#postwar things

[therealslimshakespeare]

Right?! I was so touched by the water aesthetics, as well! 😭 my girl’s Astro has to be water I think. Strong and inexorable but oh so very adaptable

YES THIS! The big smiles in all the pins where she was swimming just took me out it’s so her

Ok ok but as we are on the talk of water and such, guess where I put Benny and her in my first, experimental blurb of writing them.?! Water…

TWC SNEAK PEAK:

Without thinking, because she is twenty four now and has been to the beach and has swam with friends and has lived a life, Lu shucks her dress, her shoes, her slip and dives into the lake, nylon undergarments ruined and only just sufficient to be considered a covering. It’s fine, it’s normal, she comes up to the surface and she knows, somewhere far back in her mind she knows, her chest and its scar is visible but it doesn’t matter. The sun is bright, the water is reflecting so strongly she has to squint and through it all Benny is tossing his hair out of his eyes and laughing between puffs of exertion at treading water. He is laughing at having jumped in, at the fact she went for it, too. It doesn’t matter that her body is on display, as a gruesome curiosity or an incitement to desire.

She is swimming with Benny and it’s all just fine.

It makes the moment so utterly enjoyable Lu feels like all her longing to be out here, to be surrounded by this big vast world— it’s been close to right, very near what she’s needed, it’s just made a little better with him and that’s unfortunate as he lives in Chicago. Benny shouldn’t be in the city, he should be in a sparkling lake with minnows assaulting his feet and diamonds of water caught in his lashes.

They’re laughing at each other, so much so they’re close to drowning, and they don’t have to say why. It’s perfect.

[canisalbus]

.

[bloobydabloob]

Do you think being aware of the different elements in art or just ordinary objects can make the process of actually making art difficult? I get that it's about balance and unity of it all, but being introduced to so many concepts early on feels like too much. Almost feels like learning to make art digitally for the first time -> introduced to all these neat gadgets but no idea how to use them or where

This is a crazy good point anon & very important. YES I think it makes it exponentially harder

[stillackerman]

postwar!levi x reader

You're preparing for the event, which requires formal clothes.

You're watching how Levi is trying to fix his white ascot. He's been fighting with that piece of fabric for a few minutes now, still not satisfied with the result. You can almost sense his frustration in the air. You always can. And you also know that he won't ask you for help. His pride will never allow him.

You're getting up from the chair and coming closer. You look at his mirror image, your eyes meet, and you smile a little before speaking:

“Let me help you.”

Levi doesn't say a word, but he turns to you, giving you a free hand. You focus on the task, and slowly take care of this, everything must be perfect, the way he likes it.

You feel his eyes on you, focused the same way on your beauty as you're on the ascot. You're almost blushing; even after all this time, his gaze makes you feel weak on your knees.

When you've done, you look at him, putting your hand on his cheek and tracing his scars with your thumb.

“You look really handsome,” you whisper.

“Tch...” You know Levi resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“I mean it!” You assure him, and to confirm it, you give him a sweet kiss. You feel how he relaxes at the touch of your lips.

And when you pull away, you see he's even more handsome than before. His skin gains some color, and he has happy sparkles in the eyes.

“We should go,” he says. “We can't be late.”

You nod. Levi takes the cane in one hand, and he gives you the free arm. You grab it, and both of you leave the room, looking like the most beautiful couple in the world.

[thesweetnessofspring]

Everlark artists you are so so so important because you're the only ones who give us accurate visual representations of Katniss and Peeta I love you all. 🧡💛💚

[mythboundcal]

The Weight of an Empty Coat Hook FMA: Brotherhood Fanfic by MythboundCal

There’s still a coat on the hook by the door.

Khaki. Pressed. Too stiff to be his. He’s never been that precise.

It hangs like a promise. Like a habit. Like something he forgot to take down and now doesn’t know how to touch.

Roy tells himself it’s for when she visits. But it’s never cold when she does.

The war is over. The new government is still finding its legs, and his title weighs heavier than his rank ever did. He’s got folders to sign, meetings to attend, medals to return.

But the chair to his right? It stays empty.

She said she needed time. Not away from him, necessarily—just away from this. The work. The policy. The tightrope that starts to look more like a noose the longer you walk it.

He understood. Of course he did.

He just didn’t expect time to move so slowly when she wasn’t filling the room with her silence.

The coat shifts in the corner of his eye when he walks past. He never looks at it directly. Not really. But he knows it’s there.

The way he used to know her breath patterns during stakeouts. The way he still pauses when pouring two cups of coffee, even though the second one always goes cold.

Some days, he thinks about boxing it up. Sending it to wherever she is. Some days, he thinks about what he’d write in the note. Most days, he doesn’t write anything.

Because if he does, that means she might not come back.

And he’s not ready to believe that yet.

So the coat stays. Waiting.

Not a uniform. Not a weapon.

Just fabric. Just memory.

And maybe, just maybe—

A place to return to.

[heterocaine]

currently researching the economic and sociopolitical scene of 1950s america. thank you children's heterotopia for making me have twenty tabs open now

[greenerteacups]

Never a Romione shipper but tbh, love Harry and Ginny or at least the potential of them. It always irked me to no end that JK Rowling reduced Ginny to "hot cool girl who likes Quidditch" when, in reality, that girl's been through some stuff. There was so much missed opportunity here for them to bond on a deeper level i‘ll be mad forever. Hello?? She knows what it's like to have Voldemort in her head, she was possessed for like a year at ELEVEN. That's insane, only to be brought up literally once

This is what I'm talking about with Early Installment Weirdness! The transition from children's book to Y/A involves a major pivot in how serious you can be about the almost-dying stuff. Plus, if you take it on face, Chamber of Secrets is by far the darkest book. The main plot is a slasher thriller stapled onto a murder mystery. There's an 11-year-old girl being possessed by a malignant spirit. There's a dead girl haunting the bathroom. Threats are painted in blood in the walls. Dumbledore warns Hogwarts might have to "close forever." Harry's hallucinating a whispering voice in his head saying "hunt, hunt" and "kill, kill." It's all gothic as hell and fucking awesome, but also, uh: "children's book"? HEWWO?

This is part of the reason I cut Ginny's possession arc in Lionheart. It's a shame to take a major plot beat away from her, but I didn't feel that Book 3 or Book 4 gave her any space on the page to deal with it, and by the time she loops back around to being a major character in Book 5, it's been two years and the book's so crowded I can't imagine where an arc for her would fit.

[whinlatter]

‘Hermione, the attendees just survived a war,’ says Seamus impatiently. ‘I think they can survive a piss-up in a creepy old mansion.’

🪶 read the author’s note for c.10&11 (spoilers!)

🐾 listen to the playlist

🪺 watch the trailer 

🦉 thoughts & questions? ask me anything!

[atopvisenyashill]

hey would u guys judge me if i say i wish that michelle fairly and richard madden would do some sort of romance drama as love interests

[therealslimshakespeare]

i just think that lu deserves to plaster herself to benny’s broad back like a limpet while he cooks for her and not think about anything other than the food she’s gonna eat and how huge her bf’s arms are

stop this is so cute 🥹 comes home from work and sprints up the stairs to shower so she can then glue herself to her man while he moves around the kitchen

Isn’t it?! And my sweet considerate baby would shower first but please indulge me for a bit about the days she needs that quicker so she plasters herself anyway and yeah, there’s a Lu outline of grime and dirt and oil on the back of his crisp, starched white business shirt but that’s kinda sweet too, and neither mind -it’ll wash if she can’t

[sharknoseshenanigans1951]

I love Lionel

[wexhappyxfew]

hi i need to know more about this development… mrs. and mr. annie brady are turtle parents?

HI SWEET ANON!!!!!!! 🤩

i can happily confirm that the bradys in their postwar life do become turtle parents 😭 mainly because i have done a lot of think-thoughts regarding postwar for the SB girlies (shout out to u kara <3) and have really been thinking on the bradys and they make me EMOTIONAL.

first of all - they have twins. i just see it in my mind. brady’s the ultimate boy-dad and girl-dad in their own ways and it’s the cutest thing (and annie finds it ADORABLE) and one day his daughter most definitely comes home with the idea of wanting a pet turtle from something she learned in class (and brady CAN’T say no) so he finds himself going out to get a pet turtle that very night. and of course, this seems to pair nicely with annie’s orange cat that she got immediately after the war was over (his name is peanut). but then, it’s about a year later and their daughter mentions that their pet turtle is looking a little lonely and so they get a second pet turtle.

and those turtles are SO WELL LOVED AND CARED FOR!!!!!!! they make it on the christmas card, the bradys take such good care of them and they live, long, happy lives at the brady household :)

AND ITS ADORABLE!!!!!!!!

[etruatcaelum]

[ @caeloservare // for oz ]

He’s been putting this off for almost a month. Partly out of embarrassment: with the qualifiers for the upcoming tournament so close at hand, Atlas Academy’s training arena has been a lot more packed than usual—even at odd hours. But the greater problem is that he just doesn’t want to.

The unwelcome passenger in his head stirs at that, as if stung by his petulance, and remarks: You’ll pick it up in no time if you just try, you know.

“That,” Isaac mutters under his breath, “is exactly the problem. Thanks.”

Still: he lets his hand settle on the handle of the cane clipped to his belt, and something about the way it fits in his palm settles his nerves as he tentatively prods open the door to the training arena. It’s—familiar. (He hates it.)

There doesn’t seem to be anybody else around, probably because nobody normal would be up for weapons drills this early; so he steps inside, holding one hand against the door to guide it shut without making too much noise, and breathes out a little sigh of relief—which ends in a jolt when something moves in his peripheral vision.

Someone did beat him here after all. Damn.

He grips the cane harder, trying for—well, no, cool is probably out of the question with how frazzled he’s felt in the last little while. But he does try to smile.

“I… see my quest to be the morningest person in the school has hit another snag,” he says, a bit weakly, in greeting. The other boy doesn’t look like he’s been here for long enough to get properly started, which means the unspoken rules of etiquette that govern the training arena demand that Isaac make an offer to spar. With a weapon he’s not ever trained with before. Wonderful. “Er, hello. James, isn’t it?”

[mercurygray]

hiiiiii you know i have to ask about the bitb/rowing idea!! dick taking up rowing is something i never knew i needed until now haha

She never thought she'd see another regatta.

College felt impossibly far away from where Joan was sitting in the grandstands of the Potomac Rowing Club - the sweaters, the flags, the weight of Ben's fraternity pin on her jacket. The world had looked different, in 1939 - and while she remembered that she liked a great many things about Bennett Hilliard, she also remembered being quite sure that becoming Mrs. Hilliard while he want to law school wasn't in her cards. Still, he'd come from the right sort of family and danced well and she'd liked the way she felt in his arms. Everyone at Poughkeepsie had been talking about Helsinki, and how it was a shame no one would be able to follow up the miraculous success of the UW team at Berlin.

The river in front of her today, however, was not the Hudson, and ten years was a long time in between races - a lot of water under many, many oars. Bennett Hilliard had gone on to marry some other Goucher graduate and she had gone to war.

Someone cleared his throat - a well-dressed man in glasses and a Syracuse scarf. "Captain Warren, it's so good of you to come out today. Your husband said we'd be seeing you. Usually we have to save Go Army for the football season. I like Dickie's chances - he's got to be one of the most natural rowers I've ever seen. It's Mort Greenstan," he said, holding out a hand for her to shake.

Joan finally placed the name, and abbreviated the smile that sprang to her lips hearing him called Dickie, a name he never owned to if he could help it. "The club chairman, yes, Dick mentioned you might stop by."

"Do you mind if I join you? I brought binoculars, in case you forgot."

"Thanks, I have my own," Joan said, patting the well-worn pair that had seen her through most of Europe.(She'd noticed the woman down the row a little had a lovely pair of pearl-handles on hers, but now wasn't the time for getting self-conscious. Joan Warren didn't follow things like fashion and if she wanted to bring her army binoculars to a regatta, she was damn well going to bring her army binoculars.)

"My, those have really been through the war, haven't they?" Mort said, trying to make a joke as he made himself comfortable on the seat next to her. Joan nodded serenely.

"Three campaigns in Europe and two combat jumps," she said, and smiled even wider when Mort went silent.

Down at the dock, the competitors were just getting into their sculls, each man wearing the colors of his own home club. A few colleges, here and there, Georgetown and Harvard and even Greenstan's Syracuse colors, and the other out of towners, Hudson and Annapolis and Newport. And there was Dick in his racing singlet and shorts, arms and legs all whipcord and muscle, and she allowed herself a good long look at the man she married. He caught sight of her in the stands and smiled, waving. She touched her hand to her lips, a small personal symbol of a kiss, and watched his smile widen.

The announcer was blazing through the names of the competitors, and she caught, almost missing it as it blew by, "-Colonel Richard Winters, rowing today for Potomac in the single men's sculls."

She had been just as surprised as anyone else when she'd came home from an assignment and realized there were muscles under his suitcoat that she'd hardly noticed when she left. "I joined the rowing club," he'd explained. "They were talking about it at lunch and Ken's a member, so I started going on Saturdays. It's a lot like running - the way you can lose your mind in it."

She'd nodded and agreed and made a joke about other things he could lose his mind in that required stroking, and that had been the last they'd talked about it for several hours, at least. But he'd kept at it until it was silly calling it a hobby, and now they were here, at a regatta, in the starting heats of a crowded and talented field.

The sculls were at the starting line, the rowers crouching into position at their oars, eyes ready for the flag. Joan tightened her grip on her binoculars and waited for the starter, her feet yearning for starting blocks and racing spikes, and a sudden surge of energy filled her as the flag dropped down and the race was on, and she was right there with him in his boat, shouting for the pace.

[sroloc--elbisivni]

i am delighted that 'list of facts i know' now includes 'in 1949 France banned Superman for being a morally corrupting character.' how was he morally corrupting, you may ask? well, you see, because he was a liar. for having a secret identity.