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copias-thrall · 4 years

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Pretty Thing

[Should I be working on any of my other things? Yes! Did I write this instead? Also yes!]

Mary Goore is a troll.

Yes—a shit stirrer for sure, but mostly he’s a fiend who lives somewhere dank and far from people. Some say he squats in a mausoleum, but others will laugh and tell you he sublets a garden-level apartment. He’s always just around—the scene’s unofficial mascot who flits around, always there with everyone and no one, and damn … you just missed him! But on weekends you can find him working the doors at bars and venues collecting tolls for entry.

On cloudy days, you can find him hanging out in The Pit with all the other gutter punks, passing around a needle to pierce each other and the guitar to play out some tunes. At night, though, he always seems to be hanging off the arm of someone way too clean, looking like the cat who ate the canary. Wherever he lives, he seems to spend more time in someone else’s bed.

It’s a bright, sunny day when you encounter him alone—without the camaraderie of your tribe. Mary Goore is stomping down the sidewalk holding a black-lace parasol aloft. It’s a hot day, so beneath his studded and patched denim vest is just the pale , paleness of his dewy skin—so bright and reflective in the sunshine that you think that maybe he was the inspiration for that vampire. His black jeans are so ripped, you wonder if he wore them special—for the aeration. The carefully-constructed mat of his hair is making a valiant effort to stand up, despite how tufts of it stick to the sweat on his skin.

Some of it’s the shock of seeing Mary Goore out in the sunlight , and some of it is just how blindingly white he is—like sun refracting off a snowdrift—but you can’t help gaping at him even when you know he’s close enough to watch you do it.

Now, you don’t know Mary Goore, but you spend enough time in divey bars and underground venues that you’re sure he at least recognizes you, so you expect maybe a wink as he passes by. Instead he walks straight up to you and stops.

“You’ll catch flies that way,” he says, and you shut your mouth with a click. He leans against the building with his free arm and gives you a once over. “Like what you see, gelfling?”

Reflexively, you look him up and down. What you thought were freckles is actually a collection of moles that dot his skin. It’s cute.

“I thought you were a mirage.”

He snorts and leans into your space. “Cuz I’m a cool drink of water?”

You look down again at the flat planes of his pale chest.

“Because you’re, um … glowing.”

Mary licks his lips and hoods his eyes. Your heart pounds.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He leans in, and your eyes flutter closed. You wonder if he’ll taste as rank as he usually looks, or if he’ll taste like mint gum or something. Instead, you feel his lips at the conch of your ear.

“See ya ‘round, gelfling.”

Eyes snapping open, you whip around just in time to him striding away, the parasol still raised to shield him from the sun.

You don’t make it a point to seek Mary out—in fact, you’ve been trying to avoid him, sure he’d only make fun of you. So, it’s a surprise when—while waiting for your drink order—Mary suddenly appears. You start, but he just leans his elbow on the bar.

“Hey,” he says as he catches the straw from his—mostly-finished, bright-yellow drink with a pink paper umbrella—and wraps his plush lips around it. He sucks, and soon you can hear the rattle and slurp as his glass empties. He maintains eye contact with you as he keeps going, the death knell of the drink now gurgling in a prolonged throe as Mary makes use of his surprisingly robust lung capacity.

Before you can say anything, the bartender is placing your pint of beer in front of you.

“That’ll be $6.50, doll.”

Mary waves his arm. “Hey, Ned—put it on my tab.”

Ned raises his eyebrow at him. “You mean ‘Stephanie’s’ tab?” His chin indicates a girl across the room with bright pink and purple hair.

Mary grins, then slams his glass down on the counter. “And make me a tequila sunset.”

“That was a sunrise.”

“I know, man. I like variety.”

When he says ‘variety,’ Mary turns his head to you and winks.

Ned rolls his eyes and buses the glass—but not before Mary plucks out the paper umbrella. Mary crooks his finger at you, but when you hesitate, he leans forward instead.

“I expect you to treasure this forever,” he says as he sticks the umbrella in your hair just above your ear.

You sniff at him. “I’ll treasure it as long as you do your conquests.” You go for a dramatic exit, but almost spill your beer all over you when you practically collide with the guy behind you, and it sloshes a little bit over the lip of the pint glass. Straight backed, you walk stiffly away as Mary guffaws behind you.

The rest of the night, you make a point of not even glancing in Mary’s direction—you don’t want to see if there’s also an umbrella in Stephanie’s hair.

It’s late, and you’re drunk. The lot of you had parted ways after trivia with multiple $5 pitchers. Despite having downed your own weight in French fries, all you want is some fake cheese of the Cheetos variety.

The convenience store is on your way home and it’s still open. After the dark of the night outside, you almost have to shield your eyes from the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights. The bored teen at the counter watches as you stumble around to first the household aisle, then to the candy aisle, and back to the household aisle.

“Motherfucking cum whore,” you say out loud as you squint up at the signs again.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

You jump out of your skin, and almost careen into the greeting card rack—but Mary grabs your arm at the last minute. He’s in his worn leather jacket and some really tight-ass jeans. After leering at his thighs for a moment you say,

“Oh. It’s you.”

Mary squints at you and then grins. “You’re sloshed.”

You make a pffft noise at him.

“What drunk logic has brought you here?”

“I can’t find the Cheetos,” you whine.

He laughs at you. “All right. Hold on.”

You let Mary prop you up against the wall by the magazine rack, and you read all the celebrity gossip headlines while you wait. By the time he finally comes back, your eyes are beginning to droop with sleep.

“Hey,” he snaps his fingers in front of your face. “No sleeping yet.”

“Cheetos,” is all you can manage before pointing into your mouth with an ah noise.

There’s a bag placed into your hands, already open. You shove a handful into your mouth before you remember you have to buy it. So you start rooting around in your pockets.

“Jesus you’re a mess.You’re getting cheese dust everywhere. The fuck are you doing, anyway?”

“Gotta pay,” you mumble around the masticated food in your mouth.

“I took care of it. C’mon.” He puts his arm around your shoulders and guides you out of the store. You notice he’s got a coffee cup in his other hand when he brings it up to his mouth.

Once you’re outside, you see a woman in her best goth blacks and contoured Elvira face. She looks up at the two of you.

“Mare?”

“Aww, shit. Sorry, baby. I gotta walk a friend home. Some other time?”

The woman looks at you; even with Mary’s arm you’re weaving, and you haven’t stopped shoving the snack food into your mouth.

“Yeah, whatever.”

She walks into the street and immediately a cab pulls over.

“All right, you,” Mary says, drawing your attention back to him. “Let’s get you home.”

The two of you walk in silence except for the crunch of the Cheetos and the slurp of the coffee.

When you reach your apartment building, you say, “This is me.”

Mary shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Hey, uh—do you mind if I crash on your couch?” He gives you a sheepish smile. “I kinda thought I’d be sleeping … elsewhere.”

“Me casa su casa,” you slur.

“Cool, thanks.”

You can’t wait to see the looks on your roommates’ faces when they wake up to Mary Fucking Goore in their apartment.

But when you all get up, he’s already gone.

You’re eating meat off a stick to soak up the scorpion bowl you and some coworkers shared after a long fucking week. They’re upstairs getting the dance party started, but you’re not allowed up until you finish, so you’re content to watch the shot girls weave expertly in and out the crowd with their wares.

Suddenly a yellow and orange drink slides in front of you.

“But I didn’t …” you start, and that’s when Mary appears and clinks his bright red drink into yours.

“Fancy seeing you here. Oh—is that chicken?”

Before you can answer, Mary is sliding off a chunk of meat from the skewer and popping it in his mouth.

“Hey!” You sputter at him, but he just pushes the drink at you.

“Drink your sunrise.”

You glare at him, but he just takes a big gulp of his own, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. He removes his cherry and holds it out, and you notice that his nails are painted black with a red glitter topcoat.

“C’mon, don’t leave me hanging.”

Sighing, you remove your cherry and hold it out. As Mary touches his to yours he says “Clink”, and then pops it into his mouth. You do the same, squishing it between your back molars before taking a sip from the plastic stirrer in your sunrise. When you look up again, you see that Mary’s mouth is moving, his eyes unfocused. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he suddenly makes a noise of triumph. He spits something into his palm, which he immediately presents to you proudly.

He’s tied the cherry stem into a knot.

You just gape at him.

Mary deposits the stem into your hand, closing your fingers around it before leaning in. “In case you forget what I can do with my tongue.” Then he gently closes your mouth with a hand to the bottom of your chin. “You know, you keep doing that, and one day someone’s gonna stick something in there.”

Before you have a chance to respond, someone across the bar yells Mary’s name.

“Oop! Gotta bounce! Smell ya later, gelfie.”

And then he’s downing the rest of his drink and heading over to a gaggle of hipsters in flannel and leather. As you finish the last hunk of meat, you watch the group leave as they shout and whoop.

The last thing you expect to see on stage is Mary Goore on guitar when he’s not even in the fucking band. True, he’s been known to mix and match and do the occasional substitution—but there wasn’t even an announcement about it.

He’s in his stage shirt—the one almost covered in myriad blood trails—and a pair of jeans that are only torn at the knees. There’s a line of drinks next to him from admirers that he’s doing his best to slam back in between songs. The venue doesn’t make those kind of mixed drinks, so you’d sent Mary a shot of tequila with a cherry impaled on a plastic sword in it. “Inside joke,” you’d explained to the confused bartender.

When Mary gets to it, you watch the confusion on his face as he examines the contents. Then his head shoots up, scanning the crowd until his eyes land on you. You wave your own cherried sword at him before sucking the cherry into your mouth. He grins, takes out the sword, and runs it along his tongue before popping the cherry in. There are a few hoots from the audience, and then Mary is shooting the tequila before starting into the chords of the next song.

After the set ends, you convince your friends to stay for another round, vibrating with the certainty that Mary will come out to sass you. You can’t wait to see the look on your friends’ faces when he does.

It’s completely by accident that you even see him leave at all.

You’re waiting in line for the only bathroom in the entire place, when you see the band erupt from the back room. You raise your hand to wave, but Mary isn’t even looking in your direction. Instead, he’s got his arm draped around the bassist—the one everybody considers the “pretty” one—and is close talking in his ear. From the way the bassist’s hand is moving in Mary’s back pocket, you have a good idea who he’s leaving with tonight even before you watch them slip out the back door.

After that night, you go back to avoiding any place you think Mary might be. So it’s with irritated exasperation that you see him collecting cover for Thursday 80′s Night. He’s sitting on a stool, legs splayed wide open—with absolutely no shame that there’s a giant hole on the inside of his one thigh—his signature leer on full display.

You’re this close to suggesting to your friends that you just ditch theme night and go sing karaoke at the Chinese restaurant that turns into a club after 10pm, but then Mary sees you. He grins and waves you forward. You try to shake your head, but your friends see, and the group breaks free of the line.

A few people still waiting whine, but Mary just shrugs and taps his pen on the clipboard. “They’re on the list, guys.”

With exclamations of “Cool, dude” and “Thanks, man”, your friends fork over the $20 to Mary. When you try to hand yours over too, Mary just shakes his head.

“Gelflings don’t pay.”

“Stop calling me that,” you snap.

Mary looks a bit taken aback, but nods. “Yeah, ok.”

Again, you hold your money out, but he shakes his head again.

“Nah, you’re all set.

You narrow your eyes at him. “But I want to pay.”

“Buy your friends a round or something.” He gives you a wolfish smile. “Buy me a round.”

You slam the bill down on the stool between his legs, and he only flinches a little. He looks up and squints at you.

"Uh … have I done something to you?”

Inching closer, you get right up in his face. His eyes drop down to your lips before flicking back up.

“You’ve done nothing to me, Mary Goore. Nothing at all.”

For once he has no witty rejoinder, and you don’t bump into anything as you make your way inside.

Life gets a little busy, and before you know it, you realize it’s been two weeks since you’ve been out and about for real anywhere. You send out a text to the group chat, and soon there are plans to see some up-in-coming band at the bowling alley venue.

When you get there, you’re resigned to your fate when you see Mary holding court in the corner. His jeans are more holy than ripped, but you can definitely see his boxers peeking through. He’s in a modified sleeveless tee and his vest. The table next to his group is littered with empty pint glasses and beer bottles.

You look away before he has a chance to catch your gaze. It’s not like you can hide your presence, but you certainly don’t have to encourage him.

The group of you manage to snag a table close enough to the stage that’s being constructed over the lanes, and you put in an order for a round of beers. You sense him even before your friends do a double take at who’s behind you. Sighing, you twist around in your seat.

“What.”

Something you can’t pinpoint flickers across his face. He shrugs.

“Haven’t seen you ‘round.”

“Well, I’m not a grifter. I got shit to do.”

His face falls.

Your friends are watching this exchange like it’s a tennis match.

“I have something for you.”

Before you can even say anything, he’s walking back to his corner and rummaging through his leather jacket. He comes back over and starts searching your face—or at least that’s what you assume he’s doing. Satisfied with what he sees, he nods, then unfurls his palm. In it is a jeweled stud that’s eerily close to the color of your eyes.

“I noticed you were pieced,” he says as he offers forth the earring.

Game. Set. Match.

“I—”

When you make no movement to take it, Mary gently places the stud on the table in front of you.

“Ok,” he says and walks away. You only watch him for a moment before turning back to your table and picking up the stud.

One of your friends gapes at you.

“Did Mary Goore just penguin you?”

You look up sharply. “What? No. Shut up.”

It doesn’t stop there.

When Mary sees the stud in one of your holes—after you sanitized the fuck out of it—he starts giving you tokens. A bejeweled pin for your coat lapel. A subtle bracelet chain. A scuffed silver ring with a onyx inlay. A mother-of-pearl button to replace one you lost on your jacket.

A new one every time he sees you wearing the last one.

You have no idea where he’s getting them. They obviously aren’t new, and you doubt he’s trolling the pawn shops. Each time, he merely comes over, presents his offering, then leaves.

Some part of you realizes you’ve accepted his pitched woo when you get him a band pin from the local secondhand record shop. You know he usually works the door at the Irish pub on Friday nights, so you make it one of your stops. If he sees you in line, he certainly doesn’t try to wave you in again—but when your turn comes up again, you can see a smile start to break out on his face before he schools it.

“ID, please. Cover is $10 before 9 o’clock. No exceptions.” He smirks.

You mock gasp at him. “Highway robbery. I don’t even expect to pay that much on drinks.”

“Like you need to pay for your own drinks, beautiful.” His eyes take all of you in.

“Is that flattery, Goore?” you say leaning into his space.

His shrug says “maybe,” but his hooded eyes say “absolutely.”

Eyes still trained on his, you fish out two crisp fives while stealthily palming the pin. He cups his free hand out, and you place the bills in it, then rest the pin on top. Mary’s eyes zero in on the thing that’s not like the other, and you take the opportunity to skedaddle into the pub—two can play at the gift and run game.

It’s Saturday afternoon, and you’re bumming around in your apartment in a ratty tee and shorts when the buzzer makes its god awful noise. You’re a little wary because your other roommates are out, and you’re not expecting company.

You press the intercom. “Yes …?”

Feedback and a garbled male voice come through.

“Uh. This is Mary Goore. I’m here for …” he trails off, and you wonder if at any point you told Mary your name.

“Hey, dude,” you say.

“Oh. Is that you, um …”

You smile.

“Your gelfling? Yeah.”

“Cool. Cool cool cool. Can I … come up?”

You look down at yourself, and then at the detritus in the living room from 5 people.

“Or you could come down …?” he crackles.

“Gimmie 10,” you say.

Twenty minutes later you’re out the door, and you find Mary leaning against your building, thumbs hooked in his jeans. It’s a dreary day, so his parasol is nowhere in sight.

“Hey,” you say, and Mary opens his eyes. You’re in a comic book t-shirt and your denim shorts, and his eyes travel over you.

“Can I show you something?”

“Sure—” you start, then add, “—within reason.”

He nods. “Yeah. C’mon.”

The two of you start walking, you letting Mary take the lead.

After a block in silence, he says, “Thanks for the pin.”

You look over at him. “Thanks, uh … for the everything.”

He grins. “They look great on you.”

You walk a few more blocks, Mary taking you to a part of town that’s still close to the grid, but far enough that the houses are spaced apart. When he leads you to the back of a 3-story Victorian, you hesitate as he slides through the gate.

“What?”

“Is this the part of my life where I end up in pieces in a ditch?”

Mary rolls his eyes. He points to what looks like a back door.

“My door is here.”

Still wary, you follow after him as he unlocks the door and heads down a set of concrete stairs. You peer down at him.

“Are you sure this isn’t your murder basement?”

He turns to look up at you, his face scrunched in annoyance.

“Not all of us can afford nice, sunny apartments in high rises. Don’t be an asshole.”

“Sorry,” you say, even if you’re not 100% convinced.

You make your way down the steps and into the apartment. It’s actually not the lair you thought it would be. There are support beams throughout, but the paint is cheery and the furniture looks like your grandma got loose. Black clothes are draped everywhere, and there’s an old pizza box on the coffee table—but otherwise Mary’s place isn’t the shitshow you thought it would be.

“The lady’s mom died down here,” he says as he drops his keys on the kitchen counter. “I got it at a steal. As long as I pay rent and don’t blast music past 10pm, she could really give a fuck.”

“Is this what you …?”

He smiles at you, almost shyly. “No. C’mere.” He opens a door, and your interest propels your forward.

It’s Mary’s bedroom. Black cotton sheets are hung all around the room, and what look like back silk sheets—ripped at the corners—are stretched over a queen mattress laid on the floor.

“I’m not allowed to paint,” he says when he sees your line of sight. “And she got rid of the bed for obvious reasons.”

Your gaze comes down to the mahogany dressers. They’re covered in … costume jewelry? You approach one and are fascinated by all the baubles on it. There’s also a stack of polaroids. You pick them up to shuffle through. Most of them are portraits of what you assume are Mary’s conquests—though there are few … less than tasteful nudes.

You squint up at him. “I don’t understand, Mary. What am I supposed to be seeing? Some dead woman’s costume jewelry and bedroom set? Your porn collection?”

“Sorry,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I forgot about those.”

He comes over to take them from you. “I usually keep them here …” He opens the top drawer of the dresser, and you see that it’s full of lingerie.

You back away. “What the fuck is this? Am I here to pose for you or some shit?”

“What? Wait, no! That’s not—” Marys rubs his face in his hands. “Wait, lemme start over.”

Even though you’re dubious, you let Mary take your hands in his.

“Yeah, this place has strong grandma energy … but everything else is me. I brought you here because …” He sighs. “I like to look at the jewelry and I like to wear the lingerie. People, too. I like pretty things, ok? I like to collect them.”

You look back over at the hoard on his dresser.

“So you like … go to estate sales or something?”

You try to imagine Mary in his studs and ripped clothes—fake blood dripping down his face—at some fancy yard sale.

He grins at you.

“You have no idea what my day job is, do you?”

“It’s not making breakfast for your conquests?”

Mary laughs.

“Jesus, no. They want me to stick around as much as I want to stick around. No. I’m a grave digger. Well, I’m kinda a grave digger. Blah blah blah … long, boring story: because of union rules I can’t officially be a grave digger—so I’m paid under the table.”

You slap your hands to your mouth. “OH MY GOD. You’re a grave robber. OH MY GOD YOU’RE A GRAVE ROBBER. Did you?” Your hand flies to the stud in your ear. “ IS THIS?! ”

Mary chuckles at you, then shrugs.

“Yeah, ok. Maybe. But it’s not like they can take it with them—and it turns out that under the table doesn’t come with benefits.”

“Oh my god—is this where the mausoleum rumor came from?”

Mary again takes your hands and draws you closer to him.

“That’s actually not far from the truth. It’s a nice, quiet place. The stone’s a little cold, but no one bothers you there. We should go sometime.”

You look around his room again.

“But … I guess I thought you lived …. This is nice, Mary. Why wouldn’t you want to take people here? Why did you sleep on my couch that one time?”

He shrugs. “It’s just a place to sleep, isn’t it? A cheap, furnished basement.”

You stare at him.

“Why me? Why show me?”

He sighs, air punching forcefully out his nose.

“I dunno. Just a feeling. You ever just. Vibe with someone?” He ghosts a finger down the side of your cheek. “And I like pretty things.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’d like to.”

You stare at him. Hard. “I don’t like to share.”

He grins at you with too many teeth.

“If I collect you, I want you to be mine.” He crowds into you. “Will you be my Pretty Thing?”

You smile back at him before you’re leaning forward to press your lips into his.

#mary goore #my writing #original content #sfw

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zen3to5 · 4 years

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J/H 4-14: Jackie Says Cheese

Following production order, the next few episodes - "Red and Stacey," "Eric's Hot Cousin," "The Third Wheel," and "An Eric Forman Christmas" all remain unchanged in this timeline. I imagine some of you are surprised "The Third Wheel" didn't come in for a rewrite, and I watched it multiple times looking for an opening myself, but nothing jumped out at me. "Jackie Says Cheese," on the other hand...

(This is another one that was only partially re-written. Some re-written scenes are sequential, and some aren't; you'll know those by the *** separating them. Enough material is the same that I think anyone familiar with the episode can recognize the context for all of these. Just to get us all on the same page: imagine the episode playing out as you know it up until the second scene dealing with Thomas...)

FF.Net AO3

***

INT. HUB - DAY THOMAS continues to make his own mark as the “foreign kid:” he sits at a round table with TWO PRETTY GIRLS. Over at the wall table, FEZ watches with cold disapproval, while KELSO eats. “Long, Long Way from Home” by Foreigner plays on the jukebox. THOMAS: (laughing) I don’t know. I’ve just always been good-looking. He and the girls laugh some more. FEZ: (to Kelso) Look at that foreign bastard. Cracking up the whores. KELSO: Yup. That is one sexy accent. FEZ: Hey, if I pretend to say something funny, will you laugh? KELSO: What would you pretend to say? Fez snorts and looks back to Thomas. FEZ: That Thomas is shady. (to Kelso) And have you noticed he never says what country he’s from? KELSO: (beat) What country are you from? FEZ: What country are you from? KELSO: America. FEZ: Fine, mystery solved. He scoffs and turns back to stewing.

*** INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – DAY A quiet afternoon. HYDE reads in his chair, DONNA reads on the couch, and JACKIE paces up and down the room. Kelso enters through the basement door. KELSO: Hey. Jackie immediately crosses to him. JACKIE: Michael, I’m broke! I had to buy generic hair conditioner. And now, I have split ends. KELSO: Well, no one is gonna notice that, baby. HYDE: (to Jackie) Yeah, they’ll all be looking at that monster zit. Kelso shrugs, nods, and takes a seat on the couch. JACKIE: (to Hyde) I have to ration my cover-up. (to Kelso) So find a job already! KELSO: I’m trying, okay? It’s tough out there. HYDE: Kelso, you’ve been down here in the basement all day, reading the funnies. KELSO: And the next page over’s the want ads! I’m getting to it! Jackie glares down at Kelso, who tries not to look guilty. DONNA: What about that new store at the mall? The Cheese Palace. HYDE: “Where curd is king?” DONNA: The very same. KELSO: Nah. I saw that place. They’re only hiring for cheese maidens to hand out the free samples. Girl maidens. You know, with boobs and stuff. Donna looks up at Jackie. DONNA: Hey, you know who’s an actual girl with boobs and stuff? JACKIE: Oh, Donna, you don’t have to get a job just for me. DONNA: I was talking about you, pimple-chin. JACKIE: Oh, no, no, no, no. I am not getting a job. A job is for poor people. I am a rich person who doesn’t have money. Big diff. Donna and Hyde roll their eyes. Kelso looks up at Jackie, leans closer. KELSO: Hey, is that a blackhead? Jackie recoils at the thought. JACKIE: NOOOOOO! CUT TO: INT. MALL – DAY On a mildly busy shopping day, Jackie stands in the courtyard, in full cheese maiden attire, with a tray of free samples. She meekly offers it up to passers-by, who all ignore her. JACKIE: Cheddar? Cheddar? Cheddar? FADE TO BLACK COMMERCIAL BUMPER MUSIC NOTE: “Working in the Coal Mine” by Lee Dorsey. INT. MALL – DAY Right where we left off. Jackie keeps offering her cheese samples to patrons, none of whom seem interested. But for each effort, Jackie has a rhyme. JACKIE: Try the Swiss. You can’t miss. Try the Cheddar. It’s even better. Hyde comes around the corner and stops by Jackie. He looks down at the floor. HYDE: The floor’s real shiny, and I see your heinie. Jackie groans, hits him in the chest. HYDE: Hey, the cheese maiden hit me! Cheese guards, seize her! JACKIE: God, this job is awful! I’m starting to glisten! HYDE: You mean, sweat? JACKIE: No. Girls don’t sweat. Sweating is for boys and pigs. Girls glisten. HYDE: Like a Christmas ham. Undeterred by Jackie’s glare, he helps himself to some cheese samples. JACKIE: Where is Michael? The only reason I have this job is so he and I can be together. HYDE: In the basement, eating Fritos. (Jackie gasps) Yeah, if he sends in 80 empty Frito bags, he gets a remote-control car. JACKIE: I’m working for our love, and he’s trying to get a toy car? HYDE: (shrugs) Hey, bright side is, all that “glisten’s” pushed that blackhead out. Jackie’s hand goes to her chin as Hyde takes some more cheese. BUMPER INT. BASEMENT – DAY As Donna and Kelso watch TV (Kelso with a bag of Fritos), Fez paces up and down the room, muttering to himself. FEZ: Thomas. Thomas. Thomas! He stops, leans on the back of Hyde’s chair. FEZ (cont’d): What I have to do is show everyone that I am cooler than Thomas. You know, I once saw the Fonzie do something on TV that just might do the trick. CUT TO: EXT. BEACH – DAY FANTASY SEQUENCE. The whole gang, plus Thomas and the two girls from earlier, are gathered on a pier. Fez is the Fonz, complete with leather jacket, while everyone else is dressed for the beach. FEZ: I am now going to jump over a shark on water skis to prove that I’m the coolest foreign exchange student in Point Place. THOMAS: (scoffs) He’ll never make it. DONNA: Shut up. He can do it. He’s – the Fez! The gang all nod in support. FEZ: Okay. Here I go. Hit it. And off he goes, to a series of obviously blue-screened shots miming water skiing and stock footage of a great white shark. Fez takes time to break the fourth wall with a smile and a thumbs up. Back at the pier, the gang cluster together, Donna holding onto ERIC and Jackie surrounded by Hyde and Kelso. ERIC: He’s crazy, man! He’s crazy! HYDE: He’s at the ramp! An even more artificial shot fakes the act of jumping the shark as Fez cries out in triumph. Cut to him climbing back onto the pier and receiving congratulatory cheers, pats, punches, and hugs by the gang and Thomas’s two girls. JACKIE: You suck, Thomas! Thomas’s face runs with artificial sitcom tears. ERIC: Fez, you jumped that shark, and you’re not even wet. FEZ: That’s ‘cause I’m cool-a-mundo. Ai! He gives two thumbs up and grins. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – DAY Back to reality. Fez is grinning here too. He looks down at Donna and Kelso. FEZ: What do you think? DONNA: Not only is that the worst idea I’ve ever heard, it was the worst moment in television history. FEZ: (beat) Yeah, you’re right. I stopped watching after that episode. KELSO: I kinda liked it. Donna gives him a long stare; he inches away from her. FEZ: THOMAS! And back to pacing he goes. *** EXT. ROAD – NIGHT Kelso’s Samba out on the dark backwoods’ streets. Fez is behind the wheel, Kelso in the passenger’s seat, and Thomas right behind them, an arm on either chair. THOMAS: How exciting. My first American road trip. I can’t wait to see Lake Dillhole. Fez, with a small, sly grin, pulls over and puts her in park. FEZ: Well, the wait is over. We’re here. (to Thomas) Now, hop out, you crazy son of a gun. Thomas, beaming, jumps out of the van. Kelso takes a careful look around the area. KELSO: This is the Michigan border. FEZ: Well, what do you know? Thomas looks in through the drivers’ side window. THOMAS: So where is Lake Dillhole? FEZ: (pointing) Oh, it’s right there, behind the Get Bent Memorial. So, get bent, dill-hole! He throws the van back into drive and takes off down the road. He and Kelso share a quiet laugh. KELSO: That was a sweet burn, man. FEZ: You don’t have to tell me. KELSO: (beat) I don’t wanna take away from your moment, but we did just leave a high school kid stranded in the middle of nowhere, and his host parents are probably gonna want to look for him. (beat) And the cops. He and Fez share a look. Fez spins the wheel, and they both lurch as the van turns around. CUT TO: INT. MALL – NIGHT Jackie on the night shift. She continues to fail at drawing in samplers. Donna watches her with a big smile from the rim of a large plant pot, while Hyde stands just off to her side, sneaking cheese samples as she tries to solicit shoppers. JACKIE: (to patrons) The Gouda’s so good-a. The Havarti’s a party. Hyde reaches for a sample further down the tray. Jackie slaps his hand away. JACKIE (cont’d): Quit it! Steven, why do you keep eating all my cheese? HYDE: We’re in Wisconsin. (takes a bite) Hey, this Havarti is a party! He motions for Donna to come over. She joins them and takes a sample herself. JACKIE: Oh, my God, this is awful! A few minutes ago, I smelled stinky cheese. And it was me! HYDE: Hey, I stink after work too. Of course, that stink’s got nothing to do with work. And ganja ain’t no Gouda. Jackie shakes her head, passes him the whole cheese tray and starts to walk away. Hyde and Donna follow. HYDE (cont’d): Come on, Jackie. This can’t be that bad. DONNA: Yeah. And you got this job so you could be with Kelso. I mean, doesn’t that make it satisfying? JACKIE: NO! Kelso and Fez come around the corner. Kelso smiles at Jackie, but she holds a finger up before he can say a word. JACKIE (cont’d): Michael, I love you, but I am not cut out for work. I’m cut out for having rich people give me things. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. Just as she says this, her MANAGER comes up behind her and presents her with an envelope. He walks back into the store as Jackie opens it up. JACKIE (cont’d): Oh, my gosh. It’s a check! And that’s my name! Mine! She shows it off to Hyde, bobbing on her feet. Kelso starts to bob too. KELSO: (to Jackie) All right, so we can stay together! JACKIE: Yeah, and I can still be rich! KELSO: Yeah! You know, we deserve a celebration. Hey, let’s go buy me a remote-control car. JACKIE: No, Michael. Money doesn’t grow on trees. (gasps) Money doesn’t grow on trees. You know, I think having a job is changing me. Okay, think about it: a whole new me. HYDE, FEZ, DONNA, & KELSO: (beat) That’d be great. Jackie pouts at them all, takes back her cheese tray, and heads out into the courtyard.

#z's fics #that 70s show #zenmasters #jackie x hyde #zen3to5 #fan fiction #fan script

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retrauxpunk · 4 years

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Rain, I ask you: ALL the quarantine asks!

Animated character that was your gay awakening? not really an ‘awakening’ so much as a ‘hint’, but Azula from Avatar: the Last Airbender ... yep

Grilled cheese or PB&J? GRILLED CHEESE

What show/YouTube video(s) do you put on in the background when you when you don’t have anything to watch but you want something on? I don’t really experience this mood, but my go-to watch is the vlogbrothers YouTube channel

Your go-to bar order, if you drink? if it’s a low-key/work outing, lager or cider (esp the ones with non-apple fruits too); if it’s getting more serious (lol) or with closer friends or a more celebratory mood: vodka with sparkling apple juice

What’s your favorite pair of shoes that you own? these Doc Martens that are white with red hearts got ’em with my first ever full time design job paycheck. i did not take care of them well so they’re super scuffed/beat-up and very much not Perfectly White ... but they’re still comfy as heck, i still love the design, and they’ve lasted 3 years so far, let’s see how much longer we can make it ... also i think they’re a limited edition so i likely won’t get my hands on any replacements...

Top three cuisines? my cheap-ass answer would be, like: East Asian, South-East Asian, Western European ... but my non-shit answer is... Japanese, Chinese, Italian (ftr i’m not a seafood fan ... i just love the ramen and non-seafood stuff that japan makes hehe)

What was your first word as a child (that wasn’t a variation of “Mom” or “Dad”)? i have no clue

What’s a job that you’ve had that people might be surprised to find out you’ve had? cold-calling strangers to ask them to do market research phone surveys (y)

Look up. What’s directly across from you? the kitchen

Do you own any signed books/memorabilia in general? i have a messenger bag that i got signed by Jeph Jacques of the Questionable Content webcomic that i once adored ... and I think my boyfriend has gifted me a signed Matthew Reilly hardcover.

Preferred way to spend a rainy day? curled up indoors wearing something cosy, reading and eating something delicious. playing animal crossing lol. aaaaand listening to music, a good podcast, watching stand-up comedy, drawing, getting intoxicated...

What do you get on your bagels? What WOULD you get if you had access to anything you wanted? occasionally the standard smoked salmon and cream cheese, but i slightly prefer the meat to be, like, prosciutto

Brunch or midnight snacks? ehh fuck it, both???? both!!

Favorite mug you own easter limited edition waitrose mug, squat and round and yellow, painted/shaped like a very round chick. a Borb,,,,

What coffee drink would you describe yourself as? i actually thought about this and, uh, peppermint mocha. not for everyone, slightly weird, never fitting in with the regulars/being a default, but???? obviously awesome?? also: about 65% on the mainstream/hipster scale

Pick a song lyric to describe your current mood (and drop the name and artist!) The Wombats is the artist. lyrics are either “Let's dance to Joy Division / and celebrate the irony / Everything is going wrong, / but we're so happy” from Let’s Dance to Joy Division or “the edge of nowhere’s such a beautiful place” from Emoticons

Fruity or herbal teas? herbal but i agree with @queenofslime, black tea is the best

What’s that one TV show that you’re a little bit embarrassed to watch but you still like nonetheless? ...do i experience embarrassment about what i like to watch on TV? i don’t know if i do, because i watch relatively few shows ... and have relatively little shame? maybe???

That book you were forced to read for class but actually ended up enjoying? ftr i wasn’t bitter about this before reading, i had no preconceived biases against, and i was pretty open to liking it -- The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri

Do you match your socks? if they’re of a really nice design then yes always, if they’re of a more standard/generic design then ... not necessarily

Have you ever been horseback riding? yes a few times ... on the last time which was like five years ago ... the lady said i was a natural and asked if i’d ridden much before, which was. flattering. and yes this is a Brag.

What was your “phase” when you were younger? (i.e., Mythology Nerd, Horse Girl, Space Geek, etc) didn’t have much of a hardcore phase but i was pretty much always into fantasy ... oh wait yeah i did! i had a spy phase :)

Have you ever been to jail? to closed-down ones, yep

What’s your opinion on Lazy Susan’s (the spinning tray in the middle of tables)? pretty great idea unequivocably, right?

Puzzles? i tend to enjoy riddles/lateral thinking puzzles, i am impartial about jigsaw puzzles. i enjoy escape rooms.

You can only have one juice for the rest of your life, what is it? apple ... but elderflower if i’m feeling reckless (y)

What section do you immediately head for when you walk into a bookstore? young adult ... or stationery

What’s one thing you’re trying to learn/relearn in your downtime right now? Russian language :( it’s going не так хорошо

Who’s your go-to musical artist when you’re feeling upbeat? not sure if i have a go-to artist so much as go-to playlists i’ve made but some good ones are The Wombats and Bastille

Where could someone find you in a museum? mammals/birds in natural history

What’s that one outfit in your closet you never get the chance to wear but want to? i swear i was talking about this recently but i clean the fuck forgot what it was ... oh yeah, i have this short-sleeved black minidress festooned with silver buckles/buttons and also featuring decorative suspenders ... which, yes, does make me look like a sexy military officer,,, anyway it’s pretty badass and somehow it hasn’t occurred to me till now that i can just wear that every day now if i want? ftw i do get the chance to wear it, it’s just a little bit Extra so i get self-conscious. i’ve worn it a few times though. including to work. because fuck it, right? i didn’t become a graphic designer to be shy about sometimes looking like a prototypical emo/scene kid-turned-adult??? (ftr i was never an actual emo/scene kid. i lacked the requisite guts, commitment of feeling, and permissive parents.)

Rainbows, stars, or sunset colored clouds? sunset-coloured clouds :)

If you could own any non-traditional pet (dogs, cats, fish, rodents, etc), what would it be? how about a shapeshifting feathered dragon that could range from, like, two thirds of a foot long (20cm) to sit on your shoulder, to ... the size of a massive draft horse? (but longer and thinner)

Do you have more art on your walls or more photographs? photos, though if i didn’t live with a partner, it might be art

You have to get one meme tattooed on your body, what meme is it and where does it go? i’ve already got a meme tattooed on my body ... a private meme i have with my boyfriend, one on each leg (left: outer side, just above knee; right: outside, a few inches above the ankle)

Pick a superhero sidekick to hang out with ?????? is this a sidekick to a known superhero, or a superhero to act as your sidekick? also i don’t know? who are the standard heroes? i’m not up to date on this.

Lakes, rivers, or oceans? rivers or oceans

Favorite mid-2000s song i can’t decide a favourite, it’s too stressful, but one that i like is Rob Thomas’s Little Wonders

How do you dress when you’re home alone? either a t-shirt and PJ pants, or a dress (usually short-sleeved/sleeveless minidress)

Where do you sit in the living room (we all have a preferred spot, and you know it)? on either side of the couch haha

Knives or swords? BOTH but ok swords.

A song you didn’t think you’d enjoy but ended up loving hmmmmm like all of Linkin Park’s first three albums with some exceptions? hahahah

Pick an old-school Disney Channel Original Movie i don’t think i.....know any????

Are you a “Quote that relates to the photos” caption-er, an “explanation of where I took the photos” caption-er, or a no caption kinda person when you post pictures online? explanation, though on instagram quite often the photo and caption are unrelated

Name a classic Vine there’s only one thing worse than a rapist...

What’s the freezer food that you stock up on when you go to the grocery store? dumplings! as in the gyoza type.

How do you top your ice cream? that ‘magic’ chocolate sauce that hardens into chocolate. that stuff. i watched those ads all childhood long but my parents were immigrants and therefore very thrifty so we NEVER bought it iirc and then in my adulthood i got it a bunch of times. but now i live in the uk and can’t find it. and forgot it existed. and have never seen it anywhere.

Do you like Jello? the kind that’s served on a plate as a dessert? meh. the kind that are found in asian grocery stores as individual fruit-flavoured serves in little plastic cups? YES

What’s something that you don’t have a picture of that you wish you did? future stock prices? LOL ... or i’m gonna go with @queenofslime‘s answer again -- how others see me. it’s a great answer.

How are you at climbing trees? not............ good. i mean, i like climbing, but i have absolutely terrible upper body strength. i did bouldering for a couple months but only stuck to the first like... three out of nine difficulty levels.

#thanks!! hehe #quarantine asks #queenofslime #asks

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bixbythemartian · 5 years

Note

hello! very excited about the celebration ficlets! prompt: a pizza delivery driver keeps delivering pizzas with one slice missing and must figure out what the hell is happening. I really enjoy your work and am looking forward to seeing more :)

You know, I was actually accused of stealing a slice of pizza on delivery once. I’m still bitter about it.

“Listen, I made the pizza. Shaped the dough, tossed it. Sauced and cheesed and topped it. I cooked the pizza, I sliced it, I fucking delivered it, and it had all it’s pieces! Nobody fucking touched it but me, and I didn’t eat a slice of that!”

My boss sighed. “I know,” he said.

“It was a gross pizza! Double anchovy double pineapple, it was wet and stinky.”

“I know,” he said.

“Like, you don’t seriously think I stole a slice, right?”

“No. You don’t do that. It’s been happening to everybody, I don’t know.” He sighed. “Okay, I’ll make and deliver it, you watch the store, alright?”

“Sure.” I sat down and leaned back, and started meditating, because I suddenly had a thought. There was something... unreal going on. Unseen.

I watched my boss make the pizza, and as he was walking out the door, I saw it. A little critter, green and skittering, and I ran forward and snagged it by the back of the shirt.

A goblin, that makes sense.

It tried to fight me but it was pitifully thin.

“Hey now, calm down. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

It finally stilled.

“What’s your name?”

“Klink.”

“Well, Klink, if you’re hungry, all you have to do is ask.”

“Hungry.”

“Yeah, I got that. Hey, sit down and I’ll make you a pizza. What do you like?”

“I like stinky pizza.”

“Well, I think there’s some anchovy oil and I know we got green olives, maybe some curried chicken?”

“Yes, yes. And onion and garlic?”

“Plenty of that,” I said. I hated dealing with anchovy oil, but this poor critter was definitely starving.

I made Klink a large and they ate every bit, so much pizza that I was worried about their little tummy bursting.

“Better?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Make a deal with me, alright? If you’re hungry, ask. I’ll make you as much pizza as you can eat.”

“Have littles.”

“Have li- you have babies?”

Klink nodded.

“Well, all you had to do was say that.” I started rolling out dough.

Every day for a month I showed up before the store opened and made Klink 7 pizzas of the weirdest concoctions I could come up with. The weirder and smellier, the more Klink liked it. Sooner or later someone was gonna notice food cost had crept up, I guess, but I was using lesser-used ingredients and occasionally replacing them out of my own pocket to offset it. I brought in durian one day, just to see what would happen, and Klink about floated through the roof they were so happy.

I didn’t really remember the thing about goblins and owing favors, I’m gonna be honest. Klink was putting on weight and talking about how big their littles were getting. That was the important part. Goblins have it rough, they’re tenacious but magic pushes them out of some places and iron out of others. we use brick ovens and pizza stones, or they probably wouldn’t be able to come in.

The last day, Klink told me their litter was ready to move out, and gave me a small bag. “You help Klink, Klink help you.”

I didn’t look. I had learned enough about Goblins that I knew, you don’t look at whatever they give you until they leave. They will believe it to be enough, sometimes it’s more than what you gave, sometimes it’s less. I wasn’t worried, again, I did it for the principal of the thing. Goblins have a rough gig, gotta make do with between places.

“Klink won’t come back. Found better place.”

“Sorry to see you go,” I said, meaning it. “Your kids gonna be alright?”

Klink grinned at me. “Fine big strong healthy goblins. You help with that. Be well.”

“Be well,” I said.

I checked the bag after Klink left. It had two golden dollar coins, and a note. “Buy powerful ticket before tomorrow.”

“Powerful,” I wondered. “Oh, powerball.” I had misread it. “Okay. Sure.”

So now they’re doing the draw, and I’m waiting to load the webpage, with the ticket in hand. It’s probably silly to hope, but. Well.

It’s an awfully big pot, tonight. And goblins, they have their ways.

#celebration ficlets #GOBLINS #pointed-in-a-crooked-line

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dandyfics · 5 years

Text

taste ; lee minho ☆

━━☆

— summary: as many say, even the smallest things can create small clusters of happiness. what if that happiness comes from somewhere familiar? perhaps the local creamery you’ve grown too fond of?

— genre: fluff, a whole lot of fluff, ft. other skz members — pairings: ice-cream boy!minho x office worker!reader — word count: 2.6k — warnings: explicit language, cursing

— author note: beware of spelling & grammar errors ! this was based on some random sub reddit so uhm– it doesn’t really have a theme ?? but i hope you enjoy my first **published** fic nonetheless bubs ! and of course, gender neutral !

You hate Mondays. The endless demands from your co-workers to grab some coffee, the hideous traffic anywhere you go, your boss shouting like a bewildered orangutan, and of course the ravenous feeling that washes in your stomach. You fear that you’re not going to make it by the time lunch break rolls in.

Obviously, this doesn’t only apply on Mondays. But the fateful day decided to be a special snowflake to you and your work ethic, which makes it ten times shittier than any other day. Not to mention the hefty piles of paperwork that you need to finish at home before August. A year into the work experience in Seo’s Publishing & Co. and you still struggle to get that promotion you’ve been opting since January. At least they pay you well.

But you weren’t alone on that exact Monday. Summer and it’s endless supplies of heat waves decided to enter your life before you even know it. As Han Jisung likes to say, what a great time to be alive. Not.

“It’s so fucking hot.” Felix limps on his desk chair, frantically fanning himself with a big blue binder. You, on the other hand, already prepared long before with two hand fans screeching atop your desk. “Why is the AC off?”

“Because Mr. Seo said ‘fuck global warming’, which is ironic since his office has two air conditioners that are always on,” Kim Seungmin says, plopping on his chair before turning on his brand new industrial fan that he keeps on bragging about since the beginning of July, claiming that he’s got the weather ‘under control’. Felix doesn’t respond at this rate, instead, he oggles weirdly at the fan Seungmin got from God-knows-where.

You groan miserably. “Turn that damn thing off, you’re perpetuating hot air onto my face.”

“I’ll do that. Once Jisung stops wasting all the cold air from the fridge.”

“I swear to God, Han. If you eat my frozen waffle once again.” Typical Felix who will always protect his food. That kid will protect his cream cheese bagel even if WWIII decided to occur.

Jisung frowns childishly. “It’s just too hot. I’m evaporating, literally.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m in the room.” Hwang Hyunjin merrily waltzes into the conversation, earning a few annoyed gazes and grouses from his co-workers.

“Choke on a baguette.” Seungmin grunts, throwing a crumpled printer paper at him. “Your presence isn’t needed here anymore, not after that promotion of yours.” Hyunjin smiles smugly, taking a sip from his ‘Best Uncle’ coffee cup.

Yearly promotions have gotten a toll on you, ever since Hyunjin got his place as the assistants’ assistant, he’s been moved to the 3rd-floor cubicle; located right next to the main office, which – you’ve guessed it – is completed with a working air conditioner. Big headed Hyunjin has and will never stop mentioning it. ‘We’ll stay together till one of us gets fired’ my ass.

“You’re just jealous because I earned that cool cubicle on the 3rd floor. Unlike y’all peasants who rely on factory industry fans.” Hyunjin scoffs, emphasizing on the last sentence. Seungmin chokes on his coffee mug.

“You got a problem with Becky?”

“It has a name?” Jisung half-whispers at you, earning a shrug.

“Shut up, Hyunjin, just go back to your fancy little office and do your five stacks of paperwork that you haven’t touched since last week.” You quip, earning a high five from Felix. “Oh, and neither your niece nor nephew likes you, Hwang.”

Hyunjin gasps dramatically, hiding his graphic cup from your sight. “How DARE you.” Jisung cackles his ass off as if he’s enjoying some random Netflix show, watching Hyunjin as he takes an indignant sip from his cup whilst trying to explain that his niece just ‘mildly dislike him and nothing more’. You – being the only one with a sane state of mind – take a glance at the clock.

“Oh, shit. It’s already 12.” You murmur. “Anyone down to get out and grab lunch? I’m not talking to you, Hyunjin.” Felix goes in for another cheeky high five as Hyunjin flouts.

Seungmin pushes his glasses from the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Look, Y/N. As hungry as I am, I’m not going to burn into a crisp of bacon outside in this weather.” He retorts, continuing on his Pdf file. “Fun fact, it’s almost 34° Celcius outside. I’d rather starve to death than sweat to death.” Jisung sheepishly agrees, engulfing in the cold fridge air.

You turn to Felix sympathetically, expecting him to join you. “Can’t you see that I’m hyperventilating?” Felix whines like a wet dog, thudding his head repeatedly on his messy desk. You click your tongue at the pathetic sight.

“Okay, so no one’s gonna join me?” You ask for the last time. Rethinking again about getting burned in the midst of the July air. Was it worth it? Should you really drag one of your co-workers in the ungodly weather?

Silence.

You huff, disappointed lacing your features as a genius idea draws onto your mind. “Well, I’m heading to the creamery near the park. Don’t come at me trying to get a lick from my rocky-road cone.”

“Shit, ice cream sounds great right now!” Jisung squeaks from the floor.

“Please, Y/N, can you get me the mint chocolate one? I need something to cool me off.” Felix jolts from his seat seemingly refreshed and youthful again. Seungmin cheers from his desk, presumably also in the mood for something cold and creamy. Hyunjin screeches like a pterodactyl from the corner of your eye, screaming something about chocolate.

Your co-workers haven’t really grown up, have they?

“Suddenly I’m your servant? Nice try.” You reply playfully, raising an eyebrow at your half-melting co-workers. They all groan in unison. “Nothing is free. Everything comes with a pri–”

Jisung surges from his butt. “Tell you what, I’ll buy you dinner. Chinese at that place you always wanted to visit!” He offers, making the others try to think of a better deal than his. “Only if you get me the cheesecake ice cream.”

Seungmin follows up. “Y/N, if you get me a cup of cookies and cream, I’ll finish reviewing that book for you. Oh, and also a stack of your paperwork. What do you say?” Jisung boos at Seungmin’s boring choice of flavor.

“I’ll give you a foot massage!” Felix adds.

“Tempting.” You snicker smugly before turning to Hyunjin. “Aren’t you going to offer me something, Hwang? Anything?”

Hyunjin avoids eye contact with you before crooning. “Fine, I’ll give you a ride in my convertible for the rest of the month.” You mentally tap yourself in the back for getting great deals just for a bucket of cheap ice cream. Drastic time does require drastic measures, they say. You grab your bag and walk towards the elevator with a jolly good feeling.

“You all got yourself a deal. Better be ready for that foot massage, Lix.”

Dori Creamery. The sweet scent of vanilla and cream whiffs onto you as you walk near the entrance. You spent almost all of your college days being a customer in the said creamery. The place is medium sized, petite but fancy. The light neapolitan colors being the aesthetic of the shop brings back all the memories. You recall the seconds when you had your first date, celebrating your graduation with a cup of mango-sorbet, and your heartbreak spent accompanied by a tube of berry delight.

You liked the place. No, you loved the place. Hints of nostalgia always hit you whenever you enter the calming aura of the room, only this time, the creamery is packed with people. And not just any people; sweaty, loud, body-odor inducing people.

You managed to squeeze in the back of the line, avoiding the nasty body-sweat that lingers around. You can also go to another shop, but hey, where’s the fun in that? If you can’t even get some ice cream, what’s even the point?

“Excuse me, coming through.” You mumble as some guy nearly bumps you out of the line. The whiff of wind in the room is prominent, but the body heat everyone seems to be sharing nearly evaporates you apart.

You opted on scrolling through your phone while you wait for the person at the very front to make up their mind about ‘I’m on a low sugar diet but I really want to try the strawberry shortcake, should I?’. After a while, the line started to dry out, until there’s only you and a few others before you.

Everything was fine and dandy until you feel a force coming from beside you, nearly shoving you down to the floor. “Hey, what the hell?” You scold. A woman suddenly stands in front of you, cutting your precious time and line.

“I’m in a hurry.” She claims, whipping her head to decide on her order.

If you’re in a hurry why the fuck did you stop for ice cream? A rasp of vexation coils in you, leaving you to do nothing but scowl at the woman. The heat isn’t helping either. A part of you wanted to flip everything off – including the woman – but you remind yourself that you’re no cavemen and it’s just some ice cream, it’s no big deal.

You couldn’t do much but sigh and wait for your turn, hoping that no one else would do something as ignorant as she did. Not even a single sorry? Great, just what you needed.

The woman finally decided on a pistachio order and storms off with a receipt in one hand and a double-scoop cone on the other. You irkly glance before walking towards the counter, repeating the order in your head.

“Uh, hi. I would like a cone of–”

“Rocky road with whipped cream?”

“Yeah, that. And– wait, how did you know?” You eyed the cashier, who’s smiling meekly at you. Nearly staring in awe, you almost forget about the whole order after meeting the enthralling smile painted on his face. “Do I… know you?”

He chuckles lightly, handing his co-worker a slip of paper. “No, it’s just that you always order that. Don’t you ever get bored of it?”

“It’s too good to be bored with.” You say, beaming idly. Finally, a nice–decent human being with good manners. “So, you’re not new here?” You mention, raising an eyebrow. The boy beams, reminding you of the Cheshire Cat – mere charisma laced in his smile.

He shakes his head, denying your question. “Actually, I own this place.”

Your eyes widen. “Really? How come I’ve never seen you before?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” The boy teases. “I mostly work at the kitchen, perfecting my secret recipe. But I always know my customers.” He playfully answers. “Oh, and if you don’t mind, I added your order to that woman’s receipt. Can you imagine cutting a line just for a cone of caramel and pistachio?” Your eyes widen. Not so sweet after all, huh?

“Wh– isn’t that illegal or some shit?” You ask, worrying that your favorite ice cream parlor will shut down because of the FBI finding out about your stupid cone of rocky road. The boy shrugs innocently.

“Not if you don’t get caught.” He winks.

You scoff, an unfamiliar feeling clusters in your stomach, just like the thrill of first crushes but with a different – slightly bizzare taste. “I’m still ordering something else, though. Tell me, is the rocky road free?” You ask, still unsure of what just happened. Free ice cream isn’t something you get every day, come to think of it. He pretends to think for a while before nodding.

“But,” He says. “You have to do me a favor in return.” You raise your eyebrow, preparing yourself for any stupid favor he has in mind. The blossoming feelings doesn’t stop pounding in you, and suddenly it’s middle school all over again. “How about your number? That seems fair, yeah?” He smiles coyly. You snort.

“Sir, am I hearing things wrong or are you flirting with me?”

“Well, do you want your precious rocky road cone or not?” He playfully sniggers at you. You cognitively slap yourself back alive, lured in by his small tricks. You had no choice, do you? Hey, at least the boy’s cute.

You grab a piece of tissue from the counter without answering. “Do you have a pen?” Handing you a pen, he rests his head on top of his palm, watching you write down your number carefully – trying not to rip the tissue or create a hole. He smirks in satisfaction, watching you as your face washes in a flustered demand. “What’s your name?”

“Minho. Lee Minho.”

“As in the actor? Wow, I’ve never thought he’ll be selling ice cream downtown.”

“I wish.” You giggle at his response, handing him the nearly ripped tissue paper.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” You say, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck. Minho slides the paper on his pocket, handing you a cone of rocky road with whipped cream and sliced strawberries on top as an extra dressing. “Thanks, I’m also ordering two medium buckets of cookies and cream with chocolate and mint-choco with blueberry cheesecake. No toppings, please.” You finally excecute the order after countless unsuccessful rehearsals in your head.

Minho writes down the order before sliding the paper towards his co-worker who seems to be wiggling his eyebrows from your view. “Wow, that’s a lot to eat in one sitting. No toppings?” You shake your head again.

“It’s for my co-workers. Oh, and spit on the chocolate one, if you may.”

“Kinky, but it’s not something I’ve never tried before,”

“I’m just kidding, geez.” You huff, trying to hide the bubbling smile as you wonder, trying to imagine what happened to occur that precise course of action.

“You work at the publishing company now, huh?” He asks, pointing at your nametag as he passes your two buckets of ice cream. You nod enthusiastically. “I remember you coming here late at night in your pajamas doing calculus while shoving cookie dough up to your face. Good times.”

A coral blush crept from your cheeks. “Okay, now you just sound creepy.”

“Well,” He says, his face panning closer to you as you flinch back in surprise. “I’d like to stay and chat, Y/N. But you’re holding the line.” Minho reminds you, cocking his head towards the line. “Let’s continue some other day, yeah?”

You glance at the clock and then at the line behind you. “Oh shit, you’re right.” Clicking your tongue, you mention silently. Disappointed that you have to go back to your crusty co-workers, who’s probably whining over the fact that you’re still not back yet. “How much for the two tubes?”

“Twenty five.” He answers watching you run swiftly through your wallet. “But if you’re willing to go to dinner with me next Saturday, it’s free.” Minho says. Your heart does a cartwheel as you stare into the boy, wiggling his eyebrows at you. What more can you ask from a good looking guy like him? Cheeky bastard.

“How can I say no to that?” The coral blush that tinges on your cheeks fades into a deep red. “To be honest, I’m baffled. You sure know a lot about me, but I don’t know much about you, Minho.”

He hums. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

“You got yourself a date, Mister. Now if you’ll excuse me, someone at the office owes me a foot massage.” Minho winks one last time before you leave the ice cream parlor.

With heart in your hand and ice cream in the other, you walk out the creamery with a delighted feeling. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll melt away like ice cream in scorching hot weather if you think about the ice cream boy too much.

#stray kids #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz #lee minho #lee know #minho #stray kids fluff #fanfiction #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop fanfiction #dandelion!

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bumblebet-20 · 5 years

Text

What we left behind

5sos x reader

warnings: swearing, divorce, angst (oh so much).

A/N: GUYS OMG THIS IS MY VERY FIRST SERIES AND IM SOOOO EXCITED :3

Couldn't have done this without my boo @aspiringwildfire

-FLASHBACK-

“Happy Birthday, Enid!” Everyone yells after I blow out the candles, tossing up confetti they held in their hands.

“What did you wish for, Ed?” Calum asks, face covered in frosting from the chocolate cupcake.

“You know I can’t tell you, Cal!” I giggle slightly, turning towards the slice of strawberry cake in front of me.

“I can’t believe my baby is 7 today!” My mum says, suddenly behind me and nearly squeezing the life out of me.

“Hey, Ed! Let’s go play!” Michael exclaims on the other side of the yard, holding a yellow ball in his hands. A quick giggle escapes my lips as I quickly move out of my mum’s arms, running over to where he stands, followed by Calum and Luke.

“Be careful of your dress honey!” My mum hollers as we chase the ball, her words barely reach my ears as I focus on beating the other team.

We played football until the sun set, the only time we took a break was when people left and I had to say goodbye to them. Daryl came out and brought us inside for dinner, only us four and our parents remain to finish the celebrations.

“Eat up kids, we’ll set up the tent in a bit.“Liz says, setting down a box containing a large Cheese pizza in front of us.

-After finishing the pizza and getting the tent set up, we settle in our sleeping bags, the only source of light being the lantern in the middle of our circle.“Did you have a fun birthday?” Michael asks, stopping his game of ‘Crazy Eights’ with Calum.“

I had a blast! You three made it great” “

Aw, Ed! We’ll always be here to make your birthday awesome” Luke exclaims, pulling me into a tight hug. The others soon join, causing a dog pile and loud laughs to erupt from all of us.

Once the laughter calmed down and we resumed our previous games, a thought ran through my head “Hey guys? Can we all agree to remain friends no matter what?”

“Of course! Nothing will tear us apart” Calum says, earning agreement ‘yeahs’ “We’re gonna be best friends for life!” Luke hollers

.-10 years later (2012)-“Come on,Becks! We can’t miss this!” I exclaim, grabbing the hand of my best friend, weaving through the crowd outside the building and stopping in front of the stage, waving at the boys while they are getting their instruments ready.

“Oh! Here are our seats” She points to a round table filled with chairs right in front, our names scribbled on paper.

“Hey girls,”Joy says, taking a seat in her designated chair, Mali following right behind her.

“Everyone else is right behind us, “Mali says, motioning to the door where the familiar heads of the Hemmings’ bobs over everyone else.

Once everyone got settled in their chairs, Luke taps the microphone lightly.

“Hello, we are Five Seconds of Summer and welcome to our show!” Luke says into the microphone, earning a round of applause and a ‘whoop’ from me.

“1,2,3,4!” Ashton exclaims before the music begins, filling the nearly empty space with the beginning of ‘Unpredictable’. My foot starts to tap at the beat, unable to contain my smile when Lukes’ voice fills the room.

“She sit at home with the lights out” Rebecca sings lowly next to me.

“Seeing life in different colours” We finish together, pretending our hands are microphones.

“Thank you for coming! This has been Five Seconds of Summer! Good night!” Luke exclaims into the mic before walking off stage.

“Alright, let’s go see our boys,“Liz says as she stands up and heads to the doors where the boys went off from.

“Mum!” Luke exclaims, running to her once we all enter their changing room. All the boys greet their families before I’m swiftly picked up by Ashton and spun around.

“Alright,put her down before you hurt someone, “My mum says, stopping Ashton from spinning my brains out and gently places me on solid ground.

“So, food anyone?” David receives shouts of agreement in return.The parents walked ahead to the cars while we took our time heading out.

“Oh boys! I made some gifts for you” I dig around my bag before finding the plastic baggy, taking out four bright bracelets, each one having a letter for each boy. Rebecca takes two and puts them on the right boy’s wrist.

“Are these friendship bracelets?” Michael asks, twirling around the orange one on his wrist.

“Yeah. I just thought that you boys are gonna make it big someday and I just- don’t want you to forget about the little people” I awkwardly shuffle my feet across the concrete floor, suddenly feeling embarrassed that I even did this.

“I love it! What better way to signify our friendship than with a bracelet!” Ashton tugs me into a hug, squeezing me tightly.

“Alright you kids, let’s go!” Liz says from the end of the corridor, motioning with her hand to come.

“We better go, don’t want an angry Liz on our hands” Calum comments as we all walk towards the door.

[1 month later]

I hum quietly as I braid Becks hair, the two of us deciding to have a sleepover at my house.

“Have you been watching the videos they upload? They’re gaining a lot of views” She says quietly, busy drawing in her sketchbook.

“I know, it's about time people realize their talent”

A knock on my window makes us jump as we turn to it and see Calum’s face pressed against it.

“Cal, what are you doing?” I question once he’s inside.

“ You won’t believe the news we just got” Becks and I share a confused look before returning our attention to the bouncing boy.

“Well? Spill dude” Calum gives her an unamused look, but continues to bounce.

“Okay so we’ve been getting a good number of views on our covers and earlier we got an email asking if we’d be interested in opening for this group-”

“What group?” Rebecca asks, curiosity getting the better of both of us.

“One Direction” Both our jaws drop at the name.

“That’s amazing Cal! I told you you boys would get famous one day!”

“We sign the contract tomorrow and start working out a setlist”

“When do you guys leave?” Calum nervously swallowed at the question.

“Three months” I feel my heart drop at how soon they’ll be leaving.

“Senior year starts in three months…”

“We know, but this is such a great opportunity and this is the boost we need to become famous”

“I’m so happy for you guys!”I exclaim overly eager, earning an odd look from Rebecca.

“We just knew you would be!” He flashes us his award winning smiling before slipping back out the window.

“Alright, spill. That was such a fake congratulations.”

“I’m- I’m happy for them”I fiddle with the brush I was holding.

“Bull. Shit. I’ve never seen more forced joy than right there.”

“What’s gonna happen when they leave for tour? We’re gonna stay behind while they go off and make a name for themselves.”

“Aren’t you happy that they got this opportunity? This is what they want” I sit on the edge of my bed and she joins, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah but- I can’t help but think that it was supposed to us 6. Forever. No one and nothing can come between us”

“They’re still your boys. Now-” She stands, grabbing my hands on the way. “Let’s go get some ice cream and watch movies.. We can deal with this later” I laugh but follow her out to the kitchen.

[5 months later]

“Any response yet?” I simply shake my head at my mum’s question, returning to the book I was reading. “They’ll text back. Just got to be patient honey.”

“Yeah” I reopen IMessage and all texts to them since they left have all been left on read and I can’t figure out why. “I’m going to hang out with Rebecca for a bit” I say after reading her text, receiving a simple ‘mhm’ from my mum.

“And they haven’t even said a simple ‘hi’ or ‘ thanks’?” Rebecca questions, popping a crisp in her mouth.

“Nothing. Did- Did I do something? Should I have sent mail or-”

“Ed stop. You did nothing wrong, okay? They’re hormonal teenage boys, we should really expect this behavior.. But that by no means excuses their rudeness.” I go quiet, opting to play with my sandwich.

“They’re performing in Sydney in two weeks.. I was thinking of stopping by” I casually say, not looking up from the food.

“Alright.” I look up at her, shocked by her response. “I don’t agree with this idea but I’m not not gonna let you do this- definitely not alone.” She puts her hand over my own, offering a soft smile. “Now. About this Art assignment”

\night of concert\

“Okay, the plan is as follows: we go to the concert. Park where we see tour buses and wait. Find the boys and talk. Ending the night with pizza, candy and scary movies at my place.”

“Sounds like a well thought out plan.” I take one last look at myself, adjusting my top before turning to my brunette friend. “Ready?”

“Ready” We loop arms, skipping the whole way to her car.

“Damn, they are loud” Becks jokingly says from our position against the car, listening to our boys play.

“They sound good (feels good hehe :D)” I comment, pushing some of the gravel around with the toe of my combat boots.

We remain in a comfortable silence until the doors swing open and familiar voices fill the air. I look over at her, wide eyed.

“Now or never babe”

“What do I-”

“Hey boys!” She screams, making them all turn around, alarmed looks on their faces.

“Uh- Hi” Luke says, waving awkwardly in our direction.

“Enid here would like to talk to you boys. In private”She nudges me forward and I take timid steps to them.

“Let’s go in the bus” Ashton opens the door for everyone before closing it behind him.

“So-”

“Why’d you guys do it? Why did you just up and ignore me?” They nervously look at one another before Calum steps forward.

“We- uh got busy?”

“If you wanted to still be my friend you would’ve made an effort” I state, crossing my arms across my chest.

“We do it’s just that-” Luke begins but I cut him off, anger starting to run in my veins,

“What happened to ‘remain friends no matter what’”?

“You don’t understand, our life is so crazy now! We still consider you a friend, not best friend but, friends. Why are you still upset about this? It’s not like we completely abandoned you” Michael says from his position in a chair.

“ You couldn’t say ‘hey thanks!’ when I congratulated you?”

“Yeah bu-” Ashton tries but I cut him off.

“You could’ve tried.. But you ALL decided I wasn’t worth the effort!” I take a few slow breaths to try and keep calm “I tried to keep this friendship when you guys left but, not much I can do when you won’t even try”

“We still want a friendship. It’s just gonna be a little different now” Ashton says, taking timid steps towards me.

“No. If you wanted a friendship you would’ve kept up with it. None of you even reached out when my parents went through a horrible divorce. I really needed my best friends support but I got nothing.”

“We didn’t know your parents divorced Ed” Michael explains, all four of them clearly looking distressed.

“Stop. Stop right now. Our parents all still talk so you would’ve been told about it but sure, let’s play dumb. Also, that nickname is reserved for close friends and none of you are that.”

“ Alright,let’s all calm down and think about this rationally.” Ashton says, trying to mediate the best he can.

“I’ve already said everything that I wanted.Goodbye” I quickly leave the bus, practically diving into the passenger seat.

“How did it go?” At the sound of her voice I immediately break down in tear, sobs shaking my whole body. “Oh honey no shh” She brings me into her side, rocking us slowly. “They didn’t deserve your friendship. You’re too kind and you need someone who will love you for yourself and not make you cry like this.”

“I’ll never trust them again”

AND THAT’S PART 1 HOLY SHIT I’M SO EXCITED. please let me know your thoughts but be nice cause I’m a small bean :3

#5sos #series bitchessss #yasss #calum hood #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #michael clifford #loml #ty for reading <3

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bigherosixfeels · 6 years

Note

How about a fic where the gang decide to play Cards Against Humanity?

Sounds fun!

Cards Against Humanity

Rating: K

Characters: Hiro Hamada, Fred, Gogo, Wasabi, Honey Lemon and Baymax

Word Count: 1,563

Summary: The nerd gang plays CAH

Friday nights, while not always available for downtime, was thenerd gangs’ attempted evening in having a game night. Villains had the tendencyof wreaking havoc on the city during these attempts from time to time, but theyweren’t going to stop trying all together. Between superhero duties and school,they all needed a casual, fun activity. When game night at Fred’s mansionwasn’t interrupted, it proved to be full of laughs.

Tonight, laughs were practically guaranteed to happenconsidering Fred chose Cards Against Humanity. The others nearly turned downplaying the game all together due to Hiro’s age, but they ultimately decided tosort through the cards that were too explicit. In addition to this, they alsoremoved cards that were either offensive or made them feel uncomfortable.Luckily, Fred had some blank cards, so they were all able to come up with theirown ideas as well.

“Sooo…are we ready to start playing?” Fred asked,smiling enthusiastically.

“Let’s see,” Wasabi stated as he looked at stacks ofcards that he organized. “The cards we tossed out are in the box. We havethese three stacks of white cards to draw from and the stack of black cardswill be in reaching distance for everyone here. All stacks have beenshuffled…yeah, I’d say we can start now.”

“I still don’t see why you took out some of thosecards,” Hiro grumbled. “It’s not like I don’t know what theymean.” Wasabi placed a hand on Hiro’s shoulder. “If we’re going to play the game,we’re going to do it right. Besides, those cards are alittle…suggestive.” A chill went down his spine at the mere thought ofhaving the read any of them out loud.

“And kinda disturbing,” Honey Lemon chimed in. “Ithink it’ll be more fun this way. Plus, we made up our own cards!”

Gogo grabbed a pile of white cards and began handing them out toeveryone. “Who’s gonna be card czar first?”

Fred’s hand immediately shot up in the air. “I will!”

No one picked up their cards until Gogo finished passing themout. Once she was done, they all smirked and laughed to themselves whilereading the cards they were given. Depending on what a black card said, theyalready had ideas of who would be receiving certain cards when the time came forthem to be the czar.

Although Baymax was with them, he tended to sit out when playinggames. It was difficult for him to hold cards or move a pawn without knockingother things over in the process. Nonetheless, his company was always welcomedand everyone else enjoyed him trying to understand how certain games worked.One thing that Baymax understood was that playing games with friends was a goodway to keep happy.

Now that the game could officially begin, Fred picked up thefirst black card. “What’s my secret power?” he read out loud. "Thisis the perfect question for me!”

The rest of the gang took some time to ponder what card would bethe best fit. One by one, each of them stacked their card of choice on top ofeach other. With all four cards ready, Fred eagerly picked them up.

“These are all great!” He exclaimed, already gettingideas in his head about having at least one become his actual secret power.“Frolicking, being rich, a bag of magic beans and hot cheese!”

Everyone couldn’t contain their laughter with their choices. Allof them were pretty good and oddly fit Fred. Of course, it was up to him todecide which one he’d want as a secret power most.

He hummed in thought as he looked at his options. “Theseall make incredible powers, but ultimately, I would love if hot cheese wasactually my real power. Could you imagine?!”

“Yes!” Hiro yelled. “That was my card!”

“Excellent choice!” Fred told him as he handed Hirothe black card.

Wasabi was up next to be the czar and read his card aloud. Everyoneelse had to play a white card that they felt would be the most fitting for thequestion, ‘Why can’t I sleep at night?’ This particular card feltsuitable considering how jumpy Wasabi could be. After a couple minutes oflooking through their cards and suppressing laughter with their final choices,Wasabi had all their picks.

“Alright, let’s see what we got here,” Wasabi mutteredto himself as he flipped through the cards. He scoffed upon reading them.“Ghosts, fear itself, a live studio audience…and a tiny horse.” “Come on, Wasabi. Those would keep anyone up at night,” Hiro statedbetween chuckling.

Wasabi playfully rolled his eyes. “Okay, I won’t deny that.All of these are perfectly capable of depriving me of sleep. That being said,I’m going to choose fear itself. It’s…unfortunately accurate at times.”

Before he could ask who played the card, Gogo already had herhand out to take custody of the black card. “That would be a point forme.” She smirked and blew a bubble with her gum.

While Wasabi gave her the card, Hiro drew next. He was alreadylaughing as he read the card. The gang wondered what was so funny, but theyunderstood why he got such a kick out of it. 'I’m sorry professor, but Icouldn’t complete my homework because of _____.’

Naturally, this was hilarious to them due to being collegestudents (with the exception of Fred). There had to be some decent choices whencoming up for something regarding this. Of course, they had to decide somethingthat they felt Hiro would be most likely to choose.

“Okay,” Hiro began, now having their card in hishands. “We have…the five hour long trip to Vegas, teaching a robot tolove, the pirate’s life and…watching a thirty-six hour marathon of CaptainFancy movies?” Hiro turned his attention to Fred after reading the lastone. “Did you make that one up?”

Fred shrugged “What? That’s a perfectly reasonableexplanation as to why you couldn’t finish your homework. Hey, you should tryusing that one on Granville!”

Hiro gave him a glare. “Yeah, I don’t think that will goover well with her,” he explained. “Uhh…I think I’ll have to gowith teaching a robot to love.”

Honey Lemon squealed hearing that. “Yay, that was my card!I picked it because of Baymax.” She smiled at the healthcare companion.

Baymax blinked. “I am a robot. I am incapableof…loving.”

The others all got a laugh out of that statement. Hiro lightlypatted at Baymax’s belly. “We know, buddy. It’s just that you’re designedto be huggable and that’s as loving as you can get.”

Baymax tilted his head in response. “Oh.”

With that, it was Gogo’s turn. When she picked up the next blackcard in the pile, she noticed that it was one of the made-up cards.“What’s the best way to celebrate after taking down a villain?” Sheread out loud.

“Cool, one of my cards,” Wasabi admitted.

The others seemed to choose their cards rather quickly thisround. Either they felt that their card was the perfect fit or they were tryingto get rid of something they wanted out of their hand. Yet, Gogo was happy thatthey had made their choices in a quick timespan.

“Team-bonding exercises, a zesty breakfast burrito, me timeand all-you-can-eat shrimp for $4.99. Hm…interesting picks,” she notedas she looked through her options. “I know how I celebrate. Whether we winor lose a fight, I always like to have me time afterwards. Who had metime?”

“That would be me,” Wasabi answered, happily takingthe black card. “I had a feeling you’d pick that.”

Finally, Honey Lemon was at her turn and she couldn’t wait tosee what everyone would come up with with her the czar. Especially since hercard said, 'What never fails to liven up the party?’ There was bound tobe good ideas with that.

The others took a little longer with their decision-making, butshe was thrilled to have their picks in hand once they found a decent card toplay.

“Aw, the first one is a gourmet restaurant just for dogs!That would be so cute!” She joyfully put that card aside. “Next wehave…funky fresh rhymes, a saxophone solo and…oh! Puppies!”

The gang was glad to see she liked the cards, but now she had atough decision to make. She was torn between two cards and they all had a hunchon which ones she was debating between.

“I love both of these…but I’m gonna go withpuppies.”

Upon this announcement, Fred pouted. “Aw, man! I wasted mygourmet restaurant for dogs card!”

“Oh, I loved the card, Freddie,” she assured.“But you really can’t beat a card that just says puppies on it.”

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to resist thatcard,” Gogo confessed. “Which is exactly why I chose it foryou.”

The remainder of the game went as well as it had started.Everyone picked funny cards that either were extremely fitting for the questionor that the czar would be inclined to choose. Luckily, they weren’t interruptedby anything. No reports of a villain being on the loose. No disturbances fromanyone. It was a relaxing game night that was well deserved for the heroes ofSan Fransokyo.

This was really fun to write! I just wanted them to have some casual, uninterrupted fun. They deserve it from working so hard at school and as heroes. This request really took me back to a couple other fics I wrote a long time ago of them all playing games at Fred’s.

Thanks for the request! Hope you enjoyed it! :D

#fanfiction #hiro hamada #hiro #baymax #fred #gogo #wasabi #honey lemon #big hero 6: the series #bh6: the series #big hero 6 #bh6 #big hero 6 fanfiction #bh6 fanfiction #big hero 6 fanfic #bh6 fanfic #cards against humanity #anonymous

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pagesoflauren · 7 years

Text

A Thousand Years (vampire!Jack x reader AU) - Part 7

Part 6 Part 6.5 Masterlist

“Here’s your lunch,” Jack says, handing her a small tote bag with a tupperware, an apple and a juice box. “Have you packed your water bottle as well?” “Yes, mum,” Y/N chides, taking the bag from him and tying it to one of the straps on her backpack so that her hands could be free. Jack puts his hands on his hips, giving her an unamused glare. She giggles, getting on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’ll be back at 4:30?” he says, holding her waist and leaning down to kiss her cheek as well. “Yeah, around that time,” she says. “Okay. What time will George be around?”

As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

“Now, I guess,” she laughs, walking over to the door as she slings her backpack over her shoulder. She unlocks it and opens the door to find her friend eating a bagel, cream cheese smeared on his face. “Don’t you look handsome…” she mutters sarcastically. “T’ank you,” he says with his full mouth. Jack comes to the door, avoiding the rectangle of sunlight that comes through the opening. “Oh,” George says, stepping in and allowing Y/N to close the door. “Hey, mate,” he says, reaching his hand out to shake Jack’s. “Morning,” Jack greets, giving him a firm handshake. “Y/N, do you mind if I finish this really quick?” “No, take your time.”

They chatted casually while George finished his breakfast. Jack learned that Y/N and George met during their first year of uni when they were in the same dorm. George moved out of the dormitories after the first year because it was too expensive and has been living in a co-op with some other lads that were still in uni and went to the same school or a different school and others that were working full time. “How many people live in your house?” “It’s a three bedroom house with five guys in it.” Jack wrinkles his nose at the idea. He had trouble living with Socks for a couple years and is still adjusting to living with Y/N; he can’t imagine what it’s like to live with four other people. “It’s not as bad as you think. Though we do have to call some of our girl friends to help with washing or something because we’re so clueless.My first week there I had to call Y/N to talk me through doing a load of laundry.” “Ah, yeah. She had to teach me how to use a Mac the other day.” “Oh, nice!” George says, taking another bite of his bagel and chewing it very casually, “How’s that going?” “Oh, I have no idea how to do anything still. I might just stick with the TV and cooking for now, have her deal with all that.” “Doesn’t sound like a bad combination. How’s cooking, you like it?” “I do, until I have to use garlic or onions.” “Mmm,” George hums, understanding as he stuffs the last bit of his bagel into his mouth. He chews quickly and Jack turns to find Y/N on the couch on her phone. “Y/N, love,” Jack calls, grabbing her attention, “Time for you to go.” “Okay,” she says, getting up and putting her backpack back on and stuffing her phone into her pocket. She hurries over to him, hopping on her toes to give him another kiss. “Have a good day, my love,” he whispers. He turns to George, “Have a good day, mate.” “You too,” he smiles, shaking his hand.

Jack steps back when Y/N opens the door to prevent himself from getting exposed to the sunlight that comes through the door and waves to her when she calls out one last goodbye.

“I’m gonna make a phone call,” Y/N says once George starts the car. She dials the number and brings her phone to her ear, listening as the ringing tone chimes in her ear. “Is this about finding Jack’s friend?” “Yeah, I found their old address in Liechtenstein, so I’m hoping I can find their old landlord and they can give me some information.”

George nods as he lowers the volume on the radio.

“Hallo?” a woman says on the other line after a minute of ringing “Um, hallo…spre-sprechen sie Englisch?” Y/N asks, speaking what little German she retained from her childhood trip to Berlin. “Yes,” the woman replies, “How can I help you?”

She sounds like she’s been speaking English for a long time, and Y/N is relieved a bit. “Hi, my name’s Y/N. What’s yours?” “Lotta. Nice to meet you, Y/N.” “It’s nice to meet you too. Um, Lotta, I was wondering if you could possibly give me information about a former tenant of yours?” “How long ago were they a resident here?” “They left in 1995 and possibly moved in around 1993.” She hears drawers opening and closing and papers being spread across the desk. “What is their name?” “Thomas Morrison. T-H-O-M-A-S-M-O-R-R-I-S-O-N. And, um, Poppy Hollingberry. P-O-P-P-Y-H-O-L-L-I-N-G-B-E-R-R-Y.” “Okay…please give me one moment.”

Y/N waits anxiously as the woman is silent on the other end of the line. She hums and mumbles to herself and Y/N’s heart drops a little when she hears a quiet “No” on the other end. “Ms. Y/N?” Lotta speaks after a few minutes. They’re almost to campus now. “Yes, I’m here.” “Hi. We do have record of a Thomas Morrison. I assume his phone number changed when he moved since it says here it moved to another country, but there is a job description here; a barista.” “Do you know what coffeeshop it was?” Y/N asks, the hope is her voice extremely noticeable. “No, unfortunately there is no indication of which coffeeshop it was. There are a few within a one-mile radius of this building, so I think it’s likely to be one of those.” “Okay. Okay, thank you so much, Lotta. This was a huge help,” Y/N says appreciatively. “Of course. I hope you can get in touch with him. Have a good day and good luck!” “Thank you, you too!” Y/N hangs up as George pulls into the parking lot on campus. “Sorry we couldn’t listen to music.” “No, it’s alright. You found something, though?” “I did! Kind of. I have to do more research, but I think the ball is rolling.” “Good, I’m glad something came out of it.” “Thanks. I really wanna do this for him. And I really hope I can do it before his birthday.” “I’m sure you will. When’s his birthday?” “June.” “Did you do anything this year?” “No! Because I didn’t know, he never told me and I never asked, which actually confuses me because I feel like the first thing you ask when you meet someone is what their birthday is. But I just never did and we never celebrated because ‘he’s had 167 of them, he doesn’t need another.’” “Nah, fuck that! You gotta do something special on birthdays!” he says as he pulls into a parking spot. “Have you got bills for the pay station?” “Yeah,” she replies, unbuckling her seatbelt when George stopped the engine. She hops out of the car and pulls her backpack over her shoulders before fishing her wallet out. They walk to the pay station and she pays half before they begin walking to the science building. “Let’s get this year done!”

“There ya are mate, a big heaping of your favorite food, just the way you like it,” Jack says as he sets Socks’ food bowl down in front of him. He had spent the day cleaning and doing some laundry, killing some time with some more Jeremy Kyle. It wasn’t until 4:00 that Socks began asking for food again, so Jack obliged.

However, Socks doesn’t eagerly dig in, he just stares at the food bowl before looking back at Jack.

“What?” Socks’s tail swipes back and forth across the floor. “Why aren’t you eating?” Socks just stares at him through green eyes. “Mate, it’s your food, the same food you’ve eaten for the past two years since I got you, what’s wrong?”

Socks meows this time, getting up and walking away. Jack is confused when he follows him up the stairs. Socks is, again, sitting in front of Y/N’s office. The door is open this time but Y/N forgot to draw the curtains shut, so sunlight filters through the window there. Jack stays in the dark hallway as Socks gets up and goes in, meowing.

“She’s not in there, mate. She’s at school.”

Socks doesn’t give up, meowing and circling the room. Jack huffs in annoyance, arms crossing over his chest. Why won’t he just eat the damn food? He goes downstairs and sits in front of the TV. He looks over to the stairs when he hears Socks’ footsteps and watches as the feline looks around more before walking back to the food bowl.

He gets up and walks over to him. “Why aren’t you eating?” he asks again. Meow. Jack thinks for a bit, trying to understand Socks’ behavior of not eating and looking around the house. “Is it because Y/N didn’t make your food?” Silence. “Mate, it’s the same food, I make it just like she does. Same amount of dry food and wet food.” Silence. “It’s the same food you’ve been eating for years!” Silence. “Fine! Starve for all I care!” he says exasperated. He huffs as he stands as he and his cat engage in a staring contest. In the back of his mind, Jack is thinking Socks is doing this just to be difficult since Y/N isn’t there to witness his mischief. He looks at the clock on the microwave and sees that it’s 4:15. She could be home any minute.

“Please eat, she’ll be home soon, she might get mad at me for not feeding you.” Exactly, Jack imagines him saying. “You’re a little shit, you know that right?” I know. “Please eat,” he says, sitting on the floor, next to him. No. “Why not!?” Because. “It’s the SAME. DAMN. FOOD.” I don’t care. “SOCKS LOWDEN YOU EAT THIS FOOD RIGHT NOW.” Since when was my last name Lowden? “I’m your owner, you have my last name and you will listen to me!” Make me. “Please, please just eat,” Jack says, lying on the floor. The door unlocks and opens and Y/N walks into the kitchen. “What is happening?” “Socks won’t eat and I’m trying to get him to-“ “What are you talking about, he’s almost done.” “WHAT.” Jack scrambles up to look and lo and behold, his cat is digging into his food bowl, his tail straight up and ears perked. Y/N gives Jack a skeptical look. “Your age is showing, honey,” she says, stroking his cheek, “You’re losing it.” “No, no! We had an argument, he wasn’t listening to me, I put the food in fifteen minutes ago-“ “Shhh, stop grousing, it’s okay. This happens when people age, they see things that aren’t actually there.” Jack harrumphs to himself, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling. Y/N giggles as she turns to put her tupperware in the sink. “Lunch was really good, by the way. Thank you.” He doesn’t reply, eyes concentrated onto the floor and Y/N presses a kiss his cheek. “Stop frowning, baby. I like your dimples too much.” He feels a smile through his features, the muscles in his torso relaxing and his hands reaching to hold her to him “Can’t stay too long,” she says, cuddling into his side as his arms wrap around her, over her backpack and around to the other side to rest on her arm, “I’ve got homework.” “Already?” “This is normal, Jack. I’ve got a few chapters to read and outline.” He huffs into her hair and she pulls away, “I’ll be down in a couple hours for dinner, don’t worry.” “Okay.” He watches her go up the stairs with her backpack and hears her office door shut.

Y/N pauses her music after a couple hours of studying, feeling her stomach rumble. She goes to the bedroom to change, pulling on one of her dad’s old concert shirts and sleeping shorts. She grabs a bobby pin and tucks it into her hair so that it doesn’t fall into her face while she’s eating. She hears “My Girl” by the Temptations playing from a speaker downstairs.

“I guess you say, what can make me feel this way? My girl.” She laughs to herself when she hears an extra voice, the one that belongs to her boyfriend, singing along. She stands in the doorway of the kitchen, taking out her phone and opening Snapchat to take a video as the last refrain of the song plays. “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day with my girl,” Jack sings and dances around with an apron tied around his waist, using the wooden spoon in his hand as a mock microphone as a pot simmers on the stove. “I’ve even got the month of May—AH!” He jumps when he sees her in the doorway and quickly hides the spoon behind his back. She giggles as she sends the video to some of her friends. “Darling,” he says bashfully and Y/N is sure his cheeks would be turning red if he were human, “You’re early, I’m not quite done yet.” “Did you get distracted getting your boogie on?” “No! I was just, you know, sampling the pasta sauce.” “Mhmm,” she hums, “what’re you making?” “There’s this thing called one-pot pastas, have you heard of them?” “Oh yeah, it’s pretty cool.” “Yeah! You’ve got food for the week now and I only have to wash one pot!”

She laughs again at his excitement over this concept of making pasta in one pot that yields a huge serving. He’s still raving about it as he makes her plate and Y/N just stands there. She stands there and smiles, loving that she’s able to see him get excited over something so simple. She wants to keep showing him things, whatever new inventions and innovations have come out since he fell off the grid. She wants him to be this happy and excited all the time. “…and dinner is served!” he turns to hand her the plate and sees that she’s looking at him. “What?” “Nothing,” she says, shaking her head. She walks to him and cups his face, looking into his eyes. They’re mild and soft, blue like the ocean before a storm. “I love you,” she whispers. He laughs a bit to himself, as if he finds it amusing that she’s telling him this now, “Because I cook for you?” “No, because you’re perfect.” “I’m far from it, love.” “No way.” “I am,” he states, setting her plate on the counter and turning away from her, “Before I met you, I…” “What?”

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, forcing his lungs to take in as much air to its full capacity. “Jack, you’re scaring me,” she says quietly. She’s not stupid; she’s completely aware of what he’s capable of. Knowing that he might be telling her of some atrocity he participated in or committed frightens her. How could he hide that under his sweet face so well? Had he fooled her for the past eleven months? “I changed a human. And I’ve killed a lot of them too.” “Jack, you’ve told me, you only kill the other that hurt others-“ “I took a woman’s life and watched her become what I am,” he interrupts, emotions bursting forward. He never planned on telling her, he never planned on speaking of that woman again. “And I watched her become this angry, vengeful person that was so angry at me that she killed every living thing in her sight. Carol Grey, have you heard of her?”

Y/N’s quiet as she recollects the memories from her first year of psychology. Carol Grey was the classic example of someone who killed for sport out of anger. She was a notorious 1970s serial killer, acting quickly to kill almost thirty people within a three-week time period. Y/N begins connecting dots: Carol killed to spite a lover—Jack—and was found and killed by the Vampire Police Department of London. Peace was restored, but she’s mostly the reason why humans don’t interact with vampires much. “How could you keep this from me for so long?” she asks. “What was I supposed to say? ‘I’m the reason Carol Grey became a serial killer’?” “It couldn’t have been all you.” “She blamed me. I tried to stop her and she said ‘You made me this way. You’ve done this to me. I can’t kill you but I can kill others.’ Why do you think I tried ending it after we had dinner together for the first time? I couldn’t have you wanting me to change you then turn around and start killing people.” “It’s not your fault. You bit her, but you didn’t make her kill all those people. That was a choice she made on her own and she used you as a scapegoat. She was probably mad at herself for asking you to do it and that’s how she hashed it out.”

He doesn’t say anything, and Y/N thinks this is the most vulnerable she’s seen him since he was afraid to meet her parents. She holds her hand out. “Jack.” He looks at her open hand, but looks away. “Jack, take my hand. Please.”

He sniffles, appearing to reluctantly take her hand, but she feels his tight grip. He’s holding on with everything he has. She pulls him toward her and wraps her arms around him so that he can rest his head in the crook of her neck.

“What you did and what she did are completely different. I understand why you think it’s your fault, but you need to know that it was a choice she made. You were doing what you thought was right and that’s what happened. It doesn’t make you a bad guy, it doesn’t make you an accomplice,” she whispers, pushing his shoulders gently so that she can look into his eyes, “and it doesn’t make me love you any less. And it doesn’t make you any less perfect to me.”

Jack knows what it’s like to have a crush on someone. But now, he knows what it feels like to look into a person’s eyes and feel their love for him. The stray movement of her finger tips on the back of his neck and on his shoulder spread a feeling of calm over him. The reassuring look in her eyes helps him understand that she doesn’t hold his past against him and he realizes he shouldn’t hold it against himself. He had been angry and upset for so long, almost shutting Y/N out only to let her in when she told him she didn’t want to be like him. He knows what it’s like to forgive himself after forty years of being single.

When he saw Thomas and Poppy together, he told himself that it was very possible he’d be their third wheel for all eternity, their single friend that just never settles down, because he couldn’t let what happened with Carol repeat. Y/N almost forced her way into his life, returning his jacket when she didn’t need to, pulling him into their first kiss, bringing him up to date with the times and showing him that life can be fun. He can’t help but feel so lucky that she came into the pub that night. He’s so lucky that she loves him, which is something he never thought he’d have.

“Sit with me while I eat?” she asks. “Yes,” he says.

They sit at the dining table together, chatting as Y/N eats. Their chairs are close together and Jack’s hand rests on her knee. As he watches her laugh at a joke he made, he realizes that to the dinner table or to the North Pole, he’d follow her anywhere.

lil sneak peek into Jack’s life before Y/N 👀

ALSO HI FROM DISNEYLAND!!! I’m here all day today so peep those picture I’ll be posting!

Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans and to all of my followers and readers, I AM SO THANKFUL FOR ALL OF YOU!!! ❤️❤️❤️

tagging: @albionscastle

#Jack Lowden #Jack Lowden AU

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cellochicita · 7 years

Text

SO MANY QUESTIONS POSTS

OK SO I GOT TAGGED BY @bananabrianna77 @thiswebsitegavemethisusername @mtt-studios @zephyrus-gryphon @scolipendra91 AND @esmiden

SO NEEDLESS TO SAY I HAVE A LOT OF QUESTIONS TO GO THROUGH

putting it below bc it longgg

1. What’s your favorite inside joke?

This is fine

2. What’s the strangest/stupidest/most interesting way you’ve ever injured yourself?

Naruto running across the street, I tweaked my shoulder something awful

3. What’s your favorite color, and what do you find so appealing about that color?

Lilac purple *star eyes* I’ve always loved purple, it’s very feminine without being in your face, and mysterious, and lilac has the warm red undertones to it that make it feel like a hug. Plus I love the smell of the flower too

4. If you had a million dollars (or whatever currency you weird non-American peeps use) what WOULDN’T you spend it on?

Umm. I wouldn’t spend it on gambling

5. What do you usually eat for breakfast?

Whoo boy depends what I can grab as I run out the door. Toast, banana, etc.

6. Hey you now possess the ability to give people superpowers. I, your indecisive trash bag pal, just requested you give me a “random superpower”. What kinda power will you give me?

Hmm, I give you the power of flight bc flying rocks

7. If the roles were reversed, what kind of superpower would you request?

I wanna talk to animals dangit

8. What time is it for you right now?

11 am :)

9. What was the worst homework assignment you ever had to complete?

Oh gosh um, 20 page paper written in one day? That sucked major butt

10. What’s your worst pet peeve?

When people cannot stop to question their own actions.

11. Not a question, but write a short (3-5 line) poem/rap about the closest thing to your left.

Left of me there is

A wall covered in carpet

Why is that a thing

1) COKE OR PEPSI???

COKE YOU HEATHEN

2) Favourite food?

Hnngg all of them? Rice bowls.

3) If you had to choose one song to listen to over and over for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Oh geez. Um. I could listen to orchestral covers of Asgore’s theme for hours

4) Favourite singer/band?

Owl City, Imagine Dragons, Bastille, Taylor Swift

5) Favourite subject to study in school?

History or music

6) Your favourite thing about the internet?

Heck I love the freedom it gave to me to create music and voicework. I’ve had good experiences networking too :)

7) Have you remembered to do what you need to today?

Ummm I suppose I just did. But I still don’t wanna do it, sooooo

8) What time do you usually wake up if you get to choose?

If I choose? 8 am. Out of bed by 9 (I have to catch up on notifs)

9) Favourite YouTuber?

The entire Internet Remix crew

10) Can you list 5 tumblr blogs you think I should follow right now?

@fishmum, @rileygoldsmith, @kanaking, @asgoriel-stuff, @stariousfalls

11) Who is the most underrated celebrity, in your opinion?

ALL THOSE PEOPLE WHO SAID ME SHUT THE HECK YOUR MOUTHS

Piano Guys probably, they are great dudes

12) Favourite snack?

Cheese sticks

13) Can you describe your ideal day?

The day I can finally get caught up on all of my recording, then I go and hang out with family and friends

14) Your best tumblr friend?

Riley is bae @rileygoldsmith

15) Can you say the first thing that comes to your head NOW?

Can’t wait until my bf gets home so I can smooch his face

16) Favourite music genre?

Oof. I have eclectic tastes. Alternative I suppose? Not sure. If it sounds good, I like

17) Favourite video game? (If you don’t play, favourite Let’s Play series?)

Probably Undertale duh

18) The worst time someone has betrayed you?

Ex best friend, junior year of HS. But haha jokes on her, I’m dating her ex

19) Could you describe yourself in five words?

Keep enduring to the end

20) Favourite type of weather?

Fall weatherrrrrr

21) Could you describe your favourite place, without using the name?

Absolute peace

22) Favourite inspirational quote?

“Even when you think it's time to give up, don't. Take care of you and find yourself again if you need to” - Moony

1. What makes you feel at home?

My mom usually XD

2. Favorite soup?

Turkey and wild rice soup P:

3. Sunny or rainy?

Rainy dayssss ftw

4. Other than your family, who is one person who has shaped you?

My best friend

5. What patterns do you like on clothing that you don’t wear yourself (floral, striped, etc.)?

I wish I could pull off stripes mixed with florals

6. Quick, first word/phrase you think of!

I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts

7. One trait you envy about others?

The ability to not overthink things

8. What was the first online fandom you joined?

Online fandoms? Hmm, probably doctor who

9. Favorite song from the 20th century?

“The way you look tonight” Frank Sinatra

10. Which class did/do you do best in at school?

The easy ones. I got good grades in history tho

11. Would you smooch a ghost?

HECK YAS

1. Waffles, Pancakes, or french toast?

Waffles but on other days pancakes

2. Do you think spiders can be adorable?

So long as they’re not up in my space

3. Best gaming experience you have had?

Solstice ending of Oneshot. It was really the first time I played a game blind, and the ending is masterful

4. Happy song that makes you sad?

You are my sunshine BC OF THOSE DANG UNDERTALE COMICS DANGIT

5. Favorite adult cartoon?

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (I KNOW IT’S ANIME SHUSH)

2. Most adrenaline pumping thing you have done?

Bungee jumping was intense

7. Do you believe there is darkness within anyone, can anyone once good be evil?

I do believe, but I also believe the opposite. We all have dark and light in us, it all depends on what we choose

8. Favorite anime OST song, not counting openings or endings?

I dunno haha I do love the whole soundtrack to FMA Brotherhood? Not familiar with all the OST

9. Hade you dramatically lied to someone?

I have before

10. Did you notice I repeated 2 twice the first time you read this?

I JUST DID ACTUALLY I WAS GONNA FIX IT BC I THOUGHT MY COMPUTER MESSED UP XD

11. How was your day?

So far, pretty decent : )

1. How are you doing?

Pretty good thanks!

2. What leaves the worst taste in your mouth?

Figuratively or literally? Literally Orange juice after toothpaste. Figuratively, when I have to let stupid people alone to their ways

3. What is the strangest thing you’ve Googled?

Ghandi Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

4. What’s the funniest thing you’ve witnessed in public?

Me doing a perfect double take at a guy pretending to be a mannequin in a store window

5. You are given the ability to solve one unsolved mystery. Which one do you choose?

Amelia Earhart. Where she at man

6. If you could write a letter to your past self, what would you tell them?

Dude, you won’t be lonely forever. It gets so much better

7. Which video game have you played through the most?

Undertale

8. If you could instantly learn a skill, which one would you choose?

DRAWING DANGIT I WANNA BE GOOD

9. What is a song you can never get tired of?

State of Grace, Taylor Swift

10. What is your favorite combination of food?

Breakfast for dinner!

11. What is the pettiest thing you’ve ever done?

Ghosted my friend bc she wouldn’t talk to me

1. Favorite literature or movie genre

Quirky fantasy

2. Top five animated cartoons

Phineas and Ferb, Gravity Falls, Avatar the Last Airbender, Steven Universe, Over the Garden Wall

3. If you could choose a fantasy land to stay in for the rest of your life, which one would you chose? Ps. You won’t be able to get back to the real world.

Hogwarts. Gimme. Now.

4. Favorite song at the moment?

Gorgeous, Taylor Swift

5. What is good design for you?

Something simple and clean, but warm and inviting

6. What’s your favorite color scheme/combination?

Lilac, lavender, mint and silver

7. Which feelings effects you the most in litterature/music/film etc.?

I am such a sucker for sister to sister relationships, make me teary every time

8. Favorite game?

Undertale (same as above)

9. What’s most important for you in a good movie?

I need to have fun! And I need it to not drag on

10. What’s your favorite time of the day and why?

Sunset

11. Extra because I’m out of ideas, if you got a painting. What would you want on it? XD

Cats!

AND I’M NOT GONNA TAG ANYONE ELSE BC I AM SO TIRED

7 notes · View notes

tastesoftamriel · 7 years

Text

The tip of Morrowind (a long tale by Talviel)

Middas, 20th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 207. I was in Dragonstar, Hammerfell, after spending months in Elsweyr, and was researching recipes. I had also just celebrated my 24th birthday quietly. Well, almost quietly. On the 17th itself, a courier came bounding into the inn I was staying at, and dumped half a satchel of letters in front of me while I was in the middle of grating zucchini in the kitchen. “I’ve been looking for you. Got something I’m supposed to deliver, your hands only. Got lots of messages for you!” He announced cheerily. “I’ll leave you to your zucchini. Well that’s it, got to go!” I stared at the pile of letters that I only ever got in this quantity once a year, then ignored them in favour of the zucchini. The letters could wait- zucchini balls with tzatziki could not.

When I’d finally finished cooking, eating, and helping the innkeep clean up, I took the armful of letters to my room to peruse. Most were from friends and acquaintances I had made in Cyrodiil, wishing me a happy birthday and a prosperous year. A smaller pile came from across Skyrim, and I found one from my Dunmer friend Lisandre. I set it aside, looking expectantly at the last few letters from Riften. There were three. One was from my parents, another from Keerava, and the last one was from Brynjolf. While we’d written to each other over the years I’d been on the road, our messages became shorter, less cordial, and more sporadic. He mainly talked about how breaking Nocturnal’s curse had made the Guild flourish again and how they were beginning to branch out across Tamriel. I broke the seal of his letter, expecting more of that. The familiar smell of cinnamon and cloves greeted me as I unfolded the parchment.

“Lass, happy birthday. I don’t know where in Tamriel you are, but I trust that the courier will get this to you safely. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to see you off on your last visit, but I enjoyed the time we did spend together. The Guild sends their best wishes, and we all miss you. Delvin and Vex are plotting the best way to get you to come back to us, but I know your heart is set on your career, and as I’ve always said, I’m happy for you, lass. Hope you can come back and visit us poor folk in Riften again soon, liven up the place a bit. Eyes open, and walk with the shadows. Yours, Brynjolf.”

I smiled sadly, my heart racing. Unrequited love was more of a pain than a mountain lion on skooma. I tucked his letter into the envelope I used to store all of his previous ones, that I always read whenever I missed him. Sniffling and wiping at my eyes, I turned my attention at last to Lisandre’s letter.

“Greetings, Talviel! Word on the street is that it’s your birthday, so happy birthday and big hugs from Gat and I (even though you’ve never met him)! Anyway, just writing because I’m a little bored. Back home now at Lakeview, which is nice and all but my hammer needs some blood. Feel bad about doing any adventuring around now because Gat could use the company, but I’ve been thinking of finally going to Morrowind after the new year. Slightly embarrassing, a Dunmer of my age never having been back to her own place of origin. Don’t know where you’ll be around then, but you’ve spent a lot of time there so I was hoping we could meet up. No pressure, let me know what you think. Anyway, wherever in Tamriel you are, happy birthday. Thinking of you and sending good thoughts your way. ~Lisandre”

I pondered Lisandre’s message. I was setting out the next day to Evermor, which was just across the border into High Rock, and I was planning on spending a month or so going through the region. I had also been offered good coin to cook a banquet at both Castle Wayrest the Sentinel Palace whenever I was there next, so I decided to take them up on the offer. It would take me another month to get to Windhelm, where the ship to Solstheim sailed from, so the timing would be perfect as I hadn’t been to Morrowind in some time. I wrote a letter to warn Wayrest and Sentinel ahead of time and to prepare the ingredients I’d need, then dipped my quill into my inkpot again to pen a message back to Lisandre.

“Hi Lis, thanks for the birthday greetings, and I hope you and Gat are well. Would love to take you over to Morrowind, but I’m only really familiar with Solstheim and Blacklight since the rest of the country is really just ash and small settlements since The Red Year and never really recovered from what I’ve heard, even despite the Great Restoration. I don’t think I’ll have time to explore the rest as I’ve made up my mind to head west early next year, so I probably won’t accompany you through the rest of the country. Once we’re done, I’m sure you’ll have found your feet enough to make the rest of the journey on your own! Let’s meet in Windhelm on the second week of Morning Star, and we catch the ship to Soltsheim from there. Let me know if this is agreeable to you or if you have any change in plans. Hugs, Talviel.”

I sealed the letter with wax and went to find a courier heading to Skyrim before checking on Roach and making sure my bags were packed for the morning. At first light, we trotted into Hammerfell to wait out the month. The time flew by as I cooked and learned and taught. The banquets went flawlessly and my coin pouch was close to splitting. I sketched the scenery, wandered the wilderness, and occasionally woke up naked next to someone. As Evening Star came to a close, I got on my horse and made the long trip to Windhelm. I contemplated stopping by Riften, but the thought of seeing Brynjolf again and knowing he didn’t love me made my heart break. I just couldn’t face him, as much as I wanted to.

I stayed at Candlehearth Hall, and was chatting to a Redguard at the bar when the door swung open, Lisandre tromping the snow off her boots and blowing her hands to shake off the cold. She looked through the crowd and waved excitedly when she saw me. “Hello love, give us a hug! How are you?” She called out, making her way towards me. “Hi Lisandre, long time no see! Can I get you a drink?” “Damn right you can. It’s freezing out there, I’ve always hated this city. One mulled wine please!” She called to the bartender, who brought over a steaming tankard. We toasted to friendship and talked about what we’d been doing in the past few months. As the evening wore on, she began to draw into herself, which was unusual. “Everything alright, Lis?” I asked, signalling for another cup of warm cider. “Well…not really. I should go to the Grey Quarter, see my family and whatnot. Tell them I’m going to the motherland, that should make their bitter asses happy. I don’t really want to go, but…I probably should.” I took a gulp of cider, nodding my head. “Do what you need to do. Just come back here if things don’t work out and you need a place to sleep. If not, the boat leaves at 7am sharp tomorrow so I’ll see you at the docks by 7.45 at latest.” Lisandre smiled wanly and slid her tankard across the bar. “Nah, should be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, kid. Have a good night with that Redguard woman, she’s making eyes at you.”

I snuck out of bed the next morning, the Redguard woman still fast asleep. Yawning while drinking from a bottle of potion of stamina, I made my way down to the docks and waited for Lisandre in the snow. She turned up just before seven, walking as if her satchel and warhammer weighed a tonne. “How’d last night go?” She grunted at me in reply then skulked onto the boat, sitting down and looking grumpy. “I’ll take that as ‘not so great’. I’ve brought us some breakfast.” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood and offering her some bread with cheese and salmon. “Lay off, Talviel. Really not in the mood right now.” She sighed, pulling her hood over her head and falling asleep. She slept all the way until we hit the port in Raven Rock, and she looked around groggily, rubbing her eyes. “Welcome to Solstheim, Lis.” I said, helping her to her feet as she yawned and stretched. Glover Mallory, the brother of Delvin in Riften, waved to me from the bellows as I walked past his forge. I promised I’d come by later to chat. I led her to my house, Severin Manor, which was dusty and cold. I made a mental note to hire a housekeeper, and showed Lisandre down to the spare bedroom, which I also used to store random armour, weapons, and knick knacks that might come in handy.

“If you’re still tired, have a little nap and we can explore the island later.” I said to Lisandre. “Are you kidding me? I saw a potion seller on the way here. Gonna get me a few of those stamina ones and we can start.” She removed her valuables and any unnecessary items from her person, hefted her hammer, and slapped her face to wake herself up. We made our way outside and she went to buy herself some potions and food while I caught up with Glover and got him to sharpen my sword. We met at the centre of the square, now busy with miners and a fair few more merchants than I’d previously seen, while she ate hungrily from a large kebab filled with ash yam falafel. “These fings are weally good!” She giggled between a mouthful of food, and I was relieved to see her in better spirits.

We left the town, meandering north along the coast. I pointed out the ruins of the monuments Miraak had left behind during our battle while I was taking a ‘break’ from chasing after Alduin. A few miles along, we spotted a group of hunters, shooting at a netch family. Lisandre gawped in wonder. “Are those…netches?” She asked, drawing her warhammer and clearly eager to join in the fight. “Yes, they are, but I wouldn’t recommend running in swinging that hammer. Those tentacles lash out fast with huge force, and send out a nice shock at the same time. Gonna shoot them with arrows like those hunters, and I’ll let you do the final honours with your hammer once they’re down.” I explained, stringing an arrow. We ran towards the netches as the hunters shot bravely, though one of their men was down. I whistled a call of greeting and they whistled back. I began shooting at the bull netch as they attacked the betty and calf, and I yelled for Lisandre to quickly finish them off when they splashed into the water. She nimbly leapt to action, smashing in the brains of the calf before jumping onto the back of the betty without missing a beat. Her acrobatics went unnoticed though, as the hunters had gathered around me as we made our final attack on the bull. As it groaned and fell into the water, Lisandre leapt up and smashed it several times over the head for good measure. The hunters clapped and whooped, and we all divided the netch jelly between us. “This stuff stinks.” Lis complained, jamming her share into an empty potion bottle.

Over the next four days, we made our gentle meandering way through the island, as I explained the lay of the land and my history with it. Lisandre was intrigued by Hermaeus Mora. I strongly opposed her, shaking my head. “Never, ever in my life do I want to have anything to do with that particular Daedric Prince ever again.” I shuddered, as we climbed our way north towards the Skaal village. Along the way, we plundered some Riekling camps and caves for the fun of it, happily pocketing our loot. Frea, the shaman and head of the Skaal happily accommodated us for a night, before we made our way to the giant mushroom lair of Neloth, the powerful and eccentric Telvanni mage. Before I went in to say hello and hoping that he was in a good enough mood to enchant some items for me, we stared with awe at the giant mushrooms. “That, Talviel, has got to be the weirdest thing I have ever seen.” Lisandre said, scratching her head. “Just wait til you see who’s inside, and you’ll probably change your mind.” I sighed, as we ascended the steps.

Several hours later, we found ourselves back at Raven Rock after being berated, belittled, and almost conned into being test subjects for another of Neloth’s new experimental spells (I had to drag Lisandre out through the lift portal before she could gleefully agree). We spent the night back at Severin Manor, and the next day we were ready to face Blacklight. The boat trip over took only half an hour, and Lisandre fiddled nervously with her scarf. “So, the city of my people, at last. I wish I could have seen Vvardenfell before the Red Year, behold the glory of the Dunmer before we were literally reduced to ash.” “As far as I know, time-turning spells have all ended in disaster, so this is what we’ve got now. Don’t look so glum, you’re finally on the way to the capital of Morrowind!” I punched her arm gently. We stepped off the boat, shouldering our satchels, and made our way into the city. The towering Rootspire, the seat of the Grand Council, dominated Blacklight from its centre. Dome-shaped houses like those in Raven Rock were dotted around in neat clusters. The Redoran Guard patrolled the city, which was by all means one of the most orderly places I’d ever been to in all of Tamriel, due to it having been put together as the seat of the Dunmer after the Red Year. I suggested we make our way to a cornerclub to settle in first, and Lis agreed.

We spent the rest of the day wandering the city. Commerce was good as the markets were bustling and shops of all kinds were open for business. “I’ve…I’ve never seen so many Dunmer anywhere in my entire life!” Lisandre exclaimed, looking giddy as we made our way through the busy central streets and past the Temple of Azura. “So, what do you think?” I asked. “Well…it’s a bit small. A lot smaller than I expected, really. But…this is what’s left of us, and so be it. I just hope those people in Rootspire know what they’re doing.” She said resolutely. “I know I’ll probably never see it in my lifetime, but maybe one day Vvardenfell will stand as tall and proud as it was.” “Your lifetime? You’re an elf, you’ll probably live to a thousand if you look after yourself. Morrowind will be back on its feet in no time in comparison. And for your sake, I really hope so. Anyway, now we’ve seen everything, let’s go get some sujamma.” I said, clapping her on the back. She grabbed my hand before I could turn back in the direction of the inn. “Talviel, I know I can just take Dunmeth Pass to get back to Windhelm, but…I’m not done. I know you’ve got work to do, but after tomorrow, we part ways. I know that Vvardenfell is still just ashes and settlements, but I want to see it with my own eyes. See where my people came from. Gnisis, Balmora, Mournhold.” “I get that. There’s always hope with what they’ve started in Vvardenfell probably, since they started on the Great Reconstruction, but I don’t know about the outlying parts of the region. Be careful.” I said, and we linked arms, strolling back to the cornerclub.

The next day, I woke up with a pounding head, and I knocked on Lisandre’s room door to see if she was up. “Come in!” She yelled. I stumbled into her room in my dressing robe, rubbing my eyes. She was sitting in bed, looking a little rough around the edges and sipping from a potion of restore stamina. She looked up at me blearily, before bursting out into an outrageous cackle. “What?” I asked, confused. “Oh by Vivec’s floating balls, I’m never going to pick a room next to yours ever again. Woman, you are loud!” Flashbacks of the night before came back to me, and I groaned. Something to do with a red-headed Dunmer and a lot of sujamma. Lisandre mimicked me, moaning. “Oh, yes, Daddy, Brynjolf, please, oh, fuck me, oh Brynjolf…” I covered my face, blushing so hard I thought I was going to burn the room down. “Nooo, Lisandre, stop, not funny!” “Are you kidding me? That was the best entertainment since I punched Rolff Stone-Fist in the face!” “Lis, I know he was an asshole but why on earth…never mind, it’s too early for this.” “Nope, not letting you off the hook. Brynjolf is definitely not a Dunmer name. The man you dragged into your room was definitely a Dunmer. When we first met, you said you didn’t have a beau. So, who’s the mystery Nord?” She grinned, passing me a stamina potion. I took a large swig and winced, beginning my long and embarrassing story. “Okay, so…”

#morrowind #dunmer #4e #skyrim #blacklight #vvardenfell #the elder scrolls #tes #tes blogging #fanfic #fanfiction #geek #nerd #games #gamer #gaming #chapter 10 #Solstheim #Raven rock

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everlarkbirthdaydrabbles · 7 years

Note

My birthday is April 28th. I don't maintain a blog on Tumblr though. I created an account just to follow the fabulous fellow Everlarkers here. If you can, I will take anything I can get but if possible, some smut please. *bambi eyes*

Happy birthday! Here is a little something special cooked up just for you by @katnissdoesnotfollowback. Have a wonderful day and enjoy the read!

Have Your Cake and Eat It Too

Happiest of birthdays toyou! I hope you enjoy what I’ve cooked up for you and it adds to to yourcelebration. Thanks to @peetabreadgirl for prereading this sucker.

TWENTY-FIVE

“I’m gonna be late. Please tell me you made somehot water for tea this morning,” Peeta says to his brother as he rushes intothe kitchen and tosses his bag on the counter.

“Gotta move faster, old man,” Ryen teases, butlowers his newspaper enough to point to the kettle sitting on a siliconetrivet.

“You’re two years older than me,” Peetagrumbles, not bothering to look at what he is sure is a self-satisfied smirk onhis brother’s face, choosing instead to focus on pouring the water into histravel mug and dropping in a tea bag to steep.

“Yes, but nothing good happens aftertwenty-five. They expect you to be an adult after twenty-five. For real,” Ryencomplains and Peeta curses as the hot liquid splashes over the edges onto hishand when he moves it a little too forcefully towards the spot where he leftthe lid.

“Graham would disagree,” he mutterssarcastically as he shakes the tea droplets off his hand and wipes the residueon a towel. His skin stings, but he doesn’t have time to deal with it.

“Graham is an idiot,” Ryen returns, but hedoesn’t say the rest of what they’re both thinking.

Their oldest brother is currently racked out ontheir couch, having crashed there and made himself at home a month ago when hiswife filed for divorce and their parents insisted that Peeta and Ryen needed to‘take care of their poor, stressed out brother in his time of need.’ Grahamhasn’t budged to find himself a new place since, choosing instead to revert tohis bachelor lifestyle and mooching off his two younger, single brothers.

But lately, in addition to the aggravation oftheir parents’ coddling of him, he’s been driving both Ryen and Peeta insane bydispensing what he calls ‘pearls of wisdom,’ which is basically theirbrother’s idea of life advice, but they both know it’s really Graham’s way offeeling better about himself…by making them feel inferior about their lives.For Ryen, it’s the promotion he didn’t get – and didn’t want because it meantmoving to another city. For Peeta, it’s the fact that for the past two years,he hasn’t had a steady girlfriend – and hasn’t wanted one since every datehe’s been on in that time has felt like a betrayal.

“Since he’s so deep in divorce attorney billsthat he apparently can’t even spare a twenty for a birthday present, he’sdetermined to get you laid tonight,” Ryen warns, making Peeta jump and bang theback of his head on the fridge. He winces and sighs when he sees that they’reout of milk. Slams the fridge shut to glare at his brother.

“His idea, not mine,” Ryen insists, holding hishands up in what’s meant to be an innocent gesture.

“You expect me to believe you didn’t have a handin that suggestion? Right. Well, tell him that I’m not interested,” Peeta saysand slings his bag over his shoulder, grabbing his tea and his blazer, andrushing out the front door, thumb entering a reminder into his phone to pick upmilk and a few other essentials they’ve run out of on his way home from work.He’ll have to stop by the school’s cafeteria to get some milk for his tea, andput himself even further behind schedule. His lunch break will simply need tobe sacrificed to finish grading papers for his afternoon classes.

“Tell him yourself, old man. And have a niceday, Dipshit!”

“You too, Asshole,” Peeta shouts over hisshoulder and then comes up short at the sight waiting for him out on theirdriveway. His best friend, leaning against his car door with a brown paper sackin her hands, her car parked out on the street. His lips automatically curve upin a smile that she returns.

“Happy Birthday, Peeta,” Katniss says as sheshoves herself off his car and steps aside so he can toss his things inside.

“It is now,” he replies, missing the slightflush that spreads across her cheeks while his head is in his car and hisattention on getting his tea into the cup holder without spilling more andburning himself again.

When he stands upright to focus on Katniss, shebrushes some lint off his shoulder and he tucks his hands in his pockets so hedoesn’t do something stupid like haul her against his chest and kiss hersenseless.

“Any big plans for tonight, birthday boy?” sheasks, oblivious to what her melodic voice and words do to him. Usually theywould’ve made plans by now, but they’ve both been so busy at work, they haven’thad a chance to talk about it in more than a general capacity.

“Avoiding my brothers’ schemes to spice up mylife,” he says and Katniss laughs. “Care to help me with that?”

“Sure,” she says and reaches out to straightenhis tie and ruffle his hair a little. He’s not sure what was wrong with itbefore, but Katniss seems satisfied with his appearance now, and that’s goodenough for him. “Netflix and dinner? I know it’s not exciting…”

“Sounds great,” he says with a smile, alreadyrelaxed at the idea of spending his birthday lounging on the couch with hisclosest friend.

“Since it is your birthday, I’ll cook.Johanna has a date tonight, though, so I suggest your place,” she admits with aquirk of her lips and Peeta has to smother a laugh.

The last time they hung out at her place,Katniss’ roommate had brought home a date and gave the pornography industry arun for its money in the erotic noises department. Katniss had been soembarrassed until Peeta suggested they head up the street to MidnightMilkshakes, an ice cream place that stays open until well into the early hoursof morning. They’d both been exhausted at work the next day, but it’d beenworth it to spend the time talking and laughing with her over a shared caramelapple milkshake.

“I’ll get rid of my obnoxious brothers. Sixo’clock alright?” he asks and Katniss nods, shoving the brown sack at hischest. “What’s this?”

“Breakfast,” she says and he smiles as he peeksinside to find one of his favorites from his family’s bakery, a savorycroissant wrapped around a slice of ham, some cheese, and eggs. When he looksup to thank her, her mouth bumps into his. He freezes. His heart thuds wildlyin his chest as she pulls back, too soon for his brain to register anything importantlike texture or taste or reality. Her cheeks flush bright red and she looksaway from him faster than the kiss lasted.

“Um, so, yeah. See you tonight, Peeta,” shemumbles as she practically sprints to her car.

He waits until she’s turned the corner before hedrops heavily into his driver seat. His brain makes no note of the drive towork, too occupied playing the moment over and over in his head, trying to makesense of why Katniss kissed him. Of what makes today so different from anyother day they’ve spent together, and desperately trying to not get his hopesup. She didn’t look too excited about kissing him, after all. She basically ranfor the hills as soon as it was over.

“Ah, fuck. Stupid, stupid stupid,” he mutters tohimself, thumping his head onto his steering wheel after he’s parked in theteacher’s lot and the truth punches him in the gut. She was aiming for hischeek. Of course she was aiming for his cheek. That would make sense,since she’s kissed him there before, but Peeta lifted his head at the wrongmoment and instead accidentally forced her to kiss him on the mouth. No wondershe was so embarrassed.

With a heavy sigh, he shoves himself from hiscar and grabs his things. Now he’s going to have to figure out how to apologizefor the faux pas of kissing his best friend in front of his house, withoutletting on that he’s madly in love with her.

Happy Birthday, indeed.

**************************

TWENTY-ONE

‘Just let these little leaves fall off yourbrush. All kinds of little things happy. And go out sometime in the woods andstudy trees. Talk to trees. Whatever it takes. The tree needs to be your friendif you’re going to paint him.’

“Hey,” a smoky female voice says in his rightear, making him jump and tug out the earbud from his left. “As much as I enjoywatching you paint along with Bob Ross, you might want to pay attention. She’sabout to tell us what’s gonna be on the test on Friday.”

Peeta doesn’t turn around because Professor Coinis inspecting the rows of students, steely eyes looking out for anyone notpaying attention or talking. He ducks his head, pauses his video, and switcheswindows on his laptop before typing madly for a second or two. When Coin turnsher back on the class again, he angles his head enough to mutter over hisshoulder at his thoughtful neighbor. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Paint me the cabin by the lake nextlecture and we’ll call it even,” she says and he can hear the jaded smile inher voice. He wonders what she looks like, but Coin’s throwing rapid fireterminology and concepts at them to review so he remains facing forward.

He hates this class, and he rarely ever hateshis classes, but economics is just so boring. There’s no life to it andhe took up painting in a drawing app in one window while Bob Ross’s sonorousvoice calmly talks about happy trees and other far less stressful things inanother window to get him through the hours of drudgery. Still, he didn’t wantto be called out as a slacker, so he was always careful to only use one earbudso half his brain could pretend to focus on the lecture.

As the list of material to be covered on thetest lengthens, he keeps stealing looks at the clock in the bottom right cornerof his screen, counting down the minutes until he can finally talk to the girlbehind him. His curiosity is piqued and he wonders if she’s been watching himpaint for the past two months. It should bother him, having someone look overhis shoulder like that, but if it’s gotten her through the dull lectures too,he can’t be sorry about it.

He wracks his memory for an image of her, but healways gets to this class a little early since that’s the way the bus schedulesworked out, comes in through doors that enter the massive lecture hall from theupper level and walks down the stairs to his seat, and then doesn’t really lookbehind him during the class. He’s certain he’d remember if someone was sittingright behind him when he arrives, so she must get to this class after him.

Finally, Coin wraps things up and Peeta twistsaround in his seat to catch her before she leaves, she’s bent over her bookbag, stuffing her textbook and a binder into it, her dark hair in a braid, partiallyobscuring her face from him.

“Hey, thanks again,” he says, catching herattention as she sits up and looks at him with pewter gray eyes. A distantmemory sends bells ringing in his head, but he extends his hand to her anyways.“I’m Peeta.”

“Katniss,” she says, but makes no move to shakehis hand.

“Katniss Everdeen?” he asks and hopes his voiceisn’t as squeaky and stunned as it sounds in his head. Her eyes narrow a littleand he shakes his head, clearing the fog that seems to be obscuring his abilityto think. “We went to Panem Twelfth District Elementary together. I’m PeetaMellark? Dad owned the bakery?”

“Oh. Yeah,” she says, and he’s not convincedthat she remembers him. Why would she? She didn’t even know he was alive backthen, but he had the biggest crush on her until the mines closed when they wereeleven and her family had to move away because her father had found a jobacross the country.

“Okay, well, um, thanks. For the warning aboutthe test. Again,” he says and wipes his palm on his shirt for something to dowith his hand, which she still hasn’t touched.

He turns back around, a little humiliated andcloses his laptop before sliding it into his bag. Ten years later and he stillcan’t even manage a passable conversation with Katniss Everdeen. Pathetic. Sohe’s more than a little surprised when he stands with his things and she’sstill there, watching him.

“You used to bring in cupcakes for the wholeclass around the first day of spring every year,” she says, startling him thatshe’d remember that.

“Yeah. I did. March 20th. It’s um, my birthday,”he says and shrugs, because that also happens to be today. It’s always kind ofsucked anyways so he figures what harm can come of him telling his childhoodcrush what today is.

“Then Happy Birthday, Peeta,” she says with asmall smile that sends his pulse skittering for a second. “Any big plans forthe night?”

Wait. What? Isshe flirting with him?

He’s not sure what to make of this unexpecteddevelopment and takes a second to find his bearings in this unknown territory.“Nothing special. My brothers are taking me out for my first legal drink,because what the world really needs is one more obnoxiously drunk guy in abar.”

She laughs. She actually laughs at somethinghe’s said, the sound musical and beautiful. He’s heady with it and that surelyis the reason he keeps speaking like the idiot he is.

“You wouldn’t want to come celebrate with us,would you? You could bring a few friends with you, if you like.”

Katniss examines him for a moment, chewing onthe corner of her bottom lip in the most adorable way.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll have to see what myroommate has planned for the night,” she says, but she asks for the name of thebar just in case.

Despite his brothers’ encouragement later thatnight, he manages to nurse his drinks and keep his head. Should Katniss showup, he doesn’t want to be wasted. As the night wears on with no sign of her,though, Peeta mentally berates himself for getting his hopes up. Eventually, hisbrothers drink themselves deep enough that Peeta knows he needs to get themhome before they do something dumb, like get themselves arrested.

He approaches the door, with both brothershanging off his shoulders, and of course, that’s when she walks in with a groupof friends. For a moment, he watches her twirl the end of her braid around onefinger and scan the crowds. When she sees him, she drops her braid to wave, andhe shrugs, giving his brothers annoyed looks. She seems to understand, becauseher friends say something to her and instead of stopping to talk with him, sheheads straight for the bar with one last shy wave of her hand.

So much for that.

But on Friday, when they’re packing up aftertheir economics test, and he’s more confident than usual about how he did, sheleans over his shoulder to whisper a reminder in his ear that he owes her acabin by the lake. He smiles, still facing forward so she can’t see his goofyexpression, and makes sure to have the video queued up at the start of Monday’sclass.

************************

TWENTY-FIVE

It isn’t until his third period class is filingout the door on their way to their next class that he manages to fire off atext message to Katniss. Part of that is because he’s been debating about howto handle the accidental kiss. Eventually, he settles for acting like it didn’thappen, just to test the waters, see how she’s feeling, before he brings it up.

P: Thanks for the breakfast this morning. It wasdelicious.

K: Anytime. I figured you’d be running lateafter I kept you up last night with my venting.

P: Did talking it out help you sleep better atleast?

He feels a little guilty for waiting until nowto ask her how she slept last night after they spent hours on the phonediscussing a research grant she applied for and was having second thoughtsabout taking, since she’d be working for a colleague she’s butted heads withalready. It’d be good for her career, but Katniss is worried that the stresswon’t be worth the rewards. Here he’s been tied in knots over an accidentalkiss that he’s probably overanalyzing while she’s dealing with life alteringdecisions.

K: Sort of.

Peeta’s brow wrinkles at that. Usually she tellshim that his empathy when she unloads her problems on him and his calm voice asthey talk her through to a solution are exactly what she needed to help herrelax and lull her into peaceful slumber. He worries that maybe he wasn’t thefriend she needed last night, although he’s got no idea what he could’ve saidor done wrong. Since their friendship is the most important thing in the worldto him, he needs to be sure he didn’t give her a half-assed effort or saysomething bone-headed last night.

P: Am I losing my touch? ;-)

The first few students of his fourth periodclass wander into the room and he tucks his phone back into his pocket, even asit buzzes with a new message, to focus on greeting them. Katniss knows hisschedule; she’ll understand if he doesn’t respond for the next fifty minutes orso.

Pushing his rolled up sleeves a little furtherup his arms, he smiles at his class and gets back to work, shoving thoughts ofKatniss and worries about that not-a-real-kiss to the back of his mind. Itworks until his lunch break, when he takes a look at the text message she sentback to him.

K: Actually, it’s the opposite

What the hell does that mean?! He’s on the vergeof being a wreck for the rest of the day, and it’s a good thing he’s busybecause otherwise he’d fire something back, demanding an explanation. At theend of the day, he settles on something simple, deciding that this is aconversation to be had in person rather than over text where inflection andnonverbal cues can be lost or misinterpreted.

P: Are we still on for tonight?

K: See you at six

Relief and dread mingle in his middle as heleaves the school and heads for the grocery store with his short list. Reliefthat the last text from her sounded more like she’s acting like herself again,dread that they still haven’t even mentioned what happened this morning.

************************

TWENTY-TWO

Someone is pounding on his door, and all hereally wants to do is tell them to fuck off, but immediate guilt at theunkind thought sweeps through him and he opens the door.

“You’re taking me out for milkshakes, birthdayboy,” Katniss says, charging him and shoving him back in the apartment andtowards his room.

“Katniss, I–”

“No excuses. It’s your birthday, and while yourmother might be a complete bitch and an incompetent parent, I forbid you tomope.”

“It’s raining,” he says, tugging nervously onhis ratty t-shirt. She crosses her arms and scowls at him. With a sigh, heducks inside his bedroom and changes into jeans and a nice shirt. One with acollar and no holes in it, shoves his arms into the sleeves of his jacket andlifts one eyebrow at her, requesting her approval.

“Better,” she says with a perfunctory nod andopens the door before marching out like she’s royalty.

By the time they reach the new dessert parlor,Midnight Milkshakes, they’re both drenched and decide they want hot chocolateinstead. She gets marshmallows on hers while he asks for whipped cream andcinnamon. When they take their seats, she surprises him by sitting next to himin the booth instead of across from him.

He laughs lightly when she snuggles into hisside and drapes his arm around her, nearly making him spill his drink. She mustbe cold, but he’s not about to make her stop what she’s doing and rubs his handup and down her arm to work some warmth back into her.

“See?” she asks as he takes his first sip ofcocoa. “This is much better than a cruise in the Caribbean, right?”

There’s still a tiny part of him that’s angrywith his mother for taking a cruise over his birthday with her new husband, andhurt over his mother’s roll of the eyes and exasperated sigh when he brought itup. ‘You’re twenty-two, Peeta. You don’t need birthday parties anymore.’No, he doesn’t, but those cruises leave every few weeks. She could’ve picked adifferent date. Plus, he’d still like it if someone at least tried tomake the day special for him. Like Katniss is doing right now.

Sometimes, he still can’t believe the stroke ofluck that placed them at the same university, in the same economics class. Orthat led her to sit behind him the first day of class and find herself absorbedin his digital paintings. She’s his best friend and the one person he canalways count on, so he ignores the flip that his stomach does when she smilesup at him, moaning in delight at her cocoa. Again when they’re curled up on hiscouch beneath a blanket, Katniss in a pair of his borrowed sweats because theirclothes got further drenched in the rain on their way back here. And again whenshe yawns and rubs her cheek against his shirt.

“Keep talking, Peeta,” she urges him, her voicedrowsy with pending sleep. “Your voice is soothing.”

He’s not sure what he talks about, but when sheslips into slumber with a faint smile on her face, he wraps his arms around herand smiles himself, content with the way his birthday turned out. When he wakeswith Katniss still curled in his embrace, he sighs and decides the aches in hisneck and lower back from sleeping propped up on the couch like this are totallyworth it.

************************

TWENTY-FIVE

“So here’s the plan–”

“No,” Peeta cuts Graham off before his brothercan even get started. “Whatever crazy idea you’ve got in your head, expunge itright now.”

“Oh he’s using the AP English words. That’s howyou know you’re losing this fight, right, Graham?” Ryen laughs as he loosens histie and takes the milk from Peeta to put in the fridge and grabs three beers,passing one to each of his brothers.

“You got a better plan?” Graham asks as hetwists the cap off his beer and chucks it across the room into the trash can.

“Yeah,” Peeta says after taking a sip of his ownbeer. “You two get lost so I can actually have a pleasant birthday spent withmy best friend.”

“Oh christ,” Graham mutters and Ryen shakes hishead.

“What?” Peeta asks indignantly.

“You’re spending your twenty-fifth birthday withher?” Graham asks, sounding highly offended.

“Of course I am!”

“That’s a terrible decision,” Graham mutters andPeeta’s the one offended now.

“He’s right, Peeta,” Ryen says and they bothstare at him. “Well he is!”

“Thank you,” Graham says smugly.

“Don’t think so highly of yourself. I’m sayingthis for Peeta, not because I think your broke and almost divorced ass shouldever be listened to. Peeta, listen to me. Go fuck someone. Seriously. Maybethen you’ll get over this unrequited love you’ve been harboring for Katniss foryears.”

“Excuse me for wanting to spend my birthday withsomeone I actually like being around rather than some horny stranger you twodig up out of a misguided sense of taking care of me,” Peeta says and moves tofinish putting the groceries away. “And since it is my birthday, I suggest youtwo finish your drinks and get lost. She’ll be here any minute now.”

“Fine, fine, but only because it’s yourbirthday,” Ryen concedes, dragging a protesting Graham towards the living room.“Come on, ya bum, let’s go see if you’ve actually got decent bar hoppingclothes before we raid my closet.”

“Just pick up the living room before you go,will ya?” Peeta shouts after them.

“Just kiss her already, will ya?” Ryen returnsand Peeta’s cheeks burn with the humiliating reminder that he kind of alreadydid. And it was nothing like the first kiss he’s imagined a hundred thousandtimes.

Thankfully, though, his brother’s are busygetting ready to go by the time Katniss shows up with a bag of groceries in herhands and unable to humiliate him in front of her.

************************

TWENTY-THREE

He opens Skype ten minutes early, plugs in hislaptop and sets it to never sleep when plugged in. Just to be sure. Then hewalks away from his computer, certain that he won’t be hearing from her, eventhough she was very specific in her instructions. She’s got precious littleinternet time where she is, and he doesn’t want to miss it, but he’s trying notto get his hopes up. So far, he’s gotten Happy Birthday greetings and giftsfrom his brothers, but otherwise, twenty-three is indistinguishable fromtwenty-two. Peeta’s in the midst of preparing himself mentally to be let down whenhis laptop starts beeping and blooping with an incoming call.

The chair nearly slides out from under him inhis haste to sit down. He runs his hands through his hair and smiles beforepressing the green circle to answer. Immediate joy rushes through him when shesmiles at him.

“Happy Birthday, Peeta,” she says and his heartdoes somersaults, just so happy to hear her voice for the first time in months.

“Hey, beautiful,” he breathes out and sheblushes a little. He kicks himself for his blunder but keeps going in the hopesthat she won’t drag him on his birthday for it. “How’s the research going?”

She’s spent the past six months on a researchtrip for her masters degree in anthropology, somewhere in the AustralianOutback. Her passion is bringing to light the stories of people forgotten orerased from history around the world. While he couldn’t be more proud of herpursuit of her dreams or her success at securing the coveted grant that tookher to another country, he still misses her terribly.

“Great,” she says, and he takes the opening toask her a thousand questions he’s been saving for when they get to talk face toface. They’ve been restricted to e-mail and one very static filled call on asatellite phone due to the time difference and her rare access to the internetor postal services. After several minutes of conversation, she glances down ather wrist and shakes her head. “I’m almost out of time and we’ve barely talkedabout you!”

“Trust me, anything I have to say right now isfar less interesting. Grading papers, writing lesson plans, rereading ToKill a Mockingbird for the twelfth time.”

“You love that book,” she says with a lift ofher eyebrow.

“Maybe,” he shrugs.

“I got you something. I’m sorry I couldn’t getit there on time, but I want to carry it back myself. Not sure I trust ourpostal runners here with it.” She lifts a flat stone covered in colored dots –yellows, browns, reds, white, and even some greens – that form a sun shiningin a vibrant sky.

“Is that…?”

“It is. Ochre artwork,” she confirms.

“It’s beautiful, Katniss. I love it.”

“I thought you might,” she says as she sets itdown beside her and then gives him a grin. “But wait! There’s more!”

He laughs at her gameshow host imitation andnearly cries when she shows him the cover of a book, all about art techniquesof the aboriginal peoples of Australia. He has to scratch at the corner of hiseye to keep from crying. She’s over ten thousand miles away and still managedto find the perfect gift for him. Something that’s both her and him.

“I’m sorry it’s going to be late,” she murmurs,her face losing some of it’s happiness, probably because he’s a nitwit andnearly crying at her gift.

“No, don’t be. It’s perfect and I can’t wait tosee it in person because then you’ll be home, too,” he says, his voice soundinga little hoarse even to him. They manage a few more minutes before she has togo, but before she does, Katniss sings Happy Birthday to him, her voicesultry and soothing and perfect all at once. Perfectly wonderful and perfectlytormenting him.

When they hang up, he slowly shuts his laptopand then heads to bed early, needing to end his birthday on the best possiblenote.

************************

TWENTY-FIVE

“You sure you don’t want to join us,” Grahamasks as he and Ryen stand in the doorway that leads to the garage. “BringKatniss with you. She could be your wingman.”

Peeta grips tight to the edges of his temper.They probably don’t notice the way Katniss pinches her lips together in a scowland turns away to vigorously chop the vegetables for their dinner. It’s a suresign that she’s upset, and given what happened on his birthday last year, hewants this line of conversation to end quickly.

“There’s only so much that flying solo can accomplish,”Ryen joins in with a rude hand gesture and Peeta chucks the kitchen towel atthem to get them to leave. The rosy flush on the back of Katniss’ neck tellshim that she saw the gesture out of the corner of her eye, so now not only isshe upset over something, she’s also embarrassed. She never did like talkingabout physical intimacy.

“What’s that all about?” Katniss asks tightlyafter they’ve finally gone.

“Nothing important,” Peeta says and standsbeside her to help. She bumps her hip into his to try and move him away fromher, but he persists, snatching the vegetables and taking over the task ofchopping as she moves to slide the meat into the oven. “Graham’s decided thatsince he’s going to be a bachelor again, he’s dragging the rest of us intodebauchery right along with him.”

“They wanted to find you a one night stand foryour birthday?”

“Yeah,” he says and turns to ask a questionabout the food. He knows she’s curious but won’t like following that line ofquestioning. Talking about food distracts her, though. Within minutes, he’s gother smiling and laughing again, the discomfort of his brothers’ plans andcomments momentarily forgotten.

Once their dinner is ready, they take theirseats on the couch and Peeta scrolls through options until Katniss settles oncatching up on Outlander. For him, she insists. She’ll never admit thatthe love story intrigues her, especially the aspect of Claire’s torn loyaltiesbetween her husband and the man she’s clearly falling in love with.

************************

TWENTY-FOUR

“What the hell, Peeta?” she yells at him and hetries to shut his mouth, but can’t get over the shock at her unexpected fury.“You have a date tonight?!”

Her eyes ignite and he holds up his hands,unsure where exactly he went wrong. She’s been seeing some guy she works withat the university for the past four months and he didn’t think she’d care.They’ve gotten serious and it’s been slowly killing him to listen to her talk,to sound so happy in the arms of someone else. Hoping it would help him move onor forget, he asked Jackie, the red-haired girl at his book club, if she’d goon a date with him and didn’t tell her that the date was on his birthdaybecause he wants to forget and didn’t want to put that kind of pressure orexpectation or weirdness on a first date.

It’s his birthday, after all. Shouldn’the get to do what he wants?

Katniss sputters angrily when he vocalizes thatlast thought to her and throws something in his arms before she storms out ofthe house. He thinks about chasing after her, but he’s angry, too. Angry thatshe didn’t bother to make plans with him or mention anything about his birthdayuntil right this second. And yes, he’s to blame too, for neither asking herabout it nor bringing it up. But she’s been the one person the past four yearsto actually make his birthday special, and he had himself convinced that nowthat she’s got a boyfriend, she wouldn’t want to make a big deal out of Peeta’sbirthday anymore. Or maybe that she’d even forgotten. Her silence on the matterin the past few days only helped confirm that in his mind. He never dreamedshe’d be this upset over him having a date.

Fueled by anger and hurt, he leaves his place tomeet up with Jackie, but he’s distracted through dinner and lags in theconversation. Besides, his heart isn’t in it. He gave his heart to his bestfriend a long time ago, and is just pathetic enough to have never taken it back.

At the end of the date, he heads home andchanges into something to sleep in, although he’s probably not sleepingtonight. Not with thoughts of Katniss wreaking havoc on his mind. Finally, hesits on his bed with the thing she threw at him and carefully peels away thepaper, staring down at the butter soft cover before flipping it open andsighing. She put together a scrapbook of sorts. Pictures of them through theyears, a few of his sketches that disappeared and he’d wondered where they’dgone off to, ticket stubs that she’s saved, a few napkins with his doodles ortheir games of tic-tac-toe on them, pressed flowers from their hikes and otherassorted outdoor adventures. It’s perfect, beautiful.

With another deep sigh, he picks up his phoneand calls her, expecting her to ignore him, surprised when she answers with awavering voice.

“Hello?”

“Katniss, I’m sorry,” he says immediately. Shesniffles a little.

“I’m sorry, too, Peeta. You were right. It’syour birthday and you should get to do what you want. I just thought, well, Iguess I thought you’d want to do something with me.”

“I did. I do, Katniss. But you didn’t mention itonce. I assumed you had plans with Darius or something.”

“No. I should’ve said something to you soonerit’s just he… Well never mind what he said.”

“Okay, what did he say? You can’t drop a bomblike that and not tell me whether or not I need to go kick his ass for you,”Peeta says and Katniss laughs, because they both know that Peeta’s methods ofrevenge are far less direct but far more effective than a fist to the face, nomatter how much he’s wanted to punch any number of her sleazy ex-boyfriends inthe past.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “We broke up thismorning anyways.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Because it’s your birthday, Peeta, and I didn’twant to ruin it for you with my drama,” she says and he shakes his head,stunned that she hasn’t figured out yet that he would drop everything for her.In a heartbeat.

“I’ll be there in two minutes. Do you have stufffor hot chocolate?”

“Maybe? I don’t know?”

“Make it ten minutes then,” he says.

“Thank you, Peeta,” she whispers.

Fifteen minutes later, they’re curled up on hercouch, sipping hot chocolate and watching some dumb comedy that was queued upin her roommate’s Netflix. Katniss rests her head on his shoulder and he wrapshis arm around her, allowing her to get closer to him. He savors the momentswhen she laughs and he can both feel it and hear it, lets his hand skim up anddown her arm. Eventually, she starts to nod off and he carefully extricates hermostly empty mug from her grip before setting it on the end table.

“Stay with me tonight, Peeta,” she murmurs as hecarries her to her bedroom. She nuzzles her way further into his embrace. It’snot an unusual request of hers. They’ve shared a bed before. And even thoughthey didn’t do anything big to celebrate his birthday this year, there’snowhere else he’d rather spend it than right here with her.

“Always,” he whispers when they’re settledbeneath her covers and her body relaxes beside him as she slips away intoslumber.

************************

TWENTY-FIVE

“So maybe we should do the cake now,” Katnisssuggests as Peeta hands her a few more plain candles. “Why do you have so manyof these?”

“Leftovers from Ryen’s last seriousrelationship. Something about seduction by candlelight on Valentine’s Day.” Helaughs when Katniss drops them on the counter like they’re hot coals. Shegathers them back up as he shuts the cabinet and climbs down from the stepstool, pointing the way with the flashlight as they work their way around theliving room, setting up the candles and lighting them.

A chill works its way down Peeta’s spine as thethunder rolls and rumbles outside. The rain lashes the windows in a crescendoas the wind picks up, then gradually softens. A freak storm rolled throughbefore they were even twenty minutes into the episode they were watching andknocked out the power. He’s already checked on his brothers, who made it safelyto some hip bar Graham wanted to check out before the storm hit.

Once they’ve got enough light in the room, Peetaflops back down on the couch and Katniss resumes her spot from earlier, tuckedinto his side with one hand resting on his thigh. He shifts nervously,listening to the storm and wondering what they should talk about. This usuallyisn’t a problem for them, so he starts by asking about her day at work.

The candles cast a soft glow over the room asthey talk in soft tones, which would usually help him relax and make himdrowsy, but Katniss’ hand keeps drifting up and down his thigh. And it’s havinga disastrous effect on him. His jeans grow tighter by the second. For now,she’s oblivious, but he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable with how turnedon he’s getting by a little innocent cuddling and conversation.

When her hand travels a touch higher than herprevious passes over his leg, he shifts to keep her hand away from his groin.Katniss turns her head to look up at him. “Are you alright, Peeta?”

“Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She shrugs slightly and chews on her lip. Peetasighs, sensing that they’ve finally gotten to the point where they’ll need totalk about that awkward kiss.

“Katniss, about this morning,” he says,reminding himself of how irreplaceable her friendship is in his life. “It wasan accident. I didn’t know you were…anyways, I don’t want things to getawkward between us because I moved my face at the wrong time.”

“It’s fine, Peeta,” she says, sounding irritatedand looking away from him. He can’t even manage an apology for kissing herwithout offending her, how can he possibly expect to actually kiss her? And headmits that he’s been thinking about it. More than usual, at least.

“I’m just sorry you got stuck here with meinstead of having a passionate fling,” she mutters. “Not the best birthdayever, is it?”

He stares down at her, thinking she’s lost hermind. Katniss squirms a little under his scrutiny until he speaks. “Believe me,there’s no competition. There’s nowhere else and no one else I’d rather be withright now.”

He hopes his voice isn’t as husky and adoring asit sounds in his mind. She blinks slowly and for a second, he thinks she dropsher gaze to his mouth, but this is Katniss. His best friend. His best friendwho was annoyed ten seconds ago when he brought up their sort-of a kiss. Thenshe slowly licks her lips and he follows the path of her tongue as it retreatsback into her mouth before her teeth tug on the glistening surface he wants sobadly to taste.

“Who says you can’t have both?” she whispers.

His brain comes to a screeching halt, completewith clanging metal and shattering glass. Because if he didn’t know any better,he’d think that his best friend whom he’s been in love with for at least twoyears, probably longer, just suggested that they have sex. Tonight. On hisbirthday.

He searches her eyes for some sign that he heardher right. Her gray eyes remain focused on him, wide and uncertain. Her chestrises with quick breaths that puff through her parted lips. She leans towardshim and every few seconds, her body trembles.

“Peeta…if it hadn’t been an accident…wouldyou have…wanted to kiss me?”

He’s expecting a strategically placed clap ofthunder to announce his impending doom, because he has no idea how or why thisconversation has taken this turn. Slowly, so he doesn’t frighten her or disturbthe threads holding them together, he nods.

“Show me,” she whispers, and that’s when hestops thinking and acts on whatever the hell mood just struck the two of them,lifting his hand to cup her cheek. She smiles tremulously and leans into hispalm. He nearly shouts with joy and caresses his thumb over her lower lip,watches the plump flesh respond to his touch. Her eyes flutter shut and heswears he hears her sigh.

He lowers his head to hers, still expecting tobe rudely awakened and realize that he fell asleep on the couch and the pastfew minutes have been nothing more than another dream. More wishful thinking.Or for her to shove him away and yell at him that he completely misreadeverything.

But then she makes a noise of frustration, grabsa fistful of his shirt in her hand and tugs on it. His body and his mindfinally come to a consensus and he caresses his lips over hers. Once to hearthe sharp inhale of expectation. Another for the soft whine that tells him shereally does want him to kiss her. Then he tilts his head the smallest amount sohe doesn’t crush her nose when his lips join with hers and he wraps his armtighter around her, turns so that her chest smashes into his.

She doesn’t run or push him away. Doesn’t remindhim that they’re friends. Instead, Katniss winds her fingers through his hair,meeting each movement of his lips with one of her own. For a moment, he thinksto pinch himself, to make sure that this is real, but that would require him toremove a hand from her, something he’s not willing to do. His head spins withquestions and desires.

Eventually, Katniss moves to lay back on thecouch, dragging him down with her. They shift limbs and hands awkwardly, stillfused at the mouth. He tries to focus on one sense at a time, to memorize hertaste, the feel of her lips on his, the sounds she makes in the back of herthroat, the scent of her soap a familiar tether to reality as they kiss. Andkiss.

Without much space, his knee slips off the couchand he has to brace his foot on the floor, even as she lifts her legs to wraparound his waist, firmly pulling him down on top of her, fingers skimming overhis neck, scraping his scalp. She moans and opens her mouth beneath his, lettinghim feel the sound as it ripples across his tongue. He returns it as theircores align, the grip her legs have on him pulling him flush against her. Hecan’t help the quick thrust into her, can’t help but revel at the heat thatsurrounds them and the friction between them, can’t help the quick leap tothinking about what this would feel like if they were both naked.

She gasps and backs away from the kiss. Peetamentally berates himself.

Too fast. Much too fast.

“Sorry,” he mutters, trying to leave herembrace, but she clings to him.

“For what?” she breathes and he stares at her,lips swollen, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed. A thrill of arrogance runs throughhim, clouding his better intentions to slow things down. He did that. He madeKatniss look like this, ripe for loving.

“For…rushing things?” he asks uncertainly.

“I don’t feel rushed,” she admits, her fingerstoying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You don’t,” he whispers and she shakes herhead.

“Unless…unless you don’t want–”

“No,” he says in a rush. Her brows snap togetherin a scowl and he hurries to fix the damage his haste has created. “I want to.You have no idea how much or how long I’ve wanted this, Katniss. But that’sjust it. I don’t want to scare you.”

“Why do you think I’d be scared?” she asks,still scowling. He hears his brothers’ taunts in his head, calling him ‘oldman.’ He’s not old, not even close, but an image of him and Katniss in rockingchairs, gray and wrinkled with five feet of space and no words of love betweenthem hits him just then. Screw it. He’ll find a way to repair friendship laterif he’s wrong. He can’t take the chance that he might miss out on this becausehe’s afraid.

“Because I’m helplessly in love with you, Katniss.I have been for years,” he murmurs. She smiles. Astonishing and radiant. Hisheart thunders to life at the sight of that expression. Her hand slowly bringshis lips back down to hers.

“Then stop trying to run off when I’m trying tokiss you,” she says and he laughs lightly for a second before kissing heragain.

This time, he doesn’t hold back, taking the timeto kiss her deeply. To let his hand wander up and down her side, to slipbeneath her sweater and skim the smooth skin of her belly, up to her ribs anddown, ever so slowly working his way higher.

Shock jolts through him when his fingers brushthe underside of her breast and find no bra barring the way. Lust followsswiftly behind as he cups the perky mound in his hand and she arches into him,moaning desperately. Loud enough to muffle the thunder overhead. Her legs clamparound him and after that, he loses track of who touches where and when. He’slost in the need to feel every inch of her because it is better for him totouch and discover than lose his sanity in thoughts of wasted time.

He kisses her cheeks and eyelids, nibbles on herears and neck, moves his hips to the rhythm of her gasping moans and quietpleas of nothing but ‘yes’ and ‘Peeta.’ Her hands move to his jeans to unfastenhis belt and slip the button through its loop. The release of pressure when shelowers his zipper snaps him back to some semblance of thinking and he pullsback to halt her hands.

“Don’t you want…?”

“More than anything,” he whispers, kissing herlips swiftly before turning them on the couch so she’s reclining against theback and he’s kneeling before her on the floor. Because he’s still not surewhere this is going or how much she’ll allow him, and he refuses to waste his chanceto do the one thing that has driven his fantasies of her for years.

He frantically undoes her jeans, ignoring theclank of his own belt as it flaps freely. Gripping her jeans, he tugs them downher legs, urging her to lift her hips to help. When they’re off and discardedto the side, he glances back up at her, notes that her smile still flirts withher lips. As he reaches for her panties, though, he freezes with his hands inmidair at the image of her like this. Katniss shifts her legs impatiently. Orperhaps nervously.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, fingers tracing overthe sunset hued flowers on her panties. His favorite colors. He wonders if shewore these on purpose today or if it’s coincidence. When he looks up at herface, she’s holding her fists near her mouth, chewing lightly on her thumbnails. He wracks his brains for a way to get her to laugh, to relax again.

“For me?” he asks with a cheeky grin. “Youshouldn’t have.”

Then she laughs, a little breathless but it’sstill one of hers, and helps him slide the panties down her legs. He lifts oneleg by her ankle and drops soft kisses to the delicate skin. Up one centimeterat a time, stealing brief glances at her face to make sure she’s still withhim. When he reaches her knee, he drapes her leg over his shoulder and keepsgoing. Kisses. Soft bites. Slow licks. The higher he travels, the faster andlouder she breathes until he reaches his goal and she releases a singing sighof relief. Her hips undulate beneath his mouth, her hands curving over the backof the couch to anchor herself.

He’s drunk on her taste in seconds, lost in thehooded gaze she bestows on him when he looks up at her. With a teasing dip ofhis tongue, he moves to the side and down her other leg. Katniss whimpers androlls her hips towards him again and he holds back his chuckle, still stunnedthat she seems to want this as badly as him.

“I love the way you taste,” he whispers as henuzzles her thigh and kisses down to her knee before returning where she wantshim. “I love everything about you.”

When he makes it back, she lets loose a moanthat sounds more like a song to him. He makes it his life goal to get her tomake that noise endlessly until she comes on his tongue. One hand grips hishair, and she begs him not to stop as her nails scorch his scalp. He risks aglance up at her face, twisted in effort. Peeta shifts enough to slide firstone then a second finger between her lips, nearly coming right then at theincredible warmth that greets him, the gentle tug of her walls that tells himshe’s close.

Her body bows on the couch as she wails hisname. Then she snaps back and curls in on him, legs clamping down and holdinghim in place as she pulses against his fingers and tongue. It’s everything he’sdreamt of and more.

Katniss flops back on the couch when she’s done,panting and flushed with her release. Slowly, he pulls his fingers from her andplants one last kiss on her before sitting back as her legs fall away from him.Her eyes flutter open in time for her to watch him lick his fingers clean ofher. She shudders and then covers her mouth, but not before a giggle escapesher. And then another from behind her hands.

“What’re you thinking?” he asks, scared of theanswer.

“We should’ve done this sooner, birthday boy,”she says and his cock jumps at her sultry tone. Her eyes widen and she sits upon the couch. “You weren’t supposed to do that!”

“Do what?” Peeta’s heart sinks at her words, andhe stands up to put some distance between them. But her hands grasp at his jeansand pull him towards her instead.

“It’s your birthday, not mine,” she says,confusing him because she sounds annoyed with him, but at the same time, she’syanking his clothes down.

“I wanted to,” he insists. And then her lipswrap around him and his assertion that he’s wanted to eat her out like that foryears gets lost in his strangled curse.

He tangles his fingers in her hair and tries toslow her down, but time and months of celibacy and the taste of her still onhis tongue and years of fantasies work against him. It only takes a few hardsucks of her mouth before the sensation becomes too much. He manages to pullher off of him and cup his hand over himself just in time.

As soon as the euphoria passes, the shame takesits place. He grabs his clothes and tugs them up just enough, turns away fromher in embarrassment, mumbling an apology before retreating into his bathroomto clean himself up, taking one of the candles with him. He’s a little moreharsh with his body than he needs to be, humiliated that he blew his load likea fucking teenager the second she touched him.

“Peeta,” she calls to him through the door andknocks softly before opening it. He curses himself for not locking it andfocuses on tucking himself back in his shorts and washing his hands and face sohe doesn’t have to see her disappointment with him in her eyes.

Her hands slide beneath his shirt, startling himas she embraces him from behind. “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” he says, stunned by her question. He meetsher eyes in the mirror, peeking over his shoulder. “I’m mad at myself.”

“You shouldn’t be,” she whispers. “I likedmaking you lose control that fast. And I especially liked what you did to mebefore that.”

They stare at one another for a minute, andPeeta wonders how they proceed from here. The awful thought occurs to him thatshe meant this as a one night thing. After all, that’s what his brothers hadintended, and all of this started with her saying he could have both. Both hotsex with a one night stand and a night spent with his best friend.

But now that he knows what she tastes like, whathis name sounds like flying off her tongue when she’s in the middle of coming,he’s not willing to let that go.

“Katniss, I’m still helplessly in love with you.I want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you.”

“Well then come to bed, Peeta,” she whispers.She doesn’t let go of him as he lets his jeans fall to the floor and kicks theminto the corner. Even as he brushes his teeth, she keeps one hand on him whilebrushing her own with the toothbrush she keeps in his bathroom. She doesn’t letgo of him as they clean up their dinner mess, extinguish the candles, andeventually, she leads him to his own bed, crawling beneath the covers first andlooking back at him expectantly.

“We should maybe take things slow, yeah? So noone gets hurt,” he says quietly. She lifts one shoulder but doesn’t look awayfrom him.

“Okay. But we’ve shared a bed before, Peeta,”she reminds him. He laughs, although it sounds nervous or maybe hysterical tohis own ears. He runs a hand through his hair and then climbs into his bed.

As he settles beside her, she wriggles into hisarms and then cups his face in her hands before kissing him. The kiss soothesmany of his fears, but he knows they’ll still need to talk a little in themorning.

************************

TWENTY-FOUR

Bright May sunshine warms the earth, greetingthe newly bloomed flowers in the yard. Guests mingle and Peeta adds hiscarefully chosen present to the small stack before making his way over towardsthe grill where Katniss is engaged in a heated discussion with a tall,dark-haired guy he doesn’t recognize.

She looks up and smiles at Peeta, sending hisheart tripping over itself before she meets him halfway and throws her armsaround his neck.

“Happy Birthday, Katniss,” Peeta murmurs intoher neck.

“Cut the crap. What’d you bring me?” she asksand he laughs, but points out his gift on the picnic table. She hurries overand tears into it.

“Aren’t you supposed to wait until after we singto you?” he teases.

Katniss scowls at him, but the glint of mischiefin her eyes tells him that she’s not truly angry with him. She flips open thesmall box and he holds his breath, waiting for her reaction. Her hand tremblesas she runs a finger over the delicate silver locket with the bird engraved onit. Carefully pulling the necklace from its cushion, she holds it in her palmand opens it, gasping slightly when she sees the pictures.

Lately, she’s been missing her family more. Herparents and her sister. Peeta managed to get his hands on pictures of them, allsmiling and happiness, and tucked them into the locket to remind Katniss thatshe’s never alone. To remind her of the people who love her when she’s off onresearch trips or responsibility and distance conspire to keep her from herloved ones a little longer than she’d like.

“For when you miss them,” he says quietly,hoping he hasn’t stepped over the line. But she looks up at him with glisteningeyes and hands it to him before turning her back to him and lifting her hair.

“Help me put it on?” she asks.

“Of course,” he says and gently lays it acrossher throat. Once the necklace is clasped, he squeezes her shoulder and she letsher hair fall back into place.

“I love it, Peeta,” she says, turning to facehim again. She rests her hands on his shoulders and rises on her toes, pressinga kiss to his cheek. “It’s perfect.”

“Good, because I’m pretty sure they don’t takereturns,” he says to cover they way he’s flushing and trembling at the firstever brush of her lips on his skin. She laughs, but then Johanna shouts for herand Katniss leaves him with a sigh.

He wishes he could have more of her time, butthe gathered crowd demands much of her attention. When he does get a momentwith her, he points out that she’s clearly got droves of adoring friends. Shecomes back claiming they’re all there for the free food, a typical Katnissresponse that makes him laugh.

Halfway through the meal, he’s sent to thekitchen to grab another container of potato salad from the fridge. On the wayback, he’s stopped dead in his tracks before he rounds the corner of the houseby the conversation he hears.

“You’re not even the least bit upset that hecame here with Madge and they’re now sucking face?” Johanna asks, and Peetaknows she’s talking about Darius, Katniss’ ex-boyfriend, who showed up to theparty as Madge’s guest. Which means Johanna is talking to Katniss. He shouldannounce his presence rather than eavesdrop.

“God no. He can suck face with whomever hewants,” Katniss responds without a trace of anger, malice, hurt, or evenjealousy in her voice.

“I knew it. You’re in love with him,” Johannacrows.

“I am not,” Katniss insists.

“Not Darius, Brainless. The one that caused yourbreakup with Darius,” Johanna drops her voice and Peeta’s ears perk up asKatniss speaks again.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she insists, butthere’s a hitch in her voice that tells Peeta she’s lying. His heart plummetsto his toes and he braces a hand on the side of the house. Katniss is in lovewith someone. It was only a matter of time, but he thought he had more of it.

Ever since she’d broken up with Darius, Peetahas been working up the courage to finally tell her how he feels about her. Itwouldn’t be easy or simple, he reminded himself. Their friendship means theworld to him, and to her too, he hopes. Risking it on a romantic relationshipmight kill it or hurt them both. So he planned on being delicate about bringingit up, emphasizing that he’d do everything in his power to keep theirfriendship alive, to include burying his feelings as deep as necessary if theyturned out to be as one sided as he suspects. But now it sounds like it doesn’tmatter anyways. He waited too long.

“Oh come on. We both know Darius dumped youbecause he knew it, too. It’s all over your face every time you’re around him.You need to get on that before someone else does,” Jo keeps going despiteKatniss’ protests. “I’m just saying, there’s any number of ladies who wannaclimb him like a tree. Plus, he’s head over heels for you.”

He’s heard enough and back tracks to open theside door to the house before slamming it shut to give them a warning andwalking back around the house with a smile on his face. He manages to smile atthem both as he walks by on his way to take the salad to the buffet table.

Five minutes later as Katniss fills her platewith seconds, the tall and dark-haired guy from earlier rubs elbows with herand talks to her quietly.

“Oh, Peeta, this is Gale,” she introduces them,a pretty flush on her face. “Gale and I went to the same high school together.”

“Yeah?” Peeta asks as he shakes Gale’s hand.

“Ran into one another back in February, was it?”Gale says, glancing at Katniss for confirmation. Peeta misses whatever shesays, his mind caught on the timing, so close the day she and Darius broke up.And this is the first he’s heard mention of Gale at all. Which means they’vebeen seeing each other and Katniss hadn’t seen fit to tell Peeta, her bestfriend, about it. He swallows the lump of hurt this revelation causes.

They talk for a minute, but when Katnissfinishes her food and tosses her plate in the trash, any miniscule hope Peetahad left is smashed to pieces. Gale leans down towards Katniss and murmurssomething that makes her laugh, her head thrown back and a satisfied smile onGale’s face as he leads her off to the side, away from Peeta.

He’s not blind. He can tell Gale’s handsome.Tall, dark, taciturn, and brooding. Mysterious. Traditionally masculine basedon his conversation about archery and backpacking through Peru, fishing andhunting. The classic literary hero. And Katniss seems so at ease around him,that Peeta now knows Gale must be the one Johanna was referring to.

He reminds himself that his feelings are hisproblem to get over, and for the next few months, focuses on being just herfriend. Like always. It’d hurt far more to have her cut him out of her lifecompletely should her relationship with Gale escalate, so Peeta concentrates onbeing the best friend possible, making sure she knows he’ll always be there forher, no matter what. All the while, he braces himself for the blow to hisheart. But it never arrives.

Sometime around New Years, Gale starts datingone of Katniss’ coworkers instead, reawakening his hopes.

************************

TWENTY-FIVE

Peeta’s not sure what wakes him. He lays in thedark trying to place the sounds. There’s movement beside him in the bed andthen a sharp inhale.

“Katniss?” he asks, reaching out to turn on thebedside lamp, grateful that the power’s been restored, before rolling over tocheck on her. Sometimes she has nightmares about a car wreck that nearly killedher entire family when she was a teenager. Her eyes are wide and hazy as shewatches him, her cheeks stained with heat, her entire body rigid. “Are youokay?”

“Fine,” she gasps. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

“You don’t sound fine,” Peeta says and scootscloser to her. She flinches back away from him. His brow furrows in confusion,but as the seconds tick by, the appalled look still on her face, Peeta acceptswhat he feared earlier. That whatever happened between them was not some grandconfession of her love for him after all, but just a one night stand. And nowshe probably regrets it. “Okay. I’ll just go sleep on the couch. Give you somespace.”

“Graham sleeps there,” Katniss says, promptingPeeta to look at the time on his phone. It’s not even midnight yet. Rain stilldrums on the roof, steady and heavy, although he doesn’t hear any thunder.

“They won’t be home for a few more hours. He cansleep on the floor,” Peeta says and moves to stand from the bed.

“Wait!” Katniss says and grabs his arm. Peetastares down at her hand, at the two fingers glistening in the faint light. Hecan feel the sticky moisture coating them. Slowly, he lifts his gaze to her asthe realization of what she was doing dawns on him.

The very thought that she was doing that besidehim, in his bed, coupled with her tight grip on his arm sends desire screamingthrough his body. She huffs before releasing him, but he grips her wrist andbrings her hand towards his face. It’ll probably scare the shit out of her, buthe’s already told her that he’s in love with her, so what’s one more gamble?

He can smell her arousal on her fingers andwatches her eyes turn limpid with desire as he opens his mouth and sets herfingers on his tongue before sucking. The taste confirms his suspicions. He’snever forgetting this taste as long as he lives.

“Were you touching yourself, Katniss?” he asks,the lack of sleep removing his usual filters. She licks her lips and flexes herfingers, her wrist still in his hold.

“Maybe,” she whispers and he waits for furtherexplanation. She seems to come to a decision and scoots closer to him, leanstowards him. “I didn’t want to bother you, but I…I was thinking about you,Peeta. I always think about you.”

His stomach flips over and his cock stirs tolife at her confession. These aren’t things Katniss would share easily or withjust anyone. She guards her heart and her desires like they’re gold in FortKnox most of the time. Too many dates and boyfriends who claimed to love herfiery spirit only to try to douse it once they had her has made her cautious.Peeta wants to destroy every last one of them for nearly destroying one of thethings that draws him to her.

“But there’s more,” she whispers and he smilesslightly at the memory of his birthday two years ago. “I feel the same way.”

It takes him a moment to catch up, but when hedoes, his heart soars. “You’re helplessly in love with me?”

“I am,” she says with a slow nod. “I have beenfor a long time. I’m not sure how long, but I know that I don’t want whathappened earlier tonight to be the last time we do those things together.”

Peeta shifts beneath the covers to move in onher and Katniss reaches out to palm him through his shorts, making himimpossibly hard. “I thought we were taking things slow.”

“Slow? We’ve both wanted this for years, Peeta.Don’t you think that’s slow enough?” she asks, one eyebrow climbing up herforehead as her lips curl into a smile.

“Fair enough,” he says, relieved when she twiststheir hands so she’s gripping his wrist and pulls his hand straight to hercenter. She moans at the first touch of his fingers, the sound needy enoughthat he barely registers that her panties are nowhere on her body. “Fuck you’realready so wet. Next time you can’t sleep…wake me up and I’ll gladly help.”

“Oh, okay. I will,” she whispers. A thoughtoccurs to him and he needs to know, another piece that would mean she didn’tmake this choice on a whim.

“When I asked you earlier today if I was losingmy touch–”

“Oh my god,” she moans, gripping his arms as hecurls his fingers inside her. His cock jumps eagerly when he feels just howaroused she already is.

“What did you do after we hung up last night?”

“This. Oh, Peeta,” she admits breathlessly.

He hasn’t even made a wish on birthday candlesyet today, and here his wishes are all coming true. He strokes her folds andlatches his mouth around one nipple after she tears her shirt from her body.Her hands claw at his shirt too, but he waits until she’s writhing and pleadingwith him, telling him that she needs him, before he stops kissing and touchingher long enough to remove his clothes. His hands fumble around in hisnightstand before he finds a condom. He squints at the expiration date, hisvision clouded as Katniss’ teeth tug on his earlobe and her body writhesbeneath him.

“Hurry. Now,” she urges when he’s able to makeout that it’s still good, if only just. Once he has it on, their hands grip andtug, bodies shift until he’s sliding inside of her.

“Finally,” she sighs when he’s buried all theway, his pulse thrumming madly and his arms shaking in the effort to keep frompounding into her mindlessly.

“You love me,” he whispers as he pulls out tilljust his head is still inside her.

“I do, Peeta,” she gasps as he plunges back in.

“Why’d we wait so long?” he groans as he gripsthe sheets beside her ribs and moves slowly, so he doesn’t hurt her.

“I don’t know anymore,” she says threading herfingers through his hair and bringing his mouth to hers. They kiss as he moves,building her up to the point she can’t take it anymore.

He can’t decide if he’d rather kiss her orwatch, and ends the kiss to rest his forehead on hers and do the latter, awedby the open desire and need in her gray eyes. “God Katniss, I wish I’d beenbraver sooner. Had spoken up a year ago when I wanted to.”

“Shut up and make up for it now,” she orders.She writhes beneath him, tangling the sheets around their legs, moaning witheach thrust until she bends upwards and grips the slats of his headboard withone hand.

“Please. Peeta, please,” she whines. “Don’t makeme wait any longer.”

He moves faster, encouraged by the singing wailsof delight that fly from her throat and dance through his senses along with theecstasy of being inside her. She demands everything from him and he gives it,gripping the headboard with one hand next to hers, to give himself betterleverage, shouting when her nails rake over his shoulder and back, trailing firethrough his blood with her eager moans and desperate thrusts meeting his. Thebed squeaks and the headboard keeps time against the wall. Their slick skinslides and sticks and burns at every touch. It’s never been this loud, intense,or uninhibited with anyone before and he shoves aside regrets that he didn’tspeak up sooner to live fully in this moment, to focus on her first tremors onhis cock.

“Like that. Ung! Just like that, Peeta!” sheexclaims, her eyes locked on his, and then her words dissolve into incoherentsounds of elation as he twists his hips until her walls cease their clenching.His arms shake and she practically purrs as she moves her hips against his,whispers to him to keep going, to come for her.

The headboard once more thumps against the wallin time with his desperate grunts. He tries not to pound her like an animal,but her claws in his skin and the things she whispers to him drive him out ofhis mind with need. He’s hanging off the edge until she demands that he ‘letgo’ and he thrusts twice more, releasing a gut wrenching shout as euphoriaburns through him. Peeta falls still as he fills the condom, his orgasm lastinglonger than any he can remember. He practically blacks out from the intense pleasureand has to roll to the side to keep from crushing her when he collapses.

He lays there with his eyes closed and theirlegs entangled, catching his breath and trailing his fingers through the sheenof sweat on her skin, listening to her ragged breathing as they slowly driftback down.

“Happy Birthday, Peeta. Told you that you couldhave both,” she whispers as she rolls over to cuddle into his side. He holdsher there and smiles, opening one eye and checking the clock on his phone,surprised when he sees that the time is 11:58. So it is still his birthday.Setting the phone down, he gathers her in his embrace and kisses her, slow andsavoring each touch, each soft smacking sound of their mouths. The thoughtdrifts through his mind that his brother was wrong. The best thing to everhappen to him occurred on his twenty-fifth birthday, and he’s certain that itcan only get better from here.

“I never gave you your present,” she pouts atone point, making Peeta laugh.

“You mean there’s more?”

**********************

Although Katniss staying the night is nothingnew, they’re careful about their appearance the next morning as they wanderinto the kitchen for breakfast, not wanting to give his brothers anything toantagonize them over. Peeta’s surprised to see both of his brothers awake,leaning against the kitchen counter and drinking coffee, a plate of muffinsfresh from the oven sitting on the island. Both of them appear cheerful and notthe least bit hungover.

“Morning,” he says as Katniss slides into one ofthe stools at the island and he starts the water for tea.

“Good morning indeed,” Ryen says, making thehair on the back of Peeta’s neck stand on edge. He turns to say something, buthis brother cuts him off. “We didn’t get a chance to give you your cake lastnight. But last minute changes needed to be made to the message, so I guess itturned out better this way.”

Katniss lifts the lid off the plastic cakecaddy, her face almost instantly turning a splotchy red before she drops thelid back in place and stares up at Peeta with wide eyes.

He’s by her side in two steps as his brothersboth double over in laughter. At first, Katniss tries to stop him from looking,and he’s now a little scared of what he’ll find beneath the lid, but then shesighs and shrugs, flipping the lid off for him herself and smiling wryly.

“Guess they got home earlier than we thought,”she says and Peeta looks down at the messy frosting job that clearly indicateshis brothers scraped off the original icing and replaced it with the four wordsin bright blue.

Congrats on the Sex!

He opens his mouth to yell at his brothers forbeing insensitive assholes, but Katniss laughs and then yanks his head down tohers, stopping his words and his annoyance at his brothers with her lips onhis. He loses himself quickly in the kiss and only vaguely hears his brothers’reaction.

“So does this mean you’ll have an open bedroomsoon?”

“Oh fuck no. Don’t leave me with him, Peeta,”Ryen whines.

Peeta lifts his head and pushes the cake towardshis brother. “Have some cake, Ryen. It’ll make you feel better.” Then hedeposits the plate of fresh muffins in Katniss’ hands, scoops her out of herchair, and carries her and the muffins back to bed…so they can have both.

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