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katnissdoesnotfollowback · 8 months

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For the WIP game, do you have plans to add add any more to Outside the Lines from the Outside Chance universe? You single-handedly got me shipping Prim & Rye(n) hard b/c of this fic 😂 And from in progress, You + Me and/or The Cold Side of the Bed?

Alright, we'll cover all three. <3 Below the cut because it's a lot of text.

Friend. I am totally going to throw my beta under the bus on this one. PRIM AND RYEN WERE NEVER PLANNED. I was not gonna go there. Buttercupbadass, however, had other ideas. "Wouldn't it be funny if Prim's 'spa day' was her sneaking away to be with Ryen???" she asked. "Oh it's so cute she had a crush on him!" she says. "Screw it. I want them [Prim & Ryen] to get married," she puts in her edits/comments on ch 17 of Outside Chance, and not on a Prim and Ryen interaction even. That's what bba commented when Prim is saying goodbye to Eirik when she and Katniss are leaving Skaid after their summer visit!

Thus began an entire barrage of her reasoning, possible scenes and dialog, and then... THEN bba mentioned how funny it would be if Katniss accidentally saw a naked Ryen in the background of a Skype call one day and I lost it. So much of that story has roots in my personal life and well... so does that, unfortunately. But after that, the whole concept became too delicious for me to resist. And also, bba was right. They belong together.

I absolutely plan on adding more to Outside the Lines. At the moment, I feel the need to finish writing the next chapter of Outside Chance because that's the root story. I build Outside the Lines and Outside Expectations around what's in Outside Chance, and in a lot of ways, Otl and OC are kind of written simultaneously. So here's a snippet from the next chapter of Outside the Lines and lord help me if bba sees this, I won't hear the end of her prodding to get it done lol ;)

“So you’re the flavor of the week. Is there anything you can tell me about Ryen’s mental state going into this competition?”

“If I were really just the flavor of the week, why would you think I’d have any insight into his mental state?” I retort. There’s not much I remember about Agnes Mellark, other than a vague impression of cold aloofness. But how much of my idea of her has been stained by what Katniss and Ryen have told me about her? I don’t know.

I can’t even tell if she recognizes me right now. Maybe it’s too soon to play this hand, but I can’t resist. Maybe because it’s proof that I know Ryen far better than any of his previous flings. Maybe even better than the woman confronting me right now.

“Aren’t you his mother? You should have a better idea of his mental state than me,” I say with a smile. Really, I’d like to stab her in the jugular, but with what? Couldn’t smuggle in a knife, and am unfortunately not wearing my favorite four inch heels, which would be a perfect weapon.

Agnes purses her lips and her eyes wrinkle at the corners. Oh shit, I think and prepare to run, but she shakes her head and chuckles slightly.

“I wish I could say that my son were smart, but he usually thinks more with his dick than his brain,” she says and eyes me. “You’re every bit as beautiful as the others, but smarter, aren’t you?”

“I’d like to think I am,” I say.

“Good. Maybe you actually have a shot at getting him to commit, but don’t hold your breath for it. He won't admit it, but he needs someone with a brain to keep him in line, to challenge him and keep him from squandering his talent.”

“Multiple Olympic medals and world cup titles count as squandering his talents?” I ask. She takes a step back from me and I hold in my triumph that I got a response.

“Maybe not, but his personal life is a mess. I just want to make sure you deserve him and treat him the way you should. Don’t be like that trash his younger brother keeps falling for.”

Oh no. She did not. Fuck this bitch. I don’t need a knife to destroy her.

"Oh you mean my sister?" I say with a wide smile and hold out my hand to her. "I guess you don't remember me. Primrose Everdeen."

You + Me is another one of my outstanding Everlark Fic Exchange prompts. This one is from 2019 (I think? *cringes in shame*), and was for either K or P as a romance novelist who secretly uses the other for inspiration in their writing. What happens when they find out?

This one has been super fun to write, if a little slow going, mainly because there are multiple moving pieces to it. Now for a snippet!

Katniss… we live together when we travel. I think I’m aware of all your annoying habits by now. ;)

And here I thought I was something of an enigma.

Nope. Open book to me.

Shit.

Does he mean…?

My brain is scrambling, but I take a deep breath and manage to reign it in. He knows I’m a published writer. His words could merely be a reference to that. This can’t be good. Has he already figured it out?

Before I start plotting a heist to break into his house for a book burning party, I manage a decent, mostly innocuous text.

Hey what’s the title of the book you’re reading? Maybe I know it and can spoil the ending for you. ;)

Not on your life, Everdeen.

Just reached a plot twist in between your texting barrage.

A delicious plot twist. ;)

Oh?

The hero is not who I was expecting. Dun duh dun!

The wheels squeal and I rush off the train as fear rises up in my throat. Oh god, he’s figured it out. What gave me away? The food porn passages, probably. He’s got to be reading The Thrill of the Hunt. That’s the only one I can think of where I pulled a bait and switch with the hero.

The street is crowded and I have to tuck my phone in my pocket to navigate the crowds. When I get there, I’m still unable to answer him because even though I’m early to meet my editor, she’s ready for me.

“Katniss, darling! Welcome, welcome! Have a seat please. The cappuccino is fresh,” Effie trills as I’m ushered into her office and offered coffee.

Oh this cannot be good. Whenever Effie has liked my pages, she forgets her manners. Excitement precludes etiquette. But when a writer needs a kick to the creative pants… that’s when she’s the picture of perfect manners.

“That bad?” I ask when her assistant is finally gone, the door shut and a hot cappuccino gripped in my hands.

“They were...how to say this…?”

“Shit,” I supply and she scowls at my language.

And finally, since you asked about it, The Cold Side of the Bed was something I started for one of the "This Would Have Happened Anyway" challenges. I don't remember which one, only that the prompt was for Everlark in District 13. I never managed to finish it, in fact I've barely started it beyond a vague outline and the opening scenes, mainly because I was still finishing my degree at the time and pretty much would crash after finals then not be able to muster up the energy to write fanfic. But also because it kind of turned into an epic story. Short synopsis: Non-reaped Everlark winds up married to different people after their last reaping. The rebellion still happens and 12 is still bombed. Some of the story would be about them getting to 13, but the juicy stuff happens while they are in 13.

When I wake, the other side of the bed is cold. I reach out through the rough material, seeking a shred of the warmth that would exist if Primrose didn’t still climb into our mother’s bed after a nightmare. Not that I am surprised she had a nightmare last night. This is the day of the reaping, after all. I slowly lift my head to peer across the room at them. The three of them curled together for comfort. My mother, my sister who grows more achingly beautiful every day, and the ugliest yellow cat in the world. He sees me watching and hisses at me.

“Yeah, I know you’d be happy if they called my name today. Lucky for you, they just might.”

After all, my name is in the bowl 28 times today. I dress and join Gale in the woods, relaxing as I make my way through the thick summer foliage to our meeting place.

“How’re you planning on celebrating your freedom?” he asks as we make our way back towards the fence when we’re done hunting. It’s been a glorious day and we’ve got quite the haul. I’ll need the woods to keep providing like this in a few weeks. When the Games end this year, I start working in the mines.

I shudder slightly and give Gale a look. He just shakes his head and laughs. I don’t need to say it. It’s not exactly freedom, aging out of the reaping and into working down in those mines.

“You thought about what I said?”

“Gale,” I say and stop walking right before we reach the fence. He stops too and sighs, looks up at the sky. “I told you I can’t think about that right now. Not when Prim will still be—.”

“And I’ve got Rory still eligible and Posy about to start in a few years, but I’m still thinking about it. How’d you explain that? How about Nathan Dawson and Lilah Bronski? They’ve already decided they’re getting married some time after the reaping if they both make it through. Lots of people think about it, Catnip, and lots of people do it.”

“Well lots of people are stupid then,” I snap and Gale sighs.

“Alright look, just forget I said anything. Let’s go make our trades before we make you late.”

#wip file game #outside the lines #outside chance universe #you + me #the cold side of the bed #distractionsfromthefood #look at that ask

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oolhan · 8 months

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our little games

Wordcount: 1.7k

| Post-mockingjay. Peeta and Katniss making up their own guessing game with pastries that he brings home every night from the bakery |

No warnings! It’s literally a fluff fest following my realization about what Peeta and Katniss smells here and @mollywog’s replies conceiving a sudden birth of this prompt. Lol. This is my first time writing for everlark and I kid you not I oiled up my rusty writing skills from lit classes. Thanks also for @distractionsfromthefood for your support! Unbeta-ed, but enjoy!

It started when I came home early from the bakery, surprised to find Katniss curled on the couch covered with her oversized hunting jacket. She looked up from the arm rest and her cheeks were red and dry with tears. Nothing surprising, honestly, it’s just one of those days. I automatically walked up and knelt on her side, forgetting to take my shoes off in the foyer.

“Who is it this time?” I hushed, giving attention to her black strands clinging dry on her cheeks, softly flinging them aside while her head rested on the arm rest.

“Dad…”

“In the woods?” I glanced at her father’s hunting jacket she used as a blanket and carefully move it to wipe her tears, tucking its collar under her chin.

“No, couldn’t get past the door…”

“Okay, do you want to stand up now?”

“No…” A silence.

“Stay with me though?” Ah. There it is. Yeah, alright. Always.

She scooted on the couch to give me space and I obliged, lying down cramped with my shoes still on, faces inches from one another.

“What do you want for dinner?” I whispered, caressing her brow with my thumb. I’ll never get tired brushing her face this way.

She scoffed a smile. “Pancakes?”

“Pancakes?” my eyebrows shot up. Pancakes for dinner?

“Yeah, you smell like maple,” she chuckled, her eye wrinkles right under my thumb.

“Probably because of the maple butterscotch brownies I made for Sae’s granddaughter today,” I murmured, tracing lines on her nose. “She said she didn’t know what maple tastes like,”

“That’s so Peeta of you to do,” she grumbled, mustering all seriousness with her brows. That made me snort.

“Yeah, well.”

“I want those butterscotch stuff now.”

My smile got wider.

----

The next day, I set aside some of the cupcakes I frosted for the seamstress’s kid’s birthday to bring home for Katniss. I never got to take my shoes off when she wrapped her arms around my neck, her face on my chest, the boxed sweets held on my free arm as I put the other over her.

“Hello, again,” I say, giving her a kiss after leaning back. “I’ve got you something,”

I hid the blue box behind me, smirking at her head tilting in curiosity. “You have to guess it first!” I played.

“Is it food?”

“Mhm.”

“Cheese buns?”

“No, I just made those for you two days ago.” I chimed. Her and her obsession with cheese buns.

“Those butterscotch brownies?”

“Unfortunately sold out,”

“Wait,” She reached for the front of my jacket, sniffing it. Then she’s whiffing off my undershirt, my hands, my chest, my neck. I tried not to shiver when her nose pressed under my earlobe.

“Buttercream…”

I tried not to grin.

“Cupcakes?” She eagerly tugged on my jacket.

“Oh, Katniss,” I chuckled, presenting the box wrapped with a simple red bow. She unties it and quickly picks the one with green frosting.

“This would be dessert after venison!”

----

After that, I practically came home everyday bearing random pastries for her to guess. I never get my shoes off in the foyer when she hauls herself on me and give my daily hugs.

“Ooh, something creamy today,” she quipped, leaning back from my undershirt. “Is it a cake?”

“Not even close.”

“Tarts?”

I shake my head.

“Something with custard?”

“Probably.”

“Custard pie?”

“Warmer,”

“Egg pie?”

“Warmerrr,”

“Ice cream? Vanilla cake with cream frosting?” She tugs on my jacket repeatedly, almost shaking me to give up my answer.

“Sweetheart, you’re cold again.” I tried not to laugh at her growing impatience when strands from her braid fell on her face, the box still unreachable behind me, and my free arm curling those anrgy locks between my fingers. Her eyebrows are beginning to crease the way they do when she gets close enough to Haymitch’s geese.

“What is it, Mellark?” Oh, I love nothing more than seeing her scowl.

“Guess, Everdeen. Or I’ll eat this alone after din—” She cut off with a grasp on my head and a kiss on tiptoes.

“Tell me now, Mellark!”

“That’s coercion!” I teased. She leaned up for more pecks, but I backed away chuckling.

“Peeta!”

“Alright, let’s make a deal. Guess this right with three tries, or give me a kiss every time you bite to it.” I challenged, plastering an impish grin.

“How am I supposed to guess it? All pastries have cream!” Her eyebrows are close to meeting now.

“Oh yes, minced meat pie is creamy.”

“Is it minced meat pie?”

“No, it’s not savory.” I clued in, getting impatient myself. I didn’t even take my shoes and jacket off and we’ve been playing this guessing game for minutes now.

Just pick the latter and let me kiss you.

She crossed her arms playfully, “Screw you, Mellark. I’ll take the second option just because dinner is getting cold. Now give it.”

“Groundbreaking choice.” I thumbed her annoyed forehead and unraveled her angry arms, revealing the box from behind and untying the red ribbon.

Her creases came back when she saw the hidden pastry.

“How is bread pudding close to a pie?!” She exclaimed, all angry tone and yet she’s pinching off a piece from the pudding. I made some batches up from the stale ones.

She bites through the pinched bread. I took the first peck.

----

It became a routine. Coming home at dusk. Stomping my shoes on the foyer. Her arms clinging briefly, nose sniffing, her guessing every item right, a peck on the lips, a dinner and a dessert.

“You smell dill and garlic today,”

“Did it cling that strong?”

“Doesn’t matter. I like it, it’s soft, like a little savory treat.” She murmured in my ear, rendering me still when she softly nipped my earlobe.

She never does that.

Her arm swooped under my elbow, taking the blue box from my hands and revealing a bed of focaccia sprinkled with dills. “Hmmm,” she moaned through her bites and I fought the urge to kiss that crumb off on the side of her mouth.

Is she trying to kill me?

I coughed, brushing off her innuendos and finally taking my shoes off.

----

Assuming her favorite days were cinnamon and buttercream, she does more than just short kisses whenever those days come. The soft bites on my neck and earlobes happens only when I come home smelling like it. That’s the time I sink down my fingers in her hair a little deeper or my hands grip her hips a little tighter.

Today, I grasp her braid a little stronger, my arm roping around her backside, giving her neck some nips of my own. I breathed her in, taking a whiff of her own scent—woods, sweat, something feminine, and entirely Katniss—wishing I could store away some of her in this manner, freezing this moment. I let her lift my head and kiss me senseless, mouths meeting, tongues twirling.

“I, uh, frosted someone’s wedding cake today,” Taking a peck on her nose, I tried to catch my breath when we break away.

“requested something with cinnamon and buttercream frosting,” I sighed, brushing off her brow, noticing her now diluted eyes. I failed to bring anything home because of those three tiers.

“Good for them,” she breathed.

“Couldn’t bring home anything,”

“Good for me,” She gulped and collided our mouths again. She took my shoes off along with my jacket. Dinner got cold that night.

---

Fall had a slow welcome. It was a seasonably cold day when she doesn’t push herself to me after I opened the front door. Disappointed, I took off my shoes and head to the living room, finding her standing up from near the fireplace when she noticed me. Our memory book laying on the carpet along with some papers.

“Hey you,” her cold form wraps around mine and I tried not to ask her what’s wrong too quickly.

“Guess?” I quipped, pecking her red cheeks. Did she just come back from outside?

“Butter cookies?” even with her wavering tone, she was right. Although I don’t point out the way she hid a small choke when she hugged me.

“You okay?” I let out warm breath on my palms, placing them on either side of her face and this time I felt her visibly holding her breath, her nose scrunching. “What’s wrong? Who is it this time?”

“No, no episodes. I just… I was nauseous the whole afternoon and tried to walk it out. I think I just miss them,”

“Hm. Come here, let’s warm up,” I led her to the fireplace and sat down together, the memory book lay open in front of us.

“Actually Peeta, I think I’ll prepare dinner.” She suddenly stood up, giving me a kiss on the forehead before heading to the kitchen. That was uncharacteristic of her.

But I didn’t question it. Not yet.

I started to wonder when she doesn’t meet me in the foyer anymore. Our guessing game slowly turned from minute hugs to silent smiles. It was when I brought home some seasonal apple pie that she couldn’t hold back a gag when she tried to hug me.

Doesn't she like apples? Can’t I recall if she hated apples?

“God I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to gag at all. I just, I don’t know, it just smells sour.”

“I baked them fresh this morning so they’re likely not foul. But yeah, okay, I’ll just drop these off to Haymitch—”

“No, Peeta, your hands. They smell so apple-y.” Her expression was a twist of scowling and being disgusted. I sliced dozens of apples today so the scent clung too much even when I washed off with some soap.

“Sweetheart, we chopped all day at the bakery, the smell will last for some hours I think,”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why, I always liked apples,”

“It’s okay, let me give these to Haymitch and then I’ll scrub off in the shower.”

----

The next day I brought home some of the extra orange cake slices, dreading she’ll also hate these.

They were never put down on the table.

She devoured three slices in minutes.

Also gobbled my orange scented fingers.

----

Still mildly unhappy we didn’t return to our guessing games after a week, I didn’t bring anything with me today. I was taking my shoes off when I saw her beaming by the couch, her face tinted red with anticipation and she looks like she’s about to cry.

“What? What is it?” I rushed to her in my loose shoes and jacket still on.

“Peeta, I think I know why.”

Eyebrows crinkled. My hands on her elbows.

"You know I always love what you make but...

Her fingers fidgeting. Her blushing cheeks and silver stare the only things registering in my mind.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

She guessed right.

#everlark #post mockingjay #everlark drabble #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #everlark fic

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eroticeverlark · 5 months

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Inspired by Three of Hearts by Miss Honeywell @badnovels

@waywardangel-wilds @triassictriserratops @distractionsfromthefood @peetapatgoesmyheart

#mellodeen #everlark #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #thg #thg fanart #fig draws #katniss and peeta #peeta mellark #mellodair #three of hearts

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promptseverlark · 1 year

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Final List - Participants!

I will give you access to the collection so you can post until deadline 25th June.

@periwinckles

@dandelionlovesyou

@alwayseverlark

@albinokittens300

@shesasurvivor

@rosegardeninwinter

@mega-aulover

@everlarking-always

@lemonluvgirl

@katnissmellarkkk

@endlessnightlock

@professionalfangrrl

@youcantseeus-fan

@cozycoffeewriter

@lastleaf

@loungemermaid

@geekymoviemom

@thelettersfromnoone

@mtk4fun

@goldenslumberowo

@norbertsmom

@katnissdoesnotfollowback

@regrettable-username

@adsosfraser

@sommmee

@browneyeddevil

@mollywog

@ridasart

@jhsgf82

@absnow

@wistfulweaverwoman

@distractionsfromthefood

@sillymarigolds

#this would have happened anyway challenge summer 2023 #TWHHA summer 13 #Everlark in D13 #everlark fanfiction #everlark #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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pinwheelwhirl · 2 months

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Plant tag game! 🪴🌻

A tag game where you share a picture of the closest flower or plant to where you are right now.

Tagged by @distractionsfromthefood !! Thank you!!

These are some of the flowers on our patio! My mom picked such pretty ones this year, I'm very fond of the real tall pink ones 😭🤌

No pressure tags! @cassandra-goths-wife @persephoneprice @omgcheez @madrigaljail @cannibalthoughts 😊

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alatariel-gildaen · 3 months

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TV show tag game

Rules: post 10 gifs of favourite TV shows without naming them, and tag 10 blogs

I was tagged by @norbertsmom, thanks love!

In no particular order...

@owl-by-night @celtic-crossbow @lola-andheruniverse @distractionsfromthefood @obsessivedaydreamer @eponine119 and anyone who wants to play too :)

#tag game

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typewriteringalaxy · 8 months

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Get To Know You Meme

Thanks for the tag @distractionsfromthefood ! I may have done this before, but it's been so long and tag games are fun, so here we go:

Tag game: tag 9 people you’d like to get to know better

Last song: 미친 폼 (Crazy Form) by ATEEZ

Currently watching: nothing?? maybe a french film called Haute Cuisine if that counts but honestly I've been too busy for much else

Three ships: timebomb, everlark, reylo

Favorite color: purple

Currently consuming: a greek salad

First ship: either something from Adventure Time or Taang

Relationship status: it's just me and my fanfics against the world baby

Last movie: The Peasants (a tragedy in a most aesthetically pleasing medium)

Currently working on: the yet unposted WIPs that I mentioned here, plus "Safe To Fall" 's epilogue and my RFFA assignment

tagging @lovesdevotion @youmaycallmeyourhighness @blueinsomnia @your-local-ruebit-hole-detective and whoever sees it and feels like playing along!

#tag game

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geeky-writes · 10 months

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The Greatest War

“The greatest war isn’t between the districts and the Capitol, Katniss. It’s between hope and fear.”

It’s been over two years since he was ripped away from her. Two years that she’s believed she would never see him again.

Two years that her fear has been winning every battle so decisively that hope doesn’t stand a chance.

Or, does it?

Written for @fandomtrumpshate for @distractionsfromthefood . New chapters will post every other week until the story concludes 🧡

#the greatest war #fandom trumps hate #fth 2023 #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #peeta and katniss #everlark #everlark fanfiction #geeky writes

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mollywog · 10 days

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Hi! What's the new project you started? Anything you can share?

I might be back in my Regencylark era - I know, can you believe it? (But I mean, have you seen this?!? Look at it!!)

I read an analysis (that I can’t find 😩) once that suggested Haymitch’s warning before the Post Games Interview was part of the reason Katniss was so confused about her feelings for Peeta:

"Your only defense can be you were so madly in love you weren't responsible for your actions." Haymitch pulls back and adjusts my hairband. "Got it, sweetheart?" He could be talking about anything now.

"Got it," I say. "Did you tell Peeta this?"

"Don't have to," says Haymitch. "He's already there."

"But you think I'm not?" I say, taking the opportunity to straighten a bright red bow tie Cinna must have wrestled him into.

…

"Don't have to. He's already there."

Already thinking ahead of me in the Games again and well aware of the danger we're in? Or... already desperately in love? I don't know. I haven't even begun to separate out my feelings about Peeta. It's too complicated. What I did as part of the Games. As opposed to what I did out of anger at the Capitol. Or because of how it would be viewed back in District 12. Or simply because it was the only decent thing to do. Or what I did because I cared about him.

Which made me think of Anne and Lady Russell in Persuasion (Persuasion AU)

After letting the idea marinate I think I figured out how to turn it into a one or two shot… it’s one of those things that I’ll either crank out by the end of the day or abandon in frustration and revisit and finish in a couple months 🤷🏼‍♀️

If your familiar with Persuasion- I’m cutting straight to the letter scene in Peeta’s POV

Snippet:

“He is a fine young man is he not,” Finnick says of the infant in his arms.

“That he is. How fortunate that he should favor his mother in looks.”

Peeta need not see Katniss’s face to hear the smile in her words. He’s trying not to eavesdrop from his seat at the desk in the Odair sitting room, but the conversation is not private and Katniss Everdeen has always been his weakness. He’s lost his place more than once in the corespondence he’s supposed to be attending to. His brother will have to forgive him his repetitive ramblings.

#ask #distractionsfromthefood #thank you for the ask!!#everlark fanfiction concept #Regencylark #persuasion AU #wip

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