#my issues come from my grandma and he had different one so idk

[the-acid-pear]

Y'know I know it's hereditary and also a normal stress response (and I spent many years in hell itself) but I don't think eating a few whole bags of caramelos super acidos (super sour candies) (edición invierno) with my brother was a good idea either.

[artdcnaldson]

UGH ok twist my arm i guess!!!! as a little treat!!!! dr donaldson <3

so gynecologist art, yall, doctor donaldson. cat and i were in the dms TRUST. so art decides that he should probably have a backup plan, just in case tennis doesnt work out after college. he doesnt expect to actually need it because his tennis is going great, hes on track to go pro very soon. but JUST in case, he decides to use his good grades to study some kind of medicine. initially he had thought some kind of sports medicine, if nothing else then it would be good knowledge for himself down the line.

but after his grandma passes (not of a stroke) and he hears his family discussing how if only her gynecologist had paid better attention and taken her serious she might have lived longer (idk anything about medicine but probably some kind of cancer yknow?). anyway he sees that a his motivation and picks gynecology as his field. patrick absolutely teases him to death over it, "you're gonna be a pussy doctor? what so you just get to look at naked chicks all day? i'd quit tennis for that too". again he's not really expecting to need it, so he doesnt take it too hard. but he's kind of obviously the only guy in the course, and the girls all think he's kind of weird for wanting to pursue a field of medicine that isnt relevant to him. but after him telling the story about his grandmother they all coo and comfort him that its okey and they understand.

he does well in all his classes because he does truly find it interesting and wants to do his best to help women. but as he's getting ready to go pro, he has an accident on the court, as he's going to return a long ball he twists his ankle and takes a bad fall. his recovery is good, but his ankle will never be as it was before, and his chances of the big tennis dream slowly dies. and ultimately he's just unwilling to spend his life as a struggling tennis player, when he could be making a real difference.

now that he has his own practice he likes to tell that story to his new patients, especially the ones who seem tense with the fact that he's a man, who will be examining their most private area. it does well to ease their minds. hes been doing this for many years now, he enjoys the work, and the women who come to him are happy with his work. his patients are typically slightly older women, as they're not as phased by a male gynecologist, whereas most younger women arent as comfortable with the idea. he doesnt mind that, in fact he understands perfectly. honestly hes grateful for it, he fears the day he might have a patient whos just a bit too attractive and he'll have to struggle to keep his cool.

that day unfortunately comes sooner than he had hoped. its your first appointment with him after having him recommended by a friend, you had contacted him and told him how you were very unhappy with your current doctor and wanted to try something else. not having had a male doctor before, except like your dentist, youre very nervous for the appointment. not knowing what to expect from it, or how seriously he will take your issues. out of nervous habit youve gotten ready for the appointment as if it were a date rather than a clinical exam. showered, shaved, cute panties, hair and makeup done. its all totally unnecessary, but the moment you see him for the first time you thank the divine for looking your absolute best. GOD hes so hot. far too hot to be a doctor. lets just say that he wears scrubs because theyre so sexy, and they truly are criminally flattering on him. he sits on his chair, typing away as youre lead into the room by an assistant. as soon as he looks up and asks you to have a seat with him, you both know youre screwed. the tension is immediately noticeable as you discuss your reason for coming in, just a routine check because your last doctor wouldnt do it thorough enough and didnt listen enough to your issues.

he leaves the room while you strip off and leave your clothes in a neat little pile, panties clearly on top in the hope that he'll see them and think theyre cute. and he does, in fact his eyes keep fluttering to them as hes getting ready for the exam. he has to adjust his chair a little lower in the hopes that you cant see that he's getting hard. meanwhile youre going from soaking to sopping wet as you watch him put on the latex gloves, snapping them against his wrist.

he can tell that you're tense, but as its your first appointment with a male gynecologist, he assumes thats the reason, and not the fact that youre mortifyingly wet. he tries to calm your nerves by telling you what he'll be doing, he sits right in front of you on his chair and tells you how first he'll examine externally, just checking for anything irregular. then an internal exam with the same purpose, and then finally a physical exam where he will just have to feel your tummy as well as your pelvis to ensure everything is as it should be. totally routine stuff, nothing out of the ordinary, if anything hes far more attentive and careful to make sure youre comfortable. but the way hes saying it, his voice and the way he's looking at you has you clenching your thighs shut and trying to keep yourself from making a puddle on the table.

as he gathers his tools he asks you to place your legs in the stirrups, he sees you struggling a little to get your right leg properly in place, he gently grabs your leg and helps you place it properly. goosebumps cover you leg as he pulls his hand away again. you can feel how wet you are as youre not totally exposed to him, dripping wet, youve been less wet when hooking up with people. this is just from interacting with him briefly, really its embarrassing. hes so sweet asking if everythings alright, and if he can do anything to help you relax. and after squeezing your eyes shut and holding your breath for a second you finally get out that you just feel like youre really wet, and youre not youre not sure why, this doesnt usually happen. hes so sweet, trying to reassure you, telling you its perfectly normal. its a natural response from your body, if anything its a sign that youre healthy!

hes not lying, he really does mean what hes saying, it is good and it is normal. but hes never seen anyone be quite this wet during an appointment in his office. youre soaked, its practically dripping onto the table and forming a puddle. if he was sporting a semi under the table he might have referred you to a different doctor. but youre so pretty he cant help himself.

he really does try his best to stay professional and not let his attraction crack through and distract from his work. but fuck youre so tight around his latex covered fingers when hes doing the exam. and you only squeeze down tighter when he tries to reassure you, tell you youre doing good. its making it hard for him to focus on the task at hand. it takes everything in him to keep his hands from drifting and moving to find those sweet spots inside of you. he doesnt have to deprive himself for long tho as he accidentally brushed against your gspot. his cheeks turn bright pink as he hears a tiny moan escape your lips. and youd been so good at keeping them in the whole time too. but this one couldnt be contained. he stays good, doesnt say anything, just carries on with his work. but he almost lets out a moan of his own as he sees the ring of cream gathered around his gloved fingers.

he takes his work very seriously and he doesnt take the idea of losing his medical license due to malpractice lightly, so he wouldnt be just giving in to his urges. his resolve breaking doent come lightly, its a big deal to him. he goes home that day and jerks off in the shower while thinking about you, he knows exactly what your pussy looks like, what it feels like, how soaking wet you got for him. he cums again in his bed and humps his mattress while dreaming about you. he wakes up and decided he needs to see you again. asks his assistant to set up another appointment with you. when he asks what for, he stutters and says something about needing to do some tests just to be sure of something. hes lying, obviously, but he needs to see you again. he cant stop thinking about your tight little cunt...

-🐞

ladybug your mind amazes me... <3

He can't risk medical malpractice, and he really is a good doctor, he loves his work, he wants to help people. And he's really never, ever reacted this way to a patient before, but god, he can't get you out of his mind.

So maybe he schedules a follow up for a week later. Maybe his heart is racing and his palms sweat when he walks into the examination room and sees you in the little fabric gown, hands in your lap, worrying your lip between your teeth.

He feels like a nervous teenager on a first date, not a fucking healthcare professional.

He listens to you speak about your concerns, walks through your test results from the week prior. Everything looks good, he says. Nothing felt abnormal, your body is working just how it's supposed to. Do you have any questions for me?

You shake your head, sweet and shy, aching for an excuse to get his hands on you again, but running low on things you can ask for.

[candeathbereal]

Astro observations

Placements included are Aries Mercury, Aries Sun, Aries Mars, Taurus Mars, Taurus Moon, and Gemini Mercury.

Aries Mercury

Alright you greedy fucks! Let's get into this. Like many Aries placements there are the general themes of independence, impulsivity, and chaos. I know I come off rude sometimes but that is only because I have said words in the wrong tone. Other times I’m actually trying to be rude. Here is my fun advice for people as a whole: Take a risk and be okay with someone not liking you. If one person doesn’t like you remember there is a dog that will love you more than that person ever could. Now if there are multiple people that actively dislike you, I got nothing. And even then if you're a earth mercury...are you really listening to a fire mercury? I usually get along well with earth placements but earth mercuries are a whole different thing bruh. Taurus mercuries are okay...unless you disagree with them and act like I do in an argument (with passion) because then you better hope their mars isn't in another fixed sign. Idk take what you can from that. I would say something about Virgo and Capricorn mercuries but I haven't really met too many. Plus most Virgo mercuries I have met also have a Leo sun and Taurus moon so it would be wrong of me to really say much about Virgo mercuries since Taurus and Leo placements (together) will dominant your shit most times. Anyways let's move onto the actually rest of the post.

Aries Sun

The pain of being a bad bitch. Lol idk that pain tho. Most post I have seen has labeled us as wild and childish. In actuality tho that is more likely Aries mars than Aries sun. I do wonder if the degree your sun is in affects the expression. It’s actually a moment cause Aries is exalted in the sun placement. I have an Aries sun at the 17th degree which is a Leo degree. Plus I have a Leo rising so I do wonder if that affected me in any way.

Aries Mars

Damn. I don’t have much to say besides please make sure to check on people after you get mad at them. Like it’s okay to feel anger and express it but idk sometimes people get hurt deeply by that expression. I don’t have too much experience with Aries mars people and Scorpio mars people. I can only go off by the two people I have met with either mars sign. Which are my grandma and my mom respectively. I will get into that another post so yeah sorry for the lack of stuff rn.

Taurus Moon

Indulgence. Depending on the sun sign there could be a lot of emotional repression from my experience. I love you guys…unless there is a Leo sun with the Taurus moon. Idk why but I’ve had so many issues with that combo. It isn’t because of the fixed sun fixed moon. My sister is a double Taurus, and my boyfriend is a Scorpio sun Taurus moon. And I love them both very much. I get along great even with other fixed sign sun and moon combos. Leo sun and Taurus moon however…nah.

Honestly I haven't figured out why I'm so erked by Leo sun and Taurus moon. I mean I'm a Leo rising and my MC is in Taurus so I feel like I could be missing something. Anyways Taurus moons are great. I have a lot of respect for you guys and your ability to just defend yourselves when someone says something about you that you know isn't the right thing about you. Even if everyone else in the room agrees with that person your ass is still going "I am not like that and that is that". Even with a prominent libra placements this seems to be a common thing among the Taurus moons I have met. I know someone with a Libra sun, Venus, and Mars and they will stand their ground when it comes to things being placed onto them and their character when they know it isn't right. At first I thought "maybe their Scorpio mercury has something to help with this" but then I remember my dad.

He has a Pisces sun and mercury with a Taurus moon and mars and an Aries Venus I think. If you are just arguing with him on something he is willing to listen to your point and I enjoyed that the most while I was growing up. As an fire dominant person arguing is my way to be vulnerable with people. If I don't trust that you will listen to me or if I don't want to be close to you emotionally, I will just not talk to you. And when I disagree with something you said, I will not just continue on with my day because I don't want to listen to stuff that bores me aka you. Now back to what I was saying about my dad. He and I enjoyed arguing about anything and everything but if I felt overwhelmed by shit he would literally comfort me. So he is okay with stopping a disagreement. Now I bring that up because I have seen him argue with other people and when they try to place a character trait onto him or someone he cared about, he will stand his ground if you are wrong in his eyes. I don't know if that made any sense but honestly that is the only way I can think of describing the thing that I have noticed about Taurus moons.

Taurus Mars

Sometimes I wonder what you guys feel because I can’t really guess what you guys are feeling fully. Especially if you have a mutable moon. Now the two Taurus mars I can think of is my dad and my brother. They both have two Taurus placements each (my dad as said previously has a Taurus moon as well as a Taurus mars, and my brother has a Taurus sun with his Taurus mars). Personally I rarely saw my dad angry but I have seen my brother angry when we were younger. My brother would get red in the face from yelling especially when arguing with our sister. Two Taurus suns with fixed mars refusing to back down...surprising. Now he has calmed down a fuck ton since then. Luckily he doesn't have to be as angry as he used to be.

Gemini Mercury

My besties no matter what you say I will accept the foolishness. Oh and if you have a Gemini Venus as well bruh. I will be chaotic. It is a simple fact that Gemini placements tend to make me go feral, just pure chaos. I think sag mercuries have the same effect on me but I never know how to deal with them properly. Gemini Mercury tho…bitch I’m swinging off that one loose tile on the ceiling…that makes no sense but it doesn’t matter right now. Sometimes I worry about you guys’ mental state but idk maybe you have daddy issues I won’t judge.

[megers67]

Just saw the new Ghostbusters movie!

It was fun, but I definitely have... Notes. I will put them below a Read More so that you can scroll past if you want.

First off, forgive me for forgetting basically everyone's names.

Okay so my main gripe is the plot. The machine that extracted Phoebe's soul to make her a ghost had a huge leap in exposition. For one thing, the only thing close to it that was mentioned had to do with possessions. Not your own native soul. Also, there wasn't any mention of a timer. Not only that, but was that REALLY the actual plan from Ice Dude and Melody? Like... There HAD to have been better ways to accomplish that. Also Melody had a moment where she was like "but does it have to be her?" There was never anything given to show why it did though?? Yeah, why DID it have to be her? If there was anybody who it would have been, specifically, it would have been Firebender.

Also, it felt like it was Phoebe's story with a Ghostbusters backdrop and on top of that, she's reckless, sure, but not like... That?? Even though her actions let out the Ice Dude and she was betrayed by Melody, she didn't really have any consequences for it? Like... There should have been something about her being too young actually coming into play. But no, Phoebe gets a pass I guess.

So here's a SparkNotes version of my ideal version of this, including maybe some minor things that weren't immediately in this rant and wouldn't have been an issue if the rest of it was fine. Also, if I have things slightly out of order or forgotten my memory sucks so that's likely my bad there. Rearrange or insert as necessary. The point is these are basic ideas.

First, opening largely the same, the prologue and the dragon spirit chase. They get chewed out and go on another call and it's to the room the prologue was in and find a lot of ghosts. Opens the mystery into Ice Dude. In researching, they find Firebender trying to sell the thing. The guy brings it into Ray's shop and that stuff is the same. Ray investigates and Winston goes on the same "we're not young anymore thing."

Some of the same family issues happen with Phoebe, she also meets Melody and there's mentions of her family issues and they bond.

Then the ghost containment stuff, the lab stuff, etc. However this also includes Firebender and since he's also hit the reader, he's believed to be possessed and out in the machine and it's on a timer. He gets to talk to his grandma and learns about the fire powers before either time running out or her fading, purpose fulfilled because she passed her duty on. except the first time the lab's power flickers, the ghosts actually escape. They split into pairs.

Phoebe and her mom go after Melody. They work out differences and how she wants to keep her safe etc. Phoebe prolly does something that actually goes wrong or gets her hurt that her mom has to save her from. Through this, they also work through Melody's family issues so she actually moves on by resolve her family issues rather than the ??? In the actual movie.

Teacher and the son go after Slimer, who is much bigger now. For some reason the teacher isn't able to drive the car and they reconcile over that stuff.

Ray and Winston go after the posseser after meeting Patton Oswald about the wax recording. Winston gets excited again and Ray realizes that he IS old.

James Acaster and intern go after the hardy ghost. Also the barfing ectoplasm actually has a possession effect and some good slapstick ensues. The ultimate goal is for this ghost to possess the body to say the magic words.

Melnitz and Podcast fight the Mini Stay Pufft guys maybe they try to wreck the lab or something idk. Podcast gets annoyed he's stuck with her since she didn't do any actual Ghostbusting back in the day, but she ends up showing him she's badass.

Venkman and Firebender team up to train to control the fire while fighting the bigger contained ghost. Since Venkman actually has a psych degree, he helps Firebender unlock his anger at himself and his brother and use that as a way to build and control the fire as it is triggered by anger, etc.

After all these side things are resolved, they team up to defeat Ice Dude. Also ALL their proton packs are modified to have copper so all their combined effort actually contributes. Also, when the original crew work to reverse the containment, they all have something to do or other to make it work so it's not like... Boring pushing down a lever thing, or conveniently designed to reverse from the get-go.

Idk, I think it would be better to make it more an ensemble and would better resolve some of the holes (though I don't have immediate answers for all the holes though).

[realife-mermaid]

found an ebook version of a book i've been wanting to read, farthing by jo walton. she wrote among others, and while i'm not sure among others is my favorite book, when i first read it, it felt like it would become my favorite book. it was just the sort of book that came to me at the right time - the book is like, idk, vaguely magical realism, about a girl who can talk to fairies and has no friends but her books who is suddenly living with a father she doesn't know. she's got a lot of pain issues, and she's suffering from a lot of loneliness and grief and i had started it around my grandma's birthday, about five years after she died, and it was very healing for me.

this one is nothing like that lmao but it's an alternate history book where a group of politicians and nobles step in and force a peace treaty with hitler not too long after dunkirk, so the third reich basically took over the continent, but england is still england. she scandalously marries a jewish man, and is a bit of a social pariah in her circles but they come to a big party her mother is throwing because her husband is hoping it's a peace offering of sorts from her family - only one of the guests, a very outspoken anti semite (straight up tells the main character that if he had his way he'd outlaw marriages like hers) and one of the architects of the peace treaty, shows up murdered, and of course all signs point to her husband.

so just. WILDLY different as a genre, and in tone. this one is funnier because of how much the main character just hates the people she's with because of how they talk about her husband. it's also very romantic in a way that i like - there's this one line i just read where they're sitting on opposite sides of the dinner table and she's realizing that he might genuinely be suspect for the murder and thinking about how she should have protected him instead of letting him come to a dinner she knew would go badly. i'm liking it so far!

[kae-eee]

all my thoughts about apple white i can remember rn because im so unnormal about her

she’s been best friends with dexter forever after, ashlynn and briar are just her main friend group because they’re the most popular fairytale princesses

shes a little envious of dexter who’s allowed to just wear his glasses without an issue

walks into walls and trips on the stairs regularly, she plays it off well

she had the biggest crush on ashlynn when they were like 13, it never fully went away

a little part of why she was so hurt during true hearts day

shes known the charmings her entire life and always took to the twins more than daring

her mother wasn’t happy about that

her favorite color isn’t red

apples make her throat feel fuzzy, what could that mean?

i also think she’s allergic to honey or dairy idk

hella people were scared to tell her who actually woke her up, she didn’t find out till a while later

and she very much faked now being head over heels for daring after she woke up until someone told her

she also thought he was just getting cold feet now that he was avoiding her

wearing her crown so much gives her migraines

and i think it’d be worse for her than other royals because hers is probably bigger

really really easily annoyed

dislikes blondie due to her lack of respect for boundaries, she’s only told raven and dexter this

coldest take but she’s autistic

snow won’t get her tested

queen of masking

does not stfu (yapple white!!)

talks fast as fuck too (yapple white!!!!)

had the biggest fuckin fit when one reflection broke up

i think her and darling were also quite good friends when they were little, but they had different interests and grew apart

im not exactly a dappling shipper, but apple romanticized the hell out of darling once she came to terms with who woke her

also it took her a really, really long time to come to terms with it

super easily annoyed (i cant remember if i already said this)

and her lowest grade is her diplomacy class because of it

shes still acing it though

i think she likes to make jewelry but doesn’t often because it roughs up her hands

like metal jewelry not bracelets made of beads, those wouldn’t mess up her hands

deadliest puppy dog eyes you’ll ever see

noise sensitive

refuses to think about her gender identity and expression because she has a nagging feeling she may bump into something that she’s not ready to unpack

i’d like to think she could hear during her enchanted sleep but then idk how she wouldn’t know daring didn’t wake her

very judgy, trying to unlearn it post way to wonderland

learned it in the first place from her mother

doesn’t text with emojis at all

horrible at replying to messages

hemophilia

broke a bone or two on the way down the well

and those spots ache when it rains

cat person

and she really fucks with orange cats

i wanna say she texts like a grandma

it’s ominous as hell

“hello briar…i’ve seemed i’ve fallen ill…may you inform me on our assignment for princessology… good day..”

the type to remind the teacher of the homework

enjoys to dissect things, but that’s not very princess like is it?

raven snores and apple debates on smothering her every other night

girly needs her beauty sleep

awhile after she’s found out darling woke her up and her destiny may not be as straight cut as she thought, her identity crisis hit her around eleven or twelve at night on a random ass thursday, and raven has to talk down a sobbing screaming apple and get her to go to bed because neither of them are unpacking all that comphet right at that very moment

another cold take but the biggest control freak ever

type of girl to hijack every group project, and come in with her own presentation the day it’s due

a sour over sweet person

but sweet over savory

her mother would’ve dyed her hair if she wasn’t scared that it would get messed up

because blonde hair is better than fried hair

that’s all i’ve got for now, maybe I’ll add to this eventually.

[nathank77]

5/23/24

7:50 a.m Significantly Added to/ Edited 8:10 p.m

So in other news they did the wake and funeral all at once. At 10 a.m this morning the wake was scheduled to 1 p.m and then they had the funeral. I didn't go cause of the time. My mother went and my sister. My whole gaint Italian family was there even my grandma from North Carolina. I wish I went. I wish my circadian rhythm wasn't so fucked up. Why do i wish I went?

When I asked my therapists about it (which Erin may not be my therapist as of June 😒 she's going to ask the board for one more month, then I will have to up my time with Mike to twice a week.. cause yea I'm not getting discriminated against by 50 plus therapists). But anyways when I asked them their response was- the funeral/wake is for the living. And I was like shit they are right. I'd be going for my dad. It wasn't really an option with the time. If it was someone I loved who died I would have taken like 1.5mg of xanax at like 8 p.m the night before to get there but it would have really fucked with my tolerance which could fuck me over long term... a 1mg wouldn't surfice... especially when I took one the night before for my t-shot.

I want to see my grandmother before she leaves but idk if I can tbh. Psychosis plays a role and my circadian rhythm and money issue gas isn't cheap... beyond that things are weird when you're trans... you always worry about those family members who don't see you often fucking up and in turn making you feel like shit.

Either way I wish I could have gone.. idk what to do about my grandma

In other news, I'm going to watch movies with my mom. She's ordering Chinese food. I truly don't want the food... but she wants it. I want to stay on my diet... yea I'm going to eat the egg rolls and the rice and chicken and enjoy it but- I'd rather stay skinny. I'd rather enjoy my waistline than food. And my nice thin face that looks more masculine with each passing day.

Other than that I guess I'll spend the day after the movies watching Dexter. I mean- I watched 5 episodes. There is so much dialogue and narration it actually worked with my hallucination... I feel like the white mulberries and cbd are helping...... but I still got a long way to go. The video I made is more informative. I don't want to write it all out... but it's still chronic and constant... however I do see a difference especially since going to 2000mg of white mulberries.

Beyond that, I have decided what my middle name is going to be and maybe the name I change my first name to and keep Nathan as a middle thanks to my hallucination ruining Nathan for me.... cause I can't think Nathan without thinking my deadname.... I won't use my new name in my head without adding other names to it for a reason...

I'm a Dexter. I remember I went to the courthouse with the paperwork signed but it was closed, i had it filled out to be Nathan Dexter..... why did I hesitate with Dexter?

1) what if people didn't take me seriously cause Dexter is such a dorky name and like no one is named that...and I'm trans.... I wanted my identity to be taken seriously...

2) The D for the middle initial... my dad being David... I didn't want people to think i was Nathan David but now that me and my dad are good (I think) idc... I'd consider David but he wouldn't want that. I actually like the name.. I will respect him..

3) I thought it was the show... but it really isn't. I identify with it and I like it and I always come back to it and the only reason I wouldn't do it mostly is reason 1) what if people won't take me seriously?

So I'm either going to be Dexter Nathan. Or Nathan Dexter. Or Dexter Nathaniel or Nathaniel Dexter.

I mean judge me as you will but that fucking association is so fucking strong. I can't even use the name Nate. In my head cause then it'll ruin that one too..... Nathan is Nathan deadname. deadname Nathan... I can use Nate... but not in my head... it isn't associated.. no one calls me Nathan....

So I very well may have my first name changed to Dexter or Nathaniel.. even though I love the name Nathan and I changed my name from Nathaniel to nathan so people would call me Nathan... no one does though anyways......

I am not a Kyle... no matter how much I like Nathan K. I fucking love that but I am not a Kyle. I do not identify with it at all.

[bhaalsdeepbat]

some family stuff i need to ramble about because i'm at a loss on what to do about it

my sister's dad keeps texting me periodically. It used to be we just got the birthday text, but he's been trying to get ahold of me. Idk if he's trying to find out about my sister - that side of the family often uses me to try and gleam information about her. i was not aware of it as a child, i'm aware of it now and am very good at being a gray rock to both sides of our family when it comes to that.

like i'm in the middle of something between her, my mom & my grandma rn and I'm very good at making sure nothing gets to my grandma, either. so, all of this is to say, these people should know I'm very good at playing dumb.

anyways, sister's dad thinks he's my dad, it doesn't matter here that I'm not biologically his bc I was raised under that impression and he's still under that impression.

we have issues with him. when we were younger, he was NOT a good caretaker. He wanted to party when he had us, we were exposed to shit and situations we should not have, but he cleaned up as our two younger sisters were born. Shortly after the youngest was born, my stepdad was stationed in another state. My oldest sister and I left with our mom, the other two sisters stayed behind with my sister's bio dad (they had different moms).

this context is important bc at this point, my sister's dad completely dropped us. logically, I KNOW it was hard. literally right after the family was broken apart, my grandma on his side of the family had her cancer come back in full force and she deteriorated VERY quickly over the course of year. He never called us. He didn't try to see us. We spoke to him on birthdays (he only called US if it was our birthday, and he didn't even do that every year). We called HIM on holidays, and sometimes couldn't even get ahold of him. if we visited my maternal grandparents, my maternal grandfather was the one who would tell my sister's dad we were visiting and arrange for him to come see us.

which was so fucked up !! bc he'd swoop in, shower us with love and all these promises, then we'd leave and suddenly back to radio silence.

so. again. logically i know he was struggling. He was separated from his kids and then lost his mother. That side of the family is Russian. My sister's dad is first gen on her side. My grandma was a huge part of our lives. she helped my mom clean the house, she watched my older sister, and we lived with her for a little while. losing her was about as life-shattering as losing my mom will be for me.

but we were just kids. and it hurt. and it still hurts. i'm 30 and just now can kinda think about it all without disturbing the scabbed over wound and allowing the echo of that pain to ring. but what the fuck am i to do. i understand how hard it was, but we were just kids.

but i'm an adult now, and i understand.

[ebdanon]

jfc another ask

anyway, he said we could get the stuff we needed from the cabinet, use it, and put it back when we're done or when we go to bed. which sounds reasonable if it's something like a mug that you use for a bit and then put away with the rest. but not expensive tech we've worked hard to acquire and use extensively, that you then have to store in a cabinet that barely has any room, so you have to put one laptop on top of the other one, and then more stuff on top of them and do that any time you need them? bitch if im not working on my laptop im doing other shit on it, whether it's studying, or entertainment, or looking for another job so i can move. its also not made to be stored that way. so there was a huge argument about him feeling the freedom to take and move shit around that doesnt belong to him. and my mil was defending him. it then devolved into her talking shit about how many things we had and why couldnt we bring some stuff over to my parents' apartment. that they were horrible people and likely told us to store it in their house because that's what they do, give us instructions we have to follow.

around a month or so into that, i learned that my mil and shitty grandma had become close friends. i realized this because some of the shit talking she did sounded suspiciously familiar. like word for word familiar. one day i caught them on the phone together and it made sense. so thats where my mil was getting her tea from to call my other grandma a whore, my aunt dumb and incompetent, and even made up her own conspiracies on top of that. like how my husband and i were working freelance for my sister. she does work freelance to but something i have no idea how to do. sometimes she'll come to me about how to deal with a client or an admin issue because ive been doing this a few years longer. but we stopped talking after that funeral/party weekend. she was pissed at me for not attending the party. but somehow this woman got it in her mind that we were working for my sister or that my sister was working for us. she said it either way a few different times so idk. but basically the issue there was, her daughter is a stay at home mom in a different country, low on cash, we should be giving her money or work because she needs it more than my sister. what she doesnt know is that my sister in law is the one we've been lending money to for years now with nothing in return. they're having a difficult time with a small kid, we want to help. if they can pay us back at any point fine, if not fine. there are more issues in that particular situation but that's irrelevant here. anyway, pretty often, my mil goes on rants about the country her daughter is in is shit, the people there are shit. there's been a huge brain drain from our country to that one in the last two decades. she keeps saying more and more people are coming back because its so shit there. except its more shit here which is why we're trying to leave too. people arent coming back, shes making it up. how if her daughter came back, she wouldn't have to be a stay at home mom, because my mil would find her a job. except that's the reason they left. my sil and her husband couldnt find jobs anywhere here that paid decently. and they had a toddler. no one was helping them financially from both sets of parents, so thats the solution they found.

in that first month, i kept asking my mil where she keeps various things like baking supplies or cleaning supplies or whatever else i needed that the apartment already had (former) or we left behind (latter) which i never got a response to. "hey where do you keep the stand mixer? silence, leaves the room" is a common example. my fil years ago, made the garage (oh yeah theres a garage too) to fit two cars. except to park them, they gotta be one behind the other, so you have to take out one to drive the other, if my description makes sense. our car is always the one on the inside because "we dont need it much" according to them because they go to work every day and we work from home. any time we need the car, we have to ask them to move theirs so we can get ours out. we're not touching their car no matter how much they push us to sell ours and drive theirs, or just move theirs whenever necessary because that's just a shitstorm masked as a kind gesture. i stopped asking about the cleaning supplies and we bought our own, even though i know she has a set for each floor because she's told me. funny thing i learned last night: the bathroom we got assigned had a single toilet cleaning product in there. the bathroom was also absolutely filthy. we kept trying it out to clean the toilet with the product but nothing was happening. so i checked the date and it turned out to be expired. i left the expired one where i found it because god forbid you touch anything of theirs. im not even allowed in parts of the house. so there were two identical toilet cleaners next to the toilet. my mil brought it up in one of her screaming monologues last month, and we told her why there's two. so she proceeded to yell about why we never told her. and she grabbed the expired one and threw it out. last night during the shitstorm, my father in law said it wasn't that kind of toilet cleaner. he bought some off brand cleaner that her poured into the packaging of this expired bottle (im like wtf u could have made poison gas or something mixing chemicals like that) a while ago, and you're supposed to scrub hard to get any sort of cleaning done. and i said well if the instructions said that, i would have done that, but everyone here takes the pleasure in keeping everything hidden. he said he didnt bring it up earlier because he wanted to see us "tear each other apart" because he was bored. so not even his wife knew. psycho fucking behavior i swear, sometimes i dont know whos worse between the two of them.

my sister in law and her family were over for the christmas holidays, and my niece's bday was coming up soon so she asked me to bake some muffins for her to decorate before the party because she needed the oven at their place to bake other stuff. i said no problem, and had to scavenge a whisk i remembered seeing because idk where the stand mixer is despite asking multiple times. and being ignored. oh but my mil knew id be making them and kept trying to convince my sil against it because im incompetent and would fuck it up and its best if my mil bakes the muffins. my sil assigned mil on muffin decoration duty. which my mil didnt do because she was too busy. i dont even

anyway, since the year started, i decided to make a spreadsheet to keep track or all the shit my mil says about me or my family. i keep track of dates and what she said because the first few months i felt like i was losing my mind. she would say some crazy shit, my husband would call her out and she'd say she never said such a thing. hence, spreadsheet. it got too much for me to handle and my body started reacting. she tends to start shit during weekends. my blood pressure started spiking during the weekends as soon as id wake up. id get shakey, out of breath, my heart rate would go up. my husband and i went to a bunch of doctors, just like we did for him last year. his dad was there too, because thats how shit works here. my husband had to kick him out so i could explain the symptoms to the doctors. so they could examine my chest because they were worried its a heart issue. idk my fil is weird and creepy and thats a nice way of putting it. he walked in on me in the bathroom multiple times. just me, no one else. im now the only one that locks the door when using any bathroom. because my husband asked what his problem was and he said he's not used to other people in the house. yet he never walked in on anyone else. any bathroom any time of day. fil asked why i didnt lock the door and i said my mil and husband said not to do that because the locks are old and rusty and i could end up stuck inside. he said thats not true so i started locking the door. he still tried to get in. weird behavior aside, turns out my symptoms were due to hereditary thyroid issues triggered by stress. the blood pressure has gone back to normal since but not everything else, and especially not during stress, everything spikes then. many times since, she'd start yelling, my husband would notice im not looking great, and he'd pull out the blood pressure monitor so we can check. and she'd continue yelling how she doesnt care i have health issues, im gonna take it, she has health issues too and no one gives a fuck about her. she's shoved me out of the shed when i went to grab something for her daughter while yelling at her daughter why she has things in there (it was a pair of forgotten shoes). several times she's screamed/asked me what she's done wrong for me to mistreat her, how shes opened her soul to me and ive been using it against her, how i changed since we moved out of town and changed her son too. ive asked her how ive used anything against her, no response. ive asked what ive done wrong, no response. so i didnt respond to her question either. until last night when she screamed/asked again.

okay last ask will be about last night ive been typing for so long im sorry for clogging ur ask box with my lore

ur mil would literally argue with air atp jesus christ

[fr1day-incredible]

Thanks for the tag!

And no pressure tags: @angst-is-love-angst-is-life @the-feral-gremlin (and any other mutuals/followers that write or just anyone who wants to do this tbh)

Novels, Short stories or Poems?

Well my ambitions lay with Novels. But i have yet to finish one. So I am now trying to write short stories (and in regards to reading, anything but poetry)

What genre do you prefer reading?

Oh it's gotta be action, crime, fluff (can you even call that a genre? Lmao) and horror. Yeah horror gotta be my ultimate favourite tbh

Are you a planer or write as I go kind of person?

Ik i should be a planner, but in reality I'm the figure-it-out-as-i-got-but-then-give-up-not-even-half-way-trougth-cuz-i-did-in-fact-not-figure-it-out

What music do you listen to while writing?

Really depends on what I'm writing, but usually I just got for my "Random <3" playlist that is 25+ hours long and has a fuck ton of different genres of songs in it

Favourite books/movies?

The warrior cats kid will forever live inside me. But Two Little Savages, it was my dad's favourite childhood book and so he showed it to me and I loved it as well <3 And here is also Three on a boat, not counting the dog, that my parents/grandma read to me and honestly I barely remember what it was about. But what I do remember is that I loved it! Also some specific Sherlock Holmes stories, I don't remember their names. I just remember it was a book my mom got as a present years ago, and it just had a collection of Sherlock stories with some unrelated pirate stories in there as well. And my god I was feral after that book, Sherlock had me in a choke hold!

Tho gotta say I only know warrior cats in Norwegian and the other three only in Russian. So my view of them might differ from the view that people who read them in English have lmao

And for movies it's gotta be Ocean's 11, Queen of the gas station orrrr Ivan Vasilievich: Back to the Future

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you, what would your standard outfit be?

Oh I wish I could say that it would be some really cool stylish outfit. But in reality it would be baggy jeans/sweet pants, a random t shirt, a hoodie and then headphones that have seen some shit as an accessory

Create a character description of yourself?

Ummmm, yeah I don't have the energy for that

Do you like to incorporate actual people you know into your stories?

I haven't actually done it, but I like the idea of it! Like making my friend(s) into epic background characters. Or if I'm writing a fic and one of the characters reminds me of someone ik irl, I can see myself giving some of the traits of the person ik irl to the character in a headcanon way

Are you kill happy with your characters?

I keep switching between it, like I decide to kill off a character and but then i change my mind about and then it's an infinite back and forth. So I think I gotta start compromising with: only almost killing them, resurrection (bonus point if they come back wrong one way or the other), becoming a ghost after death. But I'm not sure, I gotta think about it

Tea or coffee?

Tea (or water or some soda). I can not stand the taste or smell of coffee tbh

Slow or fast writer?

Sloooooooooow. Slow!

Where/What/Who do you draw inspiration from?

Anything, everything and anyone, literally

If you were in a fantasy world, what would it be?

Ooooo, I would love to become part of Narnia, Lotr/the hobbit or my own original world! :D

Most favourite book cliche? Least favourite?

Idk about favourite. I don't really issues with cliches, like just write what you want and like. And if I personally don't like it, I'll just click off and let you be in peace. But still I have my least favourite tropes, and it's: (if you can even count it as cliches) when a character loses their powers at the end, does a 360° to get kids and settle down pretty much out of the blue or loses all common sense because of a love interest they keep chasing. Like these tropes ofc can be done well! But most of the time I personally just don't like them either way 🤷

Favourite scene to write?

Oh that gotta be dialogue (especially if the characters are bickering), descriptions or a character's inner thoughts!

Reason for writing?

For my original story, I just want to document all my ideas so that I remember them and have a bit of me still exist in the far future! And for fics I just want to be part of the community, making people and myself happy with my works :D

Writeblr Interview Tag

Dearest @sableglass, again, many thanks. I appreciate you. Hope you are having a stupendous day. I hope you kick this weeks butt. The week is your bitch now.

Short stories, novels, or poems?

All. I write (very bad) poetry, and read (very good) poetry.

What genre do you prefer reading?

I lean towards fantasy tbh. I don't read much anymore- full time job means i choose- read or write. I usually choose to write.

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

Pft. What's a plan?

I really like stories that grow organically and move reactionary (kinda like playing a live D&D game with yourself).

So if i have a plan it's usually only some rough ideas of what happens next.

What music do you listen to while writing?

None. I write in silence.

No I'm not joking.

Yes, i'm aware its weird.

Favorite books/movies?

I don't have one really? But I guess right now I'm re-obsessed with Avatar the Last Air Bender. I am more obsessed with High Rollers D&D streams presently.

Go watch, it's better than anything on the Tellie.

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

I'm seasonal:

late spring to end of summer:

tanktop, shorts, socks with sandals

late summer through the cold bits:

beanie, hoodie, yoga pants

Create a character description of yourself: 

Eww no.

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

No? There may be pieces of people I know but i cannot say that any character reflects any one person.

Are you kill happy with your characters?

:)

Coffee or Tea while writing?

Both at the same time, also probably water and a club soda. I have 2-4 drinks with me at any given time.

Slow or fast writer?

Depends honestly. Some books go sonic fast, and some go much slower.

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

The cosmic ether.

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

Party healer that gets forced into supporting the protagonist and main party.

I'm combining these three because same answer who dis:

Most fav book cliche

Least favorite cliche

Favorite scene to write

The answer is that there is no answer. Most of this depends on how well the words go for me in terms of writing or reading. I'm quite happy with most cliches or scenes as long as it feels in keeping with the character.

Reason for writing?

The universe beats me on the head if i stop for too long. It's not a choice, it's a compulsion.

I be taggin (hopefully this isn't redundant, trying to revitalize the tag game economy and spread the <3 ):

@ettawritesnstudies

@simonnebethel

@dyrewrites

@leahnardo-da-veggie

@bluberimufim

@gothamxwattpad

[acourtofthought]

I just have to say that I clearly need to read the books again bc I’m missing evidence in the argument that it’s “obvious” Elain/Az have “been building for several books.” They had some moments, sure. However, (correct me if I’m wrong) they didn’t meet in the first book. The second book, and possibly third, they were still individually in love with other people. Elain/Grayson and Az/Mor. Once they were kind of the odd ones out, they seem to come together in a comforting/rebound sort of way. Nesta and Cassian were together or at least arguing lol. Feyre and Rhys were together or at least good friends… so who is left? Elain and Az. That doesn’t mean love or even romance? I also understand that Az is so desperate for a mate & that he kind of would gravitate towards Elain bc he feels like it “makes sense” to have the third sister. That also doesn’t mean love or romance. Idk…. Maybe I’m not seeing it or maybe I just interpreted things differently from the start. Though Elain/Lucien and Gwyn/Az all have some healing and growth to go through… I think they can actually eventually be very healthy couples. And I like them all individually, so I’m hoping for a happy ending for them all. Also, not to be dramatic….but the 3 brothers and 3 sisters thing makes me gag and if that happened, idk if I would recover. 😂

 

Their big moment from ACOMAF is Azriel answering Elain's question about Illyrian's flying.

But.....Elain was only trying to cut through the tension between Cassian, Feyre, and Nesta so she turned to Azriel to ask him the question. And Azriel was only self-conscious because he doesn't like when the attention is on him (which is PROVEN later in the series when Mor and Cassian laugh at a joke he made. This characteristic of Az has NOTHING to do with romance or Elain).

And before that we have, "but Azriel's attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face."

Ain't no romance like a bland smile romance 😒

That's the thing with E/riel. Everything is "peace and quiet, soft, gentle, bland, polite." And if you have ever read a fantasy book, especially a fantasy book by SJM, THESE ARE NOT GOOD THINGS TO INDICATE AN ENDGAME COUPLE!!!!!!

And in the same novel, we have:

"Mor breezed to my side. She wore a gown of pure white, little more than a slip of silk that showed off her generous curves. Indeed, a glance over her shoulder revealed Azriel staring blatantly at the back view of it, Cassian and the stranger already too deep in conversation to notice what had drawn the spymaster's attention. For a moment, the ravenous hunger on Azriel's face made my stomach tighten."

And.....

"Not the cold, beautiful shadowsinger who tried so hard not to watch her with longing on his face?"

And....

"The issue, actually, wouldn't be me. It'd be him. I could peel off my clothes right in front of him and he wouldn't move an inch. He might have defied and proved those Illyrian pricks wrong at every turn, but it won't matter if Rhys makes him Prince of Velaris - he'll see himself as a bastard-born nobody, and not good enough for anyone. Especially me.

And....

"Azriel's head lifted from where he was sprawled in his own blood, eyes full of rage and pain as he snarled at the king, "Don't you touch her." Mor looked at Azriel - and there was real fear there. Fear - and something else. She didn't stop moving until she again kneeled beside him and pressed a hand to his wound. Azriel hissed - but covered her bloody fingers with his own.

So what's really romantic coding here? Azriel staring with hunger and longing at Mor and never being willing to make a move because he doesn't think he's worthy or Feyre thinking Elain would seek out Az for peace and quiet? One is passion and one is what I'd do with my grandma.

I am almost positive SJM originally planned on Az and Mor ending up together in ACOMAF until she decided she needed more inclusivity in the series and made Mor bisexual in ACOWAR. Which means when she made Elucien mates in ACOMAF, she wasn't remotely thinking about E/riel being a thing.

And then she changed the direction of Mor in ACOWAR which means she needed to created a new storyline for Az and a way that Elain and Lucien needed to avoid one another until it was time for them to accept the bond in their own book. They needed not to fall for one another while she was still mourning the loss of Graysen.

SJM couples do NOT fall in in love with their endgame person while still in love with someone else. She ALWAYS makes sure the reader knows the FMC is over their past love before falling for someone new.

Enter....the E/riel rebound!

Every single moment people think E/riel has in ACOWAR is followed by imagery of why they wouldn't match. It's followed by the fact that he's still hung up on Mor and she's still hung up on Graysen. There is NO love building between them. Then by the end of that book and in ACOFAS, we see Az starting to realize he may never be with Mor and Elain realize she may never get to return to Graysen. So they latched on to the convenient other single person within their orbit that they're "fine" with. That they feel "comfortable" with. Again, not SJM endgame material. And for God's sakes, Elain is in the room on Solstice while Az looks at Mor with yearning! What the hell kind of romance is that?! Elain's obviously chopped liver when Mor's around 🤔

That's why Gwynriel and Elucien's arguments are so strong, because we don't even need to add Lucien or Gwyn to any of this to make it obvious as to what's going on. And that's why Lucien and Gwyn will be endgame because they are separate from the Mor / Az, Elain / Graysen mess. There are no feelings of love involved with Gwynriel or Elucien right now but there is absolutely an overlap between canon evidence of Az being in love with Mor and Elain being in love with Graysen and E/riels saying Elain and Az are in love.

I'm about tired of their "go back and read the book" arguments considering we can refer back to multiple scenes involving multiple characters outside of just the Elucien or Gwynriel ones versus them, who can only recite E/riel moments. I think it's pretty obvious which readers have actually read the book.

[candeathbereal]

Disclaimer: I am basing this off of my own experience and honestly if you disagree with me. I would love to hear your opinion. Message me idk it’s up to you

My intense love for scorpio and capricorn placements together

Okay so I have had to come to terms wtih my emotions that get provoked by people with both scorpio and capricorn placements. I believe I can trace this back to my childhood since my mother has a Scorpio mercury and a Capricorn Venus. I would naturally try my best to stay on my mother’s good side so I think it’s funny how now every person I have met that has these placements can affect me in different ways, but together there is something so fucking intense that happens to me (emotionally and physically).

Scorpio placements are an interesting comfort for me. The “energy” that scorpio placements give off tend to make me feel very comfortable. I feel so energized when I meet scorpio placements. It’s a moment because my fourth house is in scorpio so it makes sense why I feel such a comfort right? For instance, my grandma has a scorpio mars and me and her will argue about the most random shit. The thing is that I don’t think the rest of my family understands it entirely. Afterwards my grandma and me will be joking with each other and I feel very close with my grandma. I think people see us disagreeing with each other and think we are mad at each other or something like that. When really it’s just a leo mercury and aries mercury communicating, so there is a lot of passion behind our words. I bring this up as an example because I have always admired my grandma’s passion and comforted by her ability to take charge and speak up when it is needed.

I do feel like her planets and how they are placed in my houses does help me and her bond very well. Her sun is either in my second or third house, and her moon is in my ninth house. If anyone knows more about the sun house synastry I would love to know more about it. But emotionally I have felt like I do expand due to her influence on me. I say that cause the ninth house is usually ruled by sag and sag rules jupiter. Jupiter is all about expansion and learning I think so yeah. Anyways her mercury is in my first house, her venus is in my third house, and her mars is in my fourth house.

Now let me compare that to my reaction to Capricorn placements

Capricorn is in my sixth house so I have had many experiences bonding with capricorn placements. Now the bond isn’t always the most positive or healthy but it is a bond nonetheless. I also want to preface this by saying that my south node is in my sixth house and in capricorn so even though I am pulling my info from my own experiences. I am still not sure how much will resonate since I think the nodes do contribute to my reactions to capricorn placements and such.

Moving on capricorn placements as a whole affect me. For instance, my boyfriend has a mars in capricorn. His way of doing things is definetly a bit different than me with my mars in sag. When he wants to do something he is very consistent and focused. He wants to become better at that thing and usually he doesn’t change or move onto working on something else for a while. Now comparing that to me who is fasincated in learning so much that sometimes I am working on one thing while learning a completly different thing. I tend to move onto things back and forth multiple times but that doesn’t always mean I am completly dropping that thing I was doing earlier. Idk if that makes any sense but yeah.

I do admire his will to be consistent. The only issue that comes up is when we are doing something together that don't really I want to do. Right now I am learning how to drive and he is helping me out with it. There are a couple of times where I will get so stressed out by driving that I will want to stop it. Now he won’t force me or anything like that to continue if I am not comfortable it. Instead he will talk to me through it all very logically and not exactly with the level of expression of passion I am used to. Like he has said to me that the reason he learned how to drive was because “he didn’t want to rely on anyone”. Now that is a perfectivily great reason but that was it. Idk it just felt very earth mars behavior imo.

Let me do another example. Now this one is about someone who didn’t have a scorpio placement but had a capricorn sun. We would work fine in a group but even though they had a taurus moon (I love taurus moons bruh) we didn’t act like buddy buddy. I became a bit more toned down and it was interesting because I met them through a theatre class. Actually I don’t think we really interacted much unless it was class related, but I do believe meeting and interacting with them affected me and my work ethic. I became more focused and overall like a leader rather than a “follower”. I am more or less just a person who helps where it is needed but sometimes I just do my own thing because I hate the idea of following orders from someone I don’t respect on a professional level. Anyways I’ll try to make another post to elaborate on this topic. Time to check for typos or any errors oof bruh

Talk to you guys soon :)

[rattoes420]

For otp! You know it, I know it, you're gonna do it eventually, JERIC

All of em⁉️ alright bet I’m deranged like that

1. Who most initiates PDA?

Eric obvi

2. Any sleep habits either had to get used to?

Eric prob sleeps weird, I’m not elaborating on that, and I think jacks the type of mf who needs to be at a certain level of comfort at night or else he’ll die, he’s willing to let some things pass but not much

3. Jealousy issues?

Yea y’all saw witches of pennbrooke

4. What’s a Night Out for them?

They’ve got range, shits anywhere from nice restaurant to club to breaking into mr Feeny’s car

5. What’s an evening in for them?

Watching films, eating shitty food and being gay and stupid

6. Double Date? Thoughts? Who?

Jeric double date with Rachel and whatever bitch they try and set her up with real (also I’m pushing lesbian Rachel)

7. Do they want (have) kids?

Yea :)))

8. Have an AU thought?

I’ve got a boy meets world remake in my mind and heart (and google docs) if that counts, but so far I haven’t come up with any of my lil batshit completely disconnected shit yet

9. If they got engaged… who proposed?

Jack,,,,

10. How do they deal with the other’s family?

I feel like jack would kinda wanna impress Alan and Amy but overall he gets along with them and like,,, Shawn likes Eric and that’s all that rly matters

11. What is their love language?

Both prob mostly quality time but Eric also probably physical touch

12. How are their communication skills?

Average? I feel like Eric is kinda defined BY his emotional intelligence so that helps but they’ve got their issues (specifically cause of the time gap thing)

13. A little personal… but… Hot and Steamy or Soft and Tender?

Haven’t thought too much about this and if I’m being real idk if I wanna

14. How did they first meet?

K that one is just canon, shoutout to Cory for introducing them, he is a real supporter of the lgbtq+ community

15. Why do they like each other?

They both kinda bring something to each other that they themselves don’t have so they kinda balance each other out and bring out the best in each other because of that, I think that’s kinda why they like each other???? Cause of the differences and new perspectives and shit idk

17. Morning rituals?

Thinking about adult jeric, y’all they have real jobs now and Eric probably has to get up early as fuck, I doubt he’s at all functional when he first gets up, my guy is like “five more minutes” when he’s literally a senator, jack probably read some article once about the healthiest morning routine and has tried to abide by that ever since

18. Evening rituals?

Mfs watch tv and films till one of them falls asleep and I really believe that

19. How are they at parties or gatherings?

Jacks mostly cool and normal, Eric makes things fucking crazy/pos

20. Most cuddly?

ericericeric

21. Movie Night?

Of course they do that shit, oh to be a fly on the wall well they decide to watch a horror film 😔😔😔

22. Who is the photo bug?

Prob Eric but I could see it being jack

23. How well do they know each other’s favorite foods?

Pretty well probably they literally live together (side note but Eric’s either the type of mf to eat like three different type of foods with very little variety or the type of mf to have a new food he’s obsessed with every other week no I’m not elaborating)

24. What do their texts look like?

Adult jeric time :)))) jack has that stereotypical old man texting style, Eric does that weird thing my grandma does where it’s like “congrats on the show today🏄‍♀️🌈🍰”

25. Parenting style?

Dude Eric would literally be such a good dad, fun parent, Eric Matthews be my dad challenge, I think Jack might be worried about fucking up but overall I think he’s do a good job, he’d make sure that kid didn’t die

26. If they have kids, who named them? What would they name them?

I’m not entirely sure?

27. Who brings home an illegal pet?

Eric if either of them (Eric’s not rly a pet guy and jack has a hard enough time taking care of himself)

28. Who takes the longest getting ready to leave?

I’m not sure, this could go either way

29. Who said I Love You, first?

I like the idea of it being jack but it was prob Eric

30. When did they realize they loved each other?

Eric was prob during witches of pennbrooke cause,,,, I love that episode and I like the implications of it,,,, jack I legit think was probably after the end of the series but before girl meets world (I mostly like to think this cause it makes me sad 👍)

[weabooweedwitch]

I definitely do not properly understand your whole situation but I’ve been seeing your posts about your mom for a while and they sort of make me wonder if your mom struggles with some psychological issues such as narcissism. However, I am not a psychologist so do not trust me there but I get the feeling you’ve also considered the condition for her. I I know you’re already thinking of this yourself, but I think people tend to need reassurance in these decisions so I just really want you to know that your idea of moving out and creating your own path seems like a great idea. You seem like someone who is capable of supporting themselves and leading a productive life but your mother is holding you back. It’s insane to me that she has her daughter working a night job while she stays at home doing nothing. Does she have a disability of some sort that prevents her from getting a job? Also srry if this message comes off as rude or annoying. I’ve just had a friend who’s been through similar circumstances and remember how mentally/emotionally draining dealing with toxic parents can be. I rlly hope things start looking up for you!

Oh she definitely has mental health issues and I don't even mean that in a malicious way, she has told me stories over the years of some really bad stuff thst happened to her at different ages with different people and even such childhood trauma as "she has no fucking idea who her father is but he was a married man my grandma was in love with and the entire Southern Baptist family basically shunned my grandma (my grandma even broke down in tears to me once and said they would call her a slut) and my mom became a black sheep and she was bullied her childhood" but also like I spoke to one of said bullies, a cousin, after my grandma funeral and she mentioned some behaviors of my mom that, I've always seen, so sometimes, I dunno, I wonder if my mom developed some trauma in childhood, or was born a certain way, and unfortunately she has sometimes found bits and pieces of repressed memories of being a CSA survivor but the uncertainty of it kind of, I guess to psychoanalyze her she had developed a permanant suspicion and paranoia and distrust of other people and sometimes I wonder if she has some sort of personality disorder or it's just trauma or it's empathy issues or what, idk. And the continuing lack of stability in our lives is feeding into such festering mental health issues that she also does not have the time to have treated because she has, for most of her life, been working constantly as a single mom, and just literally can't afford it because isn't American healthcare nice.

But anyways. It really is becoming an extremely stressful relationship for rhe both of us and I have occasional concerns over my own behabior, my temper, how I struggle to get through to her and she just tries to shut you down and the anger and frustration at trying to get her to LISTEN, like. We've had some incidents where I kind of lost it a little and I really don't want those to escalate. So it's also sort of becoming like "hey Miranda maybe not only is this the right thing to do but this is literally starting to become a safety issue"

But I'm also occasionally like basically feeling like I'm falling apart, but its also like, hm. When I sit and think about it, I didn't really get my first job until it was basically forced by necessity, and now I'm able to work 40 hour weeks albeit being pretty stressed. So. Would I just be initially terrified of being out on my own and just adjust to that too? But also I would HATE to, like, not to catastrophize but, what if I get a roommate and I totally fall apart, then I ruin my situation AND theirs, and what if lost my job? But also what if I lose my job NOW because I'm getting so bent out of shape on and off the clock? But if I can, you know, barely afford $1350 rent with some occasional purchases, then, a cheaper place could maybe be, the best thing. I'm just scared because I have such horrible trust issues now and I don't want people touching my stuff or my animals, and also I can drive so I guess transportation is also a concern when looking at locations.... decisions decisions but also I'm just, terrified of the unknown and of failing and being worse off than I was before

[sebastiansluts]

Happy new year rosee (ik it’s v late but better late than never) anyway what’s up? Who anon jerk dare come and bring any negativity to my precious rose? Imma throw hands 🤺🤺🤺

I miss you haven’t been able to send you any messages since I’m at my grandma house and I’m restraining myself from reading any smut so I won’t be horny but I’m dying to read new fics from you gosh I wish I’m back at my dorm reading your amazing writings also might thinking I would dye my hair blonde balayage this January for the new year new me bullshit (not rlly I just wanna be Sebastian Stan’ type 😭😭😭) but I miss dyeing my hair so yeah and also been thinking mafia Nick idk why but I imagine him keeping me as a pet and maybe he’ll fuck other girls but kept me watching and he’ll be so mean abt it but I’m his one and only pet so when the girl he’s fucking started talk shit abt me behind my back he’s like “you ain’t special she is, no one talk shit abt my pet” and then kill her and then just fucks me and when he finally breeds me he just won’t stop being around me and finally just fucks me and only me cause I’m the only one that gets it…

But also I’m craving Daddy Lee who’ll take care of me and again humiliates me in a different way like he fucks me dumb that I said “da…da” instead of daddy accidentally and he’s like “aw you can’t even say daddy fucking pathetic you dumb baby look at you babbling like a pathetic braindead fucktoy baby c’mon say it back im a pathetic braindead fucktoy baby yeah you are fucking useless shit I’m gonna wreck you so bad” cause oh my god that fucking belly is all I want I need a big boy and as always je suis excitée (idk french unless it’s that and voulez vous coucher avec moi)

So yeah my mind is fucked up but it izzz what it izzz. Ps. I used to hate when the ml have other girl but I crave to be humiliated now I don’t mind lol as long as he’s mine is that fucked up? I think that’s fucked up I need to go to a therapy

~sincerely your beluga

Happy New Year hon!!! I hope you had a good one <3 Thank you for defending me, I love you. I've missed you too! I hope you're having a good time even though you're not reading any smut- I'll try to have some more for you to read soon! Haha I say go for it, do the hair change if you've been missing it! I need to redye mine soon, maybe I'll do a dark purple or something! But yeah I feel you on wanting to be Seb's type!!

Mmm mafia!nick is a great one, and I love the humiliation plus protectiveness, it's like, no, only he gets to be a dick to you, no one else. And the giving in at the end to only fucking you, because really, why would he need anyone else when you're willing to do everything and anything?

But ooo daddy lee is so good too because yes he could humiliate so much like that, he'd say how he's so much smarter, he knows what's best for you, and just keeps fucking you until you're flying....

Hahaha love that little bit of french, it's all I know too lol. And so what, your mind is fucked up, my mind is fucked up, we're all fucked up! And I mean, we should all probably see therapists, but that's a whole other issue lol

[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.