpan. your brain is too exhausted to formulate a more clever comeback. then you suddenly realize - “hang on... has it actually been two and a half hours? i thought you were only available for one??”

“technically,” he shrugs, “that’s when my tutoring hours end. but I wasn’t doing anything after, and you seemed like you needed the extra help.” that shitty smile is back. you can feel your blood boiling, but at the same time that... is actually pretty nice of him?

“ah... th-thanks,” you mumble, still resistant to showing any signs of weakness - much less gratitude - to the messy-haired prick.

“so, should i expect you back next week?” his stare reminds you of a cat sizing up its prey.

“uh... maybe,” you say. you honestly don’t have an answer yet. “i have to run though, i’ve got another class to get to.”

“don’t be a stranger,” he grins, “you’re gonna need a lot of help if you wanna graduate.”

you shoot him another glare as you swing your bag over your shoulder.

“i’ll think about it.”

he's still smirking at you as you walk out the door.

—

as much as you’d like to deny it, there’s not much to think about. none of the other chem tutors are available when you are, and there’s no way you’re passing the class without the extra help. and, as insufferable as he is, kuroo did help you get through your entire first week of homework successfully.

of course, you still resent having to rely on some nasty ass, pompous business major to mansplain chemistry to you every week so you can graduate. well, technically it’s not mansplaining since you don’t actually know anything about chemistry. and you technically also asked him to do it. but god, does he have to be such a dick about it??

it’s just an hour or two once a week, you reassure yourself, you can put up with it.

this is easier said than done, of course. the following monday, you begrudgingly approach the same classroom, empty except for one (1) chickenhead douchebag, who promptly stares you down with the most shiteating smile you’ve ever seen.

“oya oya~ look who decided to come back!” he croons.

“don’t flatter yourself, it’s not like I had much of a choice,” you respond flatly. why is he still looking at me with that dumb expression?

“true, there’s no way you’re passing on your own.”

“listen,” you reply pointedly, “some people have better things to do than worry about how many neutrons are on hydrogen or whatever”

“hydrogen doesn’t have any neutrons.”

“COOL!!!! i just want to graduate!!”

“well then you’re gonna need to know that hydrogen doesn’t have any neutr-”

“ALRIGHT, i got it,” you huff, “can you just… help me figure out this balancing equations shit? WITHOUT being an asshole about it?”

“hmm… sorry, i can only accept one request at a time.”

this is gonna be a long fucking semester.

a/n: eeeeee this is the first time i’ve actually wholeheartedly attempted to write a fic in lord knows how long (possibly ever?? idk them memories repressed) and my first time posting my own writing so i hope y’all like it !! everybody who’s ready to see me trash talk k*roo t*tsuro say way ho