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bittywitches · 4 years

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Gone in the Night - Pt. 1

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Summary: Y/N and the twins are looking for a fun Halloween adventure, but it seems they’ve gotten more than they bargained for.

Warnings: Explicit Language

Word Count: 3k

A/N: It’s finally here! Hope you guys enjoy this spooky treat <3

Tags - @brockdolan @livelaughlolobelle @grxysgxrl @guiltydols

• • •

The house itself should have been enough of a warning.

It was an old building, the only one in the neighbourhood that hadn’t been torn down to be reconstructed into bigger houses with much less yard space. It’s grey and blackened wooden walls looked brittle. It seemed unreasonable that the house hadn’t toppled over in the late evening breeze, but it stood firm. Even so, it was uninhabitable still, as the skirting around the sides had been torn off. The front porch, however, looked like it had been torn up and out of the ground as if it were a vegetable a farmer had carelessly plucked out of his garden. The wooden support legs from the front could be seen halfway up, pulled through the earth. In Y/N’s mind it seemed only plausible for something like a tornado, maybe an earthquake to have caused that kind of damage, though she knew that wasn’t possible. While California had many earthquakes year round, usually none were great enough to cause too much damage. Plus, she had a deep feeling that this had nothing to do with unpredictable weather. That feeling made her want to puke.

The railing of the porch stood up at an awkward angle, some of the poles snapped and broken, other’s splintered. The backside, the part connected to the house and leading to the door, had sunken into the dirt, so the entire surface was tilted. Looking at it from the front, seeing the empty dark space below the base with the support beams sticking out of the ground, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like the weird positioning of the porch disturbingly resembled a mouth. She found herself leaning to the side, looking past the beams and the staircase into the empty abyss below the porch, as if waiting for something to appear. It seemed childish looking back on it later, but she was half-expecting a pair of glowing yellow eyes to materialize. But she shook her head, scolding herself, because the only thing she’d probably find under there would be a family of raccoons.

The more she stared at the house however, the more things she found that eerily resembled a face. The dirty and tinted windows at the top with their broken shutters and cracked glass felt like a pair of old eyes, watching as people passed by. There was a dormer that was conveniently placed almost directly center of those windows further down, looking like a crooked nose. She could barely see the top of the roof, but noticed missing shingles, underneath them being ashy gray squares, as if bald spots on this menacing figure. And of course, the deep and dark mouth of the porch with it’s rusty wooden teeth did nothing but send shivers up her spine.

Her sickly feeling only intensified when she realized how starkly this reminded her of 29 Neibolt street. This house, however, did not have a number; she could faintly see the markings of a number near the front door, but the metal plates had either been teared off too long ago for the contrast of the wood to show, or the degeneration of the house over time had simply just taken its effect. Either way, Y/N surely was not eager to look back under the porch now; for if she were to be faced with a sickly leper, she’d most definitely shit her pants.

“So, what’ll it be?”

Y/N and her two friends stood on the front lawn of the lean dwelling, the grass beneath them dry and crunching beneath their feet with each step they had taken. It was funny; she wasn’t really sure how they’d even ended up here in the first place. She remembered them deciding to go buy pumpkins… Grayson was eager not to put off decorating any longer. They’d piled into the car, but… had they bought the pumpkins?

“I don’t know man, these are a bit pricey.” Y/N finally looked away from the house at the sound of Ethan’s voice, only for her attention to be caught by the eager man flaunting the tickets in their face.

That’s right, tickets. This was an event of sorts. A haunted house? Something like that, she thought he had said.

“Why, but it’s a buy one get two free special, you won’t find anything else out there,” he spoke, more directly to Y/N than the twins behind her. Of course, they’d been walking down the street- but why again? Was this near the patch they were going to? Whatever the case, the man had seen them passing by, stopped them with his vivacious attitude and grand voice, barking about the great deal on these tickets.

Y/N looked at the man. He wasn’t a pleasant sight to see. His sunken and hollow eyes seemed almost skeletal, his pale skin an ashy color against the darkening sky. He was tall, unsettlingly tall for a man who looked ancient. He was around 6’1, bordering 6’2, which only freaked Y/N out even more considering he loomed over the twins, the two of whom she’d always thought herself to be quite large. The man’s lanky body parts seemed disproportionate to his narrow frame, his bony arms dangling awkwardly from his sides, his hands seeming too big for them. The wrinkled fingers of his left hand gripped firmly onto the tickets, though they did not crinkle or bend under his touch. They alone seemed to be the one thing in front of her that were crisp, clean, perfect. Almost too perfect, and it hit her in a bad way, almost as much as the outfit the old man had on.

His outfit was one you’d see a vintage carnival worker wearing, one who sat inside a ticket booth at the front of a circus, for example. He wore a stiff white dress shirt, blindingly white compared to his stale fingernails and his yellowing, stained, and chipped teeth that showed with every creepy, crooked grin. The shirt was much too large for him, however, the cuffs of the sleeves coming down to his thumbs. But it didn’t feel like it was too big; no, it felt like the man had shriveled up in his clothes, withered down into the frail man he was within the cotton. He had a crisp suit vest on top, with white and red stripes running down vertically. It too seemed weird, awkward, almost like a protective guard more than a piece of clothing. A bright red bow tie was tied at the base of his neck, matching the color of his shoes, but much of them were covered by his overly large white pants. The same pattern of colours were seen on his top hat. It had a short and flat top with a narrow brim, a pattern of red and white lines going around it.

Now, all of this Y/N could get by with. So the man was a little strange, and he was a bit eager to get rid of the tickets in his hand. What was the big deal?

But there was just something about his face that irked her. The details of his wrinkles, the spots on his forehead, the random tufts of hair from his ears and his nose, the dangling ear lobes and the non-existent eyebrows. His sunken in eyes, almost swallowed by his skin, the bags of them highlighting the yellowing whites even more. His terrible cackle, his horrifying grin. All of these things, but something deeper, some other visceral gut reaction within her told her that something was off. She just couldn’t place it.

“What do you say, my lady?” The old man garbled one more time, raising an eyebrow and giving her a toothy grin, only making her shudder once more. The man raised a frail arm towards the house, gesturing towards the door.

“A haunting experience awaits.”

Y/N’s eyes followed his arm and his gaze, settling on the tall black door resting shut. It gave her a similar vibe to the void under the porch, like something was lurking just past that thin piece of wood. It was an ebony black, a stark contrast to the greying planks of the house. You’d expect the paint to be chipping, but it looked like a fresh coat. It actually seemed to be the one thing from the house that hadn’t been touched by age, other than…

The staircase.

God, why hadn’t she noticed the stair case?

While the porch had been ripped well out of the ground, the staircase leading up to it, the one she had leaned to look around into the darkness under there, was perfectly intact. The wood was still perfectly symmetrical, no splinters, no cracks. It had a different hue compared to the rest of the wood, it didn’t look aged, weathered, or beaten up like the rest of the house did. But how did she not notice it? She swore she looked at it when they first passed by… she’d seen a squirrel scurry across it. It hadn’t looked this new then, did it? No, it seemed blended into the rest of the house, but now… It was distinguishable. It had a presence.

It was still connected to the porch, but somehow still firmly grounded into the earth. This seemed impossible to Y/N, if it was still connected, shouldn’t it also be ripped out of the ground? Wouldn’t there be cracks in the wood from the pressure?

Apparently not. All Y/N could think was that the staircase felt like a long, winding creature. A snake or a serpent grasping onto both ends of this creepy house and the world in front of it, growing and shrinking along with it’s changes to keep it anchored to reality. To provide a pathway to what lies within.

But then again, it could just be her imagination. She had been watching a lot of scary movies recently.

She turned to look behind her at the broad twins, them in their sweaters and sweatpants, Ethan with his hands stuffed into his pockets and Grayson with his hoisted on his hips.

“Sounds like it’ll be fun.” Grayson piped in, a small smile appearing on his face. Y/N’s eyes fluttered over to Ethan’s, and he gave an encouraging nod as well.

She sighed. It was the Halloween season. What better time to get spooked? “Alright. Why not?” She replied and took two wrinkled twenty-dollar bills from the wallet she had stuffed into her back pocket, and handed it to the man, who let out a screechy giggle when he plucked it from her fingers. He placed the three white tickets into Y/N’s hand, leering at her almost maliciously all the while, making her shrivel back.

“A wonderful decision, you won’t regret it.” The man almost carelessly stuffed the money into his back pocket, then clapped his dry hands together.

“Alright folks, “ He threw his arm up in an over the top gesture, His voice seeming to magnify in volume as he did so. “Step through the Stygian door to discover what awaits. Remember-” His other hand came up to suddenly grip Y/N’s arm, his cold palm making her gasp. He drew her close to him, his crooked nose inches from hers when he gave her another foul grin.

“Time is precious.”

He released her, and she stumbled back into the two boys behind her, their arms coming up to keep her balance.

The man stepped back from them, spreading his arms out in a demonstrative gesture as he did.

“Good luck,” he cackled, stopping when his foot met the pavement of the road. He tipped his hat at them and bowed, looking up one last time so they could meet his old eyes. “And have fun escaping.”

A sudden screech came from behind the group, causing Y/N to jump once more, and the three whipped their heads towards the house. A murder of crows squawked and cawed as they flew from the roof of the house, somehow still clear in the darkening sky. There were so many, it seemed like they were spilling out from inside the house.

Y/N let out a nervous chuckle. “Alright, you sure put a lot of effort into your effects-” she turned around.

But the man was gone.

Another shiver went down her spine. She decided to push that feeling of unease away, however, sure that it was just an act the man was putting up for extra effect.

“That guy gave me the creeps,” Ethan mumbled, and Y/N chuckled at him half-heartedly before clearing her throat.

“Alright, come on.” She and the twins made their way towards the house.

Y/N hesitated before stepping onto the stairs, cautious of the darkness so close to her now, even more aware of the strangeness of the porch’s architecture.

But she shook her head. She wasn’t going to let a bundle of nerves stop her from having a fun Halloween experience.

She and the boys walked up the steps, the three of them irked that they didn’t hear the expected moans of the floor-boards.

Y/N took a deep breath. She grabbed the black door knob, twisted it, pushed it open, then stepped over the gap caused by the sunken porch, and into the house.

“What in the Hocus Pocus is this?” Ethan asked, getting a laugh out of her and releasing the tension in her tight shoulders.

Inside, they were greeted with a furnished living room, though it still didn’t look like anyone had lived here in decades. The paint was chipping, wallpaper was peeling, the room just felt musty and old. The walls and ceiling were a yellowy colour, with stains covering many spots. A deep maroon carpet at their feet covered the dark brown planks of the floor, and extended into the center of the room, leading to the old rustic looking couches and coffee table arranged in the middle. A fireplace was placed at the left wall, soot covering the insides and surrounding area, much like the dust covering almost every other surface. A mounted deer rested high above the fireplace, feeling like a sort of gatekeeper for the room they had just entered. It’s dark beady eyes shouldn’t have bothered Y/N as much as they did.

“This is literally some rich dead old white guy’s house.” Grayson finished his brother’s thought, walking into the room, which was dank and dark, the window at the back of the room not helping at all since it had grown late.

“So your guys’ house in fifty years or so.” She followed him, Ethan at her heels behind her.

Ethan scoffed. “Shut up.” He walked past one of the couches, dragging his finger across the leather material only to recoil when he saw how much dust he’d picked up.

“Okay, so where do we start?” Grayson asked, squatting down beside the coffee table. “We’re probably looking for something escape-roomy. A key? A button? Switch?” He ducked his head under it, probably to see if there was anything on the underside.

“I guess so.” She walked past him towards the fireplace, the cobblestone border and burnt up kindling seeming to call at her.

Ethan headed over to a cabinet against the back wall, with some ornate frames settled atop it. Grayson, after finding nothing, got up and walked over to the opposite side of the room, stopping in front of an oak door. He tried the handle, but it was locked. He turned back towards Y/N, and nodded towards the door. “I’m assuming we’re trying to figure out how to get this thing open. To actually start this whole thing up.”

“It’s locked?” Ethan asked.

Grayson rolled his eyes. “No, I just pretended it was for shits and giggles. Yea, dick-for-brains, it’s locked.”

“Damn okay jeez,” He muttered, turning back to the cabinet. “Don’t know what’s got you all worked up.”

Grayson breathed out. “Sorry. Think I’m just a little on edge. Didn’t think I’d be this spooked already.” He turned back to the door, jiggling the handle again before letting his hand fall.

“Yea, that guy was weird…” Y/N crouched down beside the fireplace, leaning her head in to get a better look.

“He looked a million years old.” Grayson added, his voice sounding distant behind her.

“Haha, yea-” Y/N turned her head to the side to look up through the chimney, thinking there may be something hidden up there, only for her eyes to meet two beady red ones.

“Holy SHIT!” She yelled, and screamed when a pair of fluttering leather wings shot down through the chimney and into her face, making her fall on her front into the charcoal and soot of the fireplace.

“Fuck it’s a BAT!” Ethan yelled, flinching away from the spazzing creature.

“GET IT OFF!!” Y/N screeched, pushing herself up and swatting her arms around her. Grayson ran forward to try and help, but the creature swooped down and stuck it’s tiny claws into Y/N’s back pocket, grabbing the three white tickets. Before Grayson could reach it, it flew up into the air, then darted to the other side of the room.

“Are you okay??” Ethan asked, rushing towards Y/N.

“No! That was a fucking BAT-” but she and the boys were interrupted by a loud rattling sound. They turned their heads to see the oak door shaking, almost vibrating, when it finally slammed open with an enormous whooshing sound, a sudden burst of air and wind shooting through the doorway causing the door to slam against the wall, chips of the crumbling paint falling to the floor along with a cloud of dust forming when it did so. The tiny bat, somehow hovering right in front of the door, seemingly unaffected by the currents coming through, flew through the door into the darkness of the other room, still clutching the three tickets in its claws, blending into the sea of black.

The three friends blinked. Slowly, Y/N got up, doing her best to dust herself off before turning to the two brothers, the shocked expressions on their faces still apparent.

“Well,” She pressed her lips together. “I guess it’s begun.”

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shadowywerewolfqueen · 4 years

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Autumn Invading

For Suptober Day 17

Dean was driving home from work and couldn’t help but enjoy the change in scenery. Fall had finally arrived and the trees were now an array of oranges, reds, and yellows. Acorns littered the ground and every time you stepped, there was a chorus of crackles. The chill of the morning was now lasting throughout the day and the sun was taking longer every day to sink beneath the horizon. Dean and his husband were finally able to sit out on the porch at night and watch the squirrels, deer, and other animals start preparing for winter.

Dean finished the last of his pumpkin cream cold brew he had ordered from Starbucks. It was one of his favorite fall menu items as it tasted like a liquid pumpkin pie. Dean smiled gleefully as he thought about all the pies he would be able to make now that fall was here. There was pumpkin, of course, plus pecan, apple, sweet potato, cranberry apple, and so many more. Dean was drooling just thinking about all of the delicious pies.

He pulled into the driveway of his home a few minutes later. His eyes went wide as he took in all the decorations his husband had put up. “Cas, I think you went a little overboard,” he whispered to himself.

There were half a dozen hay bales sitting in the front yard. Every bale had a scarecrow behind it, a metal turkey on top of it, and was surrounded by a cornucopia of pumpkins, multicolored ears of corn, and squashes. Cas had also moved some of his potted plants from the back yard and interspersed them between the hay bales to bring in a splash of yellow and red.

Cas had hung a garland made of maple leaves, pumpkins, berries, pinecones, and sunflowers over the porch railing and around the door. There was a matching wreath hanging on the front of the door, a sign in the middle of it reading, “Happy Fall, Ya’ll.” He had also set up multiple planters with pumpkins and leaves in them on both sides of the porch steps. Along the top of the railing, he had placed lanterns with different pumpkin faces on them. Dean could also make out a couple more scarecrows and ceramic turkeys sitting on the porch near their rocking chairs.

Dean slowly got out of the car and walked up the steps to his front door. He stood frozen for a second, his hand resting on the doorknob. He was slightly afraid to see how much the inside of the house had been transformed. If the front yard was any indication, Dean was about to walk into an autumn wonderland. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

“Autumn invaded my house,” Dean muttered under his breath.

There wasn’t an inch of house undecorated. Many of their pictures had been taken down and replaced with seasonal signs, animal cutouts, and fall paintings. There were signs saying, “Welcome to This Home”, “Happy Fall,” “Time for Giving Thanks,” and many more fall greetings and sayings. There were now dozens of owls, foxes, squirrels, and turkeys flying and jumping across their walls. Dean’s favorite seasonal painting hung on the wall: Baby sitting in a pumpkin patch with Dean and Cas making out on her hood. Cas still wouldn’t tell him just how much it had cost.

As Dean walked further into the house, he couldn’t help but let out a low groan. He should have never given Cas free reign in the decorating department. Everywhere Dean looked, he saw leaves, pumpkins, sunflowers, pinecones, and woodland animals. His entire house was now a medley of greens, yellows, reds, and oranges. As he took a deep breath, his nose was assaulted with the strong aroma of pumpkin spice.

He took a peek into the living room and saw that their normal blue and green pillows had been replaced with yellow and red pillows while an orange throw was laying on the back of the couch. Of course, there was more leaf garland hanging on the fireplace mantle as well as more pumpkins and squashes. A tablecloth with leaves was now covering the dining room table while their pilgrim salt and pepper shakers sat in the middle. A large cornucopia full of maple leaves and vegetables sat behind the shakers. There was even a large scarecrow sitting in the corner.

Dean finally walked into the kitchen, and just like the rest of the house, it had been transformed. All the dish towels had been replaced with autumn themed ones. Cas had brought down their dishware set covered in gold and yellow swirl designs. There were a few foxes, owls, and pumpkins scattered about. A few fake sunflower bouquets were set in even increments across the kitchen counter. In between each bouquet sat orange candles, obviously the source of the pumpkin spice scent.

Cas was standing in front of the oven, pulling out a freshly baked pecan pie. He turned around and set it on a cooling rack before looking up. His face broke into a wide smile when he saw Dean leaning against the counter. “Hello sweetheart, how was your day?”

Dean stared at his husband with as much love as he could muster. Cas was wearing one of his old band tees with a red plaid shirt thrown over it. He also had an apron on that read, “Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice.” His hair was tousled and he had flour on his cheeks from when he made the pie crust.

“Hey baby, my day was good. Nowhere near as busy as yours it seems,” Dean said as he walked towards his husband.

Cas went into Dean’s outstretched arms easily. “I’ve been very busy! What do you think of the decorations?”

Dean pressed a tender kiss to Cas’ lips. “It looks like autumn invaded our house.”

The smile fell from Cas’ face. “If it’s too much, I can take some of it down. I may have gotten carried away.”

Dean reached up to cup Cas’ cheek in his rough palm. “Baby, it’s perfect! It takes a second to get used to, but I think you did a fantastic job! You aren’t allowed to take a single decoration down.”

Cas’ eyes sparkled with Dean’s praise. He nuzzled his nose against his husband’s before sliding his lips against Dean’s. “Thank you, sweetheart. I just pulled a pecan pie out the oven and I have a fresh batch of apple cider in the crockpot. Sam and Eileen are coming over and they are bringing takeout from the Roadhouse. I’ve got a dutch apple pie ready to go in the oven and a pumpkin pie that’s ready for you to take a slice out of.”

“Have I told you recently that you’re the best husband in the world?” Dean asked as he peppered kisses to Cas’ face before finally sealing their lips together.

When they broke apart,” Cas replied cheekily, “You could stand to mention it more.”

“Cas, you’re the best husband in the world,” Dean said softly before pressing another tender kiss to his husband’s lips.

#suptober20 #My writing #my OTP #Destiel

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inevitablesurrender · 3 years

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Finally got a shot of our garter snake this morning... as they were hiding from the lawnmower noises, whoops.

Very healthy noodle. Hope to see baby noodles at some point.

We had another visitor yesterday evening while I was making dinner, and sadly this was the best shot I could get through two layers of glass.

They then proceeded to turn over and not give a fuck for a few more minutes before wandering away.

This would not be a problem save that the local coyote (we’ve only ever seen one, and I’ve only ever heard one, but it stands to reason there are more around) was standing at the edge of the back yard the evening before.

I’ll keep an eye out, but there’s only so much I can do. ...On the plus side, the squirrels have become more cautious.

#yammering #yammering with pictures #cw: snake

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theexleynatureblog · 4 years

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Sorry, but letting your cat outside is a sign of a lazy owner.

Scientists estimate there is between 60million to 160million feral cats in the US. July, 2018.

“Bring in the dog and put out the cat!” - Yakety Yak. Letting our cats outside is almost a part of Western culture, since the days of Fred and Wilma. But we should all no by now that a cultural norm doesn’t make something automatically right.

At the end of every episode, Fred Flintstone let’s the family saber-toothed cat outside, only for the cat to jump back inside through the window and lock Fred out of the house.

Unfortunely, real-life cats aren’t as responsible. If you let your cat outside, and they are comfortable, they will take advantage of the opportunity. I know from experience living in a house with five outdoor-cats.

An article from Battersea.org gives instructions on how to safety introduce your cat to the outdoors, stating ‘your cat may want to explore.’

Well, of course they do! They’re a cat! It’s like telling a human they may want to walk. Here’s the thing: animals are high-wired to do what they want, not what they should. Because in the wild, the things they want is to find food and hunt, which helps them to survive. A captive cat doesn’t need to do that, but they’ll still have that interest in the outdoors and the high-energy associated with it.

The biggest arguments I hear for letting cats outside it ‘it’s their nature’, ‘they deserve freedom’, ‘they need the exercise/stimulation’. This is true. Cat’s are living animals who are designed to expend energy, just like us. Exercise is essential to a pet’s health, and as a pet owner, it’s your job to make sure they’re getting what they need.

The problem is, if you’re doing this by letting your cat roam the neighborhood unsupervised, you’re doing it very wrong.

A cat wheel, recommended for owners of high-energy cats, like Bengals.

First, I’m before I list the many reasons to not let your cat outside, I’m going to list alternatives.

Number one - play

Did you buy a box of cat-toys for your new kitten? Did your new cat play with them a little bit and then loose interest playing by themselves? Purina recommends two 20minutes play sessions for your kitten every day. This time can change depending on your cat’s energy level. Obviously, a really active cat will need more, and an older cat may need less. You cant just dump a box of toys on the living room floor an expect your cat to keep itself busy all day like a toddler would, you have to engage with them!

Cat’s ‘play’ as an extension of their hunting instincts. They’re not doing it to pass the time, they’re doing it to learn and practice how to kill things. The key to productive play is thinking like prey. That long rope? Pretend it’s a snake. Grab that mouse toy and bounce it around in front of your cat like you think an actual mouse would move. Don’t poke or bonk your cats with they’re toys - its not encouraging their hunting instincts and may just make them annoyed and not want to play.

Aside from keeping them stimulated, playing with your cats every day can strengthen their bond to you. A happy and tired cat will have no interest in going outside. The amount of time you’d expect to play with/walk your dog is the same amount, maybe a little less, you should expect to spend on your cat. If you don’t have the time of day to take care of a dog, don’t get a cat.

Also, FYI, don’t use your hands as a toy, especially with kittens. A bad cat bite can put you in the hospital with a serious infection - even if your cat has lived indoors all it’s life. Using your hand to play instead of toys will teach kittens that your hand is in fact a toy. Good luck trying to pet them later.

Number Two - Cat furniture

Ever heard of puppy-proofing? Well, cat proofing is also a thing! If you want to take on the responsibility of owning a pet, be prepared to rearrange your entire house - and buy some new stuff. Cat’s are designed to climb and travel, so they may try to jump to to the tallest places in your house. Don’t want them up there? Consider getting a dog. Spray bottles and scolding may work, but unless you’re giving them an alternative to flex their muscles, it’ll only lead to behavioral problems down the road.

Cat walks are a fun and safe way to let your cat have the run of the house. Not only will it be fun for them, but it’ll make them feel safer. If you cat feels trapped, it may hide a lot of the time. This is especially important if you bring another cat into the house. One cat acting scared may invite the other cat to attack. Cat-walks give your cat the advantage to ‘oversee their kingdom’, and escape a situation that makes them uncomfortable.

But, I wouldn’t expect everyone to have this. If you rent your home, can’t afford this, or can’t build it yourself, it’s not an option. But you can be aware of how you arrange your furniture and shelves. If the cat’s gonna jump up on stuff, you might as well make sure it’s safe.

The bare minimum cat furniture you need (besides a litter box) are scratching posts. Even a declawed cat will want one, because they’re not just shedding nails - they’re marking their territory.

Most predators have a way of marking territory to keep invaders away. Cats do too, with a host of special glands. One of those is called an interdigital (inter-digital) gland located - you guessed it - between their toes, or digits. In the wild, when cats scratch on trees, they are rubbing that scent gland on the bark, to warn other cats this is their territory.

Your indoor cat probably won’t have to worry about invaders, but they will still want to use that gland. In their minds, your house is their territory that they must defend. This is why litter boxes are also important.

You may have seen pictures or videos of cats being trained to use and even flush toilets. It may be cute, but its actually not that great from a cat behavior standpoint. This article from The Dodo does a good job of explaining why NOT to potty-train your cat.

Don’t wanna deal with litter boxes? Get a dog! Because with cats, litter boxes are essential. Not only does it give your cat a place to do its business, but it allows them to exercise more of their natural behaviors. After all, ‘natural behaviors’ are the reason owners let their cats outside, right?

For every cat, there should be one litter box plus one extra. Two cats should have a total of 3 litter boxes, and so on. The boxes should be scooped once a day, with their litter changed about once a week - depending on specific needs. Sounds like a lot of work? Yeah - it is! Plus the smell of ammonia isn’t pleasant. If you don’t want to deal with this - Don’t. Get. A. Cat.

Naturally, people look for short cuts, like training their cat to use the toilet, or letting them outside to do its business. Hey, it works for dogs, don’t it? Well - cats aren’t dogs. They have different behavior. While you can count on that fence keeping your dog in your yard, your cat is going to parkour over that like nothing. While dogs will go anywhere they feel comfortable, cats have an instinct to bury their feces. According to Live Science, this helps them hide from other predators. Cats can be eaten by anything bigger than them, and they know it. It’s a behavior that gives them security. Think about it like having a lock on the bathroom door - in a public place. Would you be brave enough to go without it? Personally, I’d hold it until I got home. Cats probably feel the same way, so they’re going to want to find substrate that’s easy to bury stuff in - fresh soil in a flower bed, or little Jimmy’s sandbox.

This is also why toilet-training is a bad idea. It’s not a natural behavior for cats, and it denies their instincts to bury their waste and mark their territory. Also, what happens when your cat gets elderly or injured, and they can’t jump onto the seat for a few days?

Your Cat can still enjoy the outdoors.

Did you know they make cat leashes? That’s right, you can allow your cat to transverse the yard and neighborhood in safety! The downside of this is cat’s don’t tend to be as excited about walks as dogs do. When I bought a harness and leash for my cat, they plopped on their side and refused to move. I never got to take him on a walk.

If your cat is similarly lazy, that doesn’t mean its impossible, it just means training will be required. With the right balance of motivation and knowledge, a pet can be trained to do anything physically possible. Yes, it’s consistent work and slow progress, but exactly the thing a good pet owner should be willing to do. If your cat is staring out the window and practically running out the door, then they might not even need training. With a lease, you can prevent your cat from killing small animals, keep them from climbing too high in a tree, and keep them out of the street and away from possibly dangerous animals.

On that note, now may be a good time to list the reasons why NOT to let your cat outside! (Warning, this next section may contain intense images of blood, violence, and dead animals. Reader discretion is advised).

Parasites.

Hold onto your stomachs, everyone! We are not taking the gentle road.

When I say parasites, I’m not just talking about fleas and ticks - very common and very overlooked. There are worse things out there. Toxoplasma, for one. This parasite that causes flu-like symptoms sheds from cat feces, and it can be much worse for pregnant mothers (this is why your doctor recommends not cleaning a litter-box while pregnant). To make matters worse, its one of the most common parasites in the world, spreading by - don’t throw up on me - fecal-oral contact, which is exactly what it sounds like. A cat can host the parasite without any symptoms and spread to humans, and that’s not the only one.

Outdoor cats are much more likely to get parasites and harmful bacterial. This is because they consume wild animals harboring parasites, and they can pick up stuff from the environment. A squirrel could defecate somewhere that a cat walks, and later licks themselves to clean. Boom! Infected. Now, your outdoor cat could spread stuff like toxoplasma to your neighbors! There’s your neighbor, working in their flower garden, unaware your cat used it for the bathroom (and buried it). Ope, now she’s whipping her nose with her unwashed hand! Boom! Infected.

Want to learn something really crazy? Cat parasites have made their way to aquatic mammals!

This National Geographic Article gives more information on how the ‘Kitty Litter’ parasite has made it to marine whales and dolphins. This is due to feral and stray cats defecating near waterways that eventually wash out to the ocean. While cats and some terrestrial mammals can host the parasites with out any major symptoms, marine mammals are very different. They are the incorrect hosts for these parasites, and anyone who’s studies parasites (like me) knows, parasites in the wrong host is a recipe for disaster. AKA, death. And like many other species, our marine mammals are going through enough troubles right now.

If you keep your cat inside and use a litter box, there is still a risk of infection, but you’ve significally lowered the potential spread. I say, anyone you takes the responsibility of cleaning a cat box is a hero. I mean that from the bottom of my heart. You are doing your cat and your neighborhood a huge favor. I sincerely thank you. So, when you’re scooping or changing litter, wear gloves, wear a mask, don’t touch your face, and wash your hands thoroughly afterword's. Also, take note of the condition of your cats dropping. Sometimes, to can clearly see worms, or something may just not look right. Remember - as an owner, it’s your responsibility to monitor your pets health. If you see something that doesn’t look right, you can take them to the vet. You can’t do this if you let your cat outside to do there business in the garden a few houses down.

High Death Rate

For feral cats, lifespan is typically two years. 50% of kittens don’t survive their first couple of days. Cats are killed by anything from car collisions, poison, coyotes, raccoons, raptor birds, and other cats. Male cats constantly fight each other for territory and access to females.

This brings up an interesting question. If cat’s death rate is so high, how are there so many in every town? A couple reasons.

Cats have a lot of kittens - multiple litters within a year. Even if only 50% of those kittens survive, that’s a lot of cats that are ready to breed themselves not long after.

Another reason is artificial healthcare. What this means is people will feed, spay/neuter, or rescue injured animals, and then release them. Because of their cuteness, cat’s have a charisma advantage over native predators in a neighborhood like coyotes and raccoons. No one’s going to trap a coyote with a broken leg to take it to the vet. I know that if I hit a cat with my car, and it was still alive, I would definitely rush it to emergency care. Supplemental feeding goes hand-in-hand with this. When people see a large cat colony outside, they may want to leave food out for them to help them out. Cats will eat the food, but it won’t end there. You may end up attracting more cats to an area, increasing the population. But if you were to suddenly stop feeding them, the extra cats are going to starve. You have only provided the animals with limited extra resources. Also, more cats in an area may lead to more fighting amongst them.

Because cats have a high death rate, the population’s method of survival is putting out high numbers. Feral and stray cats are constantly competing for food and running from dangers, and the ones who can put up with the suffering the most survive. This is the reality of nature. Nature is not a garden of Eden with fairies dancing with deer. This is the brutality you are exposing your pet cat to when you let them wonder alone outside.

Cats Kill Stuff

Cats are one of the few animals that kill for fun. Its not that they’re sadistic - they’re instincts tell them to bat that thing that moves, and they’ll do it until the thing escapes or stops moving. People automatically think about birds and small mammals, but cats will also eat insects, amphibians, and reptiles.

Some people swear by this argument, and some people counter the argument by saying stuff like ‘yeah, but windows and windmills kill more birds!’. Really? That’s your argument? Can you imagine if we said that about serial killers? Oh, its not a big deal if Freddy killed a few woman, James over there has killed a lot more!

Like... okay, that’s not as bad, but... we should still do something about it.

Cats, windows, and windmills. Instead of looking at these as three separate problems that we can only solve one at a time, step back and look at the big picture. “Human-caused fatality.” An article from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Services talks about migratory bird fatality numbers and causes. You’ll see a handful of different causes, each with different solutions needed.

You can’t solve a problem by pointing your finger at someone and say “They’re doing it worse”. EVERYONE involved in the problem has to do their part and correct it. For example, window collisions with birds can be decreased by window stickers and ecologically-mindful building planning (not building tall things in high-traffic bird routes).

These small, decorative stickers can help prevent bird-strike deaths.

Another angle to combat the problem is reducing industrial-caused mortality. Open oil pits are a hazard to migratory birds, who land in and ingest the oily water as they migrate. The Migratory Bird Treaty Act hold companies who do not cover their ponds accountable for ‘preventable fatalities’. However, the Trump Administration recently attempted to roll back regulations like these, in order to increase profit of oil and gas companies. Contacting politicians and being a thoughtful voter can prevent policies like these, and save birds and wildlife.

Of course, cat owners can put their foot forwards to help save wildlife life by keeping their pets inside or on a leash. People argue ‘cat’s are natural hunters. So what if they kill a few birds?’. Okay, well, first of all, if you look carefully at the stats, its clearly not just ‘a few birds’. Second, do you know what kinds of birds? No? I don’t either. In fact, we have no control what kind of bird/reptile/mammal your cat will kill. They kill whatever they can catch. This includes endangered species.

This website lists North America’s Endangered Animals. Notice that some of these animals are large mammals, like cougars. But most of the species are small animals that cats are capable of catching and killing. And cats don’t care if a species is endangered. Now, I’m confident that NONE of these species are threatened by cats alone. That’s not how nature works, it takes more than one factor to wipe out a species. Species like the Yellow-legged Mountain Frog are threatened by predation, disease, habitat fragmentation, and climate change (which can make diseases and parasite spread worse). A road through a wetland may not look like a big deal, but that may as well be a ocean for small amphibians and reptiles to cross.

Not only do these animals risk getting crushed by pedestrians and vehicles, but they have no cover from predators - and predators WILL exploit these places. Keep in mind, these animals can’t always just pack up and go - they need specific resources for food, shelter, and reproduction. Some turtles will nest in the gravel of a road because it provides the best substrate for digging a nest. This includes suburban areas - where your cats are waiting. When you add exotic animal predation pressure to a species already suffering from diseases and habitat loss, well - that’s how we lost the passenger pigeon.

In conclusion, please find ways to keep your cat healthy and happy without allowing them to roam unsupervised outside. There are programs that help remove feral colonies using live animal traps, but there are others, like places in Australia, that use lethal means. I don’t like the idea of killing cats. After all - they are adorable, and it’s not they’re fault they are there. That’s purely our fault for releasing out domestic cats into delicate ecosystems. As much as I love cats, I prioritize the health of our ecosystems and environment more, and that calls for removing large feral cat colonies. A few random barn cats of course is no problem, but the thousands of cats living in suburb yards needs to be reigned in. Whether it is done with live traps or kill traps is dependent on the people. One thing is for sure - if we don’t take responsibility for our exotic invasives, we will be paying for it for a long time in the future.

Sources

nola.com

American humane society

Caticles

US Fish and Wildlife Services

#biology #cats #feral cats #exotic animals #pets #pet owners #ecology #enviroment #parasites #endangered species

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner Ch39: The Reunion

Intro: As the remaining Avengers continue their search for Tony, help arrives in the form of an unknown face...and after two agonising years Katie is reunited with her brother.

Warnings: Bad Language words, grief, hellavulotta angst, SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s.

Pairing:Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist

A couple of mornings later, 11 days post the Snap, Nat decided she couldn’t take it anymore and told Steve she wanted to go to Clint’s.

“I have to know.” she said, looking at Steve. He sighed and glanced over her shoulder to Katie who merely shrugged. She knew where Nat was coming from, it was killing her not knowing what had happened to Tony.

“Alright.” he acquiesced, “Let me grab a jacket.”

“I’ll meet you on the jet?” she asked. He nodded and watched her go before he turned to his wife who was studying him over her coffee. "If Barton was alive he would have been here by now.” Steve dragged a hand down over his beard as he dropped onto the sofa next to Katie “I don’t understand why she doesn’t see or get that?”

"Put yourself in her shoes.” Katie sighed as she curled in on herself under a blanket on the sofa as a particularly nasty cramp hit her stomach “You’d do the same thing for Bucky, or Sam, or me.”

"You know that I would." he replied, noticing her shift in position and he frowned but before he could say anything she placed her hand on his bearded cheek.

“Then just go, let her see. Plus, you could be wrong.”

“I suppose it’s happened from time to time.” he quipped and Katie smiled as he leaned over to press their foreheads together.

“Are you feeling ok?”

“Not really” she replied honestly, “But I’ve taken some painkillers, and Dr Kellet is coming over later. Thank fuck she wasn’t snapped.”

“I can ask Thor to go with Nat instead.” Steve looked at his wife who shook her head. “She asked you for a reason.” Katie said gently, “She trusts you. And I think if its bad news, she’s gonna need you.”

“Ok, well, if you’re sure.” he looked at her again and she nodded. “I love you.”

“I know.” she smiled “I love you too. Now go.”

Barton’s farm was deserted. As the two of them walked around, Steve found his attention drawn to the picnic table not too far from where they had landed. It was loaded with condiments, plates, cutlery and scraps of food as a squirrel darted off the top from where it had been routing through whatever other animals had left. Steve couldn’t help but remember the first time he had visited, the normality of Barton’s life outside the Avengers. He had kids, a wife…at the time he’d almost been jealous, wondering if he and Katie could ever get that life. And then he’d gone and caused them both to be on the run, essentially ending that domestic dream.

And if he hadn’t, then Thanos certainly had.

Natasha, meanwhile had stalked straight into the house. Steve, hearing the door snap shut behind her turned and watched as she stalked back out of the farm house and over to the barn at the far side of the yard. Nothing had changed.

“Natasha?” he called.

She didn’t respond. With a sigh Steve jogged after her and followed her into the barn as she dodged round the tractor in the middle to a door at the far side. Steve noticed a key pad at the side and Natasha clearly knew the code as a moment later there was a beep and it swung open to reveal what he supposed could only be referred to as an office of sorts, or as Katie would refer to it a ‘man-cave’. There was a desk and some hi tech coms devices sat on it along with a computer. At the other side was a large flat screen TV mounted on the wall, a small couch, a stereo but none of that was what Natasha was looking at. She’d headed directly to some form of smaller room at the back and opened that to reveal a shelving unit of sorts. On one of them was an empty case that had clearly held a bow and arrow. Natasha then bent over and when she stood up Steve noticed she was holding a government issued ankle bracelet that had obviously at one point been around Clint’s ankle. Not anymore, it was in 2 pieces.

"He's alive," Nat said, her voice cracking “Steve. he’s…he’s alive"

It was good news in a way, but then again, where was he? Surely if he and his family had survived he would have headed to the compound to find the rest of them. But this looked like he had left in a hurry. Alone. Which made Steve think that his family hadn’t been so lucky.

Natasha, satisfied that Clint was alive but clearly nowhere to be found at the farm, suggested they head home and see if they could track him from the compound. Steve hadn’t the heart to tell her that he didn’t think they’d have much of a chance and he knew deep down she probably thought the same thing. Instead he nodded and they headed back over to the jet, which is when the pair of them heard something skulking around the side of the house. Natasha whipped out her gun as they both cautiously approached. As soon as Steve saw who it was he relaxed.

“Hey buddy.” he said, bending down to pet the sandy coloured one-eyed dog

“Clint just left him.” Nat sighed.

“He won’t have been thinking straight, Nat.” Steve said, looking up at her, then around slightly, chewing the inside of his cheek before he made a decision. “We’ll take him home with us.” He stood up and, giving a sharp whistle, he was pleased to find the dog simply trotted behind him, up the ramp and happily curled up in a corner on a fleece blanket Natasha laid out for him.

“Do you know how old he is?” Steve asked, nodding to the dog.

“Well when they found him in 2011 the vets estimated he was about six months old…so seven give or take.” Steve straightened up and he looked around. Clint’s ankle tag had gotten him thinking, there was someone else they should probably check in on as well. He voiced his thoughts to Natasha who nodded, and plugged in the co-ordinates for an airfield in San Francisco which was about thirty miles away from the address Scott Lang had listed on his house arrest details. In little over an hour and 45 minutes later they pulled up outside Lang’s house and told the cab driver to wait.

When no one answered Steve simply kicked the door in and once they were inside they found it had been deserted some time ago. The remnants of a breakfast lay on a plate on the side growing mould and there was a mug and a plate in the sink. Natasha headed up the stairs, as Steve checked around the ground floor to see if there was anything that might give them a clue. The only thing he noticed was a calendar. The date of the Snap was circled, 23rd April, and next to it was written “QR- Research.”

He didn’t have a clue what that meant. As he walked back into the hall Nat came down the stairs and joined him.

“No sign of anything being packed from his closet and his bed wasn’t made.” She shrugged

Steve nodded. “His calendar seems to suggest he had a research date or something but other than that…hang on…”

He stopped by the phone in the hall, the red-light was blinking to show there was a message. Steve hit play and they stood stock still listening to the message.

“Hi daddy” a little girls voice spoke. Steve knew Scott had a daughter, but it struck him then he had never even bothered to ask her name. “I tried your mobile but you’re obviously busy doing cool stuff with Hope and Dr Pymm…Mom said that you should come over tonight for 4pm now your tag is off and it’s your favourite for tea. Oh and I got a new ant farm for you to try out. I love you, byeeeee!”

Scott took 2 years house arrest to be with his family and Steve knew he wouldn’t run out. The only logical explanation was that he too had been turned to dust.

“Think we’ve seen enough?” Nat sighed.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded “Let’s head home.”

***** “Well,” Dr Kellet looked at Katie as she sat up on the bed, “there’s nothing physically wrong. Everything looks ok. I expect the cramps will settle down soon.”

Katie nodded and looked at her hands.

“How are you though?” the Doctor looked at her and Katie sighed.

“I’m okay, I suppose. I mean, I know there’s nothing I can do about it but it doesn’t stop me wondering you know, if I could have done something or-”

“Even in the case with normal miscarriages there’s nothing that anyone can do.” the Doctor spoke softly. “It’s a natural reaction, Mrs Rogers, you’re still in the grief cycle.” the Dr snapped her bag shut. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Give yourself time.”

“That’s what Steve keeps saying.” Katie said softly

“How has he been?” “Amazing.” Katie smiled instantly “He’s been an absolute rock, I know he’s upset himself but he just…” she trailed off. “It’s good that you have one another.” Dr Kellet smiled as she handed Katie her bag containing her pill. Neither of them spoke much, it was a silent gesture that made them both feel a little strange. They hadn’t even discussed the subject but with everything that was going on Katie had to acknowledge that going forward even the simple things like obtaining medical treatment was going to be much more difficult as they’d lost half the people that kept medical centres open. Doctors, Nurses, receptionists, porters…

“I’m going to be meeting with the Local Authorities.” Dr Kellet looked at Katie as if she had read her mind “All the remaining specialists are, sort of a how we go forward planning session.” “Let me know if we can help in anyway.” Katie said “That’s what we have the Stark Relief fund for.” Dr Kellet nodded. The two exchanged goodbyes and the Ob-Gyn left, leaving Katie alone with her thoughts which were disrupted when she heard her phone going. It was a message from Steve to tell her they were on their way home with good and bad news. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know but she assumed the good news was Clint was alive, the bad news being perhaps the kids or Laura weren��t. Deciding she would rather heat it in person she replied and told him she’d leave some dinner for them both in the communal kitchen and with that she headed off to find something he could cook. Such a normal thing to be thinking about. It felt good.

****

Steve and Natasha landed home at just gone eight in the evening. And, given that they hadn’t eaten since breakfast, they headed straight to the kitchen with Lucky in tow and found the leftovers of Katie’s lasagne. Whilst it was warming up Steve gave Lucky a drink and then found some left over chicken and scraps of vegetables from the roast dinner the night before and placed them down in a dish for him to eat. Lucky wolfed his make shift dinner down, and so did they. Between them they ate the entire lot of left overs, along with a helping of salad and then walked down the dimly lit corridors, dog on their heels. It was completely deserted.

“Feels odd doesn’t it?” Nat remarked “I mean it was always so busy.” “We will fix this Nat.” Steve spoke, and he wasn’t sure where his optimism was coming from, but seeing Clint was alive gave him more hope than he’d had that morning.

“Thank you for coming.” She said as they stopped by the stairs that led to her apartment “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Steve smiled, giving her a hug. “Do you wanna take our guest or should I?” he gestured down to the dog. She shook her head “Katie has a soft spot for that dog, besides, I prefer cats.”

That didn’t surprise him in the slightest. He found himself smiling slightly as he replied, “Alright, see you in the morning.” before he watched her up the steps and was pleased to see some of her usual Black Widow swagger had returned.

“Come on buddy.” he turned to the dog which obediently trotted besides him, tongue lolling, his one eye trained on the super soldier.

Katie was awake in bed, the speakers in the room playing what sounded like the Trouble Man soundtrack as she lay on her side, facing the door, her hands absentmindedly playing with the pillow she had clutched to her chest.

“Hey.” he said as he walked in and she looked up, smiling softly. He leaned over to give her a gentle kiss “You feeling ok?” “Yeah.” she sat up “What did you find?”

“Clint’s alive.” Steve shrugged off his jacket and laying it on the back of the chair by the dressing table. Katie gave a sigh of relief which was short lived as she spotted the look on Steve’s face.

“What is it?”

“There’s no sign of him. He’d bust off his tag and left. I don’t think his family made it.” Katie bowed her head “They’re gone? All of them?”

“I think so yeah.”

“Fuck.” Katie screwed shut her eyes as her head fell back and she looked to the ceiling.

“We do, however have a guest.” Steve added, looking over at her.

“Who?”

“Lucky.” At the sound of his name the dog came pounding into the bedroom and jumped on the bed.

“I couldn’t just leave him there” Steve explained as Katie smiled and leaned over to scratch the dog behind his ears, promptly causing him to lay down, his head in Katie’s lap. She wrinkled up her nose “He stinks!”

“Yeah well he’s been alone since Clint left, God knows what he’s been up to or eating.”

Katie looked down at the dog who rolled over for a belly scratch and she obliged.

“It doesn’t look like Lang made it either.” Steve sighed, watching as Katie tickled the animal.

She shook her head sadly, a tear falling onto the bed as Lucky rolled back over and moved to lick the side of her face before he jumped down on the floor.

“Nat wants to give Barton a few more days to cool off before we look for him but I’m not sure he wants to be found." Steve shook his head, dropping onto the side of the bed and removing his shoes and then his shirt thinking back to what he had seen at Clint’s. He laid his palms flat on the bed and dropped his head gently, letting out a sigh. He heard the sheets rustle as Katie edged her way closer to him, leaning her head on the back of his shoulder, nuzzling her cheek against him.

"How is Nat?" she asked.

"A little bit better now that we know he's alive."

Katie nodded as she dropped a kiss to the back of Steve’s shoulder before he stood up, “I’m gonna take a shower, I won’t be long.”

“Okay. Where’s Lucky gonna sleep?”

“I dunno.” Steve eyed up the dog who was now led on his back on the floor as if he’d been with them all his life “Looks like he’s comfy there.” “Yeah, it does.” Katie smiled.

Whilst Steve was in the shower Katie went into the closet and pulled out one of the old duvets for Lucky to sleep on, folding it up and placing it at the end of the bed. Steve was out of the shower shortly and climbed into bed besides Katie, reaching over and turning off the light before he settled down on his back and Katie cuddled up to him, head on his chest

“So what have you been up to today?” he asked gently, his hand rubbing her back.

“Still trying to get a lock on where Tony is.” she said softly “And then I saw Dr Kellet, made dinner and then I wasn’t feeling great if I’m honest. So I came back here and Thor sat with me for a while, just talking.” He pulled her a little closer, his chest tightening at the thought of her hurting and him not being there “What did Dr Kellet say?” “Nothing much. Says I’m physically alright, any discomfort I’m feeling should be gone soon.” “Do you need anything? Pain relief or…” She shook her head “I’m ok, honestly.”

They both fell silent for a moment, before she broke the silence.

“You now, knowing Clint is alive makes me feel a little more optimistic.”

“Optimistic?”

“Yeah, think about it.” she said, her hand tracing shapes on his bare chest “That’s 6 out of 7 of the original Avengers confirmed alive. Tony has to be as well, it makes sense.” “I’m not following.” Steve frowned. She propped herself up, so that she was leaning on his chest “Thor was talking before about how he thought after Ultron that we had been pawns in someone’s intricate game, that someone we know now to be Thanos. But those stones, they have a magic beyond anything we know. Thor doesn’t believe for a second that who’s left is merely a coincidence and neither do I. It’s happened for a reason. Tony’s out there, I can feel it. We just need to find him.” “Honey, I understand what you’re saying…” Steve started, he wasn’t sure he agreed. He didn’t believe in fate, it was bullshit. But before he could say anything else she cut him off.

“Please don’t.” she said, shaking her head. “Don’t what?”

“Take this hope away from me.” she whispered, her eyes locking onto his in the dim light of the room “Apart from you it’s all I have right now.”

He sighed and nodded, chastising himself. If it made her feel better who was he to try and make her think any differently just because he did? Eventually they would have to face facts but now, well he just wanted her to get through the next few days, one at a time so he bit back his response and kissed her head. “Sorry, you’re right. As long as there’s hope, we have a chance.” She kissed him gently before settling back down, and it wasn’t long before she drifted off. *****

Clint had obviously trained Lucky to chase Raccoons as Rocket spent half his time over the next week dodging the dog’s pounces only to eventually solve the issue by screaming at the canine making him halt dead in his tracks, eyeing the animal in front of him with curiosity.

Thor returned from another scouting trip with no news or sign of his people and this time he set deep into a brooding depression, appearing only for meals. Not even Katie could talk him round. Pepper was keeping herself busy liaising with who was left at Stark Industries, turning her attention onto how they could help after Katie had told her about Dr Kellet and the Health Authorities. It kept Pepper busy and gave her something to focus on.

Steve, Natasha and Rhodey spent most of their time talking to the people who were conducting the census and the authorities, whilst Katie buried herself away with Rocket and Bruce trying to calibrate the scanners to reach further into space, bouncing off the NASA satellites to boost their range. But they continued to get nothing. And every night, Steve and Katie would disappear together, out walking Lucky in the grounds, the two of them just taking a moment to themselves and it fast became the time of day the two of them looked forward to the most.

The elephant in the room was Fury’s pager. In the two weeks they had now had it, no one had managed to get working, not even Rocket, despite his attempts to fix the booster that was attached to it. As the 19th post snap afternoon drew to a close, the Racoon let out a frustrated sigh and downed the small screwdriver he had been using and shook his head.

“Shit.” He said, hanging his head. “If I had the right parts I could sort this easy, but without getting up to Contraxier I wouldn’t know where to start.” “What’s Contraxier?” Katie asked.

“A market-slash-junk-slash-booze hole” Rocket shrugged “can find most stuff there. That’s where I stole Thor’s eye.”

Katie knew better than to ask.

“It’s so goddamned annoying.” Rocket continued. “I mean it’s a simple technology too, they’re ten a credit. All it needs to do is produce a magnetic field across each of these coils and bingo.” Katie looked at Bruce whose head had shot up.

“Say that again?” he said gently. “These coils.” Rocket pointed to the item as Bruce walked over. “Each of them needs a magnetic core. All of the little magnetic forces add together through the core and it powers the…what?” he asked as Bruce looked at Katie and she grinned.

“An electromagnet?” She shook her head, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. “That’s all it is?” “I’ve no idea what you Terrans call it, but if that’s what that does then yeah.” “I can’t believe it.” Bruce picked up the device and slid it under the large magnifying glass Rocket had been using “I took my eye off the ball, I could have sorted this straight away…” “You’re kidding me right?” Rocket sighed “Seriously?”

Bruce rushed around, grabbing various bits of material and settled down at a seat bending over the device, his nose barely an inch away from it.

“I’ll fetch the others.” Rocket sighed, wandering out of the room.

Rocket returned a few moments later, flanked by Natasha, Rhodey and Steve just in time to hear Bruce’s yell of success.

“It was an electromagnet. A god-damned electromagnet.” he said, shaking his head as he stood up and placed the Pager on a plinth inside one of the glass cages used to experiment in. He fiddled around with some wires, muttering to himself before standing back. As they crowded round, the screen on the pager lit up. The word “SENDING” flashed across the screen and they all looked at one another.

Another glimmer of hope…

*****

Their excitement was short lived, as nothing came of the device. It simply continued to send the signal for a good 2 days on end, no one answering and Steve found himself wondering if whoever was on the other side had been dusted too.

“More census results.” Natasha said, tapping a button as Steve walked into the room, coffee in his hand, Katie following.

The 3D globe flashed up, along with numerous digital displays of numbers that kept rolling, and rolling increasing in front of their eyes. He placed his mug down and sighed, leaning over the table so he could get a closer look “God, this is a nightmare.”

“I’ve had better nightmares.” Katie mumbled, her eyes on the ever increasing death tolls.

“Hey.” Rhodey appeared in the door and they all turned to face him. “So that thing just stopped doing whatever the hell it was doing.”

Nat, Steve and Katie exchanged a glance before they followed him out of the room.

“What have we got?” Nat asked as they walked into the lab.

“Whatever signal it was sending finally crapped out.” Bruce said as they stared through the glass sided container at the pager that had been running for the last few days.

“I thought we by-passed the battery?” Steve spoke from where he stood a few steps behind Katie.

“Well we did.” Rhodey replied “It was still plugged in it just… just stopped.”

Steve looked up to his left before he glanced back at the item and took a deep breath “Re-boot it, send the signal again.”

“We don’t even know what this is…” Bruce began to protest and Katie cut him off, turning to look at him

“Fury did.”

“Katie’s right, just do it please?” Natasha said, as she too turned from the object to look at Bruce. “Tell me the second you get a signal, I wanna know who’s on the other end of that thing.”

She turned to leave the room and Katie followed her with her eyes as she stopped dead due to the presence of a blonde woman she had never seen before in her life. She was dressed in a red and blue combat suit of sorts which had gold shoulder pads which led into three golden stripes across her chest, culminating in a gold nova-style star of some kind. Katie felt a little bit indignant at the sight if she was honest. That star style had been given to her.

Lucky gave a bark as Katie nudged Steve. He looked from the pager, to her, followed her gaze and immediately straightened up, drawing himself taller as he turned to face the woman as she eyeballed Natasha and spoke clearly.

“Where’s Fury?”

“He’s not here.” Steve stepped forward putting himself in between Katie and the newcomer as he eyed her up and down. “I’m sorry, and I don’t mean to be rude but who are you?”

“Name’s Carol, Carol Danvers.”

“Carol Danvers?” Katie frowned, stepping forward as she instantly recognised the name.

“You know her?” Steve asked and Katie turned to face him.

“Kinda. When we took down Hydra at the Triskellion, Fury had the retinal scan we used hidden under that name, Carol Danvers.” Katie turned from Steve to scrutinise the small woman in front of her. “You were important enough for him to page when people started to vanish, and important enough for him to use your name to hide a clearance under.” Katie paused, looking straight at the woman “Who are you to him?”

“A friend” She said, vaguely “We go way back. I gave him that pager so he could reach of me in case of emergency, I haven't heard from him in over twenty years so I’ll ask again, where is he?"

"Dead.” Nat said simply

“Dead?” Carol’s face slipped a little bit. “How?”

“Thanos.” Katie replied simply.

“The mad Titan?”

“You heard of him then?” Rhodey scoffed “Yeah well, he came to Earth wielding his infinity stones and…”

“He’s been chasing Infinity stones.” it was a statement not a question as Carol closed her eyes, her voice almost a groan.

“He ain’t chasing them, he found them.” Steve sighed “He found them and eighteen days ago he used them wiping out, we suspect, fifty percent of the entire Universe.” “With a literal click of his fingers.” Rhodey added.

"Half the universe?" Carol mumbled to herself, "That explains it."

"Explains what?" Katie questioned.

"It's been chaos out there for the past two weeks, I've been getting distress calls from all over the galaxy." She sighed.

“Exactly why did Fury have a pager which connected him to you for emergencies?” Nat asked, her eyes still narrowed slightly.

“I have powers.” Carol spoke and Steve could tell she was picking her words carefully “From an accident”

“Accident?” he frowned “Yes, that occurred during Project Pegasus.”

Nat and Katie exchanged a glance that Steve didn’t miss.

“What the hell was Project Pegasus?” Bruce asked.

“It was a joint initiative between NASA and the Airforce to analyse and study new aircraft engines.” Rhodey answered.

“To the public.” Kate added softly. “In reality it was the cover used for the project to study the Tesseract.”

Steve let out a groan. “Why does everything come back to that damned cube?” “Yeah well that ‘damned cube’ and I had an accident, and I absorbed its power.” Carol sniffed as she rubbed at her temple “Has Fury never mentioned me to you guys? Not even once?” They all shook their heads.

“That’s a bummer. Especially seeing as you’re named after me.”

“Named after you?” Steve frowned

“My pilot tag” Carol smiled slightly as she looked round “I was Captain Carol ‘Avenger’ Danvers, you are the Avengers, right?”

“What’s left of them.” Steve folded his arms across his chest.

“You were Fury’s first Super Hero.” Katie looked at her, cocking her head slightly, studying the woman some more. “You’re what inspired him to put a gang of us together.”

“Apparently so…”

Before they had chance to question her further Rocket walked in.

“Is that a racoon?” Carol frowned, staring at the creature who looked up at her, raising his eyebrow before he sarcastically replied.

“You want a photo or summin?”

Carol stayed that evening and they sat up late into the night as she explained everything about who she was, what had happened between her and Fury in the Nineties and for some reason, Steve and Katie both felt they could trust her. It was a boost, if anything, to have someone else on their side.

The next morning after a rest and food, she was preparing to set off again and had given their spirits somewhat of a lift with her promise of what she could do.

“I’ve got places I can try, favours I can call in, people I can speak to.” She said, scanning a photo of Tony into her device on the wrist. “And then I’ll go wherever the trail leads. If your brother is out there, and your friends, I’ll find them.”

Katie nodded.

“You should be calibrated to our coms.” Bruce looked up as Carol tapped again at her arm and nodded.

“I’ve boosted your scanners and your signals too.” she said.

Silently Natasha, Steve and Katie walked her out of the facility, Steve taking Katie’s hand in his as they rounded the corner that led to the doors. They swung open revealing the now dark sky and Steve noticed Katie glance up, something which had become a habit, almost as if she was hoping to see a sign Tony was there. Which of course she never did.

Suddenly, Natasha gave a gasp whilst Steve jumped backwards, pulling Katie with him as Carol lit up, like she was on fire, but when he looked closer he noticed it was some kind of bright energy that engulfed her as she hovered off the floor and turned to look at them, her eyes full of humour.

“Yeah sorry, should have warned you about my party trick” she chuckled slightly.

This woman had some power, and it made Steve wonder why Fury had never introduced them to her before. But that was a question for another day.

“I’ll be in touch.” She said and with that she was gone, as fast as she had arrived, shooting through the air like a star leaving Lucky jumping up and barking in her wake.

Natasha looked over at Steve and Katie, and rightly reading the situation decided to leave them alone “I’m going to let Pepper know what she said about finding Tony.” She nodded to the couple and wandered back towards the doors as Katie looked back up again.

“Sweetheart?” Steve questioned, and she turned to face him, her eyes full of tears.

“This is it” she shrugged “This is the best chance we’ve had, and probably will have and…” She couldn’t think of the words to explain how she was feeling. She was excited, excited that they had a plan. But then there was also a feeling of dread in her chest. Dread about what it was Carol was going to find, if she found anything. She wrapped her arms tightly round Steve as he pulled her to him, holding her close.

“Keep hold of that hope.” He said gently, his hand stroking through her hair. “Keep hold until we know any different.”

*****

“Titan is a mess.” Carol sighed, her hologram flickered slightly. It was three days since she had left the compound and this was the first they had heard of her since. It wasn’t great news. A lead on Thanos had taken her to his home planet, even though it was assumed destroyed a while back. “There’s clearly been a big fight here but there’s no sign of anyone now. I have a few more potential leads thought, so I’ll follow them up.”

“Sweetheart.” Steve sighed gently, turning to Katie so she could step into his arms and press her face against his chest and simply stay there, the tears dampening his T-shirt as he gently stroked her head. This had been her last hope, that Carol would find something. But they were still none the wiser and every day that past Tony’s chances were getting slimmer, Steve knew that. After a moment or so she pulled back, reaching up to wipe at her eyes and he looked down at her, his handsome face full of concern.

“I’m gonna go back to the apartment.” she said. “Take a shower…”

“Alright.” He nodded and to make sure he understood that she needed space, not from him, but just to be alone with her thoughts, she reached up, gently touched his cheek and stood on her tiptoes to kiss the whiskers that adorned his chin and face. Steve watched her go before he turned back to Natasha who was bent over looking at something on a tablet.

“What you looking at?” he asked and Nat glanced up at him with a sigh.

“Potential sighting of Clint.” she said, turning it to face him. He squinted a little. It looked a bit like Barton, but he couldn’t be sure. “I ran a facial recognition. Got a few hits, but we all look so different now, we all are so different now.”

Something about that line powered home to Steve as he headed back towards their quarters an hour or so later. The arrival of Carol four days ago had galvanised the group into remembering who they were, even if they didn’t feel like it anymore. They were the Avengers. Fury’s greatest plan, and the ones to whom the survivors of the snap were looking to for direction.

Steve had realised recently that shield or no shield, he needed to be Captain America, even if he didn’t want to be. He had to lead this gang from the front lines, just like always, not as a vigilante that fought the bad guys from the shadows, hiding from a government that had declared him the enemy.

He walked into their bedroom and saw Katie was flat out on the bed, Lucky by her side. Gently he worked the covers up around her, flicked on the lamp on the night stand and gave the dog a quick pat before he pulled off his black sweater and moved into the bathroom glancing in the mirror. He scratched at his chin and gave a sigh. As much as Katie loved the facial hair, Captain America didn’t have a beard, but still, she was going to kill him for this...

Katie woke up five or so minutes later and stretched, her feet kicking at the blankets which had been pulled up around her. She blinked and looked around, Steve’s black sweater was tossed over the back of the chair and she could hear running water coming from the en-suite as the door was slightly ajar. Climbing out of bed she strolled over to the bathroom door as the water stopped and she nudged it open further to lean against the frame, just in time to see Steve raise a towel to dry off his face. When he lowered it she could see the reflection of a familiarly clean shaven jawline.

The beard she loved so much was gone.

He locked eyes with her in the reflection of the mirror, almost nervously. Deep down Katie had known this was coming, it was only a matter of time seeing as he’d settled back into his role as leader of the Avengers as easily as he had left it.

“Captain America doesn’t have a beard…”

She smiled and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his toned waist kissing his muscular shoulder which was bare thanks to his white vest. Wanting to be closer to him she pushed up on her toes to nuzzle behind his ear and his eyes closed when she kissed the side of his neck. He shivered a little at the contact, dropped the towel to the sink and turned in her arms loosely wrapping his own around her.

Katie just stared at him for a moment taking in his cleanly shaven face, the familiar sideburns, and sharp jawline. His hair was still longer though, despite the fact she had trimmed it for him a few days ago. He’d wanted to keep it slightly longer on top, pushed back off his face. To be honest she liked it like that, it reminded her of when they had first met. That said she’d also loved his spikey short do and his longer no-mad locks…frankly he was gorgeous either way.

"You know I really loved that beard," she sighed as she looked up at him “Can’t believe you murdered it…”

“Murdered it?” he raised an eyebrow, as she reached up to gently take his smooth jaw in her fingertips.

“Yes, murdered it. But I’ll let you off, because you are ridiculously handsome.”

Steve smiled a little crookedly and leaning down connected their lips in a soft, slow kiss that quickly became heated, when his tongue touched hers. His hands slid down the length of her back, over her ass, his fingers skating the back of her bare thighs which sent a fire coursing through her body, drawing a soft groan from her as he continued to kiss her, hard. They both needed this, needed the contact, needed to fill that gaping hole and emptiness they had both been feeling for the past few weeks. Katie slid her hands down, tugging up his top briefly as he moved his kisses down the side of her neck. Her fingers grazed his hips then hooked into his belt to begin undoing it but his hands gently stopped her.

“Sweetheart.” He swallowed, his breath deep. “I don’t want to hurt you, you know after…”

“You would never hurt me.” she whispered.

He looked down at her once more, and then he knew he was kidding himself. Over three weeks it had been since they’d made love and that was too fucking long for his liking. His lips crashed onto hers but before they could resume where they had been, they were both jolted as suddenly the air was filled with a loud rumbling. Curiously Steve reached out to steady the mirror which was shaking and then the entire building started to rattle and they looked at each other in confusion.

"FRIDAY?" Katie called out.

"Something has entered the atmosphere Mrs Rogers" The AI responded calmly, "A vessel is being brought towards the facility.”

And then there was a banging on their door, but Rhodey didn’t wait for them to answer. Wrenching it open he ran into the living room calling their names. Katie shot out of the bathroom and into the hall, Steve hot on her tails, grabbing his sweater off the chair and pulling it over his head as he headed into the living room.

"It's Danvers.” Rhodey look at Katie who took a deep breath “She found him."

Katie’s chest began to heave, she felt like her heart was going to pound out of her ribcage. Her hand flew to her mouth as Steve dropped a hand to her shoulder.

"Alive?" she managed to whisper.

“He was when she found him.” Rhodey replied gently.

Without a further word Katie set off sprinting through the facility, not waiting for anyone. She burst out onto the lawns, where Pepper was already waiting, staring up at the sky. Steve followed along with Natasha, Bruce and Rhodey, all of them coming to a stop and watching as the massive space ship rounded the corner, carried by Carol who was encased in a golden orb of light. Katie gently took Pepper’s hand in hers and squeezed her fingers, neither of them moving their gaze from the ship, as it made its way to the ground, deposited onto the grass.

With a hiss the ramp dropped and there he was, being supported by a blue woman. He looked weak. He’d lost a lot of weight, needed a shave, a shower and he looked so pale.

But he was alive!

At the same time Katie let out a soft cry, Steve swore as he spotted instantly how bad Tony looked. He sprinted forward, passing Katie who was rooted to the spot and ran up the steps, taking Tony’s weight off the blue woman. Tony gripped his arm and looked at Steve, before turning his head to watch where he was going.

“I couldn’t stop him.” he said quietly.

“Neither could I.” Steve replied.

“I lost the kid.”

“Tony, we lost.” Steve said gently, looking at his brother-in-law, there was guilt and fear plaguing his face in a way that Steve had never seen before. In turn, Tony studied the man in front of him, scared to ask the next question.

“Yeah, is err…” Tony looked up and his eyes fell first on Katie then Pepper who, following a gently nudge in the back from Katie, took the last few steps towards him

"Oh my God!" Pepper exclaimed, looking him up and down quickly, seeing how sickly he looked. Tony visibly sighed when he saw her, feeling like he was seeing the sun for the first time as she gently pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arm around his neck to hold him close as she sobbed against his hollow cheek. Tony breathed deeply, shaking slightly as he pressed a firm kiss on her cheek.

Katie who was watching the reunion covered her mouth with her hands and found herself shaking as the tears fell thick and fast. Eventually Pepper pulled away slightly and Tony placed his arm round her shoulder as Steve supported him on his other side. A couple more strides and he was in front of his sister looking into those green eyes, eyes that belonged to their mother. It had been almost 2 years since he had seen her, and he could tell she was scared, frightened about what he was going to say. But he only had two words for her.

“Hey Kiddo”

The sound of his familiar greeting broke Katie and she let out a loud sob stepping forward. As she gently wrapped her arms round him she cried into his shoulder, babbling her apologies.

“I’m so sorry Tone, I’ve missed you so much.” she sobbed as he brought a hand up, resting it on the back of her head.

“I’m sorry too.” He said, his voice choking slightly “So sorry my beautiful girl, God I missed you.”

*****

“I need a cheeseburger.” Tony grumbled, and Katie’s face split into a grin as Pepper took hold of his hand from where she was sitting by his bed in a chair.

“Maybe in a few days, pal.” Banner smiled as he gently patted Tony’s shoulder. Katie looked up and Bruce jerked his head to the door of the room. She followed him out and the pair of them were joined by Steve and Rhodey who had been hovering at the back of the medic bay.

“He’s lucky.” Banner looked at Katie “The wound in his abdomen missed everything major and he appears to have fought off most of the infection thanks to Nebula, but I’ve given him a course of IV antibiotics to be on the safe side. He’s slightly dehydrated and a little underweight, but other than needing a lot of rest he should be fine.”

“Thank you Bruce.” Katie said, looking back through the window into the room. Tony had his head lay on the pillow, tilted in Pepper’s direction, a smile spreading across his face as they talked.

“I’m gonna stay with him.” She said, looking back to Steve and then to Rhodey. “Can you make sure that Nebula and Carol get some food and a place to stay?”

“Course.” Rhodey said as Steve pressed a kiss to the side of her head

“I’ll be back later to check on him.” Bruce nodded.

Katie watched the three men leave before she walked into the room. Pepper and Tony both looked up at her as she sat on the edge of Tony’s bed.”

“Pep could you give us a minute?” he asked. She nodded and stood up, touching Katie’s shoulder once as she left, the door clicking shut behind her. Katie turned back to her brother who reached out with his cold hand and wrapped it around hers

“Kiddo, I’m so sorry.” “So am I.” she whispered, her tears forming “There hasn’t been a day over the last twp years I haven’t thought about you.” “Same.I wanted to call so bad but…” He trailed off, his voice cracking. “Stubborn ass hole, remember.” “That’s the Starks for you.” She smiled.

“What I said to you, it was unforgivable.” Tony’s brown eyes locked onto hers, shining with tears. “And I know it sounds stupid but I didn’t mean any of it, not really…“

“Rhodey told me why you said it.” she said softly as she looked at her hands, the tears falling onto the sheets “I should have told you about mom and dad.”

“None of that matters now.” Tony shook his head, gently squeezing her hands.

She fell silent again, wiping at her face, before she took a deep breath, steeling herself as she knew she had to tell him what had happened. Because if he found out of someone else…

“Tony, there’s something you need to know, before anyone else tells you.” she looked at him.

“What?” he frowned.

“When Thanos, when he came to Wakanda…” the tears still fell “I was…I was pregnant, but we didn’t know and…” “Was? Oh no.” her brother’s face scrunched up as his hands wrapped even harder round hers. “Kiddo I’m…” “Don’t.” she smiled sadly at him. “Don’t say you’re sorry, please.”

“I am sorry. Sorry I wasn’t there with you.”

“You’re here now” she looked at him. He smiled and opened his arms and she lent down next to him, gently laying her head on his bony chest, closing her eyes and relishing his presence. It was as if the past two years had never happened as she lay there whilst he comforted her, the way he always had done.

“Nice hair by the way.” he quipped, making her chuckle.

“Thanks. Part of my disguise.” “Mmmm doesn’t work, can still see your face.”

“Why do you think Steve grew a beard?” she looked up at him

“Spangles grew a beard? A proper one?” Tony cocked his head to one side, eyebrow arching.

“Yup.” Katie nodded. “It was pretty impressive to be fair. I’ll show you a photo at some point.”

Pepper returned to the room at that point and Katie sat up, moving off Tony’s bed, pulling another chair up from the corner. He lasted approximately twenty more minutes before sleep overwhelmed him and he closed his eyes, out for the count.

“You should go.” Pepper looked over at Katie. Katie started to protest but Pepper cut her off. “I know you think you’re invincible, but you’re not. Maybe Steve won’t put his foot down with you over this but I will. You’ve had an ordeal, we all have, but you especially need to look after yourself. Go to bed.” “Damned.” Katie frowned “When did you get so bossy.”

“Comes from living with him.” she jerked her head at Tony “The amount of times I’ve found him collapsed over a computer.”

Katie smiled fondly before she clocked the stern look Pepper was giving her and stood up, “Fine…but…” “If anything changes I’ll get FRIDAY to call you straight away.” With a deep breath Katie stood up, dropped a kiss to Tony’s head and left. The rubber band that had been wrapped around her chest for so long had slackened but getting Tony back was the tip of the iceberg. She knew that the next step would be to find Thanos, and none of them would rest until they did.

After making sure Carol and Nebula were settled, and thanking them both for what they had done to get Tony back to them, Steve walked back to the apartment, grabbed a beer and headed out through the patio doors into the large garden area to let Lucky have a mooch around. He felt much better than he had in ages, like someone had slotted a large piece of the puzzle back into place. Once Tony was stronger, maybe they had a chance of finding Thanos and reversing all of this. And then, well, maybe then they could have a shot at being a family. He took a pull from his bottle and looked out over the grounds. It wasn’t a bad place to bring up a kid, he supposed. Or maybe they should get their own place, just like they almost had 3 years ago. The more he thought about it, the more he started to think that was the better option. Did he really want a kid surrounded by all of this? More to the point, he found himself wondering if he wanted himself surrounded by this anymore. A year or so ago, he’d jumped at the chance to get back into the thick of it, but now he just felt tired. He’d fought for so long, given so much, maybe it was time to get out, take a back seat like Tony had.

Taking a deep breath he finished his beer, called Lucky back to him and headed back inside. He’d just thrown his empty bottle into the recycling and was contemplating heading back to see how Tony was when the door to the apartment opened and Katie stepped inside. She looked tired, but almost, dare he say it, happy…

“Hey.” He greeted her as she shut the door “How is he?” “Sleeping.” she crossed the hall towards him “He’ll be out until the morning I expect.” “And you?” he asked, opening his arms.

She smiled, stepping into his embrace “I’m ok. What about you?” “Me?” he asked.

“Yeah.” she looked up at him. “Everyone seems hell bent on making sure I’m ok, they seem to forget you.” He took a deep breath, “It’s not important.” “It is to me.” she looked up at him.

“I’ve got you.” he shrugged “And well, as long as I do I’ll be fine baby doll.” “You’ll always have me.” she said gently, and then neither of them knew how but they were kissing again, picking up where they had left off before in the bathroom, the kisses growing violent as they both poured every bit of emotion into one another, both clawing at the other with a desperate touch. Steve fell towards her, pushing her back into the wall which separated the hallway from the kitchen area and pressed himself tightly against her. She slid her hands up beneath his top, her nails digging into his back, stinging his skin enough to elicit a deep, guttural moan. At that noise Katie let out a high pitched moan of her own as his hands skimmed down to the back of her thighs as he gripped tightly, hoisting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and couldn’t help but mutter rapidly into his ear, amid tight, short gasps. “I need you Stevie, I need you, please.”

He dropped his lips to her neck, trailing his teeth along the arch of her shoulder. "I need you too.” his voice was dark and deep which made her moan even more, and he didn’t wait for a response before hoisting her higher and carrying her into the bedroom where he dropped her down onto the bed. His hands gently reached down and they separated long enough for him to remove her top, Katie repaying the favour as she pulled his jumper and vest off in one move before she threw her arms around him as his lips dropped again to her neck. He slipped one of his hands into her shorts and she bucked at his touch as he gently played with the flesh letting out a groan as he found her ready for him, slick and hot.

“Fuck.” he mumbled before his hand moved to the button at the front of her shorts and hers fell to the buckle on his belt, their mouths still tangled together as he kissed her hard, needily before he tugged on her knees, pulling her flat down. Taking her shorts and underwear off in a swift glide down the bed, he shimmied out of his jeans and boxers, Katie taking the chance to hastily remove her bra before he fell onto her once more, using his knees to push hers apart. He propped himself on his elbows and dropped down to kiss her, slamming his teeth into hers in desperation as she was clawing at his back, arching up as she groaned into the kiss, his name falling from her lips as he pulled away slightly.

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you?” he looked at her. She knew he was worried, so she gently reached out, running her finger over his once again smooth jaw line.

“Promise.” she assured him. He swallowed thickly and as he worked into her she let out a soft moan as he started to move slowly at first, almost patiently as she hiked her legs up around him. He wanted to take it slow, he really did, but he found he couldn’t, and she didn’t want him to either. She was urging him on and soon they were fucking with avaricious force, both chasing a gratification they hadn’t felt in weeks, and the more he gave the more she wanted.

Her hips met his with every drive forward he made as she writhed and mewled underneath him and it wasn’t long before she felt herself beginning to go. Steve could read her body signs better than she could herself and as her breath began to go he pressed his mouth back to her neck, groaning himself

“You feel so good, so fucking good.” his mouth nipped at her ear as he spoke “I love you so much, baby..” and that was it, with those words she was undone.

“Stevie.” His name tumbled from her lips, in little more than a squeak as she tightened round him again and again. Then, as the heat burst between her legs and the lights exploded in front of her eyes she let out a short gasp, her nails digging further into his back, smarting the skin as she succumbed. Steve kept thrusting through her orgasm, the coil in his own belly tightening more and more.

“Katie, fuck!” he closed his eyes, his head dropping to her shoulder and he spilled himself into her with a jerk and a moan before his elbows slowly slipped out from under him and he collapsed on top of her, their breathing coming in ragged gasps as they both lay delirious from the utter carnal nature of it all. Katie’s hands gently trailed up his back and into his hair to begin their usual caress, these moments after he loved as much as the act itself. Gently he moved his head to slide his nose against hers before he kissed her softly, tenderly this time as they held each other close.

Skin to skin, soul to soul, the pair of them as together as they could be, each lending the other a soothing reassurance that whilst they were still grieving, and would continue to grieve for however long they needed to, they hadn’t lost everything. They still had one another, and as long as they did, they would be ok in time.

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gerbiloftriumph · 5 years

Text

So you wanna be a king (pt4)

orrrr mayyyybe juuust cosplay one since that’s way less responsibilities

(incidentally, the fabbo shirt’s from redbubble, https://www.redbubble.com/people/midorilied/works/29739636-do-it-for-him-white-text, if @midorilied doesn’t mind me showing it off)

If you’ve followed along thus far then you should have a cloak, jerkin, pants and boots. A fully wearable Graham perfect for romping around the countryside. But it feels incomplete without the accessories, so let’s give those a try.

Part 4: Pouches n Bracers

(Again, these are all just suggestions and a How I Did It from a very novice cosplayer. Disregard all points, or take the ones you like. improvise adapt overcome)

Perhaps the best part about adventure games is the stuff. The bottomless inventory, a random assortment of strange things that all Do A Thing. Graham carries everything from money to badgers to literal humans in his pockets (presumably his mother is a seamstress trained by the gods).

This...won’t be you. Sorry.

Now, to be fair, I saw a Graham cosplay on tumblr (I’m so sorry, I don’t remember who--does anyone know?) who sewed pockets into their cloak, which is delightful and a very sweet idea!

However, I prefer the swoosh and snap of my cloak, and heavy things like cell phones in your cloak will alter the weight. Something to keep in mind as you decide how to manage your outfit.

(forgive the blur--I haven’t been able to get a still of what it looks like when swooshing. Perhaps now I’ve got real boots I’ll do another gifset of it)

Thus, all my phone, money, keys, and backup freckles (e.g., liquid eyeliner) must live in Graham’s belt pouches instead of cloak pockets. Lord knows what Graham actually keeps in his pouches, game-wise. Squirrel snacks, maybe, to avoid repeating the fiasco from Tourney Day?

This time I followed a pattern. I know, weird, right?

I wanted functionality, but I wanted them to be slim and simple, too. I found a guy on YouTube, and he comes with a .pdf template pattern in his video description! It’s super detailed, easy to follow, and better than me rambling. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPhQlaI_UX4

Three years later, they’re starting to look a touch tired. I used a plain dark brown fabric (was it broadcloth?). Half a yard is plenty. If it’s semi-close in color your your belt, ideal. I made two sizes, two large for phone and makeup for touchups, and one small for keys and money. The large ones are 3″ wide and 5.5″ tall, and the small one is 2.5″ by 4.5″, but size them to whatever important things must be on your body at all time.

I added snap clasps to keep them shut (never know when you’ll be pounced by goblins, or trip over a crack in the sidewalk), and I found some plain silver buttons to sew over where the snaps sit--added bonus, hides my sloppy stitchwork. I took some of the leftover suede rope from the jerkin for the front--my ugliest secret is that it’s really horrible looking super glue dribbled everywhere. Hasn’t moved in 3 years, tho. /victory fist bump

I turned the corners of the front flaps so I wouldn’t have square tops. I didn’t trim off the excess fabric since I thought keeping extra weight in the corners would help keep the flaps down. You could always sew in another layer of something sturdier if you didn’t want the flaps to curl over time--it’s probably worth it. It does make a difference.

So, in doing this half-tutorial, I’ve just realized that Graham’s actual model has three pouches of various sizes on his left side only which means I’ve been wearing and drawing him wrong since day one. So. That’s cool. themoreyouknow.gif

(still not changing anything tho; I like keeping my phone on my right side)

Bracers!

Graham’s an archer. So, he’s got bracers on his forearms to protect himself. (presumably his rippling muscles are protection enough since he stops wearing them between his 30s and 70s.)

We have the same problem here as with the jerkin: the bracers seem practically sewn onto his arm. And that’s maybe doable, but I’m mortal, not digital, and I want this to be comfortable and also easy to remove. Now, unfortunately, my method loses the black bands he has on his bracer underbellies--they don’t seem to fit. If you have a nice solution, let me know.

Get yourself a ruler, paper, a scrap of elastic band, a sheet or two of stiff felt (probably like this stuff: https://www.amazon.com/Darice-Stiff-inches-5-Pack-FLT-0331/dp/B00KNAKJH6), and all the leftovers from your jerkin.

Measure around your wrist--mine’s 6″, so we’ll use that. Draw a 6″ line on a piece of paper, find the center of the line, mark it. Measure how long down your arm you want the bracer to go. I like 8 and a quarter inches myself (make it as long as you can without the bracer edge rubbing your inner elbow because that gets real old real fast). From the center mark of your wrist line, make a straight line down (a grid is helpful here to keep it straight). At the point where your bracer stops, measure around your arm: I got 9″. Find the halfway mark of your base arm line, add that to the paper. Connect the corners. It should look approximately something like this:

Cut out and test your design to make sure it’s comfortable (you want to forget you’re wearing these. keep them away from your elbow. f’reals). Cut the shape out of your stiff felt, and cut out your brown fabric leftover from your jerkin, with a margin all around so you can fold it over and sew (I did an inch I think, because I’m a coward). For the hand guard, I did half my wrist (3″), then measured my hand to see how high it had to be to just scrape the knuckle. For my hand, that’s about 3″, give or take. Curve it, test it, cut it out of felt and brown alike, and cut out some extra brown to cover the inside of the hand guard too, as you don’t want to see any white against your hand.

Fold the loose edges over the felt and sew it down along the marked places:

Make little snips in the hem of the hand guard hem as you go to achieve that tight curve.

I was nervous about combining the two pieces as I needed easy wrist flexibility. The two lines that aren’t hemmed I left “raw” and sewed the brown edges together as was, so that there’s no stiff felt against the wrist at all.

Another secret: my bracer grommets aren’t the same as my jerkin grommets--they’re much smaller, like 7mm, because I’d planned on making my jerkin with this smaller size earlier to replicate Graham’s tighter lacing but it didn’t work out--the larger ones from your jerkin work fine.

It’s the same process as the jerkin, too. Every inch from the wrist to the elbow gets a grommet, plus its corresponding partner. A-likea so:

The next part might be optional. I cut another piece of brown about the same size as the bracer body again, and sewed the edges along the inside, just past the grommets, so that when you wear the bracer, you don’t see the shirt beneath your laces. It also gives you a place to hide the loose ends of your suede rope once it’s tied into place. Probably optional.

Graham’s bracers have definition near the elbow, and I was annoyed that I couldn’t find a way to fit in the large black bands without messing up the simplicity of my pull on/pull off system, so to reference it I found thin black trim and sewed it along the bottom hem, just below the last grommet.

Okay, lace it with the suede rope and try it for fit. You may notice the hand guard is a bit unwilling to stay attached. Get the super glue, and--

no wait please don’t do that

let’s just make an elastic ring instead

My elastic was white: I colored it with a brown marker so it wasn’t as jarring if anyone caught sight of it. Sew it into your existing hemline, wherever it feels natural to wear it as a ring on your middle finger. A strip of fabric or trim might work as well, but the elastic makes it easy to pull on.

I desperately need to update my gray wristbands with real rope. This is trim, and I do not like it. But it was free, at the bottom of my cosplay bin, and I’m so tired of spending money on this costume.........anyway, loop the rope of choice three times around your wrist, sew it into a closed loop to avoid dealing with knots and bows, and tug the whole thing on and off over your hand. pls do not make it too tight.

And that’s looking like a proper cosplay. Just a few more accessories and also the hat. I assume everyone just wants the adventuring hat, but if there’s any interest in the crown, I could toss that in too, maaaayyyybbeeee?

#kings quest #King Graham #King's Quest #cosplay #midorilied #hey midorilied if you don't want your shirt in here lemme know i'll swap for a different picture #just two more to go~!#tutorial

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doctorcolubra · 5 years

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How about Eleanora or the Fall of the House of Usher for Jarrich? (Fluffy or no, I'm interested in what you do with these!!)

I say that I want to write drabbles or ficlets and then end up with almost 3K, typical. I really want to get better at short-form stuff (still taking prompts if anyone wants to send more).

I’m in a haunted house mood for fall so here’s Fall of the House of Usher!

_____________

Richard doesn’t like driving, or at least he doesn’t like traffic. The hostility, the birds flipped, the goddamn honking. He’s doing okay out here in the country, on empty roads where no one can take offense at his speed, his signalling, his sloppy lane changes or his occasional hasty U-turns. Jared’s in the passenger’s seat, asleep. Collar askew, hair windblown, lips parted—keep your eyes on the road, Hendricks.They’re driving back to Palo Alto from the Central Sierra Audobon Society Birders’ Convention. “I was going to be Muriel’s plus-one,” Jared had said one day last week. “But I suppose I can go alone. I have my safety whistle.”“For what, bears?”

“Of course. With black bears, your best strategy is to stand your ground, if you’ll forgive an expression sadly tainted by the legal system. You make yourself look as big as you can.” Jared held his arms out wide, hands in his raincoat pockets to make his skinny frame broader. “And that’s where the whistle comes in. Noise frightens the bear off. Those same tactics would probably get you killed if you ever met a grizzly, though,” he added. “But you won’t. In spite of what the state flag would have you believe, the last grizzly bear in California was shot in the ‘20s.”

“Where is this place?” Richard said, and then: “Don’t go alone, for fuck’s sake. Can I go? With you, I mean?”

“Richard…” Jared lit up. “Oh, I would love to take you. But I couldn’t possibly take you away from—you have so many things to think of…”Even Jared couldn’t quite pretend that Richard is still a busy CEO.So they did BirdCon. Richard was wondering if he needed glasses or whether he was just bad at this hobby, because Jared and the other birders kept losing their minds over woodpeckers, warblers, flycatchers, sparrows, raptors and vireos. Richard, once, correctly identified a squirrel. Jared drove here, anyway, so Richard’s returning the favour on the way home.And he’s not lost. He’s not. He’s supposed to be in some town called Confidence on the edge of Yosemite Park, and follow the highway from there to Modesto, and from there he can figure his business out.The Google Maps lady has been giving suspicious instructions for awhile now, though, and Richard doesn’t think he’s anywhere close to Confidence. Which, ha ha, super funny. He’s on a stretch of road that’s…well, not desolate. It’s pretty. Hills, grass, trees. Whatever. But he’s trying to figure out if Google Maps Lady is on the level, and the land around them doesn’t hold any clues.When a cop car rolls up behind him, he’s almost relieved. (Almost. He’s sweating a lot.) Jared jerks awake while Richard fumbles with the window switch.The stocky, brown-skinned cop bends to the window. “You boys looking for the casino?”“Wh—no,” Richard says. They couldn’t have blundered into Nevada somehow. Right? No, absolutely not. “We’re…are we near Confidence? The town, I mean?”“You’re on Miwok tribal land,” says the cop. “Tuolumne Rancheria.”“Oh.” Richard has no clue where that is in relation to Confidence, Yosemite, Modesto, or Palo Alto. Fucking Google. “Um, sorry. Are we allowed to—we shouldn’t be here, right?”The cop avoids a complicated question of colonialism. “You’re not in trouble, just thought you might be lost. Casino’s down that way. Where you coming from, Jamestown?”“We were up in Yosemite, for—for BirdCon—and we were supposed to pass through Sugarpine and then Confidence,” Richard says, disconnecting his phone from the cord and showing the officer the screen. “The GPS voice kept saying to stay on 108, and I was doing that, and then the road turned into the E17…”The cop looks at Richard’s phone and chuckles. “You’re real lost, wow. I don’t even know how you did that.”Between the two of them, they determine that Richard had made some catastrophic error while typing the address into GPS, and Maps is now trying to send them to Confidence, New Mexico. Richard is indignant—the one thing he wouldn’t fuck up is data entry—and blames Google’s shoddy user interface and aggressive auto-correct.“Yeah, maybe,” says the cop with a shrug. “But you’re still going the wrong way.”“Oh,” Jared says suddenly, softly, looking ahead. He’s been quiet and bleary from taking an extra allergy pill, but now the haze has lifted. “Oh, no, I know just where we are.”Richard turns back to look at him. “You do?”“I used to live near here. For awhile. Not on the reservation, naturally. But I know this road. Thank you, officer, we’ll be fine from here,” says Jared to the tribal cop, who wishes them goodnight and heads back to his truck.“You don’t have to drive,” Richard says, plugging his phone back in. “My fuck-up, I got it taken care of.”“No, not at all—I’m so sorry I fell asleep on you, Richard.” Jared is straightening his collar, brushing his dark hair back into place with his fingers. “I should have stayed awake to navigate—”“Come on. It’s the end of the day, it’s my turn.”“Okay. But could we…no, that’s self-indulgent of me…”“What?”“I think—I think I might like to drive past the house. If it wouldn’t take us too far out of our way. We don’t have to stop, even, but…” Jared trails off, looking out the window at the hills. “Only if there’s time. I’m sure there’s not.”“There’s lots of time, now that we’re not…going to fuckin’ New Mexico. Just—point me where we’re going, it’s okay,” Richard says. Muriel would have stopped for Jared. “We’ll take a look.”The house is low and white and dead, like a broken eggshell lying amid the trees. Peeling paint, windows boarded, a child’s plastic car lying sun-bleached on its side, no cars in the gravel driveway. Jared doesn’t seem disappointed—in fact, he’s quietly elated. “It’s empty,” he says in wonder, staring out the window. “It’s all empty.”“That’s…too bad,” Richard says, but he’s guessing. “Is it? Did you like this place?”“No,” Jared says, the way he always says these things. Light, soft, without rancour. He hasn’t looked away from the shabby house in the trees. “I didn’t at all. Could we—no, I’ve already taken us out of our way…”“You want to get a closer look?”“Maybe. Yes. For a minute or two, Richard, not long.”The grass is knee-high around the front yard, where the trees clear, and Richard can see glimpses of weeds out back that would come up to his shoulders. He’s picking his way carefully toward the door, convinced that he’ll step on a snake at any minute. Poisonous snakes. He’ll get bitten. Richard is not mentally or spiritually equipped to be bitten by a snake, it’s haunted his nightmares ever since he was a reluctant Boy Scout in Tulsa. He’ll end up in the hospital being laughed at by that goddamn doctor. Then a painful death, then—“The door’s off its hinges,” Jared says. “We could go inside.”“Is that safe?” Part of Richard wants to shake Jared out of this reverie: don’t look at this, don’t remember, don’t get lost. But he knows that if he did, Jared would apologise profusely and never mention the house again. And that’s bad, Richard knows. Because something bad must have happened here. “Are you okay with this, man? We don’t have to go in. I mean, I will. I know you came to check out Peter Gregory’s stuff with me, so. Fair’s fair. But…I’m not trying to—to talk you out of it, unless…like, unless you want me to talk you out of it?”Jared has opened his backpack (practical, pristine, everything tucked in orderly pockets) to get out his flashlight. But he looks back at Richard and smiles. “It’s funny,” he says. “I barely remember the year I lived here. The brain is an amazing organ—there we are…” The flashlight’s blue-white glow shivers over the front hall of the house. “Hello? Anyone here?”Silence. The flashlight’s a necessity, but there’s still some sunlight streaming in from outside, and that’s all that’s holding Richard together. It’s not dark yet, but as Bob Dylan said, it’s getting there. Everything’s dusty. Good thing Jared’s already popped an allergy pill.Richard follows Jared, using his phone for more light, looking at the time capsule of a house. Harvest gold and avocado kitchen, landline phone on the wall with its cord a cramped spiral tangle. Warped bookshelves disgorging hoarded piles of magazines. Someone must have tried to clean the place before giving up: there are garbage bags and boxes everywhere, Pine-Sol and Febreze bottles, mops and brooms at rest in the corners. The ceilings are water-stained and in places the paint has buckled away from the wall, bubbling outward in layers that Richard instinctively wants to peel away.“What are we looking for?” he asks Jared.“Nothing,” Jared says, tentatively pushing open a half-closed bedroom door. A teenage girl’s room, walls papered with Tiger Beat and Big Bopper pages. Jonathan Brandis, the Hanson boys, Leo in his salad days, young and green. (Richard knows too much about magazines from this era. But that’s another story.) “Nothing special—oh, Richard, don’t look so frightened, please. We can go back to the car.”“No,” Richard says, stubborn now. “Not until you’re done with…this. Closure. Right? That’s what this is. Isn’t it?”“Maybe part of the process of closure, yes.” Jared moves to the next bedroom door. “This wasn’t the worst place I ever lived. I think I was relieved to get here. It felt safe, safer. Back then. The Alguires were strict, but they didn’t hurt me. Just…I’ve forgotten so much about living here. If you’d asked me yesterday to list all the homes I’ve ever had, I would’ve left this one off the list. But I was here for almost a year. Eleven months, I think.”“How old were you?”“Ten.”“I don’t remember ten either, really,” says Richard, staying in the teen girl’s room and raising his voice a little to be heard. “I mean I know where I was and what I was doing. We never moved, same house in Tulsa all my life. But I don’t remember being ten. It sucked, I know that.”“How come?”“School.” Richard used to rage over this, why did they do it, what was wrong with me, but in Palo Alto everyone else had a similar story, and he got over it. Kinda. “Everyone hated me.”“They just weren’t ready for you,” comes Jared’s voice from the other room, as inexplicably fond as always. “The solitary genius.”Sometimes Richard’s not sure if Jared’s making fun of him or not. Who could actually believe this stuff? What would it even be like to be so earnest? Terrifying, Richard thinks.He’s afraid that somewhere in this house they’ll find something really dark: chains and shackles on a radiator, or a potty chair in a locked closet. The house is depressing, but in an ordinary way. The former inhabitants must have verged on clinical hoarding, but the situation wasn’t bad enough to get on TLC. Just a particularly good archaeological record of the early ‘90s.Richard makes his way further down the hall, still on the lookout for snakes. It’s darker, and then, suddenly, brighter—the back door is gone, open to the audience of Sonora pines. Shafts of slow gold afternoon sunlight break through into the dark little house, nurturing a tidepool of vegetation. Moss is spreading across the rotting wooden floorboards, with leggy weeds crowding in the brightest spots. Tiny green tendrils trace paths from the shadows into the light, breaking into full leaf where the sun hits. The air smells damp, fresh, alive when everything else in this house seems dead. Flourishing.He wanders back to find Jared in the other bedroom. Jared’s poking through a big Rubbermaid tub that seems to be full of toys: headless Barbies and uncanny baby dolls, loose Lego, die-cast cars, green plastic army men, neon water pistols empty of their charges.But then a look of recognition breaks over his face and he reaches in to pull out a recorder, still in its blue plastic sleeve, a sheet of music folded inside.“Mrs. Alguire hated noise,” Jared says. “This was her house, the year I lived here. She used to confiscate inappropriate toys. I don’t mean to say she was unkind—she was a step up from my aunt’s place. But she did like silence. And I…” He slides the recorder out of its plastic sleeve. “I always wanted to play an instrument, or—when I got to Vassar I was allowed to sing. I liked that. But one day I found this in the inappropriate toys box. Even if I couldn’t make music, I thought…I thought I could make noise. Maybe somebody would notice if I was loud. I don’t know what I wanted them to notice. I was already getting as much help as anyone could give me.”“Not enough.” Richard is beside him, digging through the Rubbermaid tub too, examining the Barbies and the Hot Wheels and all the other miscellanea in the pile. “I had one of those plastic recorders for about three days,” he says. “My parents took it away too. Not that—I mean, it’s not the same as your thing.”“Well, some adult reactions become more sympathetic as we get older.” Jared polishes the dust off the recorder with a clean tissue from his pocket. “But the recorder was a very important part of early music, you know. Some beautiful airs were written for it. No instrument sounds very pleasant when it’s made of plastic and costs a dollar.”“Yeah, true.” Richard fishes the sheet music out of the recorder’s sleeve and unfurls it, skimming the notes. He has no talent himself, something he discovered from the childhood piano lessons that he got and Jared didn’t. “‘Early One Morning’—oh, I remember this from an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer…”Jared laughs. “You’re so cultured, Richard.”“Okay, that, right there, that was making fun of me,” Richard says—he’s grinning, not even mad, just relieved that he finally caught Jared just teasing him for being an idiot, the way a normal person would. “You know goddamn well that’s not cultured.”“I would never judge you for—”“You should, though, Jared. You should judge the hell out of me. For everything.” Richard bumps his arm gently against Jared’s, one of the few tactile gestures of friendliness that he’s learned how to use properly. “You’re gonna blast some ‘Early One Morning’ right now, aren’t you?”“I shouldn’t.”“It’s your moment, c’mon.” Richard likes to tempt Jared—sometimes to make him do things he needs to do for his own good, sometimes for more selfish reasons. To enjoy Jared’s purity, and to feel it crumble. “We’re a million miles away from anything. You’re not gonna bother anybody.”“Well…” Jared looks down at the recorder in his hands and smiles. “A little bit. Okay.”They walk out into the sprouting back hall, over the crumbling floors, where the weeds are winning in the sun. Richard gets his phone earbuds out of his pocket and puts them in as makeshift earplugs.Jared takes a deep breath and blows the recorder like a shofar, a raucous high-pitched whistle. Not playing any note in particular, just blasting it as loud as he possibly can, with all the air in his lungs. Not music, only noise. Serious noise. Richard can hear it even through his earbuds. It echoes through the pines, loud enough to frighten off a black bear.It’s a silly, childish sound—it brings back memories for Richard too. He used to annoy his parents with plastic recorders and cheap harmonicas and the repetitive sounds of Bach’s French Suite No. 3 by way of Tetris on his GameBoy. He’d had the freedom to bug people without having to worry about whether he might lose the roof over his head for it.When Jared stops, he looks satisfied for a brief moment, then guilty. “I feel so foolish,” he says. “I don’t know what I was expecting. We came so far out of our way just for that.”“You were trying to remember and you did. And we’d already gone out of our way, right?” Richard smiles at him. “I was trying to take us to Confidence, New Mexico. I’m the foolish one here, I’m Boo Boo the Fool.”“Never.” Jared reaches out for Richard, almost aimless: straightening one of the strings on his hoodie, fingers brushing over Richard’s shoulder.Jared starts to say something, and Richard is afraid that it’s thank you, which is bullshit—I’ve given him nothing, I’ve done nothing but take—so he leans in to wrap an arm awkwardly around Jared’s waist. “Let’s go home.

#fic prompts #silicon valley #sv fic #jarrich #my writing #allthefilmsiveseenforfree #I figure this is after Muriel’s funeral but before PiperNet gets kicking again

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everlarkficexchange · 5 years

Text

1,498 mph (Part 1)

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 47: Modern. Peeta is back home on his time off from the Air Force or army. He meets the newest employee in the bakery, a younger Katniss, who’s working hard to help her family while still going to school. They fall for each other and they didn’t even know when it happened. [submitted by @animekpopxx]

this chapter Rated: Mature for language

Warnings: This is the first part of a multiple chapter story. The rating will still be Mature for adult situations and smut once the rest of the pic is posted to AO3

Un-betaed. All mistakes are mine. Several Songs have been quoted in this fic, Rocket Man by Elton John; Girls, Girls, Girls by Motley Crue; Bungle In the Jungle by Jethro Tull… if you see anything else I forgot to create let me know.

———————-

“She packed my bags last night pre-flight Zero hour nine AM”

I’m quietly mouthing the lyrics of Rocket Man to myself while the whistle of engines zoom by at the speed of light filling the muggy Florida afternoon sky.

“And I’m gonna be high as a kite… I miss the earth so much… miss my wife…”

The chatter of men talking animatedly mixed with tools dropping on asphalt, stomping boots, and even the obnoxious scraping of step ladders being dragged around from place to place, is just another layer of the hubbub in the yard. Just another day at base, working away the hours, pretending we aren’t swimming in our own sweat and our skin isn’t sizzling under the harsh sun beating down on us.

“I think it’s gonna be a long, long time ‘Till touchdown brings me round again to find I’m not the man they think… nonono… I’m a rocket man! Rocket maaaaaaaan… dadada up here alone.

Rocket maa—”

“Mellark!” Someone calls at the top of his lungs. “Move your ass here, quickly.”

I jump out of a trainer aircraft I was familiarizing myself with, to find one of my superiors looking annoyed as shit for having to come out here to fetch me.

“Sir!” I salute and wait to be addressed.

“Lieutenant, your fairy godmother must’ve thought you were a good boy.” He practically spits, as he hands me an envelope. “You’re going home on break. Now don’t let the news interfere with training, keep your head in that cockpit, and you won’t lose any privileges, capisce?”

“Sir!” I’m saluting again, but this time I’m so giddy with excitement I can’t keep my face straight in front of this bad tempered badger.

“Go back to work!”

“Yes, Sir!” I scramble back to my fighter smiling from ear to ear like this is a redo of the day I got accepted into the F22 Raptor training class.

Holy shit! I’m going home! Can’t remember the last time I was able to go home for a long chunk of time, but my leave papers say I’m excused for four weeks!

“Rocket man is coming home, baby!”

——————

Air Force personnel have all the flight benefits they can aspire to, which includes free rides all over the globe during vacation, and since I’m trying to save every penny in my bank account for retirement, I hitch a ride home, to Panem, North Carolina, all the way from Tyndall Air Force Base, in sunny Florida… well, actually I got dropped off at Charlotte Douglas International Airport, and had to call my pal Finnick to pick me up, since I’m trying to get home and surprise my dad.

What I’m not expecting is for a reception complete with balloons, signs and a man wearing a tuxedo t-shirt with a bouquet of red roses.

My first instinct is to cover my face in embarrassment, but Finnick spots me and starts waving exaggeratedly while I walk slowly towards him, pretending he’s not there for me, even though his “Welcome Home First Lt. P. Mellark, we love you!” sing has a huge picture of me in uniform, pasted in the middle of the banner, surrounded by hearts.

The closer I get, the more details I see, like all the glitter on the sign, or how big the bouquet really is. Finnick is not alone either. His wife Annie is there holding the sign up over her head for every soul to see, and their two sons Finnick Jr. and Andy hold the balloons and point at me excitedly.

Finnick tells the boys something and the pipsqueaks charge at me like a pair of helions, giggling and chanting “Uncle Peet, Uncle Peet, Uncle Peet!” the whole time.

I admit the part with the boys is actually pretty espectacular, so I drop my bags, get down on one knee and open my arms wide just in time to get tackled by two little boys I love with all my heart, as if they were my own blood.

“Finny! Andy!” I wrap them both in a bear hug, their little arms circle my neck. I pick them up and spin them around for good measure.

Out of nowhere, I feel another body collide with my side, and before I can recognize the slim arms hugging me and the kiddos, a bigger body slams into the group hug, knocking the air out of my lungs.

Finnick uses his longer arm to choke hold me and plants a kiss to my temple, while the boys laugh hysterically at their father’s antics. The boys slide away from me, and as soon as my arms are free, I playfully shove Finnick away and hug Annie fully, tipping her back in a dip and whispering loudly for Finn to hear.

“Leave the fresh water sailor, baby. I’m way more interesting, I’m an Air Force pilot!”

Then I proceed to kiss Annie all over the face, except the mouth. “I so much rather kiss you, than that gorila you married,” I tell her dreamily.

Annie gives me a belly laugh right before Finnick pulls her away from me with a mock frown.

“Hey! No fair. I slaved all night making that welcome home banner!” My best friend protest, but everything is so ridiculous and silly, we all just end up laughing like lunatics.

Finnick and I hug quickly, clapping each other on the back.

“Good to see you man!”

“Is good to be home!” I tell him.

“Sure is! Now, let’s get this show on the road or we’ll end up with a pair of cranky boys if we miss bedtime.”

Finnick dumps the bouquet of roses in my arms, picks up my duffel and walks towards the parking lot, leaving me and Annie to deal with two chatty boys.

It’s truly great to be home.

I pick up Andy in my arms and start whistling Mötley Crüe’s Home Sweet Home.

———————

I open the door to my family’s bakery, and the bell above betrays my presence before I can call out to anyone.

I’m taken aback when a sultry voice I don’t recognize reaches me with a greeting. “Welcome to Mellark’s!”

A petite, dark haired girl steps in from the back wiping her hands in one of the familiar aprons embroidered with the Mellarks logo. She looks up from her hands to fix on me the most stunning gray eyes I’ve ever seen. The world stops turning for a whole second while we stare at each other.

Her eyes widen as she takes me in, and then fly to my latest official portrait, on display on the wall besides the registers.

The girl blushes violently and stammers at rapid shot, “Oh… um… w-welcome home… sir… um, Lieutenant? I didn’t know… I mean… I don’t think Mr. Mellark didn’t he was expecting you… oh my gosh, I’ll go get him!”

The girl slips back to the kitchen, leaving me standing there like a moron.

Finnick walks into the shop and looks at me quizzically. “What’s the matter?” He asks, just as my father runs through the doors leading from the back of the bakery.

My old man’s hands are covered in flour, and his apron has dried up orange frosting in the chest— which I guess is appropriate, since orange is my favorite color. The man bounds up to me like a runaway mastodon, and before I can even form a greeting, he’s squeezing the breath out of me.

“My son!” Dad cries into my shoulder. He releases me to pat my cheek with his flour covered hand. “What a surprise!”

“Peeta!” My brother Ryen yells from behind the counter, before jumping over it to hug me as well. “You didn’t call! I could’ve come pick you up, thickhead!”

I laugh. “It would’ve ruin the surprise. Plus, what else does Finn have going for him besides picking people up from the airport?”

Finnick glares at me, “I’ll have you know, even wealthy, trust fund babies, have jobs to report to. You ingrate son of a gun.”

“Yeah… whatever!”

We are all laughing merrily, when the bell above the door chimes again, this time for a real customer trying to get some pastries.

The raven haired girl diligently takes the patron’s order as quickly and quietly as possible, trying to give our reunion space, although between my bags, three bulky Mellark men plus Finnick, who’s no dainty daisy either, we take up most of the front of the shop.

After the customer is gone, Ryen turns to the girl. “Hey Squirrels, come meet my baby brother!”

The girl with awesome eyes gives my brother a positively murderous glare, just as dad rolls his eyes and shakes his head. The girl steps out from behind the counter, but her eyes— Gray with specks of blue— stay stubbornly on Ryen.

“Hi!” I pretty much run up to shake her hand— firm grip and a bit rough to the touch, but that just means she’s use to working with her hands. “I’m Peeta. And I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess ‘Squirrels’ isn’t your name, and you actually hate it almost as much as you dislike my brother?”

I’ve take the girl by surprise, and then it occurs to me I may be crowding her, judging by her stunned expression and the fact she takes a step back from me.

The girl gives her head a little shake, and smiles awkwardly. “My name’s Katniss Everdeen. Is an honor to meet you sir, and… um… thank you for your service.”

I’ve heard the same words a few dozen times today, having just walked through a civilian airport, full of appreciative people nodding at me or wanting to shake my hand since I’m wearing my uniform, yet, coming from this blushing girl, Katniss, makes me feel like I’m actually doing something that matters. Even if I’m just training right now. It’s taken a lot of hard work to be where I am.

“No, ma’am, is my honor to serve this great country. And you.” I’m about to bow, but my brother starts laughing, completely ruining the mood.

“Wow, ease up the cheese, Captain Braggy Pants. Squirrels will lose respect soon enough after she hears you singing while you bake.” Ryen guffaws.

I can’t believe I’ve only been home ten minutes and already I have the urge to strangle Rye. It’s gotta be some kind of record for him.

“Come on boys. I’m sorry, Katniss. My sons don’t usually behave this way.”

“No. They behave worse.” And just like that, my mother waltzes into the bakery front, sucking the joy right out of the room. “Peeta,” She says by way of greeting. “I’m assuming your on leave since you’re in your uniform. For a moment there I was afraid the Air Force finally kicked you out.”

Dad sighs, “Matilda, the kid just got home…”

My parents have a little staring competition, but as usual, dad turns away after a few minutes, letting my mother win the spat.

Dad sighs again, tiredly, picks up my bag and mutters under his breath, “Come on Peeta, bring your stuff to my office and I’ll get you a snack, you must be hungry.” Then he turns to my friend, “Finnick, are you staying for supper?”

“Uh… no, no. The boys are asleep in the car with Annie. I gotta take them all home. But another time!” Finn smiles widely. “Hey, Peet, call me when you’re settled in,”

“Sure thing, man. Thank you!” I tell him and give him a quick hug. “Say by to Annie and the kiddos for me.”

“You got it.”

My mother rolls her eyes, snorting. My father gives her an exasperated glare, but she’s too busy counting the cash in the till to care.

“Everdeen,” Mom calls not looking up at the girl, “You’re closing the shop tonight. I’m leaving $100 in change in the register, and putting the rest of the money in the safe. That should be enough to tie you over until closing.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Says Katniss stoically, her face devoid of emotion.

I’m impressed.

My mother is not the nicest person ever as a mom. As a boss, she’s even worse. Luckily, she only comes around a couple of hours before closing time to check on the books and put the cash away for bank deposits in the morning.

“Ma’am, about Wednesday—?”

“Yeah, yeah… take the whole day off if you need to. Peeta is here, so we’re back to fully staffed. The least he can do is pick up the slack for a few hours on Wednesday.”

Katniss blinks at my mother for a moment, but then I’m turning away so I don’t accidentally punch mommy dearest in the mouth.

I’m a fucking First Lieutenant in the USA Air Force. I fly fighters for a living! I’ve been deployed in flight missions twice in the last few years; I refuse to let my mother’s bitchyness ruin my vacation… it’s gonna be a long month, and it starts right now, with me showing how many fucks I give!

——-

I’m splashing soapy water all over the sink, holding the brush I’m using to scrub clean the trays like a microphone, like a dork. I keep forgetting where I am and with whom, all I know is that washing pots and pans at the bakery is way better than doing it at the kitchen of the training center.

“Friday night… need a fight My motorcycle and a switchblade knife Handful of grease in my hair feels right But what I — mmm— me tight are those

Girls, girls, girls Long legs and burgundy lips Girls, girls, girls—“

I turn around and find myself face to face with Ryen going purple, holding in his laughter. I feel myself jump out of my skin.

“Geez, Rye! The fuck is the matter with you?!” I yell at my brother, ripping the headphones out of my ears angrily.

Ryen keeps laughing, but when he steps out of my personal space, I wish the earth would open up and swallow me whole, because Katniss is standing by the swing door taking off her apron.

She blinks at me once with eyes as big as saucers, then looks away, blushing. I’m not sure why she does it so much, blush when she realizes I’m looking at her. Honestly, I don’t know what to think, although I’d be lying if I said I’m not flattered, especially when she regards me with as much respect as if I’m personally some renowned war hero or something.

“You taking off, Squirrels?” Asks Ryen pulling a tray of muffins out of the oven still shaking all over with a case of the giggles.

“I am. Mrs. Mellark already knows I have class tonight. She game tomorrow off as well” she says glancing at me apologetically. She adds quickly, “But I’m only taking half a day. I’ll be here in the morning for the rush. See you tomorrow, Mr. Ryen. Lieutenant.”

“You can call me Peeta, you know.” I tell her with my friendliest smile, hoping she doesn’t think I’m harboring any resentment towards her.

As if on cue, Katniss’ eyes grow to saucers and her cheeks flush a pretty pink. She nods in agreement and says another hasty goodbye before gathering her stuff and flying out the back door. I watch her go, wondering how long it’s going to take her to get used to me?

Ryen comes back from the front and squints in my direction. “Dude, if you’re gonna hang out here in the back, you need to keep an eye in the oven, man. The baguettes are gonna burn if you don’t hurry.”

I glare a Rye and put on oven mitts. The baguettes are fine, just a bit crispier than usual.

“So, what’s the story with this Katniss chick?” I ask checking on a sheet cake that’s close to being done.

Rye shrugs, rinsing a rag he brought from the front. “Uh, she replaced Cecilia during her postpartum leave. She was supposed to be temporary, but then Cecilia wanted to stay home with her children, and the girl pretends Mom’s the boss and goes to her scheduling issues, which Mom adores, so she was offered Cecilia’s full time slot.

“Katniss is finishing her GED. She’s got three nights at week off to attend school, and has a second, part time job when she’s not here, which is pretty much every hour she doesn’t have to sleep or study.”

“Two jobs and a GED at night? She looks like she should still be in High School.” I say.

“Meh. She’s nineteen. I think she dropped out and had like three part jobs until we offered full time hours, but I may be wrong. Wheaton was the one who hired her.”

“So, Dad liked her? I mean if Wheat hired her, and she stayed after he left.”

Wheaton, my eldest brother, used to manage the bakery before moving out of state. His wife wanted to live closer to her elderly parents to keep an eye on them, so about six months ago they opened up a bakery in a suburb near Atlanta, Georgia.

Ryen chuckles. “She hunts. Dad likes her squirrels.”

Now I’m confused. “What do you mean?”

“Ask him when he comes for closing. He’ll tell you.”

Later, Dad strolls into the kitchen, ready to help with clean-up and prepping for tomorrow.

“Boys,” he greets and goes straight to wash his hands after donning his apron.

I smile at that. Some things always remain constant. Familiar. Like home.

“Dad, Peeta’s asking if you like Squirrels?” Rye snickers.

Dad smiles. “Squirrels are delicious. I don’t care if you naysayers disagree with me.”

“Dad, I think Rye meant Katniss, not the critters…” I’m totally confused now. “Either if you care to elaborate?” I ask watching my father grab ingredients from a shelf and a mixing bowl from another.

Dad starts talking in that deep voice he used when teaching us a new recipe, “When I was little, my grandpa had this BB gun. He’d take us to his yard and had us shoot squirrels, then we would butcher them, fried them up, and eat them. Best comfort food ever.”

I make a puking face. I know my grandpa used to make roadkill stews and other mountain folk fare, but I don’t remember dad ever talking about them actually shooting up their own supper like that.

“Anywho, Katniss comes to me one day, maybe a year ago, and it takes all the courage she’s got, but she offers me a trade. She finds out I actually enjoy squirrel meat and asks if I would take a handful of her squirrels for a loaf, or at the very least a couple of buns.”

“What? You’re joking right?” Now I’m concern about this girl: GED at night, multiple jobs, now she hunts squirrels and trades bread for them?

What’s going on here? “Is Katniss, okay?”

“Oh, she’s better than okay,” Says dad smiling fondly. “She gets the squirrels right through the eye every single time! Born huntress, that one.”

“And you traded bread with her? Isn’t there some kind of regulation or something against that kind of shit?” I balk at my father’s cheerful face.

“I was hesitant at first, I mean, this is some urchin from the Seam, trying to barter with me like we’re in the 1800s or something. But then she shows me her squirrels, and I’m telling you, that kid has skills with a bow and arrow.”

“Get out here! Is that even real?”

“True story, baby bro…” Says Rye smiling wickedly.

I’m flabbergasted. At least Ryan’s nickname makes sense now. “Why would you do that? How do you know it was her who do the shooting, if she’s got this amazing superhuman aim? I mean, how does she even know to trade with you? That’s just so random.” I ask skeptically.

“She’s the one shooting. And the reason she knows I’m partial to squirrels, is because I grew up next door to her mother. In fact, and don’t tell your mother this, I used to be a little sweet on Katniss’ mother way back then. But her mama was a couple of years younger than me, and then she met Everdeen, and I realized it wasn’t meant to be.” Dad shrugs, and goes back to measuring his ingredients.

“Okay, but a kid hunting down squirrels and trading them away, doesn’t sound very sanitary, let alone legal.”

“So what? Are you gonna report her? Leave her alone, man.” Rye throws me an aggravated glare.

Dad shakes his head sadly. “Katniss, needed the trades desperately. Wheaton decided to offer her a part time job to help her out precisely for the same reasons you just listed. He gave her a condition, though, she had to go back to school and finish up, she’d just drop out. When I was able to offer her a full time position, I kept the school deal, she’s about to get her GED diploma, and we’re talking community college for her next step, we will see.”

The bell above the front door rings, and Rye goes tend to the newly arrived costumer.

“Where are her parents?” I ask dad still puzzled. “She sounds like an orphan.”

“Mr. Everdeen passed away a while back. Some work related accident. The mother is still around, but she’s not exactly well. Katniss has a little sister, a few years younger than her. She’s pretty much raised the girl herself.”

Well, now I feel like shit for distrusting everyone’s judgement, particularly Katniss.

“She seems nice.” I say awkwardly.

“She is. Hard working, smart, fast study. Honest and a trustworthy. She’s one of my best employees.” He gives me a pointed look and goes back to baking.

“Yeah… I bet. So… where’s Thom?” He’s been with the bakery since I was in high school. Him and my ex, Portia, were hired the same day. In fact, Portia stayed with the bakery after we broke up, which blowed.

“Thom is off this week. Jury duty. Your mother was so annoyed she almost wrote him an excuse from serving.” Dad rolls his eyes.

“And Um… Portia?” I feel a nervous swoop in my stomach at first, but it doesn’t go beyond that.

Portia was angry I decided to enroll in the Air Force instead of going to college with her, like she wanted. We were both interested in art and design, but she was passionate about it, while I just enjoyed it as a hobby… one I truly loved. I still doodle, and my drawings are still great if I say so myself, but nothing compares to flying a bird capable of breaking the sound barrier.

Portia couldn’t understand why I had to go away and become a pilot, I just couldn’t stay cooped here, while the sky is so big and free. She accused me of just wanting to run away from home, but the truth is, I love my family, I love North Carolina; being away from Mom is just sweet, gooey icing on the cake, but it’s been ages since I’ve develop a thick skin against her.

Dad takes his time kneading the dough before answering my question. “Portia got married. Nice fellow named Cinna. I made the cake myself. She left the bakery maybe two months before Cecilia announced her last pregnancy.” He stays quiet for maybe ten minutes, then he speaks again. “Delly has been coming in more often to pick up the slack. But the whole Cartwright clan is in Dollywood, celebrating Grandpa Cartwright’s 90th birthday. Ryen was supposed to be there, but stayed since Thom had jury duty.”

“Is that why Rye looks so broken up?” I ask sarcastically, because my brother seems happy as a clam.

Talk of the devil, Rye bursts into the kitchen chewing on a pastry. “Dodged a bullet there.” He says coming to lean by the big fridge, smiling at me.

“Yeah, it spending time in an amusement park with your wife and in-laws must be nightmarish.” I deadpan.

Ryen laughs heartily.

“Its truly is a blessing that you showed up now. It gives us tons of wiggle room to work, and maybe we start training Katniss in more technical stuff. I’ve been meaning to do that, but I never have the time.” Says Dad ignoring Rye’s interruption and the small rude gesture war we’re silently having between us. “She’s still not a very good froster, but she’s a heck of a saucier.”

I look at my dad for a moment, and then I put the sheet cake on a rack to cool.

Dad keeps talking placing a batch of cupcakes in the oven I just emptied. “I want you to know how much I appreciate your help here, Peeta. I know you could’ve gone anywhere else in the world, enjoying a well deserved break like a normal person, instead you came home and started working in the bakery right away. All I can say is, thank you. You’re a godsend and very good son.”

I smack Rye with a tea towel when he starts making kissy faces, addressing my father like nothing’s going on with my brother.

“Dad… you know I rather be here than anywhere else, even if I’m free labor.” We both chuckle at that. “Seriously Dad, I love being here. More than anything.”

“That’s good, Peet. Listen, I talked to your mother last night, and I told her it would be a good idea… and you tell me if I’m wrong, but, I was thinking you could use the apartment above the shop while you’re here.”

“Dad… that’s… I wouldn’t want to impose—“

“Is no imposition, son. The apartment has been vacant since Ryen and Delly moved to their new place; its fully furnished and you’ll have privacy…”

“Oooh! Bachelor pad!” Ryen wolf whistles, and Dad fixes him with a glare Rye ignores.

We all know Dad means I’ll be away from mother, and her nippy remarks and passive aggressive comments.

“Son, you’re twenty six years old, you’re used to being in your own. Mom and I are just a block away, and Ryen and Delly will be here every day.”

“I don’t know what to say, dad. That’s awfully generous.”

“Nonsense! Say you’ll take it and enjoy your time in town. You’re not a kid anymore and you don’t need to live in your parents guest room, when you can have a place for yourself.”

I smile. “Okay, Dad… if you insist.”

“No heavy partying without me!” Announces Rye, kicking off the fridge and grabbing his stuff to go home.

Dad and glare at him, but I’m still so grateful. My vacation just got more relaxing!

——————

I don’t see much of the bakery the next two days, because I take time to clean up upstairs and then decide to take a day off to hang out with Finn and his family at their cabin by the lake.

Finnick comes from an affluent family, that made their fortune in the seafood business. Finn is a ‘lawyer’ who only represents his family’s business. Annie on the other hand, is a Public Defender who mostly works pro-bono, “to balance the karma” according to Finn.

Ironically, Finnick’s favorite thing to do, is sit in a kayak in the middle of the lake doing nothing. Sure, he has fishing equipment, but as he puts it, “unless you skewer them with a trident, fishing is not an exciting sport.”

The thing is, anything we do together, whether is fake fishing in his kayak in the lake, going out for some beers with my brother and his friends, or simply sitting in the porch with the little minions, telling them about what it’s like to fly a fighter, everything is fun with my best buddy here at home.

“I heard Portia got married,” I say offhandedly late in the evening, when Annie takes the kiddos inside for baths.

“Yeah. Saw her the other day. She looks good. I think you’d like the husband.” Finnick says scanning my face, like he usually does when he’s trying to gauge my moods.

I only shrug. “Good for her. She deserves to be happy.” I wait a moment and then ask after another girl I used to date on and off, “How about Cash? She doing okay?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “Cash is on her second divorce, and on her fifth Mercedes. Prettiest thing around… if you’re into fake boobs and artificial asses, that is.”

We both smirk and shake our heads ruefully, Cashmere was never a subtle one, and her only love has always been bling. Can’t blame the girl when her mother named her kids so ridiculously vain: Cashmere and her twin brother, Gloss, and little Glimmer, who’s got to be around Katniss’ age. All three, golden haired children with the world at their feet, on the back of a dad who could barely afford his utility bills, but hey! His kids had the most expensive clothes, toys and stuff in town. No wonder Cashmere grew up with that askew rich-or-die mindset.

“And you, loverboy?” Asks Finnick, “any lady friends you’d like to share about? I hope you have some juicy stories for me, I can’t go back to Annie tonight with the same old gossip as always, you know.”

I laugh at that. Then grow wistful. I shake my head.

“There hasn’t been anyone in a very, very long time.” I sigh. “I had an arrangement with one Major in my squadron while on assignment. But she’s actually married, and wasn’t looking for a full blown affair. She just needed to scratch and itch and I was the helping hand. But since I’ve been in the training program, I barely have time to whine about my sore shoulders, let alone romance anyone.”

“Aww, buddy… I’m sorry.” Finnick says sadly, then glares at me and tells me in a serious tone, “You stay away from my wife! I’m onto you and your home wrecking ways, Top Gun!”

I have to laugh at that, “As if I could snatch her away from you!” because there’s nothing more ridiculous than the notion I could ever try anything funny with Annie.

She’ll slap me silly for starters, and then there’s the deal of how much I love my friend to ever hurt him. He’s always been there to support me, and when things got rough at home with mom, he was the only one who could help me see the good in life and in myself.

“You’re an idiot, you know.” I punch him in the shoulder and he punches back.

“No more than you, buddy.”

———-

“Let’s bungle in the juuungle!

Well, that’s all right by meeee…

I’m a tiger when I want looooove,

I’m a snake if we di-sagreeeeee…”

I look up self conscious that I’m being watched and mocked, although I’m barely audible, humming under my breath.

I’m only mildly surprised to see Katniss by the sink, towel drying a few utensils. She’s got the ghost of a smile on her lips and she’s nodding her head rhythmically while mouthing what I think are lyrics to the song I’m singing.

She most have felt eyes on her, because she looks at me with the corner of her eyes, and actually smiles when it’s confirmed I’m watching her. She stops what she’s doing and rotates her torso towards me.

“I take it your iPod is allergic to music from this millennium.” She says with a lopsided smirk, gesturing to my earphones with a wooden spoon.

“Has there been music produced this millennium, though?”

She rolls her eyes, but her smirk stays in place. “Jethro Tull I can understand. My father was quite the fan and they were geniuses. But I have to question your taste when you sing anything from a band so demeaning to women as Mötley Crüe.” She arches her eyebrows daring me to contradict her. “Those guys were so foul, the Me Too Movement would’ve had a field day burying then in lawsuits.”

“Ma’am, I have nothing but respect for women. Is not my fault good music is extinct nowadays.” I risk saying something else, and pray she doesn’t crucify me instead. “I think women back then needed the Me Too Movement, maybe groupies would’ve had someone looking out for them, telling them they didn’t have to let some asshole use them like they were trash just to show their love for the scene.”

Katniss’ lips twitch, her sparkly gray eyes study me for a moment. And then she switches topics.

“What’s the newest thing you have on your playlist, lieutenant?”

“Call me Peeta, please… every time you call me Lieutenant I feel underdressed out of my uniform, and I don’t know if I should salute you or order you to do push-ups.”

She her shoulders shake a little with her silent laughter. She licks her lower lip, and smiles at me. “I hope you don’t make me do push-ups. That will be the end on my employment here. There’s only so much a girl can put up with at work,” Her eyes twinkle in amusement.

“Well, don’t call me Lieutenant, and nobody has to exercise.”

“Okay… Peeta. I won’t ever call you by the title I’m sure you worked hard for, then.”

I go mute for a solid second. My name in her lips sounds… otherworldly. I’m oddly aware that my mouth is hanging open like a dying fish, but by the time I gather my wits around me to respond, Ryen bursts into the kitchen with another set of empty trays.

“Squirrels, you’re done with that? Good! I need a favor, watch the counter for me. Gotta tinkle.”

Katniss scowls. But says nothing else immediately marching to tend the front counter.

Me on the other hand, cry out, “Ewww! TMI, dude! Nobody wants to know that shit!”

Ryen gives me an outraged face, with his mouth forming a wide open O and his eyes equally rounded. “Language, Lieutenant! What will Captain America say? Shame on you, sir.”

“Shut up, fuckward.” I tell him laughing.

“When did you change branches, little brother? You’re supposed to be an airman not a potty mouthed sailor!”

“Shut the hell up and go pee already!” I ball up a small portion of the dough I’m kneading and throw it at him.

“My goodness! What’s going on here?” Gasps a clear female voice from the back door.

Rye and I turn to the voice at the same time, just as my beautiful, extremely pregnant, sister-in-law, dumps her purse and a big tote bag on an empty chair by the door.

“Delly!” I call excitedly. I leave my station, dusting the flour off my hands on my pants, to hug the woman, boxing Ryen out of the hug. “You look—“

“Good enough to eat!” Ryen speaks over me, elbowing me out of the way.

Delly blushes mortified, I gag, and my mother who’s just walking through the door oblivious to everything stares at us suspiciously.

“Why is everyone just standing around lollygagging?”

I decide we need to put a bell over the back door too. Too much traffic we missed coming in, in my opinion.

“I’m on a potty break, Peeta is a potty mouth, and Dells just got here from Dollywood!” Says Rye kissing Delly in the cheek and rushing to the restroom just outside the counter at the front of the store.

Mother doesn’t react to anything, but marches on to the office and leaves Delly and me finally alone.

“I will never understand what you see in Ryen. He’s loud, annoying and as mentally advance as a thirteen year old boy, but hell I’m so glad you can stand that idiot!”

Delly laughs, “Aww… he’s a cute idiot though. At least the baby will be a looker.” We hug each other and she kisses my cheek. “I’m so glad you’re home! Sorry I wasn’t here to welcome you properly.”

“Well, you’re here now, looking amazing, and I can’t wait to meet the little rugrat. Being an uncle will trump flying any day!”

The office door opens up bringing my mother back into the kitchen. She stands just outside the office to glare at us. “You’re still just loitering around? Get back to work people!”

Delly tries to tie her apron on the back, but she’s having trouble, Katniss comes in from the front just as my mother starts for the swing doors, and before I can offer to help Delly with the string, Katniss is making a neat little bow with the very tips of the of the ties.

“There!” She says.

Delly turns her head towards the raven haired girl and smiles gratefully. “Thanks!”

“No problem at all, Ms. Delly.” Katniss nods at my sister-in-law and goes to her peg with her messenger bag hanging from. She sticks her hand in the bag and ruts around blindly for a bit, pulls out a phone to send a text. Then she drops the phone back in the bag and returns to the front.

As Katniss is passing us by, Delly asks, “Is your shift over, Katniss?”

“Forty five more minutes. But Jo is picking me up today.”

“Car problems again?” Asks Delly washing her hands.

“As usual. The poor girl is in her last legs. Pretty soon I’m gonna have to break down and get a new car. Is too bad, Old Green has been a trooper for sure.”

“Well, if you need a ride at all next week let us know, you hear?” Says Delly drying her hands on a paper towel.

“Sure thing! Thank you, Ms. Delly.”

I try not to eavesdrop, but is just impossible when I’m not wearing my earphones. I simply watch Katniss walk back to the front, and file away the information I just heard in my mind, without any real reason to. I finish my bread, put it in the oven and tell Delly about it so she can pull it out when it’s done. I plan to make myself scarce by time Mom is done with the registers. The less I see of her, the better my vacation will be.

———-

Saturday morning comes, and I’m too restless to stay in bed past 0600.

I’m slowly coming down the internal staircase to the apartment, the office sits directly under it, so I’m trying extra hard to be quiet, in case Mom is here. But then I have to snort at myself, because Mom hasn’t been to the bakery before noon in years.

When I’m halfway down the stairs, a soft, pleasant sound starts filtering up from the kitchen. Some vaguely familiar ballad, and then my heart gives a little jolt, when the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard puts lyrics to the music.

“Down in the valley valley so low Hang your head over hear the wind blow Hear the wind blow dear hear the wind blow Hang your head over hear the wind blow.”

I keep trying to stay quiet as I step down, this time because I don’t want to disturb the singer, in case it’s an angel from heaven in the kitchen. I don’t want to spook it away before praying for its blessing.

I reach the landing, just as a new stanza begins, and when I come around the corner, see the long thick braid of Katniss’ hair, swing lazily down her back every time she sways to the song.

“Roses love sunshine violets love dew Angels in heaven know I love you Know I love you dear know I love you Angels in heaven know I love—-

“Oh my God!” She screams when she turns to place a tray of cinnamon rolls in the oven and sees me standing in the middle of the kitchen just staring at her like an awestruck dumbass.

Years of training as a pilot, plus the ones of being in my high school’s wrestling team, not to mention ducking out of my mom’s projectile trajectory when she was pissed off with us, has afforded me great reflexes. Thanks to those, I miraculously save the tray with rolls without missing any.

“I’m so sorry!” I start apologizing.

She’s clenching her chest with one hand, while holding herself upright with the other one grabbing the edge of the counter behind her. She shakes her head vehemently. “No, serves me right for doing it to you the other day.” She says massaging her chest. She cocks her head sideways and peeks at me with one eye half open while the other is shut tightly. “You startled me. I didn’t hear you come in. I thought I had locked the back door when I came in. Not many people can sneak up on me like that.”

“Oh no… I’m staying upstairs!”

“That explains it then,” she gives a nervous laugh. “I had no idea you were living upstairs.”

“Well…” I tell her lamely. “I’m still sorry for startling you.” I tell her over my shoulder, placing the tray in the oven for her. “You have, the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard by the way.” I try not to sounds so stalkerish.

She smiles but shakes her head. “Hardly. But thank you.”

“So, uh… you’re here…” I cringe at myself. What kind of stupid thing to say. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting to see you here this early. Not that I have any idea of what anyone’s schedule is. I know I’m supposed to help anytime I’m awake, but that’s just me—“

She lifts a slightly greasy hand up to stop my rant, and smiles. “It’s okay, sir. I swapped schedules with Thom, the other baker, so he could sleep in after a week of just sitting in the waiting room for his jury duty. Apparently the poor guy is exhausted from doing nothing but reading whatever controversial title that drunkard Abernathy recommended him to read in the waiting room to avoid actually sitting in court.” She shrugs, “I figure I rather have the afternoon off to spend it with my friend Jo or my sister, Primrose.”

“Cool.” I say feeling like a sixty year old coot trying to sound young. “Uh, that song you were just singing…?”

She chuckles turning to the sink to wash her hands off. I’m pleased to see a nice pink take over her olive skinned cheeks.

“I guess you’re not the only one who enjoys old music.” She turns down the volume on the iPod dock by the sink. “It’s a mountain air. My dad used to sing to me all kinds of old, folksy songs. But I don’t sing much unless I’m alone.”

“Why? You’re voice is incredible.” I tell her earnestly.

Is a good thing she’s preoccupied wiping down her working station, because I can’t stop gawking at her. I’m noticing all kinds of traits I find just adorable; like the way her nose wrinkles at my words, disturbing the faded smattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose. Or how perfectly shaped her eyebrows are, and how her blush makes her look so pure and innocent.

“I’m okay, I guess. My father was the real deal. But he’s been gone for a long time now, and all I inherited from him were a bunch of old Appalachian ballads.” She doesn’t sound sad or bitter, just factual.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind working with your voice as ambience noise.” I smile, hoping she takes it as a light hearted compliment.

“Are you sure you don’t want to serenade me with your 70’s and 80’s jams?”

It’s my turn to chuckle. “I’m fine, but by all means keep abusing my self esteem.”

Her eyes go as round as silver dollars, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to—“

“Katniss! It’s a joke! And remember, it’s Peeta.”

“I— I know. I’m sorry. It’s just, my father always taught me to be respectful to servicemen and women, and it’s just ingrained in my mind. Um, thank you for volunteering to protect our country. I have a little sister, you know, her safety is the most important thing in the world to me. I’ve thought several times of joining the army. They have so many benefits I could use, but I just can’t leave Prim alone so long, so I’m very appreciative of people who does leave home to train and become… uh, our defenders?” Her blush is so intense now, I feel bad for the poor thing, but my heart is beating wildly in my chest eating up all this undeserved praise.

“Ugh… I’m sorry. I’m not very good at talking. I always say the most awkward stuff.”

“Oh no! You’re great!” I try to assure her. “I’m the one who’s done nothing much to begin with. At least not something I’m terribly proud of, other than flying like a fiend when I need to. Your dad sounds like a stand up guy, I’m glad you had a man like him in your life. And as for joining the army, you can serve plenty around home.” I’m not entirely sure about the last part, but in my head it sounded like the right thing to say.

“Well, I think you’re great.” She says, but as soon as the words leave her mouth, she goes into a mortified rant, avoiding my eyes at all costs. “I mean… um, I think what you do is great. And your folks are so proud of you too!” She stammers and talks so fast I barely catch up everything she said.

“Oh yeah,” I say before I can stop the sarcasm, “Mom is real proud of the free labor I provide for her while on leave.”

I look up defensively, not wanting pity from her, but there isn’t any of that in her soft eyes at all. Instead, she smiles at me, and nods towards the swing doors; she waves me to follow her, and then she points at my picture by the register.

“Mrs. Mellark is not the nicest person around, but see how that picture hasn’t the tiniest speck of dust on it? She pulls a rag or a handkerchief if she forgets the rag, and cleans the frame every day after counting the money in the till.”

She lets the information sink in for a bit, letting the door leaf she’s holding open for me swing back into place. She walks back to her station and starts on a batch of muffins.

I stay there for a moment longer before stepping to the shelf with fresh laundered aprons, grabbing one for myself. The cynical part of me can’t accept that my mother would have a sweet gesture towards me without an ulterior motive; maybe she wipes down the frame so her bridge club friends believe she’s a proud, dedicated, mother… or maybe it’s to show up that church deacon lady she’s got this unspoken rivalry with, I don’t know what her angle is, but I keep it to myself, because I don’t want Katniss to think I’m ungrateful or whatever.

I just get to work on kneading bread. Methodically and repetitive, relaxing and familiar. I work my frustration with each fold and every time my hands squeeze the malleable concoction on the table. I feel like this is where I belong. I’m actually happy working the dough. It’s not the same rush adrenaline flowing when I get in my cockpit, but here, in this place with a sweet country melody in the background, I feel content.

Me and Katniss start working on the same station when my dad shows up fifteen minutes later. It’s actually nice sharing the counter with her. She’s tidy, efficient, and meticulous and takes suggestions gratefully. So when dad asks if I’d mind teaching her some frosting techniques, I make a stupid joke, but jump to it with both feet in.

“Katniss, if you want to decorate cakes like the masters, Peeta’s the guy to learn from.”

“I don’t know, Pops,” I say eying the girl in mock suspicion. “Can she be trusted with my trade secrets?”

Cue in the blushing and shying her gaze away. I can’t help thinking she’s cute… pretty, really. I feel like I should be doing something to impress her with my baking and frosting talents.

“Come, Padawan, I’ll show you the ways of the frost!”

Katniss looks up at me and tries to hide the curl of her lips. “Okay, but I’m not calling you master,” she says low enough I have to strain my neck to hear her.

“Peeta will do!” I say winking at her, and her cheeks go impossibly scarlet; the sight enthralls me and I wonder if I can keep doing and saying things to make her blush. “Alright!” I give a clap, “let’s do this!”

We spend the next couple of hours icing cookies, stacking cakes and practicing the basics of mixing colors. She’s very studious, doesn’t blush as much while we’re actually working on the task at hand, which I respect very much about her. Katniss asks questions confidently and tries to figure out things from her own perspective until she has a solid hold on a concept or skill I’m showing her. She’s serious, but scowls less than when Ryen is the one talking to her.

Delly and Ryen arrive a few minutes into our decorating techniques class, and Dad comes to our station to tells to take a break, but we’re almost done putting on the base layer of frosting on a birthday cake, and Katniss insists she wants to see it through.

At around 0930, Rye peeks his head through the swing doors and calls loudly. “Hey, Squirrels, you’ve got visitors.”

Katniss looks up scowling. “Who?”

“Your sister and her friend.”

“Uh… I’m a bit busy—“

“Take a break, Everdeen!” Says Dad walking by us with a steaming mug of coffee, heading to his office. “Or I’ll dock you thirty bucks!”

Katniss’ face sours right away, and I have to shake my head ruefully at myself for thinking she’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t help it. I think I’m infatuated with the girl, which is so strange to me. I know things about her, but I don’t know her, and then, there’s the issue of our age difference. We’re like six years apart… it hurts my head just thinking of it.

“Okay, Mr. Mellark. I’m taking my fifteen minutes.” She says morosely, stepping away from the counter, untying her apron and dusting her hands from flour.

She wipes herself clean, straightens her Mellark’s uniform, and nods at me. “Thank you for taking time to show me how to decorate a cake. I appreciate your help.” She tells me very politely, with a businesslike edge.

“Hey, I’m not done with you yet,” I tell her and see the color fill her face before smiling, “I’ll make the best pastry chef around out of you. Count on it!” I wink again, and she doesn’t disappoint with her shy smile.

“Thanks. It means a lot.” She nods, and goes out the front, to see her sister.

I’ve been in the back on my own for a bit, and Delly calls from the counter, “Hey, Peeta? Are there any more cheese buns in the cooling rack? We need some out here.”

“Cheese buns coming up!” I answer already grabbing the tray.

The bakery is packed. There’s a line snaking around the side of the counter, mostly people try to grab something and go, but we also have a few tables by the back wall, cafe style, completely full. My eyes go straight to the long, thick, dark braid in the very back corner. Her back is to me, and a pair of teenage girls sit facing the display case I’m stoking with pastries.

Katniss’ table is a picture perfect diversity poster. One of the girls is blonde and blue eyed, with ivory skin; her friend has a smooth ebony complexion, with a riot of dark curls framing her thin face, and soulful brown eyes that light up when she notices the cheese buns have arrived; and then there’s Katniss, with her olive skin and gray eyes with streaks of blue in the irises. A beautiful palette of people.

“Peeta, would you mind taking two cheese buns and an apple turnover to table five?” Asks Delly bagging a loaf for a customer.

I look up at Rye, who’s busy taking a cake order over the phone.

“No problemo!” I tell her reaching for a plate and forks.

As it turns out, table five is Katniss’ table. Objectively, I knew that already from years working in the bakery, but for some reason the two things didn’t correlate until I looked towards table five, and the two teens were craning their necks around a stiff looking Katniss to gawk at me.

Aw! High schoolers! Not much has changed.

The girls start giggling quietly and elbowing each other while their amused eyes flit from me to one another; they start swapping hushed comments behind their hands but their voices carry anyway.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, he’s coming over!”

“Gah! Are you seeing those baby blues?”

“No! I’m preoccupied with his biceps! Lord have mercy!”

Katniss pounces forward, leaning closer to the girls. “Cut it out! He can probably hear you two!”

“Morning, ladies!” I say loudly, not to startle Katniss since her back is to me. I hold up the plate of pastries to them. “Two cheese buns and an apple turnover. Enjoy!” I give them a polite nod and place the plate in the middle of the table, trying to remain professional for Katniss’ sakes.

“Thank you, Captain Mellark,” Says the blonde, who’s obviously Primrose, judging by how much her features favor her big sister, except for her hair color.

“First Lieutenant!” Katniss hisses at her sister, eyes alarmed and full of aggravation.

“It’s fine,” I assure them. “No worries. Call me Peeta if you’re in doubt.” I smile at them beatifically and then move on from the table.

I can hear the girls giggling and Katniss’ mortified groan.

“Oh my gosh, he’s hot!”

“Primrose! Mind yourself!” Katniss berates her sister in a harsh whisper.

“What! I’m fifteen, not blind.”

“Rue, what are you doing? Put the phone down! Oh my god, you’re gonna get me fired!”

“I’m texting Jo! I’d be in trouble if don’t.”

“Oh yes! Jo will like to hear all about yummy airman here!”

Katniss grunts, “Ugh! Eat your snacks and go home! And please, leave Jo out of this.”

Is the last thing I hear them say. I’m wondering who this Joe person is? It’s the third time the name creeps up in conversation, and I just don’t like the little flash of annoyance I feel when I hear it.

———

It’s a slow Monday, so I give myself the day off and run a couple of errands around town: fill up the tank of the car Delly let me borrow while I’m home, call up a couple of friends to say hi, hang out with Finn during his ‘lunch break’, then go grocery shopping, because I’ve been subsisting on bakery scraps and junk food for the first week of leave, and I should at least try to maintain a healthy diet, so I don’t get too fat. Getting back in shape at training isn’t my idea of fun.

It’s bizarre how many times I have to stop to say hi to some acquaintance while pushing my buggy around the store. Most of them are my folks’ friends, that want to see the ‘fighter boy’. Sometimes it can be too much, but I try to think of it as supportive. This people saw me growing up into what I am today. It’s understandable they want to let me know I’m making my little hometown proud, just for doing what I’m passionate about.

What I’m not expecting is to literally bump into Katniss Everdeen in the frozen vegetable aisle.

She’s walking backwards from the fridge with an armfull of assorted veggies, and I just happened to come around the corner too distracted, because I’m waving a little old lady from mom’s knitting club bye, to see where I’m going.

All of Katniss frozen bags fall to the floor.

“I’m so sorry!”

“Oh my god!”

We exclaim at the same time. After a second of staring at each other in disbelief, we dive down to pick up the bags.

“No, no. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have grab all these at once.”

“No, the fault is mine. I should’ve been looking where I was going.”

We bring the veggies to a shopping cart a foot away from Katniss, and filled to the brim with groceries, and dump the lot on the very top.

Katniss pulls a piece of paper and a pen from the back pocket of her jeans and scratches something out, stuffing the writing materials back in their spot. She finally looks up at me, blushing as usual.

“Um… so, Monday, Monday.” She says nervously, staring hopefully at me while balancing on the ball of her feet.

It takes me a minute of just gawking at her puzzled, before figuring out why she’s acting so peculiar, until it clicks.

Lyrics. She’s quoting a song.

I smirk and answer, “Can’t trust that day.”

She bites her lower lip, that does nothing to suppress the biggest smile I’ve seen on her so far. “Sometimes it just turns out that way.”

I’m so enthralled watching her lips that the next line comes all choppy at first. “Every other day. Every other day of the week is fine,”

“Yeah.” She actually sings the word, which makes me chuckle.

We continue lobbing lyrics back and forth for a bit.

“But whenever Monday comes,”

“But whenever Monday comes, you can find me cryin´ all of the time.”

“Monday, Monday.”

“So good to me.”

“Can’t guarantee.”

And now we’re just staring at each other in the middle of the deserted aisle, and suddenly we’re laughing loudly.

“That was…”

“Ridiculous!”

“Oh, but it was great!”

“No it wasn’t! It was so… cheesy! I’m just glad you knew the song, otherwise I would’ve looked like a total idiot.”

She actually puts her hand on my forearm— for balance I assume— and I think this is the first time we touch, other than when we met and shook hands. My skin is all tingly where her fingers lift from.

But our bubble of merriment gets obliterated with the literal pop of loud gum bubble popping right beside us.

“Wow… Sunshine is onto somethin’ here, Brainless.” Says a girl with spiky, short, brown hair, wide-set brown eyes with one eyebrow arch in scrutiny, and the most obnoxious gum chewing I’ve ever seen in a female. “Aren’t you gonna introduce me to Captain Muscles here?” She spares Katniss a devious glance, and then returns to scan me head to toe.

Katniss’ lips thin out, she’s fighting off a blush, but the blood filling her cheeks is winning. Reluctantly, she turns to me, “Lieutenant, my best friend, Jo. Jo, First Lieutenant, Peeta Mellark.” She gives her friend a murderous glare.

“You’re Joe?” I ask idiotically while narrowing my eyes at the girl… clearly female. “I thought you were Katniss boyfriend.” I extend my hand for her to shake.

She watches my hand and lets it sit in the air for a second or two before taking it and squeezing hard. She holds a penetrating eye contact while shaking my hand. “Who says I’m not, just because I’m a girl?”

My mouth goes dry. I scratch the back of my neck embarrassedly, I open my mouth to say something, because really, Katniss could be in a same sex relationship for all I know. Just because she gets all pink in the face when I’m around doesn’t mean she’s attracted to me… or any man for that matter.

Katniss groans, but just as she’s trying to say something her friend speaks.

“Johanna Mason,” Says the girl eyeing me with a devilish gleam in her brown eyes, “as deliciously awkward you guys look right now, I have to admit Brainless is not my type. Too stoic and hero like for me. But you on the other hand…” she gives me a mock roar, and Katniss turns beet red with the deepest scowl I’ve ever seen.

“Jo!” Katniss hisses.

Johanna rolls her eyes, “I’m just joking, for fucks sakes! Don’t get your panties in a knot, KitKat.” She blows another irritating bubble gum and smirks at me, “see you around Fly Boy!” She winks and takes the handle of the shopping cart. “Come on girlfriend, let’s pay for your shit. I’m tired of meander around like a headless chicken.”

After waving goodbye at me woodenly, Katniss follows her friend to the registers, and I stay there wondering how the hell such a goofy, cute encounter could have just fizzled down so fast with one single pop of a gum bubble?

———-

Thom is back from jury duty and the workload evens out easier with another experienced baker in the kitchen.

Katniss has school in the evening, so her shift starts around 0800, until 17:30. Since I get to chose my own hours, as long as I show up a minimum five times a week, I decide to show up after lunch to work on an order of cupcakes easy enough for Katniss to practice the basic frosting I showed her on Saturday.

After we’re done with those, Thom slips me a piece of paper with an order for a four tier wedding cake in fondant and sugar flowers. Thom looks absolutely delighted passing on the task to me, because after all, decorating the cakes was my specialty growing up.

“When is this due?” I ask scratching my head with the back of my wrist, trying not to get vanilla filling on my hair.

“Friday evening.” Says Thom gleefully turning to some easier pastry to deal with. “Figured you’d like the chance to get back on the saddle!”

“Gee… thanks.”

Thom smiles, “What can I say? It’s good to have you back!”

“Let me guess, the bride is a perfectionist. A real bridezilla.”

“Nah. Bride’s sweet as pie, the mom on the other hand… total bitch.”

I groan. It’s always my luck, having to deal with crazy cougars, trying to live up their dreams through their daughters weddings.

“Shit. This thing says the order was placed yesterday. Why am I getting it today? This only gives me three full days to finish.”

“Well, your lazy ass didn’t come in yesterday, and the boss said to give you the work order, he thinks you’ll have a field day with it, ha! Better start baking those cakes, dude.”

“Fuck it!” I hang my head low, and shuffle to the pantry to get the ingredients. It’s four tiers in a different flavor each, and one of them is supposed to be filled with fresh strawberries.

“Mmm, I can help you… if you want. I’ve never worked with fondant, but I can mix a cake no problem, and you need four of those.”

I look up to find Katniss’ hopeful grey eyes, watching my tower of ingredients shyly.

“I guess I can teach you how to work with fondant while we’re at it. I’ve heard you take evening classes. We can work on the technical part of the decoration during the morning…”

“I can come back after classes too.” She offers eagerly. “I get out at 8:15, which puts me here around 8:40 or so. Unless that’s too late?”

“No, no, that’s perfect. Okay, partner, let’s kick some cake ass!”

Working the cake with Katniss is actually a lot of fun. We listen to music on the iPod dock, and she makes fun of me for not liking the Beatles, but having all of Johnny Cash’ collection. It’s a moot point, since she knows all the lyrics to every Johnny Cash song that pops up in my device. It’s nice.

She goes to school, and I take a nice three hour break. No sense working in the cake if I have to show Katniss how to work with it.

She shows up again at 21:45, and I let her into the back door, promptly locking us in after she steps into the kitchen. The front has been closed for hours already, but I’m not very comfortable with the back unlocked at this time.

“I just don’t get it,” she says pulling a face, sifting in the flour on the table top to knead the fondant.

“What’s that?” I ask without lifting my yes from my own batter.

“Oh, nothing, is just that you’re this greater than life legend here in town— you should hear Abernathy’s tall tales about you— but you’ve been cooped up in the apartment, pretty much all week, instead of going out and stuff.”

“I’m a house wart. I rather stay in than going out. You?” I look at her under my eyelashes.

She makes a face. “I’m antisocial according to Prim.”

“You seem to do pretty well around me, so you’re not completely antisocial.”

She smiles gratefully. “And I’m not sure how I manage that.” She says softly, looking down at the block of fondant we’re supposed to be working with.

“Why is that?” I ask haltingly, a small thrilling swoop in my stomach tells me to tread carefully with her. I don’t want to do anything stupid.

Katniss eyes take an earnest shine, and I finally understand that “Windows to the soul” thing they say about eyes. I can see so many emotions in those big, gray eyes that stare at me like I’m something really special.

She turns to the fondant, “So, after kneading this thing, we use the rolling pin… how thin do we need it?”

Oh she’s good! Master deflector I see. I nod almost imperceptibly staring her in the eye.

“Well, for this cake they only want white, but other times we would have to add a couple of food coloring drops, if the order calls for it. Then we knead with a bit of flour so it doesn’t stick to the table or our fingers, and you’re welcome to wear gloves if you want to, so you don’t stain your hands.”

I show her for a minute, then let her take over, and keep giving her tips here and there to work more efficiently.

We put filling in all the separate flavored cakes, and prep them with frosting to place the first layer of fondant down. I tell her we will work on the individual tiers before stacking them together and go on about the correct way to lay fondant down, but her first attempt is a disaster. The fondant is too pasty and thin, so it sticks together and brakes apart like melted marshmallows.

“I’m so sorry,” she winces. “I promise I’ll get the next one right.”

“It’s okay, nobody gets everything perfect the first time they try something new.” I tell her softly, wiping away the table so we can start again. “It’s just sugar, you’ll get it. Here, let me help you.” I offer, standing behind her and putting my hands over hers to guide her while rolling the piece of solid icing.

As soon as I feel her small hands under mine, and feel her lithe body shiver against mine, I realize what a total mistake this is. I should move away, really, but I don’t want her to think she’s done anything wrong, so I bite down on my stupid nervousness and keep teaching her how to make a cake.

“Like this,” I say softer than I intended.

Katniss follows the instructions, and then I really should move away, but she says she needs help placing the newly rolled out fondant, and I’m her teacher, I can’t just leave her there on her own; but fuck if my body is not reacting to her like I basket of hormones.

“We… pick up the rolling pin with the layer of fondant, and carefully… unroll it on top of the cake. Don’t let the rolling pin fall on the cake. That’ll be bad.”

She chuckles that silent laugh of hers where only a puff of sound escapes her, and her shoulders shake until she’s done laughing.

I almost groan. The slight of her ass momentarily grazed against the front of my pants, and my dick immediately reacted to it, as it had been called to action… hell… when was the last time I had sex with anyone other than my hand?

“Okay! Done! I’ll take it from here!” I speak breathlessly and too fast.

“But it’s my turn to lay it down.” Katniss protests.

“You don’t have to. I can finish myself…” fuck, “The fondant, that is.” Fuckety fuck! Shut up mouth… now!

I have no idea why am I still bracing my arms at each side of her on the table, I really should step away now, but she tilts her head almost around to look at me, and those twin moons are so pretty and full of wonder, I can’t move.

“How’s this?” She asks in this thin voice that tugs at me.

I look down, and realized she’s been working on the icing all along, and other than a crinkle here, and another there, she’s pretty much done with the last cake.

“That’s great. Thank you!”

She smiles widely at me. “Now we just need to set it aside.” She tells me turning in my arms, with the cake in her hands. It’s the only thing that forces me to move away.

Once she places the last tier on a shelf to rest. She looks up at me. “Thank you, mister Peeta. Working with you is such an amazing opportunity, I have no words to tell you how grateful I am for all your family has done for me.”

“Peeta. Please.” I say quietly, coming closer to her like a magnet to another. “It’s an honor helping you. You’re a very dedicated apprentice. Tomorrow we will make flowers.”

“Okay.” She exhales breathily, and her eyes keep dipping to my mouth. “I can’t wait…”

I’m standing five inches from her… or at least I think that’s how far my chest is from hers.

“Are you hungry?” I ask her suddenly.

“I— Yes. I could eat.” Her eyes focus on my face intently. “I’ve never seen the apartment upstairs. Is it comfortable?” She asks.

I can feel the blood pooling in my groin. “It’s great. I grew up there. I can give you a tour, if you agree to have a sandwich with me.”

She bites her lip and nods. “Okay.”

“Let’s go then.”

#Springtime Edition 2019 #submission #alliswell21 #animekpopxx #prompt 47

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