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thegreenthepeacetheorange · 10 months

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Do you ever think about

Peeta being 5 years old on his first day of school and noticing this girl in a red plaid dress with her hair in two braids that his father points out to him. And then he sees this girl stand up on a stool and sing in front of the whole class and he notices that the birds stop to listen, just like his dad had told him they did for her father.

Peeta being 6 or 7 years old, practicing his cake icing behind the counter of the bakery. And then the father of the girl who wore the red dress comes into the bakery singing a song and Peeta raises his head to see if the birds stop to listen. And they do.

Peeta being 11 years old, standing behind his mother as she yells at that very same girl, looking hunger-stricken and so weak, for looking through their rubbish bins. Watching her as moves just a little bit away until she's behind their pigpen, leaning on their apple tree for support. Hurrying back inside and burning two loaves of good hearty bread, filled with raisins and nuts. Checking over his shoulder as he wills the crusts to blacken faster. Feeling his mother deliver a blow to his cheek with a burning hot tool, falling to the floor. Being told to go out and give the blackened bread to the pigs but waiting until his mother has gone back inside to throw the bread to the girl. Going back inside and watching as she takes it and hurries away. Seeing the girl at school the next day and wanting to catch her eye, waiting and waiting for her to meet his eyes. But the one time she does, she looks away quickly, towards a dandelion, smiles and plucks it from the ground.

Peeta being 12, 13, 14, 15 years old, finding himself constantly sneaking glances at the girl. Wanting desperately to go over to her, talk to her, see if he could make her smile. He sees her watching him back. But then he shakes his head and tells himself to knock it off. Plus she seems to be with that older boy a lot.

Peeta being 16 years old. Staring at the floor until he hears her sister's name. Feels the air go out of him when he sees her push through the crowd and volunteer. Fixing his eyes on her, watching her stand up there, heading far far away from him. Oh, how he wishes he would have talked to her when they had had time. So lost in his thoughts of her that he almost misses his own name being called out. Feels the eyes on him, a pair that must belong to her too, following him as he makes his way to join her on the stage. Shaking her hand and hoping she knows he chooses her.

Peeta being 16 years old, in the games. Deciding that she can win, she can survive, she must live. Letting the whole of Panem know his feelings for her. Choosing to join the Careers to lead them away from her. Choosing to save her even if it means getting his leg slashed by Cato. Finding a place to conceal himself, hoping death comes sooner rather than later. Hoping she's okay, that she's made it. Listening out for cannons and watching the sky, hoping she doesn't appear, as he bleed outs. Hears the rule change one evening and cries, because it's too late now for him.

Peeta being 16 years old and she's found him. She's called out his name and she's found him. And she's helping him. He's struggling and dying and weak, a hindrance more than a help, but she stays by him constantly, watching him closely like she's done for years but now it's up close. And soon she's kissing him and though he's tired and draining all the time, this sets off a spark in him that makes him feel alive. Joking with her, teasing her, sleeping with her curled up against him, hearing her laugh at his jokes, feeling her touch and reaching out to mirror her touches, kissing her. And soon his crush, this care he's felt for this girl, develops into feelings that are stronger, feelings that feel a lot like love. And they talk and they talk. She risks her life trying to get the medicine that will save him and he realises he completely underestimated her.

Peeta being 16 years old and a victor. But he's not the only one. She's right there beside him and he can't believe his luck. Hope. Love. The future lies out ahead of them. But then something is wrong. Haymitch tells them to keep it up until they're back but he doesn't realise there's anything to keep up. Finding out that there was something a bit too shiny and sparkling about these last few weeks. Something not completely real. Feeling something horrible twist inside him. Letting go of this girl and taking a step back, because something hurts deep in his chest.

Peeta being 17 years old, going about his days back in Twelve. Painting, fending off nightmares with a paintbrush, walking by her house everyday, noticing when the lights are on or off in her bedroom. Then they're going on a victory tour and the feelings he's tried to cover up with bakery bread and painted canvases and set alight again because there she is, holding his hand on stage, kissing him at times where he even doesn't anticipate it, smiling up at him in a way that ties his stomach into a million different knots. At night he hears her screaming and runs into her room. Whispers to her til she's conscious, holds her until she's calm in his arms and slips into her bed to hold her until they fall asleep. His own nightmares stay away, their interwoven limbs creating a barrier against them.

Peeta being 17 years old, spending every day in her glow. They're friends now. She might not have chosen him but he can't make himself stay away now, not now that she needs him. Listening to her ideas, wanting to run away with her. Talking to her on the phone. Baking her cheese buns and carrying her up and down stairs. Still holding her while she sleeps. Painting pictures for her family book. Sitting with her in the quiet, feeling her breath close to him. Looking up and smiling at her furrowed brows. Catching her look at him all the time.

Peeta being 17 years old, going back into the games. Making her train, choosing her again. Withdrawing because she has to win. She has to. But seeing her, weary and tired, a mirror of himself, he can't help but open his arms to her, feel her warmth beneath him. And it only furthers his resolve. Fighting, fighting, fighting. Always to make sure she makes it out alive. Feels her mirror his love, his kisses, his touches. And one night, he loses her. He can hear her but he can't see her. And then everything changes.

Peeta being 17 years old, living in a world where shiny images fight their way against other images that are matte in his memory. She's far away now, he's not sure where. But he knows she's alive. Why else would they torture him and the people around him. And he always says he doesn't know, knowing what it will mean. But he'd still suffer those same consequences even if he knew what they needed. Still needing to protect her.

Peeta being 17 years old and here she is in front of him. But his head roars at the sight of her and he doesn't know why. She's anxious and weak and damaged, but the alarms are going off in his head. The shininess takes over in this new setting. And he doesn't know why, but he knows something is very wrong. They take him away then. Try to undo something that needs to be undone.

Peeta being 17 years old, not sure which way is up and which way is down. But he sees her, watches her. And then he's sent off on a mission with her. This girl that consumes his every thought, on both sides of the war that's going on in his head and he doesn't know what to do. The shiny and his memory are still fighting, and it leaves him so tired. Seeing her, hearing her speak brings memories out of the recesses of his mind. He starts to piece together a puzzle that's been scattered in his mind. Feeling feelings that he once felt in his chest. Real or not real? Green. Orange. The colour of her dress. Cheese buns. Lamb stew in their den. Because that's what you and I do. Protect each other. Knowing it's true and knowing he must.

Peeta being 18 years old, coming back to Twelve after the war. For her. Seeing primroses growing and digging them up, bringing them to her house. Planting them for her. Seeing her again, weary and tired and broken. But she's here. And so is that feeling in his chest that was buried under shiny images that he has since ripped up and discarded. Walking with her through town. Having meals with her, making sure she has cheese buns. Seeing her start to smile again. Climbing into bed with her so that they can create that barrier again, the one that holds off their nightmares. Tentatively kissing her and feeling that fire rage again.

Peeta in his late 30s, watching Katniss lay out a picnic basket in the meadow. Seeing the sunlight fall against her hair and skin, making them shine in a way he knows is real. See the dancing girl weave around the items Katniss lays out. Laughs as the boy with the chubby legs tries to keep up. Walks over to them with the freshly baked cheese buns and sets them down in the space she's left vacant. Feels her smile trained on him before he turns his head to see it. Kisses her softly and breaks away laughing as the dark-haired girl covers her eyes and the blonde boy looks between them. Sits down as Katniss lays her head in his lap. While their children eat cheese buns and make up games in the grass, they sit there in the sunshine, taking it all in. Katniss makes a flower crown using the dandelions growing around her while Peeta runs runs his hand through her hair. He looks down into her eyes just as she tilts her head back to look at him. Knowing that they don't need to freeze this moment.

#headcanoning that mrs mellark only noticed katniss was there rummaging in the bins because she caught her son staring out the window #staring out the window with a cone of icing in his hands not moving at all #mesmerised by something outside and when she went over to see what he was looking at #there she saw her #the little seam girl #this ended up being so long #my BAD #it almost read like a fanfic my god #everlark #peeta x katniss #katniss x peeta #katniss and peeta #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #the hunger games

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acediaedeus · 2 months

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I just know coming off of the battle high after a spar with Ichigo makes Grimmjow a little bit dumb, and he’s suddenly all loose, and relaxed. a cat readying for a nap after eating a mouse it caught for lunch.

so obviously this state of his leads to some interesting revelations. because the first time Ichigo witnesses this abrupt relaxation he immediately goes into panic mode, and hurries over to check on Grimmjow. but all Ichigo gets when he grasps his forearm to pull the fucker up and get him into the healing spring, is a half-lidded look full of reverence and satisfaction, which hits him like a freight train, and makes him go dumb too. because, sure, he’s witnessed his fair share of Grimmjow’s satisfied looks. but all of them were marred by blood splattered across Grimmjow’s everything, coating his sword, his hands, a lot of the times his teeth (asshole loves taking a bite out of him), they were pure battle and blood thirstiness. this? this is wholly uncharted territory. it’s soft, and contented, and all around nothing like what Grimmjow is. and then it hits Ichigo that maybe he doesn’t know what Grimmjow is like at all. and then, for the first time in his life, he finds himself jealous, of all things. because there definitely someone that does know this side of his favourite Arrancar (there isn’t).

also, let it not be forgotten, that Ichigo’s kind of an idiot, at least when it comes to things that aren’t beating up thugs and gods, or Shakespearean tragedies and dramas. so it should be no surprise that this also happens to him. that just like Grimmjow, he too, becomes just a tiny but dumber. but instead of a cat that got the mouse, he’s more akin to a lizard basking on a sun-warmed rock.

revelations come from this too. and although at the start of their arrangement Grimmjow isn’t even close to being so nice as to help the asshole up, and make sure he’s fine, that doesn’t stop Ichigo from propping himself up on his elbows and beaming an absolutely blinding smile at Grimmjow, before passing the fuck out. and because Grimmjow is still unsure of what’s to happen now, and also not at all accustomed or prepared for human interaction, he thinks the bastard’s good will ran out already, and this is some pathetic last resort attack on his senses. but Kurosaki’s not moving, very obviously sleeping (and isn’t that an insane power move? “hey look, I’m so sure you’re not anywhere near my level, that I’m going to sleep right in front of you, my enemy.” downright mocking, how dare he). he opens a Garganta, and ditches as fast as his sonído will allow, before his brain even starts trying to find any other explanations as to what THAT was. he tries not to think about it, and swears to, from now on, leave before Kurosaki attempts any bullshit.

but the next time it happens some stupid curiosity wins out, and he stays, and he watches as the Shinigami does the whole routine all over again, and… Grimmjow suddenly can’t breathe, can’t take his wide (surely from fear) eyes off of Kurosaki’s prone figure, his face bursts into flames, his mouth runs dry, and that useless dead heart in his chest beats out of rhythm. whatever he’s doing, whatever that attack is, it’s working, and Grimmjow better get away fast.

later, much later, Grimmjow will realise that the reaction he, at first, classified as a symptom of poisoning, was him falling in love with the way Kurosaki’s permanently scowling face stretches out in an expression of pure joy just for him to see.

#grimmichi #they are both idiots #especially about each other #just two bros #being soft and lovey-dovey for each other only #a guy will experience being mesmerised by someone’s beauty for the first time and think he was poisoned #Askin left him with severe PTSD so can’t fault the guy #I don’t like jealousy much but I do find the idea amusing #that’s why Grimmjow is jealous of Shakespeare #btw I’m pretty sure tumblr hates me because some of my posts don’t show up under the tags I put :/#fuck me i guess

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