#IT'S LITERALLY ONLY GALE THAT MAKES ME THIS OBNOXIOUS??? like all the others i can just say words recreationally

[eclipsecrowned]

not me breaking out v*lo's guide to w*terdeep for that one --

[eff-plays]

How do you feel about Wyll's views on his father not changing at all? I felt kinda weird listening to Wyll literally tell his dad "there's nothing to forgive" like he was apologizing for casting out his teenaged son and Wyll's like NAh. He feels the same about that whole situation as he did at the start of the game, I think I would've preferred some sort of change or development? not even something big but denying his fathers apology feels weird, even "I understand and respect why he did it but I wish he just listened instead of assuming I had anything but good intentions" ?? Like he was 17 when he made a deal with a devil to save the city, and he did!!!! But maybe that's just cause I'm mad that Ulders first words after being saved are shitting on Tav for his son being a demon lmaoooo

what are your thoughts on it if you have any xoxo

I have thots, but disclaimers upfront because I will be talking out of my ass for most of this:

All the D&D I've played have been in entirely homebrew worlds, because most of my friends are also writers or at least worldbuilders. So I have no previous experience with the Forgotten Realms or its canon, i.e. I had no idea who Ulder Ravengard was and why Wyll being his son was a big deal, though I assumed he was someone very important.

I never actually um. Finished Act 3. Yeah, I uninstalled the game before I finished it lmao. I kept thinking "oh I'll come back to it once Larian have fixed it!" *looks into the camera like I'm on The Office* I finished Karlach, Astarion, and Wyll's quests, though I didn't start the Ansur part of it because it felt kinda random, and obviously I knew we wouldn't be getting a cool epic dragon for an ally, so I decided to leave that bit for later with the other bigger companion quests like Lae'zel's, Shart's, and Gale's. Jokes on me, right?

But I did save Ulder with Wyll, and did pick the one option to show via tadpole that Wyll is a good sweet boy. And I got the underwhelming "nothing to forgive" reunion. So I do know that part.

I played only like. An hour of early access. And then dropped it and uninstalled the game because it didn't grab me. I certainly didn't meet Wyll, and even if I had, I think it would've been post-rewrites.

Okay, now onto my actual thots. It's extremely long lmao I love yapping.

First of all, I think Ulder disowning Wyll could have actually worked quite well if they'd kept old Wyll, who I hear was kind of an obnoxious, arrogant dude. Like, if your teen son is a bit of a knob, and you're the most important nobleman/politician in an important city, then it "makes sense" to disown him as a disciplinary measure. You know he can take care of himself, you know he's capable of greatness, but he's a bit of a dickhead and needs to grow up. So tell him to leave and maybe in a few years he'll sort himself out. It's fucked up, but it's the sort of thing I can see a guy in this situation and in this world do.

BUT. Wyll isn't an arrogant and obnoxious dude. He's very mature, very kind, and always well-meaning. Nothing indicates this was different when he was a teen. So Ulder disowning him feels disproportionately cruel from the start, and it is, but it also feels like it comes out of nowhere and makes Ulder looks less like a strict parent and a politician doing what he thinks is the best out in a bad situation, and more like ... well, like a fucking asshole. Hence why it feels so fucking unfair and unfinished that Wyll just forgives him, or rather says there's nothing to forgive? It feels like Wyll constantly has to take on the role of the adult, of the emotionally mature one, of the one who is too good-hearted and understanding to ever feel anything negative, while his garbage dad gets to just be a douchebag towards his son without much cause or consequence.

Furthermore, we never get the sense that Ulder feels bad or regrets what he did, or that he's at least conflicted, even with his apology. It's just "Yeah I disowned my son. No I don't expect him to come back better in any way." And then he flips on a dime after a single conversation, so his decision to disown Wyll feels like it was easily undone and not of any consequence. Wyll forgiving him immediately feels just very unearned, and like the narrative itself frames Ulder's actions as understandable? (On that note, showing Ulder some tadpole visions to prove Wyll is good, I prommy, feels so cheap? Like y'all really did that, huh? And Ulder, who assumed the worst when his beloved son showed up in a warlock pact, would just take the vague visions of a stranger when his son looks like a saucy incubus? Ok.)

Now, if Larian had wanted to stick with this, I think it could've worked this way if Wyll was afforded any sort of emotional depth. Like, if Wyll said "there's nothing to forgive" initially, because he loves and deeply respects his father and thinks, logically, that what he did was right, so he tries to justify it to himself in order for that cruel act to make sense. But then he realizes that it still hurts, that it was unfair, that it was cruel, and that he can't forgive his dad, not this easily at least. That initial "nothing to forgive" would've worked excellently as a kneejerk reaction, a defense mechanism, and something for him to later retract when he realizes that "nothing to forgive" means "nothing you do would make me forgive you". That would've been juicy as FUCK.

If Larian had instead wanted to afford Ulder more depth and make us understand his actions (which they wanted to do with Wyll saying there's nothing to forgive, signalling to us that Ulder in some ways was justified), then they should've made Wyll a huge brat as a younger teen. If they'd done that, we as modern players would still find it a bit unfair, but a nobleman disowning his rowdy-ass son for taking an escapade a step to far, to teach him a lesson? That makes sense, doesn't it? It would've been a strict parent thing to do, but assuming Ulder knew his son would make it on his own, cutting him off from the privilege that's turning him into a dickhead would be a sensible course of action. If that's what happened, then it would've also made sense for Ulder to immediately get pissed off when he saw Wyll transformed, because he'd assume that his cringefail son didn't learn his lesson at all. AND it would've made sense for Wyll to say there's nothing to forgive: because he knows he used to be a huge fucking brat, and his Mizora thing would've just looked like another prank Youtuber oopsie to Ulder, who had no reason to believe otherwise.

Now, Larian did neither of these things, or rather, tried to do both without actually committing, because then it would make one of the two look "bad" (i.e. like a real flawed human being). That's why it ends up feeling incongruent and, say it with me now, unfinished. There is no logical progression to their actions, because, say it with me now, nobody bothered to give them consistent motivations or depth.

Here's the two plots laid out in order to illustrate what I think would be logical courses of actions for both characters, compared to what Larian actually did:

1

Wyll is a baby boy, baby > Ulder is a ruthless politician who's obsessed with his image > Wyll steps into dogshit (Mizora) and smells funny now, but can't explain where the smell is coming from > All the nobles are like "ew this stinks lmfao" > Ulder decides to disown his son for the sake of his power and image, justifying it to Wyll by saying it's what he owes to the people of Baldur's Gate > Wyll comes back, still baby boy, baby, but with horns now > Ulder is horrified about what this might do to his image again and tells him to fuck off > Tav shows him that Wyll is badass now and was always badass, stopped the cult of Tiamat etc > Ulder's politician brain fires up again and he realizes his son might be GOOD for his image, apologizes for disowning him > Wyll, still trying to tell himself his father did the right thing, says there's nothing to forgive > Realizes later that what Ulder did was fucked up and retracts his forgiveness > Ulder now has to figure out his priorities and relationship with his son while Wyll has asserted his autonomy and personhood.

2

Wyll is a known rich brat > Wyll steps into dogshit (Mizora) and smells funny now, but can't explain where the smell is coming from > Ulder is fucking tired of his son's dogshit shenanigans and disowns him for his own good > Wyll travels the world to become a cool hero dude, but gets turned into a devil so he looks bad > Ulder assumes his cringefail son is still cringefail > Realizes he's not cringefail anymore and apologizes for disowning him in that very vulnerable moment when he needed him most > Wyll says it's ok because he was indeed a massive brat who took it a step too far, and Ulder had no way of knowing his crying wolf was real this time > Flawed but happy family!!

3 (canon)

Wyll is a baby boy, baby > Wyll steps into dogshit (Mizora) and smells funny now, but can't explain where the smell is coming from > Ulder assumes his baby boy son did a prank youtuber oopsie and decides to disown his son for the sake of his power and image?? > Wyll comes back, still baby boy, but with horns now > Ulder assumes his baby boy son is cringefail??? > Tav shows him that Wyll is badass now and was always badass, stopped the cult of Tiamat etc > Ulder realizes only now that Wyll was never cringefail ?? and apologizes for disowning him because he actually loves him > Wyll says it's ok ?? > Everything is fine and back to normal, nobody did an oopsie and nothing changed.

Y'see what I mean???

And the thing is, given that I was able to piece together what they were going for and two entire potential angles that could've worked excellently, it's clear that there are bits of potential, little inklings of what could have been, but the writer just didn't bother exploring deeper at all? Like they had some ideas that they threw at the wall and then didn't rewrite or think about them at all. It feels like a first draft of a character's story, where you have some ideas but haven't figured out the overall structure or progression of events. Instead you just throw in everything you have and pretend that's a finished story and that the inconsistencies are just "depth" and "nuance", when in reality, you're just asking the player to fill in the gaps you couldn't be bothered with, and when they can't do that because it makes no damn sense, you just ignore them lol.

Um. Yeah. Those are my thots, lmao.

It's just unfinished. That's what it is. Straight up!!!

[seasonsofeverlark]

Pumpkin Pie and Cheese Buns

Author: @evestedic​

Prompt: Hard working coming home for thanksgiving. Stops at the store on the way to pick up the dessert she didn’t bother to make no one will notice anyway and runs into their ex lover. Tries to leave fast but has to take the walk of shame back to grab the cranberries too. Arrives home not just with the cranberries and pie…  [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: T

____________

“God damn it!” Katniss was not happy. 

It was Thanksgiving, which meant she was being forced to spend time with people she didn’t even know.

Why?

Because they’re family, Katniss.

She could hear her Aunt Martha’s voice. 

Why should she care that her cousin was getting married?

Or that her nephew had gotten into college? 

Or that her godfather was slipping her a 20 buck bill while winking an eye at her? 

She wasn’t a total bitch, so she bore with it, but this was people she saw one fucking time per year! 

If it wasn’t for Thanksgiving, she was sure she wouldn’t see them again as they never even called. Nor did she.

But, be that as it may, Prim loved big gatherings and the attention; she was, after all, quite cheerful. Her father also bore with it, although better than her. 

However, who knew? This year her mother was coming with her new boyfriend. 

Ugh, puke… 

And that was why she was there, November the 26th, coming back from work and on her way to Aunt’s Martha’s house. 

Katniss was not happy. 

She had already left the store not five minutes ago, but something kept nagging at the back of her head while she accommodated the bags in the back of her car. 

Of course, being who she was, she had forgotten dessert. The pumpkin pie with maple whipped cream. Sighing and fuming, she went back to the absolute chaos of the aisles. If she arrived at her aunt’s without dessert…well, she would rather face a biblical plague. 

After perusing the dessert stand and seeing everything was completely wiped out‒not even crumbs were left‒she gave up and thought about getting some canned peaches and cherries.  That’s when she heard it…   

“Is that you, Katniss?” 

That voice. 

She had loved it at one point. Now, it was just nails on a chalkboard. 

Turning around, she set her eyes on a huge blonde guy; he had a perfect gym advertisement body, a smirk on his face, and his arm around a blonde girl with the same perfect gym advertisement body. 

“Cato.” 

“Buying for Thanksgiving?”

“No, just came because I was craving some peaches.” 

“Oh.”

Seriously? It was the most direct sarcastic answer ever, and he had actually believed her? 

Katniss rolled her eyes and was about to turn around when the Barbie clone spoke. 

“Is this the one, babe?”

“Yes, baby, that’s her.”

“Oh, I thought she’d be…I don’t know, prettier?”

“She never wanted to put in the effort, baby.”

“She is standing right here. And if working out turns you dumb, I’m glad I didn’t do it.” 

Katniss had gone out with Cato for two years when they were nineteen. Back then, he had been a kind guy, funny and perhaps a bit silly, but very nice, normal. He had asked her out after a college party, and she accepted; the rest was history. 

However, after one year of being together, he began frequenting the campus gym and suddenly started to change. All he could talk about were diets, exercise, and protein. Katniss was all in for a healthier life; hell, she knew if she kept on eating Greasy Sae’s food every other night, she was going to clog her arteries by the time she was 35, but Cato was relentless. He got rid of all of her comfort food and she had been forbidden to eat chicken and meat ever again. Only turkey and fish were allowed, vegetables, no dairy or eggs, no sugar! She was going crazy; Katniss had reached the obscene point of hiding in the bathroom to eat a Snickers bar, only to quickly brush her teeth and rinse with Listerine at least thrice so that her boyfriend wouldn’t taste any trace of chocolate when he kissed her. It was that night when she knew she couldn’t do it anymore. She no longer recognized the guy she had agreed to date or herself, for that matter. So, Katniss decided to end it right then and there. She skipped her next class and went to their dorm only to find him banging the very same Barbie girl who was in front of her in the canned aisle right now. 

Quickest breakup ever. 

He had said it was her fault for not ‘putting in the effort,’ and she hated him for it. 

“Jealousy doesn’t fit you, Katniss. Well,” Cato gave her a once-over, “I doubt anything does. Have you gained weight?” 

“If I have, that wouldn’t be any of your fucking business. What are you doing here? Came to buy something for dinner? I think there’s a celery and mineral water pack on sale.” 

“Still salty because I chose someone better?” Cato shamelessly licked the girl’s ear, making her giggle in an obnoxious way that made Katniss want to gag. 

She didn’t have to stand here and watch this; she-

Was that a hand on her waist?

“Hey, sorry I took so long. I literally had to wrestle this from an old lady.” 

That voice. 

Peeta Mellark was holding onto her waist and smiling that charming smile that could probably tame a wild animal, while proudly presenting a ham to her.

“Um…” Eloquent as always. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were with friends.” 

“Yeah, no…Not my friends.” 

“Aren’t you the baker guy? You’re slumming it with the bakery employee?” Cato laughed while Barbie‒Katniss really couldn’t care less about her actual name‒looked at Peeta appreciatively. 

“I haven’t introduced myself,” Peeta said, extending his right hand but not letting Katniss’ waist go. Cato immediately took it, flexing his bicep as he did so, but his expression faltered when he shook Peeta’s hand. “Peeta Mellark, owner of ‘The Cake Lair’. Have you guys ever been?” 

Katniss was confused. 

It wasn’t as if she and Peeta were actually friends. They had talked, yes. She simply loved the pastries he sold, and because of how she had raved about his cheese buns, well…the double entendre put her in an uncomfortable position, but he had only laughed and thanked her for the compliment, as he had, in fact, baked those himself. 

Peeta always made sure to set aside at least two cheese buns for her prior to the end of the day. 

And okay, yeah, they had exchanged numbers and texted from time to time, but nothing deep. It was always things about the weather, the cheese buns, or how Prim was. Did that qualify as being friends? 

Katniss was awful at being a good friend, hence why she only had two: Gale and Madge. Her sister and father didn’t count; they were family. 

Shaking her head, she returned to the present to find that arm still around her and Cato’s face getting red. 

“Just let go, dude.  You’re about to pop a vein.” Peeta chuckled. 

Katniss directed her gaze at their hands; she could see they were both squeezing the hell out of each other. Cato probably thought he could scare Peeta off with his muscles, but he clearly hadn’t seen Peeta shirtless on a hot day, hauling 100-pound flour sacks onto his back as if they were light cargo. Peeta was strong, like ‘I could iron clothes on your stomach’ fit; he just didn’t flaunt it, and Katniss appreciated that.

Cato huffed and let go, and Peeta smiled once more and winked at Barbie, who was giggling like an idiot. 

“So, we should be going soon if we want to make it, Katniss. You know how Aunt Martha gets if we don’t get the groceries in time for her.” 

So yeah, she had told him about her hellish weekend to come last week, but Katniss didn’t think he would remember. 

With his hand still on her waist and her still not shrugging it off, they made to pass Cato and his doll, but, of course, the bodybuilder felt the need to use the sole neuron in his brain. 

“You know you’re just a replacement, right? I mean, she went and looked for the next guy that kinda looked like me because she clearly can’t forget me.” 

Tuck your thumb over your middle finger to make a proper fist. If you wrap your fingers around your thumb, you’re likely going to break it. 

Her father’s words and the boxing lessons came back in a flash, and before Peeta could hold her back, Katniss pivoted on her left foot, momentum aiding her, and connected her first with Cato’s jaw. She wasn’t an expert boxer or anything of the sort; she just liked the exercise, and she was strong. But Katniss must have been lucky enough to hit the sweet spot because Cato dropped to the aisle floor, unconscious. 

“Babe!” Barbie girl screeched, and suddenly, two more gorilla-looking guys were coming to her aid. 

Friends of his, no doubt. 

“Tell your boy toy, next time he wants to bully me to think twice, lest he finds himself beaten up again by a woman,” Katniss spat at the blonde girl. 

“You did this?” A broad and tall black guy asked. He was actually pretty scary, but Katniss held her ground and managed to nod. To her surprise, he chuckled and sort of bowed to her. “He’s an ass. I bet he had it coming. We’ll take care of him.” 

“Thresh! He’s your friend…” Barbie girl actually had tears in her eyes. 

“He’s not. We’re just in the same weightlifting class. And don’t cry; he’ll come to soon. Finnick, help me bring this idiot back.” 

“You must have a mean right hook, hon,” the guy with reddish hair and perfect teeth told Katniss. 

“I do.” She jutted out her chin proudly; her dad had taught her well. 

“Nice to know you have it all sorted out. Katniss, should we go?” Peeta was pulling her a bit, and she let him, both soon finding themselves out in the parking lot, having decided to leave behind the cans and the ham. 

Once they were in front of her car, Katniss did something she rarely did. 

“I’m sorry I cost you your ham.” 

Peeta seemed surprised, but he simply smiled. “That’s okay. There are a lot of hams left, actually; I just needed an excuse to walk up to you.” 

“Why did you do that?” 

“That guy was an ass, and I know you could’ve handled it on your own, but…,” he leaned in a bit and whispered, “doesn’t it feel good to let him know you’re with someone much better now?” 

Katniss couldn’t help it, she laughed. “You’re full of yourself, Mellark!” 

“Hey! I’m a catch, I tell you. Owner of his own bakery, hard-working; I know how to cook and bake, and I’m easy on the eyes, too.” 

“Not to mention, tons and tons of humility.” 

“That, too.” He smiled, and Katniss rolled her eyes, but she really didn’t feel angry with him. She hadn’t needed his help, but he had offered it freely without expecting anything in return. “So, I guess this is where we part ways.” 

“What are your plans for tonight, Peeta?” Katniss suddenly asked, and he was surprised as well. 

“Uhhhh, not much. Bake something? Eat it while watching TV, nothing exciting.” 

“You can come to my Aunt Martha’s, if you want. Prim would love to see you, and this way I can repay your ‘act of kindness’.” 

“Really? You sure it wouldn’t bother you?” 

“If it did, I wouldn’t have asked.” 

“Sure, I’d love to.” 

“Okay, but before that, there’s something I need you to do for me.” 

“What is it?” 

“Can you drive? My right hand is killing me.” 

                                                °•. ✿ .•°

“Why couldn’t you just buy it?” Katniss whined.

“Because I actually enjoy baking. You should know this already.” Peeta chuckled as he handled the mixer. After a few more turns, it seemed everything was ready. “I just need to flour the containers now.” Peeta patted his hands on his apron and went back to the pantry. 

Katniss took her chance. 

She slowly inched her hand forward, her eyes not leaving Peeta’s back, just in case. 

Two more inches and-

“I swear, Katniss, if you’re reaching for that dough I won’t make any cheese buns for a week.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she exclaimed, shocked. That wasn’t fair! Peeta hadn’t even turned around, but he knew what she had been about to do. 

“Try me, love.” He then approached the table again, watching a grumbling Katniss cross her arms. “You know you can’t have raw dough while pregnant.”

“That’s a stupid rule. I bet it’s invented. How did women manage centuries ago, then?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. They sometimes died intoxicated, so no biggie.” Peeta was serious now. 

“I wouldn’t die over a bit of dough…” She said it under her breath, but he heard.

Peeta sighed, and Katniss felt a pang of regret. Damn him. “Katniss, do we really have to discuss this again? It’s Thanksgiving, and I’d bet my bank account Aunt Martha would come down here and force you to go to the party if you weren’t so-” 

“Go on, finish what you were going to say.” Katniss knew she was so big she might be in need of her own postal code. 

“-tired. You’re carrying twins, and that’s not an easy feat. The only thing she asked for was the pumpkin pie with maple whipped cream.”

“Every fucking year.” 

“She indulges during the holiday.”

“Why not just get one from the bakery?”

“She wants it fresh.” 

“Why doesn’t she come down here and get it herself?”

“You really want your Aunt Martha here? Right now? Today?”

“…No.” Why did Peeta have to be so logical? 

“I know you’re crabby and your feet are probably swelling. Let me put this in the oven, and then I’ll massage them with some of that lavender cream your mother gave you.” 

“And a bath.”

“A massage and a bath, you got it.” 

Peeta, of course, fulfilled his promise and left Katniss so relaxed she fell asleep and didn’t even notice her husband had gone and come back from the Everdeen’s annual Thanksgiving gathering. 

By the time she opened her eyes, he was sitting next to her, reading a book. 

“Hey…did you all get a proper rest?” Peeta put a hand on her belly, smiling. 

“I think so, yeah; they just started moving.” 

“I can feel. Here, let me help you up.” Peeta’s strength was no joke. He could single-handedly lift her up, yes, even when she felt like a whale, and prop her on the bed so she could sit comfortably. “That okay?” 

“Yes, perfect.” 

“Happy anniversary, love.” He presented her with a huge cheese bun, making her laugh.

“Peeta, just because we fucked for the first time four years ago today, doesn’t mean it’s an anniversary.”

“For me it is! Come on, I bet you didn’t think we’d end up doing it in the bathroom that night.” 

“I seriously didn’t.”

“But here we are, and that’s all that matters.” 

Her husband really was the cheesiest person alive, but she secretly adored that part of him. 

“Shut up and let me enjoy my cheese bun.”

“Your wish is my command.” 

[theothergal]

TW: mentions of fictional homophobia

Hello!

I'm @theothergal. I'm a 17 y.o. Italian girl, and today I'm gonna explain you the meaning of the Italian idiom "sparare sulla croce rossa" (literally : shooting at the Red Cross).

This expression means taking advantage of someone's inability to answer back or to defend himself, or, in general hitting an easy target. Often, this phrase is used to point out how easy is to do something.

You may ask, why is this post on the "anti the selection tag"?

Well, because shooting at the Red Cross is exactly what I'm gonna do in this post.

This is an analysis (more like a rant) on a scene from the last book of the spin-off of this serie, The Crown and why that scene sucks. Which is incredibly easy to tell. There will spoilers, so don't read if you don't want to spoil yourself the story.

Let's go.

The scene I'm talking about is Hale's coming out. Now, for the ones who don't remember: Hale, a mildy important side character, reveals to Eadlyn that he's in love with Ean, another mildly important side character, and so neither of them want to marry her. She whines because the fact that two men, quoted, "prefers to stay with each instead that with her", makes her feel unlovable, even though she's LITERALLY having an affair with a guy that is not even part of the Selection (seriously, how self centered can you possibly be?). But she agrees on sending them home because she's Good™ and everything ends well.

Personally, I keep this scene inside my heart since I was 12, when I read the Selection Serie for the first time. At the time I was a baby queer just trying to figure out my identity, and seeing that Hale and Ean were in love made me think "Wow! Gay characters existing! Cool!". And then I started writing a fanfiction about those two. I slowly lost interest and I left it interrupted on chapter 7...until this year, when I remembered that I have a Wattpad account and I decided to continue it.

But I needed to reread the books first, and so I did.

And my love for the Selection turned into hate. A fiery hate that fueled my creativity, but still hate nonetheless.

Because these books are...the worst thing I've ever read (yes, even worse than my drafts).

Nonsensical. Full of plot holes and bland characters without any depth. And, worst of all, cursed with the most obnoxious main character EVER. I wanted to slap Eadlyn every instant. She acts like she's the most oppressed person ever even though she's the future queen of and absolute monarchy where people literally die of starvation and post caste discrimination is rampant.

But I'm not here to talk about her.

This is an analysis on the coming out and why this scene doesn't make any sense.

Let's start with the fact that Gale and Ean never, and I mean NEVER, interact with each other in two books.

In the Elite there's a similar storyline: Marlee, America's best friend, falls in love with a guard, and they have a secret relationship. Now, in their case there are subtextual clues that they are in love. The same subtext can't be found for these two.

Hale could've fallen in love with Kile, with Fox, with his unnamed servant, with Gianfranco the Panini Man, for what it's worth, and nothing would change. The same for Ean.

So their relationship is only a convenient plot twist to get rid of two useless characters and at the same time throwing some token queer rep to make the plot spicier.

Now, talking about the coming out, the only thing I have to say is... WHY?

Ok, let's believe that Hale and Ean are in love... This doesn't explain why the hell is Hale coming out to Eadlyn.

We now that Illéa is a canonically homophobic country:

"When the castes had been in place, it was law that every family fell into the caste of the husband. Because of that, there could only ever be one male head of the household. The same went for women: no married couple, no legitimate household. Some people lived together without bothering with marriage, calling their lovers roommates, but it was frowned on. Mom told me about a same-sex couple back in Carolina who’d been shunned to the point that they were driven out of town."

"Regardless, same-sex couples tended to live in the shadows, on the outskirts of society, and unfortunately that was still the case today. This made Ean’s acceptance of not finding love in his life much more understandable."

How nice.

Hale 's relationship with Eadlyn is a cordial acquaitance at best. They' ve know each other for less than three months and he doesn't know how she will react because they've never discussed the subject before, so why would he tell her? Especially considering that she's not a random girl, she's the almost queen of said homophobic country. And he's supposed to be one of her suitors. And the punishment for the Selectioned who have affairs outside the selection is DEATH.

Ok, we know that Eadlyn is Best Person Evah™ and the Sun shines out of her ass, but Hale doesn't know. This make Hale coming out not only incredibly dangerous for both Hale and Ean, but also useless, because if they didn't want to take part to the Selection they could just... Go.

One of the rules of this Selection was that none of the Suitors was forced to stay, if he changed his mind. They could just ask to go back home.

Unless Hale wanted to die, this is not how a closeted gay boy in an hostile place would act.

But ok, if I can, with BIIIIIIIIIG stretch, understand why Hale told her, we are forgetting about someone.

Ean.

Ean is described as a smart and cunning guy who trusts no one, and since book 1 he states that he has renounced finding love and he prefers to be wealthy and safe.

Ok, maybe in the span of two books he's changed his mind, but it still doesn't make any sense that he would allow Hale to come out and put the both of them at risk. Because yes, when Hale comes out he reveals that Ean is his lover, so I assume that Ean agreed to be outed.

If Hale just outed him without is consent, not only would he be a gigantic asshole, but Ean would be justified in dumping him.

In the ocean.

With sharks.

But the text makes it clear that Ean knew and agreed on Hale's plan, which is both incredibly stupid and OOC af.

So, in conclusion, Kiera Cass has no idea of how to write a realistic queer character. Her queer rep is just a lazy excuse to move forward the plot and to make the MC look good.

The rant is over, if you wanna add something write a comment, I hope you'll like it.

Bye!

[bigskydreaming]

So just out of curiosity, what inspired the whole Beacon Bay idea? What kind of sharks and dolphins are they? This entire thing is very intriguing to me and I can't wait to see more.

So first off, anyone who’s ever played soundingboard to my original stuff like Moukie or Adam can attest to the fact that I’m ocean obsessed, so there’s pretty much nothing I’m interested in that isn’t a mere two or three steps removed from an ocean/merfolk/sea witch AU in my head. Gimme anything and like, five minutes, and I can make it ocean themed. Space operas included. I grew up near the ocean, been surfing for ages though of course I haven’t in years, blah, but like. I’m a big fan of the deep blue sea. Its just....neat. ghaskfhalkfhla

So I’ve always had a bunch of ocean-set concepts. This particular AU came about from like, smashing a couple of them together to preserve them when my plans for doing original stuff with them fizzled out, at least for the time being. Cuz the other thing about me is the way some people like, take their fanfic and file off the serial numbers to turn it into original novels, I more often do the reverse, lmao. When I have something I can no longer do something with original-content-wise, for whatever reason, but I still like the idea, I turn it into fanfic so I can still play around with it whenever I want and like, have purpose to that, so I don’t feel like I’m wasting time by still ‘indulging’ in that concept or whatever.

Like my Batfandom fic By Lost Ways, as I’ve mentioned before....that actually started out as an original high fantasy novel set in my ‘Tales of the Citadel’ shared universe. BUT the setting ended up being similar enough to a sci-fi project I wanted I to move forward with, ‘Waveriders’ (the one with the sky pirates and the ATLA-style benders only instead of evoking the four classical elements, waveriders could each ‘hack’ a different kind of wavelength, that one) like....basically, the projects FELT similar enough in setting and various superficial elements that I started to feel derivative of myself moving forward with both, so I picked Waveriders and then recycled the setting and a lot of the plot of the sky-set fantasy novel for fanfic, just for fun.

Same thing here, though Beacon Bay is basically the mash-up of two different shelved original projects. Basically, its the plot of a CW-style show about teen sirens and the sea witch making like the Fagin to their Oliver Twists, from a pilot I wrote years ago.....it got some interest but I refused to make it less gay because lol have you met me, so it ultimately never went anywhere but I still liked the plot. 

And then remember the werewolf books I mentioned awhile back, that had the mongoose shifters in them? LOL. Yeah, so I’d written two and a half novels in that series and had this whole expansive worldbuilding of twelve different shifter clans each with their own innate magic, patron deity/creator, etc, but all my agent and editor contacts at the time were like yeah sorry, shifters are over for now, and I was like wow, can’t believe cancel culture’s real and publishing cancelled werewolves, wtf, rude, and then I was like eh, still wanna play in this universe especially with the dolphins and shark shifters which I never even really got to in those books, so I’m just gonna air-lift them out of that and drop them smack in the middle of my CW siren plot and fanfic away to my heart’s content and call that ‘being productive’ when I feel like it.

Anyway, found family was a big theme of those books and the world-building I did there in general, because again, have you met me, I’m not predictable or anything (shhh, the word is consistent), and one of my initial things there was I wanted the various shifter types to all have innate magic, because for literally no real reason that I can discern other than Whimsy, I have always been Team Werewolf in vampires vs werewolves, and I was tired of werewolves always being by default the underdogs in those narratives. Even if that does make for a good pun.

SO, I wanted to come up with werewolf magic that felt natural and organic to werewolves, like nothing too flashy or obscure, but that would make them a legitimate threat even to other supernatural creatures. And I made it so each of the shifter types were granted an active and a passive magic by the god that created their type of shifter, and with werewolves, their active magic was that of the pack gestalt. I took the idea of ‘their whole is greater than the sum of their parts’ that TW kinda briefly touched on when presenting (but never really doing much with) the idea that the more wolves in a pack, the stronger that pack was.....and I decided okay what if being part of a pack upped stats all across the board AND all shifters have a SLIGHT innate resistance to magic, being innately magical beings themselves? 

So a werewolf pack, with enough pack members, would thus not only be formidable in strength, speed, senses and speed of healing....but compound that innate shifter resistance to magic, which in a single shifter is negligible, like, just enough to make them slightly harder to track with magic or curse or whatever.....but in a whole werewolf pack, that adds up to make the pack effectively immune to foreign magic. Vampires can’t compel them, demons can’t possess them, witches can’t curse them, etc. So a lone werewolf, not part of a pack, is formidable, but nothing another supernatural being can’t take on. But a lone werewolf who IS part of a pack....different story entirely, because now most other supernatural beings, no matter what their USUAL strengths, are reduced to taking on that werewolf hand to hand, as their own supernatural gifts or spells or whatever, like, aren’t gonna do them any good against these particular foes. And werewolves are USED to fighting with just brute physical strength and attributes, which gives them the edge against opponents who are more used to being able to fall back on magic in battle.

But as much as I like sticking to a theme, I like to diversify that theme where possible, so when it came to the other shifter types, I wanted to similarly come up with ways where ‘the whole would be greater than the sum of their parts’ but in like, entirely different ways.

So with dolphin shifters, their ‘passive magic’ (in quotes cuz that’s not quite the right word for it but whatever) is that they’re all empaths, with their more active magic being weather manipulation. Their empathy is a two-way street....they project emotions as well as just feel other peoples’, which ties into the fact that their patron deity was Dionysus. Dolphin parties....legendary. But in an extremely wild, dangerous and Bacchanalian kinda way. In terms of Beacon Bay specifically, this is a bit of a problem for the BB dolphins, as the closest thing they had to an official Triton (the dolphin shifter version of an Alpha) was Peter, but they were like nope, not loving this guy, and kinda drove him out of town in the AU S1 backstory of this ‘verse, which means Scott and the others are kinda just making it up as they go along, and don’t really know the ins and outs of BEING dolphin shifters. (Derek is....elsewhere, in this. Mostly). 

So bottom line is they have reputations around school for being loud obnoxious goofs and trouble-makers, constantly playing hooky and such, but its because they don’t really know HOW to safeguard against spilling their emotions onto everyone around them so they try and err on the side of being the life of the party whenever possible, as that’s better than the alternatives in their opinion. And when they’re just having bad days and bumming hard, the whole pod will just skip school and glomp around the bumming pod member whilst self-caring, rather than like, accidentally bum out the entire school.

But their weather manipulation magic is where the gestalt idea comes into play with them, as I love weather manipulating powers, but I didn’t want to make them all Ororo Munroe, y’know? Only Ororo Munroe can be Ororo Munroe. Don’t make me scoff. I’ll do it. I’ll scoff so hard. SO I went with the idea of weather control married to manipulating storms via song and was like, okay what if a dolphin pod is like, a symphony of shifters. 

Basically, its like each individual dolphin shifter is a single voice in a chorus, and there’s magical equivalents of being a baritone, an alto, etc. Like, none of them can whip up a storm on their own. Its more that each of them can summon or conjure a PIECE of a storm with their song, with it being different for each of them....symptomatic of their magic as an expression of them as an individual. So for instance, Scott’s song is ‘tuned’ to lightning. He can call down a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky.....but he can’t summon so much as a drop of rain to save his life. Literally. Its an actual plot point at one point. Whereas Isaac’s song is all about calling down rain, Boyd’s is more of an arctic wind, and Erica’s kinda summons a pressure front that in harmony with the two of theirs can whip up a mean waterspout. And then Corey’s all about conjuring fog banks with low visibility while Liam can whistle up a strong, gale-force wind but sucks at using his song as a precision instrument. Etc, etc. But the real magic is when they all use their voices and magic in concert....as a group, they can summon huge magical thunderstorms.

Also, one thing I love about using different kinds of shifters is the opportunity to explore enhanced supernatural senses that aren’t just keen sight, smell or hearing. So the dolphin shifters aren’t like wolf shifters in being able to detect chemosignals or anything like that....in fact, their sense of smell isn’t much different from anyone else’s. But they do have an ability to use what’s effectively supernatural echolocation even above water, and their sight is adapted for optimal viewing underwater, making them particularly good at seeing in the darkness even on land. 

(Also, related but somewhat tangential to both the shifter senses and dolphin ‘voices’....all dolphin shifters have a strong talent for mimicry, but this isn’t technically a form of magic, more just a combination of their control over their voice and their keen senses of pitch, etc).

The shark shifters, on the other hand, have some of the keenest senses of all shifters. Not only is their sense of smell even better than a werewolf’s, they’re sensitive to changes in pressure, for one thing. Which means on land, they can even feel changes in atmospheric pressure.....so like, the shark shifters of Beacon Bay could be in math class and then ‘feel’ a sudden drop in air pressure and thus even before some strange weather phenomenon occurs, they’re groaning like ugh fucking A, what the hell did the damn dolphins do now.

Also, their magnetic field perception is such that they can kinda ‘sense’ when people are around, just by being aware of the approaching magnetic field of another living being.

And then with the sharks, I was looking for ways to lean into the associations we have with sharks and blood, but subvert them to be less macabre and more communal. And another big theme of mine in general is like, I am DETERMINED to go to my grave shouting at the top of my lungs “Its THE BLOOD OF THE COVENANT IS THICKER THAN THE WATER OF THE WOMB, NOT BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER, HOW DID PEOPLE GET THAT SO BACKWARDS ITS SUPPOSED TO BE THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF HOW ITS USUALLY STATED!”

Like, that’s just...HUGE pet peeve of mine. Its like nails on a chalkboard, lmfao, that drives me nuts. That phrase is usually cited by people using it to express like, the idea that there’s no greater force than family, specifically BIOLOGICAL, ‘blood’ relations, but its literally meant to be the exact opposite, that the blood of CHOSEN bonds, of covenants, of vows or promises, is a greater force than the water of the womb, ie being born of the same womb, as in biological siblings. The entire point of the phrase is biology ain’t shit, family is what we choose. And somehow it got turned ENTIRELY around.

(Note: Okay, so for the record, its not ‘somehow’, there’s actually a very clear reason for why that particular interpretation gained so much momentum, and that’s because for a long time it was conflated with an old German proverb from like a thousand years ago that basically translates to “kin-blood is not spoiled by water.” Which basically was meant to mean that nothing can ‘dilute’ blood relations, not time, not distance, not water. So that phrase DOES correspond to the idea that ‘blood is thicker than water.’ Problem is, there isn’t a direct trace from that particular proverb TO most USAGES of ‘blood is thicker than water,’ which when you throw in the OTHER phrase, which in its entirety is “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” what you end up with is a lot of people SAYING that one when they actually MEAN to say ‘kin-blood is not spoiled by water’ and that’s where the meanings get switched. But I fucking digress. Per usual).

Anyway. So combine that particular pet peeve with my found family fixation AND the fact that this is about magic and magic means I can do whatever the hell I want, fuck your biological connections mwahahaha.....I decided to base shark magic on the idea of the blood-ties of family....but CHOSEN blood-ties, as in blood of the covenant ties.

What I mean is okay, so it first of all just made sense to me to have shark shifter communities be heavily focused around adoption, because like....let’s be real, shark shifters going around biting people to change them into shifters, and then people magically healing from....shark bites....was going to attract a lot more attention than people turning after being attacked by other types of shifters. Not to mention the fact that not only are shark attacks always big news, part of why they’re big news is because they’re actually pretty rare.

So, shark shifter communities were never really gonna propagate via lots of random shark shifter attacks turning people. So the way they DO expand and grow is by, well, family. Both biological AND adoption...as well as of course shark shifter communities taking in people who ARE attacked by rogue shark shifters, when that does happen. 

But bottom line is, there’s an additional element in play in shark shifter communities, beyond just the gene pool....and that’s like, a magical tidepool of talents, let’s call it. Because I do love me some alliteration. But also tidepool of talents is just a cool phrase, IMO.

Anyway, the main part of shark shifter magic, and how THEIR whole is greater than the sum of their parts, is that any shark shifter can draw upon or channel the talents, skillsets or knowledge of anyone else in their communal family. And whenever that family gets added to, the talents, skillsets and knowledge of the new addition gets added to the pot, so to speak. So shark shifters are kinda all like Rogue, if Rogue’s focus was less on the superpowers of other people and more on things like Beast’s scientific knowledge, Cyclops’ strategic skills or Cable’s weapons expertise.

And then their ‘passive magic’ is a form of psychometry whenever they come into contact with blood. By touching even just a drop of someone’s blood, they can get a vision of how that blood was spilled or even get a sense of where the person who spilled it is now.

As to the types of sharks and dolphins they all are, for that I went with the thing about the shape you take reflects the person you are.....all the shifters here are full shifters, and there’s no genetic component to their shifting, its purely magical, so like....just because Peter turned the various dolphins of BB doesn’t mean they all turn into the same kind of dolphin he was. In fact, I don’t even know what kind of dolphin he was on account of I don’t really care tbh, lol. Whereas Erica’s an Atlantic spotted dolphin, Liam’s a pygmy killer whale which looks like an orca just tiny in comparison and is actually a dolphin, and I found that combination of factors hilarious, etc, etc.

Same thing with the shark shifters. Even among biological relations, there’s a ton of variety of shark types. Like the twins aren’t even the same type...Ethan’s a blue shark and Aiden’s a bull shark, Tracy’s a tiger shark and Hayden’s an angel shark. Danny’s actually a throwback to an unnamed prehistoric shark, not Megalodon big but big enough to shut up Jackson when he goes on about being a great white shark. Shark and crocodile shifters are the two oldest shifter clans, old enough that literal dinosaurs fall under the umbrella of their shifter type, and thus occasionally show up even in modern generations.

[projectsoleil]

NOW STREAMING... MOON ROVER ADVENTURES S5EP18: THE SUNRISE FINALE | GABRIELLE MORNINGSTAR | CHAPTER 3 EXECUTION

Gabi finds himself in the arms of a couple people as the votes finish being counted, as his fate is decided. The hugs are returned as tightly as possible, clutching with every ounce of strength left in him, until the other person is shaking with him. When they pull away, he whispers thanks. 

(Being held is only reminding him of the arms of the few he wants nothing more than to be in right now—face buried in Abe's shoulder, hidden against his chest with his lips pressed to the crown of his head; the soothing touch of Pheo's damaged hands through his curls, soft whispers of assurance; the swirling heat of a hearth and the unwavering, unshaking, protective embrace of Gale. Gabi rubs the heel of his hand over the tears burning down his cheeks instead, head down, and casts his gaze to—)

(—Hawk?)

Hawk crashes to the floor in an awful thump, convulsing on the ground while Tyr’s expression remains one that wasn’t joy at the situation, rather, dread at what was coming next. From Hawk, their attention went to Gabi, who's pupils were shrunk, trembling.

[Mr. Morningstar...it’s time...]

Tyr approaches Gabi slowly and offers their nub to him, though instead of taking it, the young man scoops Tyr up into his arms, holding him like one would a toddler or cat. For another hug, or in hopes to keep him from shooting at anyone else? From AI-T's podium, Rover suddenly goes rigid, and looking more robot-like than he ever has, turns and starts walking stiffly towards them. The redheaded bot stops once they get to the usual spot by the wall, and Gabi turns to look at him momentarily. A hand is lifted, and albeit shaky, presses against the center of the star on Rover's chest. The door in the wall pulls open, and as they turn back to give the room one last look, Fenrir, who has been silently waiting, shoves his phone against Maxwell's chest, then along with Galehaut, jumps to attention—bolting towards them.

"Fuck all that! Fuck all this!" Galehaut shouts. "When I said on our own terms, I meant it! Moon, I'm not gonna let them—!"

As they quickly approach, Tyr offers a small apology to the one that held them in his arms...

[I am sorry, Mr. Morningstar.]

They raise their nub, and like with Hawk, out launches a small pod shaped object that latches onto both of them and sends a powerful shock through their bodies. 

Ah—Gabi grips Tyr tightly to his chest and makes a terrible, strangled sound as the two join Hawk on the floor. His gaze rips from them to stare wide-eyed and glossy at the rest of the room. He shakes his head a few times, backing up, backing up. Lips parted, like he's trying to say something, but his voice never reaches them—Rover steps between Gabi and the rest of you, obscuring the smaller body from view. The bot looks over his shoulder and gives the room an empty, dark, protective look, before the door slams shut, taking them away. 

A minute passes...two...three...until finally the screen lights up with the single message:

PLEASE ENJOY THE PRESENTATION WE HAVE PREPARED

before fading back to black.

[TW: DESCRIPTIONS OF BEING BEATEN, GORE] 

…

The lights dim, casting your cohort into a spill of long stretching shadows. There's a brief silence that follows, until a familiar, cheery theme song begins to chime through the room, growing in volume as the television screen flickers to life.

♫♪ i can reach all the stars in the sky with you by my side! ♪♫

The obnoxious tune of children singing is accompanied with a cartoon music video of what looks like a television show—shooting stars fall across the screen in a sparkly transition effect, opening up to the robot you’ve all grown familiar with over the course of the last month, cartoonified and walking around the moon to the beat of the song. 

♫♪ and if we don't make it today, we'll try, try, try again another day! ♪♫

He's decked out in his hero suit, grinning ear to ear at the audience, and begins leaping from the moon to another planet. It plays in this sort of loop, with Moon Rover marching on rotating planets, waving at passing cartoon versions of.. well, you! He passes by Fenrir and gives him two high-fives, Snapshot he hip-checks, waving at Zero Sum and Oleander on a water-themed planet, Angel they clang a wine glass with...

♫♪ so let's shoot for the stars, and hang out on the moon, and together we'll be anything, anything, anything we've ever wanted to be! ♪♫

It ends with Moon Rover landing on the Earth, joining the rest of the show's cast. Heroes and villains in dramatic poses, making up your full group, including Collin and Ivo hovering by the sides of the screen. 

Well... it includes everyone but one.

We zoom in on the cartoon Rover, who winks at the audience and gestures to follow him, before turning around into a transition. When the scene returns, we're joined with the real Rover, standing in what looks like the middle of the foyer of a massive house. He grins bright, wide, and opens his arms up to the viewers. 

“HEYY, STAR TROOP! ‘m so glad y’were able to tune in today!" 

He places his hands on his hips, leaning forward into the camera. 

“Y’ready for today’s mission? T’day we got somethin’ a little different — we’re takin’ a trip back t’my childhood home! Keheh—betcha thought I lived in a rocket, yeah? Nope! I came from a house, just like yours!” 

The hero beams at the audience and takes a step back, allowing the camera to sweep over the area better: yeah, he is in a foyer��the main entrance of a mansion—except, it’s as if someone has destroyed the place. Pictures are ripped from the wall, furniture toppled over--there’s areas that are just straight up blown up, holes broken through walls, the chandelier hanging slanted, too covered in char to glisten anymore, parts of the staircases caved in. Tire marks are burnt into the floor, the walls, the ceiling.   

There’s a 360 degree pan of the entrance, before it stops on Rover, where he’s gesturing to follow him again. He walks over broken wood and ash, until he gets to a form laying on the floor behind a fallen loveseat: bound at the wrists and ankles, Moon is trying to wiggle himself free.  

“Today we’ve got a suuuuper special guest!” He squats down next to Moon, grabbing a fistfull of his hair and pulling his head up off the floor. The boy winces, pieces of glass and dirt stuck into his cheeks. “The villain who hurt poor, poor Venus! An' subsequently hurt loads more through his choices! I already went ahead an' caught him, so, of course, all what's left is teachin' this no-good hooligan a lesson! Will you help me, Star Troop??"

There’s a blur of movement, and the binds on Moon’s hands and feet are cut—he immediately goes to scramble away, but with a simple step on the corner of his hoodie, he slams back to the ground. Nonchalantly, without hesitation or warning, Rover kicks Moon in the stomach—knocking him backwards in a cry.

Despite being kicked aside like a limp doll, Moon pushes himself up onto his elbows, grimacing, and begins crawling. Rover strolls slowly after him, easy and with a bounce to his step. When he reaches him, he bends down to grab the collar of his shirt, pick him up, and punch him directly in the jaw. It isn't pretty, the next seconds—if this were cinematic in any definition of the word, the moment would be done through silhouettes, the shadow of Rover pulling his arm back and bringing it down mercilessly into the smaller man's form, the ugly sounds of flesh being beaten being the only sense of how awful it is.

You don't get that pleasure. You see it all: no pretty cuts or dramatic angles to censor the boy's face splitting open, blood spilling up from fractured ribs into wet coughs, red splattering across Rover's hero costume. If anyone else was in his place, literally anyone else in the courtroom, this would be solved in an instant — a magma punch, a swipe of a sword, the crack of lightning, and this wouldn’t even be a fight. But Moon isn’t a hero. Not in the super-deep, metaphoric sort of way, but just that: Moon was a civilian. 

He’s dropped to the ground in a gross crack, whining, but moving regardless. He scrambles to his feet this time, using the help of a chair thrown on its side. He runs. He isn’t fast, especially now with his hand clutched to his chest, wheezing, but he runs… not to the front door like you’d expect, but deeper into the mansion. Rover walks behind him, chatting to the audience, you suppose, but now you’re following Moon. 

A door is flug open, and he staggers into a huge workshop. For someone who is frequently found scrawling on his arms to organize roaring thoughts and ideas, the place is surprisingly spotless, orgazined: filled with tools and kilns and forges and anvils. Computer software you know costs millions just by the sight. The young man’s eyes dart desperately around the room, and he makes a bee-line for the back wall full of displayed gear. A weapon? Is he looking for something to use? He grabs a pair of gauntlets first, something similar to Galehaut’s color scheme, before throwing them on the ground. A pair of yellow lense goggles—no. A botched looking race car—no. A pair of motorized wheelies—no. Equipment, equipment, equipment! He didn’t make weapons! He didn’t— 

“Found ya!” 

—whack!— 

Something whizzes past Moon’s head, smacking his hand away from the wall in the process. He turns around, and a small, helicopter-like birdbot is hovering in the air in front of him. Moon blinks, and then the bird shoots forward, whacking him a few more times in the head. It looks less like it hurts, and more like it’s just a distraction. The boy stumbles to the side, tripping over a small dogbot waddling by his feet. He crashes into the wall, and an array of different gear topples over.

It’s more pathetic than tragic, watching his own work fall on his head. He collapses under the weight, but ever-stubborn, ever-determined, ever-unbreakable, Moon whines and pushes his way out, tries to get to his feet once, fails, twice, fails again, and on the third—

—on the third, a red hand snaps forward and grips his throat, pulls him free, and dangles him up into the air, grinning widely. 

“Didn’t think y’could run, didja? Y’know, people want y’blood! They voted for it! Y’think I could let down the Star Troop now?? After how badly ya did?? They need someone they can trust, afterall!”

Moon grips Rover’s forearm with both his hands, clawing weakly at his gloves. The tips of his toes can just barely reach the pile of gear beneath him, so he’s at the very least got a bit of footing. Not that it matters—it’s no use, of course it’s no use—Moon reaches out to push at his bot’s face, push him away, do anything, anything— ah, wait? No.. he’s.. 

With a trembling hand, Moon sinks three of his fingers into the back of Rover’s head, prompting a hatch to pull away and open up in his chest, exposing a variety of wires and a pinpad. Rover doesn’t seem concerned, just keeps on holding Moon by the neck, even as the blonde starts fumbling a code in the pad.

He's dying. A small red button opens up between all the switches and buttons in Rover’s chest, and Moon's frantic, desperate reaching for the button slows down considerably. Really, it's kind of anti-climatic for a death, nevermind a supposed fantastical execution. Maybe that was what Moon deserved, though — something quiet, uneventful, alone. 

Click! 

...Just kidding! He presses the button. Rover’s grip falls away immediately, dropping Moon in a heap on the floor and leaving him doubled over, gasping and coughing, gulping down air like he'd been drowning. In front of him, Rover’s expression seems frozen, and his body begins… going limp? No, no.. it almost looks like he’s.. shutting down? A second later, Rover has joined Moon on his knees in front of him, his smile frozen, his shoulders slumping, his right eye flashing red. His right eye flashing red.. slowly. 

“...keh..” 

There is hardly any distance between the two, but when Moon pushes himself up and wraps his arms around his robot, hooking his chin on his shoulder, the effort looks akin to dragging your hands down a wall of glass shards. 

“...’bout.. time we wrapped this up, huh?” His voice would’ve been impossible to hear had this not been meant for entertainment — hoarse, whisper-quiet.

The sentence seems to, somehow, despite the red light increasing in speed, prompt a corrupt, laggy voice to start speaking: “..S-S-SHOOT FOR THE STARS—!” 

“—even.. if y’miss..” 

Moon grabs fistfulls of the back of Rover’s suit, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“..you’ll land on the—!”

…

…

[♫♪♫♪♫♪] 

The screen blacks out, rattling — the sound from the speakers blowing out from sheer force of the explosion. You… you feel like you should feel it in the courtroom—the floor shaking and rumbling beneath you, but you don’t. Somehow, it makes it feel more empty. More far away. 

As the scene settles, the dust and smoke beginning to clear, you notice blood splattered on the lense of the camera—blurred and out of focus, but unmistakably blood. Debris and metal parts are scattered everywhere, wires twisted and still burning like lit fuses. Something drips from the ceiling, and you're unsure if it's blood or a combination of that and flesh. But more importantly, you see the remains of a human body — the parts you'd never want to see; splintered bone, limbs still stuck in clothes, a head in the corner of the scene, blonde hair smoking, lulling on the slanted floor, and what you catch sight of his face is burnt through to the inside of his mouth, burnt through to his skull.

He looks like he was screaming, and though you know he wasn't in his last moments, this image will likely be the thing you remember when you think of him.

...

Life is continuous. 

Tonight, the sky will finish clearing the storm and the moon will glow across the horizon like it has every other night, and how it will continue to shine for every other night after this. For nothing has really changed—and that's the bonus of playing a stage hero robot that could be replicated, right? Built on? Upgraded? For years and years and years to come, beyond your short life, he can still do something amazing without you. 

Yeah, the world will keep going on without you. 

You wanted that.

(Didn't you?) 

[Gabrielle & Rover Morningstar have been executed.] 

(thank you han for the art!)

[panpytaked]

A little ficlet for @gale-of-the-nomads Queen bee’s city au that has literally no point but I wanted to write it down

~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you MEAN there are people that ship Stinger with Queen Bee?!” Chloé exclaimed at the lunch table as Derek choked on his water, trying to hide it by putting his head down. Both stared at Gabby, who sat in front of them with a confused expression on her face.

“Um.... Do you guys even LOOK at the comments on the BuzzBlog?” She asked as she showed them the screen of her phone, opening a random section of comments. “Literally, all you have to do is look!”

And look they did. Varying levels of distress on their faces as they read the comments about thier hero identities. Comments on how cute they were together, how there was obviously some chemistry and even a few talking about how Stinger looked at her when she wasn’t looking (which Chloé could tell he was denying when she looked at him and he glared back) and vise versa.

But there were a few fans who would rather ship themselves with the hero and heroine. Derek could already hear Chloé’s rant later on about how she was ‘too good’ for anyone in this city and they’d be lucky if she’d give any of them a chance. He, however, felt a little flattered. He idly wondered what about him was attractive to the fans when he was in the suit.

Gabby took her phone back, looking amused at the two. “Don’t tell me...” She said and then gasped. “Chloé! I didn’t think he was your type! But you got a thing for heroes, huh?” Gabby winked and Derek swore he never saw a more horrified/disgusted look on his partner’s face. He must’ve looked amused at her pain because Gabby started on him without giving Chloé a chance to defend herself. “You think you’re innocent, Mr. Dalvir? I think I should warn Melody to watch out for the Queen of competition,” He wanted to die.

Over the course of the next four minutes, Gabby could hear her friends sputter to correct her. They talked over one another, studdering over thier words and even telling the other to shut up so Gabby can hear them. But she never did. The conversation was hard to keep up with but nevertheless she looked amused.

“Chill out, I’m teasing,” She finally said, trying to calm them down. “But that gives me an idea for a poll on the BuzzBlog! Who would you date? Queen Bee or Stinger?”

——————————

“Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” Chloé finished as she fell on the bed, sitting with her arms crossed and a pout as Derek rolled his eyes and made a bit more space for her dramatic ass, continuing to shuffle through Netflix.

“Speaking of ridiculous, which horrible teen movie do you wanna watch?” He asked as he reclined back, throwing the remote on her lap as he laid back and closed his eyes. “I’m bored,” He could feel her glaring at him but he didn’t open his eyes. It was quiet for a moment longer before she groaned, realizing he wasn’t about to look at her without incentive.

“Literally nobody in this city has taste. Even if I didn’t know who Stinger was, I wouldn’t date him!” She’s been going off for 10 minutes. Two minutes in, he wanted to argue that he was actually an amazing catch and she’d be lucky if he gave her a chance. However, he thought against it. He wouldn’t date Queen Bee even if he didn’t know who was under the mask either.

“You say him like he’s not in the room,” He said as he looked at her with a smirk on his lips. “Besides, Stinger is obviously attractive to some people. He doesn’t need your approval,” He said, his obnoxious smirk growing as she glared at him.

“I hate you,”

“Wow. You almost made me care,” He said, his voice not giving any indication that were true. “By the way, I should be leaving,”

“And leave me to do the homework myself?” She asked and he rolled his eyes.

“That’s what you’re supposed to do,” He put his book bag on.

“I’m not stupid,”

“Then don’t act stupid,” Derek said.

“Go awayyyyyy,” She groaned out and Derek smiled.

“Alright fine. See you later?” He asked and she sighed. She almost forgot about going out. “Come on, Ladybug doesn’t skip out on her patrols...”

“Untrue! I’ve seen that cat walking around Paris himself before!”

“Yeah? Well stingers can’t exist without bees,” He said and Chloé let out an exhale.

“Fine...”

“See you later,” He said, leaving her room and shitting the door behind him. And suddenly it was too quiet. She hated being left alone. Usually in Paris, she had Sabrina or Adrien to talk to. Sabrina was at least always there. And if all else failed, her butler always made her feel better.

Now she was in New York with her mother. Who was currently not at home. Should she call someone? Would that be desperate? Sure, if she called Gabby she wouldn’t know Derek was literally just there but she’d feel like she was desperate for attention.

In the end, she went on the BuzzBlog, looking at the shitshow Gabby pointed out to them today and seeing the poll already posted. She raised an eyebrow as she saw Queen Bee being only a couple votes ahead of Stinger. The people of New York may have taste after all. She looked on to discoverer Gabby’s posts. Pictures of them fighting crime, links to some Queen Bee or Stinger merchandise (few but people still loved to make it.). And then links to a fan fiction website. She knew that most contained fan stories written about herself and Stinger. She never read it but Derek admitted to reading one.

He claimed curiosity and told her there were stories that had them kissing or cuddling and shit like that. He said there were stories that had one of them dying (which gave him a heart attack but he never told her that). And then stories of... less innocent kissing. Well, he said sex but she really really doesn’t want to say the word. She remembered feeling her face heating at the time and Derek looked amused at her embarrassment. “Oh geez, is every teen in Paris big babies?”

She skipped the links to them but read the summaries sometimes. But it seemed even the summaries could embarrass her. Her face was warm again. She decided that was enough. She grabbed her bear and went to sleep.

——————————

Literally my first okay work for Miraculous Ladybug. And it’s me being embarrassing about gale’s au. I don’t like the end but I didn’t exactly have an end planned so this is it

[pass-the-bechdel]

Marvel Cinematic Universe: Ant-Man (2015)

Does it pass the Bechdel Test?

Yes, once.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Four (22.22% of cast).

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Fourteen.

Positive Content Rating:

Three.

General Film Quality:

It’s delightful. 

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:

Passing the Bechdel:

Maggie passes with Cassie as she puts her to bed.

Female characters:

Peggy Carter.

Hope Van Dyne.

Cassie.

Maggie.

Male characters:

Howard Stark.

Hank Pym.

Scott Lang.

Peachy.

Luis.

Dale.

Kurt.

Dave.

Darren Cross.

Frank.

Paxton.

Gale.

Mitchell Carson.

Sam Wilson.

OTHER NOTES:

Dave calls Scott a pussy, and Scott is not fussed at all about accepting the attempted insult.

Ah, the old ‘wish you’d call me dad’ cliche, the most worn-out lazy way to establish an antagonistic parent/child relationship. 

“a sustainable environment of well-being”, what an excellent fascist euphemism.

Maggie is very reasonable with Scott about the conditions for seeing Cassie; it’s refreshing to not have this played as ‘harpy ex-wife refuses to let man see his child because she’s just the worst!’ Maggie has a child to look after - and has been doing so for years now while Scott was in jail - and she has every right to impose rules on how things proceed, Scott doesn’t get to just march in and have things his way ‘because she’s my daughter!’ Children are not possessions or status symbols, and this movie does a nice job of recognising that and having the adult characters recognise that and behave in reasonable and understanding ways for Cassie’s benefit rather than their own egos. Other films should take note. Also, real people.

“Yeah man, it killed DiCaprio.”

Turning lambs into goo is worse than kicking puppies. What a monster.

They do a pretty solid job with the reason for Hope not being allowed to don the suit instead. It has strong potential for seeming like flat-out sexism, the idea that a woman can’t get the job done (in universe) and that a female hero won’t sell (out universe), and while that may indeed still be the core reason, they still pull off the reasoning as if it’s genuine.

Pym’s excuse for why he never told Hope the truth about her mother’s death, on the other hand, is pretty fuckin’ weak. Tell people to stop pretending ‘I was trying to protect you’ is a reasonable explanation for lies. It’s super-high - easily Top 5 - on my list of Worst and Most Tedious Cliche Lines.

Kurt suggests that the suit is the work of gypsies and it’s...not the best line they could have picked. Something less racist instead, maybe? No?

Cross is really fixated on Pym as a father figure. It’s different. I like different.

“That’s a messed-up looking dog.”

Scott and Paxton making peace is so great. Paxton peeing in all the corners and Scott being all jealous and threatened by Paxton ‘usurping his place in the family’ would have been such a predictable cliche for them to use, and this very palatable mature adult behaviour is sooo much better. This is how you stop normalising petty possessive rivalries. 

Luis is magical, and also, mad cultured. I love it, but I love even more that they don’t hang a lantern on it, they just let it be part of his character.

Ok, I confess, this is probably gonna be a weird sort of meandering review, because I’ve had this post sitting in my drafts for two months gathering dust while I deal with the mental and physical fatigue of the first trimester of a pregnancy (it’s FUN), and now the due date for this post (pun definitely intended) is right on the horizon, so...I’m just gonna get it done, and it’ll be whatever the heck it is in the end. This is not a complex film filled with deep nuance, it’s basically just an action-y heist movie with some hand-waved scifi on top. And there’s ants. It’s not a hard film to talk about, so you’ll excuse me if it doesn’t get my very best effort. I’m kinda busy growing a human over here.

I remember a lot of grumbling and even some outrage in fandom, back when this film was announced; a lot of people upset that the MCU was bringing in a comparatively little-known and perhaps little-loved superhero like Ant-Man when they still hadn’t bothered with a single female-led film yet, and various complaints about the problematic nature of the Ant-Man character from the comics (referring, I believe, to the Hank Pym version). And then, of course, there was the doubt about whether or not an Ant-Man story was just a fucking idiotic idea in the first place, what with the questionable application of science and the even more questionable appeal of a tiny little man running around playing with ants. Expectations were not high. And yet, Ant-Man pulls through, not just with a great fun romp, but with what I consider one of the more entertaining films the MCU has churned out to date.

I have made my fair share of sour comments about previous films in the MCU and their unimaginative paint-by-numbers plots, and so what I’d like to talk about with Ant-Man is how it manages to be such a success to me despite an essentially uncomplicated story that follows a predictable narrative arc the likes of which we’ve all seen a hundred times before. The basic tenets of a heist movie are all there; the basic tenets of a good vs evil story play straight, alongside a low-key but typical redemption plot, and some plight-of-the-regular-guy vs corporate greed and warmongering, and the leading man hooks up with the leading lady in the end and proves himself as a hero to his family and all that jazz. We know every one of these story and character beats. So. Why do they work?

Let me back this up a second to talk about a couple of major-league pet peeves of mine, the one a microcosmic version of the other: firstly, when people say ‘all Marvel films are basically the same’, and secondly, the Advanced Level Faux-Intellectual Douche version of that sentiment, when people declare that ‘there’s no such thing as originality anymore! There are only seven types of story in the world anyway! Everything is derivative!’ It’s an obnoxious absence of a viewpoint that betrays a lack of imagination and a use of such broad-strokes surface-level comprehension as to be essentially meaningless. Sure, if you break down story concepts to their most fundamental core drives, you can summarise their arcs in a relatively small number of ways, and familiarity with these core concepts can provide a degree of predictability in the way things play out. But that doesn’t mean that every single version of, say, the classic Hero’s Journey is the same damn story, and therefore a useless derivation from which no entertainment or message can be gleaned. If someone asks you to tell them the plot of a movie and you just go ‘oh, it’s a Hero’s Journey’ and leave it at that, you’ve told them almost nothing about what to actually expect. The Matrix is a very, very different Hero’s Journey to The Lord of the Rings, which is a very different Hero’s Journey to Finding Nemo, which is not at all the same as Iron Man. And which of them is closest to The Odyssey, anyway? One of the most obvious differences with all of those examples is genre, and the traditional trappings which often (but not always) follow from them. Sure, the MCU films tend to all fit superhero-comic genre conventions, and some of them (particularly origin stories, as with Iron Man and Thor) may employ a lot of the same tropes while they’re at it. But does anyone really, genuinely think that Ant-Man is ‘basically the same’ as Captain America: The First Avenger? Is Guardians of the Galaxy almost indistinguishable from Black Panther? Does anyone who says ‘Marvel movies are all basically the same’ actually believe the words out of their own mouth, or do they just hope it makes them sound smart if they imply that they’re ‘above’ enjoying mainstream popcorn action?

All of this is to say, what makes Ant-Man work where other trope-heavy films fall apart? The same thing that makes literally any story ever work, and be worthwhile, whether it ‘breaks barriers’ or ‘teaches something’ or is considered ‘high art’ or not: details. Some films are too light on details, which makes them boring because they never really bother to build anything on top of those core foundations we know so well. Sometimes, the details - numerous as they might be - are too generic to have an impact, and the dull result is the same. Sometimes the details are too absurd to land, or there are too many to keep track of, or they require too much extraneous qualification to fit into the flow of the rest of the story, or they’re irrelevant to the rest of the story anyway. The thing about details? There are countless options. People come up with new ideas all the time, through the exercise of imagination or through developments and innovations in the real world. Basic, core plot arcs may be distilled to a handful of options, but story details are limitless, and the possibility of fun new combinations is always there, whether you’re inventing something entirely never-before-seen or not. The idea that you have to be shocking and unexpected to be worthwhile is ridiculous, and shepherds illogical contrivances and gimmicks without narrative cohesion or purpose much more often than it achieves something genuinely surprising with merit (and storytelling that prioritises ‘shocking twists’ is usually so busy trying to look clever it forgets to actually be clever, but, that’s another conversation). The point is, Ant-Man being a delightful film isn’t rocket science. It’s as simple as just a little forethought in the construction of its details.

As noted back near the top, the whole Ant-Man concept and its wobbly science was something that drew some doubt regarding whether or not it could be pulled off in a convincing manner; the solution to achieving that is to do more than just lean in to the idea. The film throws itself whole-heartedly into its core conceit and its tropes, and it drags us along with it to gleefully delight in the act. The story is not embarrassed by itself, it doesn’t try to keep its distance; instead, it gives us a flying ant named Antony, and a dramatic death scene for that ant. What is the point of the Pym particle science conceit if we don’t enjoy the comedic potential of an epic battle inside a briefcase, or on a child’s train set? Relevant to this also is the subject of casting choices (as much a detail-of-interest as anything; a single casting choice can legitimately make or break a film). Paul Rudd has a perfect blend of leading-man charisma and affable comedic chops; he plays Scott as a beta-personality, which is always a refreshing change-up for a lead, and one which invites other refreshing changes around him. It avoids tedious masculine antics in his interactions with other men, while encouraging balanced and respectful interactions with women; Scott never asserts himself as the boss or leader in his relationship with Luis and the rest of his crew, allowing for a smoothly-cooperative dynamic; no time or plot is wasted on pointless jostling for control of the operation with Pym; the idea that Scott needs to prove himself to the three female characters in his life - Hope, Maggie, and Cassie, each for similar but different reasons - is given legitimate weight, instead of implying that Scott and his perspective is inherently superior and correct and the onus is on the other characters to realise that, rather than being on him to live up to other people’s reasonable expectations. It should come as no surprise that the latter element is especially interesting and heartening in the context of this blog.

This is particularly good news when it comes to the kinds of relatively minor details which can make a huge difference in whether or not one reflects on a film in a positive or negative manner; the fact that the narrative supports and validates Hope’s anger, her frustration and resentment and her all-business-no-fun attitude, is vital to keeping a viewer like myself on-side with the film. Hope is never presented as someone who should ‘just loosen up’, or ‘have faith in her father’s plan’, the fact that she is denied the Ant-Man technology because Pym ‘can’t bare to risk losing her’ is offered as a reason but not as an excuse for something deeply patronising, and Scott proving that he can get the job done despite Hope’s misgivings about him is not framed as her being ‘wrong’ - her concerns were legitimate, as all her emotions across the film are, and the story never compromises on that in order to bolster another character. Whether or not Hope is well-handled is not important to the operation of the central narrative plot in a technical sense, but it means a lot in terms of delivering strong characters with satisfying arcs, and a central plot can easily fall flat if the characters participating in it don’t work well, individually or together.

I’m trying to wrap this up coherently, but it’s just as well that I disclaimered myself in the beginning because all I’ve got are frayed pieces of, probably, five other paragraphs I could waffle about. It’s not a complex film, no, but it has a surprising amount of quality details, the more I think about it, even regarding aspects of the movie that I liked less than others (Pym, for example, I did not love, but I like that the movie never tried to pass off his ‘genius’ as an excuse for him being a significantly flawed figure in the lives of most people who encountered him, often with bitter consequences. I’m also a big fan of the fact that both he and Scott have complicated but loving relationships with their daughters, considering that Hollywood has a hyper-obsession with the idea of ‘A Man And His Son’ as the beating heart of family narratives). I’m going to close this out with what may be my personal favourite refreshing detail of this movie, and that’s the mature adult relationship between Scott, Maggie, and Paxton. I mentioned it already in the notes, but honestly, how many times have we seen that toxic cliche, with the shrewish ex-wife and the terrible new man in her life, where the main character (who is Doing His Best!) has to prove through [insert plot heroics] that ex-wife is WRONG and should have stayed with him, the father of her child(ren), because did we mention, her new man is terrible and the main character is always right and good and better! In the end, ex-wife almost certainly leaves her terrible new man to get back together with the main character, because he is Doing His Best and that’s more important than actually being a stable/responsible person! The American nuclear family is the ideal! Divorce is for heathens! Y’all know that toxic plot. I can think of three different examples of it in action right off the top of my head, with no effort required. Point is, the degree to which I was utterly thrilled by this movie subverting cliche at every turn of its family saga really cannot be overstated. Maggie is a reasonable person! Scott respects that Cassie’s needs are more important than his wants! Paxton cares about his family and genuinely wants Scott to land on his feet, for the benefit of everyone! There’s no jealous posturing and Scott acting all hurt about being ‘replaced’! HE LITERALLY THANKS PAXTON FOR EVERYTHING HE DOES, WHEN HAVE I EVER SEEN THAT BEFORE?! Honestly, you don’t have to tell the most original story in the world to tell a story that resonates. You don’t even have to avoid common tropes, you just have to think about what you want to do with them. It’s not rocket science. It’s just good honest storytelling.

With ants.

[litlifelover]

DESTINY UNDER CONSTRUCTION - CHAPTER 2

A/N: Well, this took a while. Sorry for the long wait, my friends. Real life and no inspiration and all that shit ... you know how life is, therefore I spare you all the gory details and simply hope you'll enjoy this second part of Everlark's painful journey to their happily ever after. You're in for a ride, guys! ;)

Many, many thanks to wonderful @xerxia31 for edits and suggestions ... and for making me remember that there's still a story out there for me to finish. Thank you, hon! Really, I would be totally lost without you.

For all of you who missed Chapter 1, or simply want to refresh their memory (it's eons since I posted that first part, geez!), here's the LINK.

Enough of the talking, you're here to read. Don't let me keep you. ;)

Hope you enjoy, let me know your thoughts.

Love, Lit

Read on AO3

DESTINY UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Chapter 2 - Tuesday, the Bitch

Tuesday is a bitch.

I mean, literally. Tuesday is the biggest asshole of the seven sisters of the week. She constantly envies Sunday for being the youngest (and prettiest, but nobody is bold enough to tell her that to the face) but on the other hand rules like a dictator over her younger siblings. Only Monday has a little control over her, but that's simply because she's the actual firstborn.

While most of the time Monday is pretty decent, giving people time to adjust to the new week, Tuesday loves to torture them. Ever wondered why the phone never stops ringing as soon as your Tuesday workday starts?

Tuesday is also constantly on diet, therefore whenever she gets the chance, she makes you miss lunch.

And TV? Man, she has the worst taste ever. I mean American Idol? What season are they on now, thirty-seven or something?

What. The actual. Fuck?!

Also, things we know that happened on a Tuesday:

The Wall Street Crash was on October 29th, 1929. It's known as Black Tuesday.

Christmas nearly never falls on a Tuesday; it's more likely on any other day of the week.

Elvis died on a Tuesday.

I wonder if you'd hear brain activity when you put her on an EEG. Probably not, because when Big Deity, or God, or Allah, or however you want to call the Almighty, gave out brains, Tuesday was shopping for shoes or some other shit. When it comes to her, that blonde hotel heiress bimbo seems like the next Einstein.

Oh, and don't let me get started on that annoying sound that's her voice. She constantly sounds like squeaking tires, for fuck's sake.

Do I need to continue? I'm quite sure you get the picture I'm drawing here. You can probably guess, there's no love lost between me and her.

So of course my idiot brother screws her.

"Don't be mean," he keeps telling me. "She can bend like a pretzel!"

Therefore it was very, very, very unfortunate that I had to ask a favor from her. I would rather have pulled my nails off, seriously.

But let's start from the beginning.

After the failed attempt to finally bring the destined souls of Katniss and Peeta together, I promised myself I’d work this out as fast as possible. So, Rogue and I sat down and started research. Yes, boring, I know. But we have to check out backgrounds and stuff like that just the same, to be prepared for what's to do and what's to come.

Well, Rogue does it mostly because he's a nosy bastard, but whatev.

Because neither Katniss or Peeta are spies or any other protected identity, we figured out their backgrounds pretty quickly.

In corner no. 1: Peeta Mellark, nearly thirty, single. He is co-owner of Mellark's Bakery & Bistro, which he founded together with his older brother Ryeland. He drinks his tea with no sugar, always double knots his shoelaces, works out regularly, is a part-time artist. He's also kind, funny and considerate. Volunteers every other Saturday at the youth center, and donates leftovers from his business to the food bank.

All in all he's a goody two shoes with killer abs and a pretty smile. He keeps his honey blonde hair short and sometimes forgets to shave, which accentuates his chiseled jaw perfectly. To top it off, I never saw a man with prettier eyelashes than Peeta Mellark. So, all in all the whole man is very swoon worthy.

In the other corner: Katniss Everdeen, also nearly thirty, also single. After her father died, her mother fell victim to a deep depression and was unable to care for her children. Thankfully, her godfather - one of her father's best friends - and his wife, Haymitch and Effie Abernathy, stepped in. They took custody of Katniss and her sister, Primrose. After finishing college with a business degree, Katniss joined the firm her father and his two best friends had started: AEH Plumbing Co. She decided to learn the trade from scratch.

She works out three times a week, together with her best friend and coworker, Gale Hawthorne. Who - as we found out at that point - is the male part of strawberry red couple. The circle closes.

She's loyal to the bone; sometimes seems rude and offensive, when she's really just straightforward and honest.

With her near ebony hair, silver eyes and olive complexion, paired with her no-shit attitude, Katniss has an effect on people, but isn't aware of it.

At this point Rogue decided we were done with research.

"Background check-ups get boring so fast, Des," he whined while twirling around in the swivel chair of my home office. "Let's start working on them meeting!"

I rolled my eyes at him, writing down another information I got on my fatees (Katniss: slightly allergic to pomegranates). "Research is important, twerp!"

He ignored me and continued his pirouettes with the chair.

When he suddenly jumped up, it was only in the last second I was able to hold onto the table in front of me before falling out of my own chair. Grabbing my upper arms he started to shake me, nearly giving me a concussion.

"I've got it!" he screamed full of excitement, making my ears ring. "You're gonna love it!"

I was sure I was gonna hate it.

"We're gonna make his pipe burst!"

Jesus Fucking Christ?! Was he serious?! I was right, I hated the idea.

xXx

Half an hour later - and after explaining that his first blurt was actually not any kind of sexual innuendo for once - I had to admit that my brother's plan had some potential.

(For whatever reason he started to refer to it as Project Everlark.)

Step 1: Arrange for both businesses to have an extra slow day.

Step 2: Make the pipe in Peeta's business kitchen burst.

Step 3: Manipulate the Yellow Pages so AEH Plumbing Co. is the first one to appear.

Step 4: Make sure Katniss will respond to the emergency call and be there ASAP.

Step 5: Watch Everlark overcome all obstacles and join in blissful happiness for all eternity.

Easy as pie, right?

Wrong! Because after some more research we realized the slowest day for both was surprisingly the second one of the week. And that was where obnoxious Tuesday had to come into the picture.

First I tried to shift the responsibility for that onto Rogue; sweet-talk her vagina into cooperating or something to this regard. But it took not even 24 hours for my brother to dash my hopes of not having to encounter the devil's spawn.

"Told me you have to ask her yourself," he muttered around a mouthful of doner kebab, sauce dripping from the corner of his mouth onto his black shirt. Sometimes he really acts like a disgusting pig.

"How can you fuck her?! That bitch is such a nuisance. Wouldn't be surprised if she had all kind of kinks. Does she like to be peed on or some other shit?" I deadpanned, but Rogue just shrugged and continued to devour his lunch. Rolling my eyes at him, I turned to the door to get that annoying hurdle out of the way, my insides simmering with suppressed anger.

To top the unsavory circumstance of having to kowtow, I actually had to visit Week's Wonderful Wellness World. It's the business the sisters spend time at when they're not busy with their appointed day.

I'd rather watch grass grow.

(Okay, I admit, Thursday is a genius when it comes to manicures, really, and nobody gets a waxing done like Saturday. But still …)

I arrived twenty minutes later and the bitch made me wait another twenty for her. When she finally stepped into the entrance area of WWWW I was two seconds away from erupting into Special Effects and shorten the week to six days.

"Dee-dee!" she exclaimed in her fake squeaky-tires-voice and that damn nickname she always addressed me with, grabbed me and air kissed my cheeks. "Friday just told me this moment you're waiting out here, else I would have come right away, of course."

"Of course." The hiss escaping me sounded like a rattlesnake, but I was fast to clear my throat and continue semi-nice, "If you've got a minute, there's a business matter I'd like to discuss with you."

"I'm all ears," she purred, her eyes gleaming viciously, nearly elated, because she knew I had to ask a favor from her. Stupid cow!

"You see …" I started and explained the situation to her, although I was quite sure Rogue already told enough for her to get the picture.

When I had finished I could have sworn for a second her eyes flashed red, her lips turning into a patronizing smirk. It took everything I had in me to keep seated and not jump over the small table between us to strangle her with her own, badly made, extensions.

"So," she drew the word out like bubblegum, hands and knees crossed, and looking downright diabolic. "If I see this correctly - and I'm always seeing stuff correctly - you want me to interfere with the schedules of those two individuals so no one else interferes there? Interesting."

That bitch would make me crawl on my knees to beg for her help, I knew it.

And somewhen, somewhere - when nobody would ever expect it - I would make her pay for that.

xXx

Tuesday and I came to an understanding. The second day of the following week she would keep both businesses suspiciously quiet.

What the promise of front row seats of whatever in-designer she named at New York Fashion Week and a pair of Louboutin's newest shoe collection can do is baffling. I owe Cousin Beau big.

Step 1 had been completed, so the following days were spent with planning, arranging and trying to get every possible angle covered. Rogue was, to my surprise, completely invested into the scheme. As soon as research stopped he plunged into Everlark's Meet Cute.

Tuesday - the actual day - arrived faster than we anticipated. My brother and I decided to overlook one fatee each. Therefore I was at Katniss' place of work at the moment, waiting for the call from Mellark's Bakery & Bistro, while he took position with Peeta and his brother Rye.

"It's suspiciously quiet today," Gale muttered at that moment, his head buried somewhere in the depths of a shelf, sorting through various supplies.

"Geez, Gale!" Katniss glared at him, looking up from the book she was reading. Her feet were crossed on the desk in front of her while one finger absentmindedly twirled the end of her braid around. "Now you tempted fate."

Ha! If only you knew …

I felt the familiar giddiness rising within me whenever one of my schemes was about to play out. A second later Rogue sent me the mental "Go", and with a snap of my fingers Gale had the urgent need to visit the bathroom just as the phone started to ring.

"See?" she grumbled after him, glaring at his retreating back.

With her partner indisposed, Katniss marked the page in her book, planted her feet back on the ground and grabbed the phone.

"AEH Plumbing, Katniss speaking. How may I help you?"

Being a deity has its perks, let me tell you. Like right now, when I wouldn't miss the other side of the conversation but simply could hear in with another snip of my fingers.

"Oh, hi. Hi Katniss," came the immediate response. "This is Peeta Mellark from Mellark's Bakery & Bistro. How are you this fine afternoon? It seems we have a little situation here at the shop were we'd need your help as soon as possible. You don't happen to have a free slot at the moment, do you?" His voice was in full charm-mode, even I fell a little bit for it. This guy was really good, silver-tongued and confident and enchanting.

It made Katniss smile a little, and her forest green actually faded into a lighter shade. Only from talking! "Well, Mr. Mellark-"

"Peeta," he interrupted. "Just Peeta. Mr. Mellark makes me think of my father." He sounded like he was smiling when he said that.

Katniss chuckled. "Okay, Just Peeta. You're in luck, we have a slow day here. What's the problem?"

"My pipe burst and now the kitchen is flooded."

He said it so matter of factly, I could tell by the way she bit down on her bottom lip she had to hold back a bark of laughter. A flooded kitchen wasn't something to laugh about after all.

"I can see why this is kinda an emergency," Katniss answered instead, at the same time grabbing a pen and a piece of paper. "One important thing first: Did you turn off the main water-tap already?"

This was followed by a couple seconds of silence, before a muffled call was heard. "Rye! Run into the basement and turn off the main water-tap!" Some rustling and Peeta was back talking to Katniss. "Man, I feel really stupid right now."

Katniss laughed out loud at that. "Don't," she reassured in between chuckles. "These are exceptional circumstances, and the most logical things often don't come to mind right away. Give me the address and I'll be there as fast as I can."

Peeta gave her the details and after profuse thanks from his side and a little giggle and another promise to hurry from her's, they hung up and Katniss started to organise the things she would need for the repairs.

Her forest green soul-color was nearly invisible, and my inner warrior queen screamed in triumph. I loved when plans worked out!

Being totally engrossed in self-praise, I missed Gale stepping back into the office, whistling the Indiana Jones theme. Only when he stopped in surprise after discovering the not so small smile on his best friend's face, did I register his presence. "You look like … wait, how's the saying? Something with the cat and the canary. Or was it whipped cream? Whatev. You look like a freakin' cat who got the canary which rolled around in whipping cream to make dessert."

Katniss paused the packing and looked up, scowl back in place. "What?!"

"You're smiling like a goof, Kat. You never do that. What happened?"

Okay, this was inconvenient, her forest green got a little intenser again. Gale Hawthorne stole all her magic mojo, and I couldn't just watch and let him ruin all my efforts. Once again I snapped my fingers and the phone rang again. Katniss grabbed the keys from one of their working trucks, her cell and the couple supplies she gathered, and mentioned to Gale that she was heading out, which he simply acknowledged with a nod while picking up the phone.

Phew, another crisis averted. Yay me!

I spent the journey over to Mellark's sitting on the roof of the working truck and singing along to The Winner Takes It All, cutting off all my mental connections to simply enjoy my moment of victory. Man, I was a freakin' genius. Coming up with this plan was some really nice work … okay, with a little help from my idiot brother. Even I could admit that. Reluctantly.

The drive took about 20 minutes, and because I was impatient to fulfill my calling, to join the destined souls, to … yadda, yadda, yadda … Katniss mysteriously caught a parking spot right in front of the shop.

Love me my finger snips, wrist bends and blinkings. They really come in handy in situations like these, you have no idea.

After gathering all her things, Katniss exited the car and walked over to the entrance with a visible spring in her step. Even her soul-color sizzled, splashes of orange already flickering up.

"Hello?" I heard her calling into the room as soon as the ringing of the little bell above the door had stopped. Even in that single word was a hint of excitement noticeable.

Just you wait, Missy, I tought. You'll be in for the surprise of your life.

"One moment, please!" the answering call came from the back, and suddenly everything within me froze.

That voice …

"What the fuck?!" I whispered to myself just as the swinging door to the kitchen was pushed open and instead of Peeta Mellark his brother Rye stepped into the shopfront.

His applegreen soul-color brother!

"Hey, I tried to warn you, but you had to cut our mental connection," Rogue chose this moment to deadpan. "Not going to take any blame for this one."

"What the fuck?!" I repeated, still completely flabbergasted, while I had to watch Rye Mellark's applegreen clashing nicely with Katniss' again very intense forest green. No traces of orange left. The shock sat so deep in my bones, I couldn't even follow their conversation. "Where's Peeta?"

"Away," came my brother's voice again from my right side. My head swiftly turned in his direction, and as soon as I saw his face, I knew something had gone wrong.

Something we hadn't anticipated.

But my heart didn't want to acknowledge that yet.

"What do you mean 'away'? That's not possible!" My outburst was paired with a couple sparks flying around me, one even searing a small hole in Rogue's sweater. "We thought of everything! There's no way for him to be away. NO WAY!" I abruptly stopped when a single thought came to my mind. "Unless …" Murderous eyes turned once again to my brother. "Rogue! I swear to all deities-"

"Sorry, Sis," he interrupted quickly, hands raised in a placating manner. "This time I had nothing to do with it."

"Then what-"

"This is completely on yourself, Dee." With these words he handed me a folded piece of paper. As soon as I held it in hands, he took several steps away from me. In the background I saw Rye and Katniss laughing with each other.

Fucking great! My anger flared even higher. It's the wrong fucking brother!

Suppressing my frustration I unfolded the letter and started to read the couple lines in neat handwriting on it.

"Let me explain a deal to you, Dee-dee: Party A agrees to arrange certain things if Party B can fulfill certain requirements. In other words: Next time you ask your incompetent cousin Beau to help out, maybe make sure he gets the instructions right. There's nothing I'm less interested in than sitting in the first row of Valentino's Fashion Show, when Cinna's the one I asked for. And what the fuck should I need last spring's Louboutin's for? They're like, so last season! Sorry, my dear, but in that case: No deal! Wish you a fabulous rest of the week! xoxo, Tuesday."

I had to read this effrontery twice more before fully registering what just had taken place.

"THAT FUCKING BITCH!?"

My scream - although being invisible and mute for the humans at the moment - made some cups on the counter shake, which made Katniss and Rye stop their conversation in surprise. At least something good came from my outburst. They went back to business, stepping together into the kitchen, but it didn't even register with me.

Later, after I calmed down, my brother told me my aura was actually in flames in that moment.

Fuming, I once again turned to Rogue. My Special Effects were in full swing, my voice sounding like a demon from the underworld. "Explain."

Rogue is a mischievous dumbass, but you have to give him credit for never being a coward, even when facing his irrational, pissed off, way more powerful, older sister.

"So, I'm pretty sure I don't have to explain the Why …"

"ROGUE!"

"Okay, okay," he tried to calm the situation down. "You had just cut the mental connection, when Tuesday stepped through the door, pushed the message for you into my hands and then walked into the kitchen. I followed her, of course. Next thing I know she's blowing her voodoo-sparkles over the Mellark brothers before disappearing again. She didn't even say a single word the whole time. The blink of an eye later the telephone rings. A hysterical mother of a bride. Their wedding cake baker went out of business four days before the reception. Poof, just like that, and took their deposit, too! How could they feed cake to 350 people now, she asked. And because Peeta is a gentle soul, he reassured her and agreed to an emergency meeting, even though he desperately wanted to meet the pretty voice named Katniss. And then Rye agreed to take over the pipe-dilemma. Two minutes later you arrived."

After Rogue finished with the explanation, my hot rage had simmered down to bone deep frustration.

Two minutes. Two fucking minutes!

When the time was right the bitch was going to pay. I had all eternity to plan my revenge.

But first I had to figure out another way to make Katniss and Peeta finally find each other. I would sink with that ship. Everlark would be Endgame, if it was the last thing I ever accomplished.

Awesome! Everything the whole debacle helped to generate was me referring to them as Everlark now, too.

Thanks for fucking nothing.

To Be Continued

[alliswell21]

and if you may ... 49 too .. “Im too sober for this” .. Please ? Thank you ::!!

😊 another awesome prompt: 49. “I’m too sober for this”

Warning: mentions of underage drinking

Sorry this came out so freakishly long. Enjoy.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

As Senior resolutions went, mine was daring, brave, empowering and completely futile.

Since my best and only friends Gale and Madge graduated the previous year and left to pursue their own paths, I saw a chance to reinvent myself. It was gonna be the greatest thing since sliced bread!

I was gonna let lose, let my hair down (literally! Who wears braids to school everyday in their senior year anyway?!?). I was gonna brake some rules and be known as: Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire!.

I had it all planned out.

I was going to shed my quiet, goody-two-shoes, hermit persona behind and become this easy going chick all the cool cats wanted to hang out with, and to my credit, I succeeded pretty much on everything I’d set out to do except the single most important thing of all...

But I’m nothing, if not persistent, hence my current situation, holding a flashlight, illuminating a doorknob, as a group of classmates try to break an entering in the school building after hours.

Real smart stuff for Katniss Everdeen, formerly sensible person.

”Come on man! What’s taking so freaking long?” Asked Marvel Quaid impatiently.

”Almost,” Says Annie Cresta still tweaking her bobby pin into the lock to Dr. Abernathy’s office.

Finnick Odair, Annie’s boyfriend and the father of this half baked idea of a prank, slaps Marvel’s shoulder with the back of his hand, telling him cockily, “Hush dude. You’re throwing my girl’s mojo. Besides, hasn’t your mother told you that patience is a virtue?”

”Ugh... just hurry it, will ya? I’m with twitchy here. Being at Abernathy’s office during the day is bad enough,”

”Johanna, when have I ever fail you?” Asks Finnick at his best friend with a pointed look, then he grins mischievously, “Plus, once we’re inside, will celebrate by raiding old man Haymitch’s liquor stash!” He wiggles his eyebrows at that.

”Wait... what? Nobody said anything about drinking the stuff! I thought we were just switching it with water. This is crazy Finn!”

”Shush it Peeta! Not a good time to act like a chicken shit!” Johanna whispers harshly. “I knew you were gonna wimp out half way!”

Peeta puffs out his already prominent chest, and frowns angrily a Johanna, “I’m not wimping out of nothing!” His intense blue eyes fix on mine for a second, but as usual, the moment I look back at him, they fleet away, returning to Johanna next to Finnick. “I’m just saying, that with every passing second, it’s more obvious this prank wasn’t thought through. That’s all. Plus, we already drank Annie’s dad’s liquor cabinet, I’m pretty sure stealing the principal’s cheap vodka and drinking it in his office is like... a felony or something.”

I’ve been watching Peeta pretty much my whole high school career. It’s not that I just noticed him, it’s just that I just became aware of how much I noticed him when he was around. With Gale’s towering frame out of the way, distracting me, I finally realized I’ve kept track of this blue eyed blonde, ever since I was a tween, and he fed me his own bread the day my father died. His one act of kindness set him apart from everyone else, and Ive finally come to terms with it. But for all my observations of the boy with the bread, I can say he does look a little green right now, but a coward he totally is not!

I let a long breath out, scratching my nose with my free hand. ”I’m too sober for this,” I didn’t actually mean to say it out loud, but it’s true, and it’s out.

”Wait until we’re drinking Abernathy’s poison, baby, that’ll take care of it right away!” Says our resident meathead, and designated muscle, Cato Alexander. His voice is so greasy, and obnoxious I scowl at him in disgust, but Peeta surges up from his hiding spot, to crouch in front of me, facing Cato. I think he’s trying to shield me from his leering eyes.

”Yeah, well, I still think we should stick to the original plan of just dumping it all out and switching it with water, and get the hell out of here ASAP.” Peeta grunts, more than says.

”Abernathy keeps his ‘secret’ stash under lock and key, though.” I offer. “Wiress told me he’s even putting some alarm system in place, because he has the bottle in the same place he keeps the final exams.”

Johanna rolls her eyes, blowing a bubble with her gum, and finally runs a hand through her spiky short hair. “Come on Brainless, that was just Nuts, being her nutty self. There aren’t any alarms here. Old man Haymitch is an angry drunkard, not a paranoid one.” Her gum pops and she chews on happily.

”Done!” Crows Annie triumphantly.

”I knew you could do it, Hon!” Says Finnick sporting that lovesick face he always has when speaking to Annie. He kisses her in the lips, and Johanna makes pukey faces at them while the rest of us try to look away uncomfortable.

”Dude, get a room!” Says Marvel.

We all slip into the open door on tip-toes, and come to Dr. Abernathy’s desk. There, where drawers used to be at one time, it’s a safe, with a digital keypad.

”Great!” Whines Marvel, “Deciphering this code is gonna be harder than guessing what’s in Mrs. Sae’s mystery meat stew!” He says throwing his arms in the air.

”I knew this was a bad idea. We suggest we just get out of here right away.” Says Peeta sweating profusely.

I can see Johanna’s mouth open to tell Peeta off, but whatever nasty comment she was gonna make we never found out, because all hell broke lose in the blink of an eye.

It turns out the old drunk was a bit paranoid after all, and Wiress Martin’s tip about the alarms was good. We tripped the silent system as soon as we picked the lock. It took the police all of five minutes to flood the school.

They caught Johanna first, then Marvel. Finnick was in top notch physical condition, and too fast for the cops, but Annie tripped and fell and when he came back to help her up, they too got apprehended. Cato ran off like a headless chicken screaming “Abort! Abort!” at the top of his lungs, until he fell silent. I’m not sure what happened to him. As for myself... I was standing there in the middle of the room, frozen. Then like in slow motion, Peeta started yelling at me.

”Run! Katniss, run! What are you doing? Run!”

When I don’t move, he pushes me out the door, when that doesn’t work, he grabs my hand and drags me with him, but although I’m great at track and runs, I’m not match for the rush of adrenaline he seems to be having, so he finally turns around, throws me over his shoulder like I’m a sack of flour, and off we go out of the building.

I’ve gather my wits enough to know we are out of their reach, but also that we have to come back and give ourselves up before someone rats us out. And someone will. I don’t trust Marvel or Cato.

”Peeta,” I call. “Peeta, we’re safe now. You can put me down!”

It takes me punching his back several times to get his attention, but he stops, and puts me on the ground gently. Then, out of the blue, his lips crash against mine in a passionate, all consuming kiss, I’ll be hard pressed to ever recreate with anyone else.

”You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” he mumbles over and over between kisses, all the while his hands cup my face, then smooth down my arms, around my back, cradle my head.

We break apart heaving for air, our foreheads resting against each other.

” I’m sorry for overstepping.” He finally breathes out, “but that was the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me, and I live with Winnifred Mellark.” He chuckles raggedly. It’s no secret his mother is a piece of work witch that used to hit her children until they grew too big and wide to intimidate anymore. “If at some point, you feel the urge to slap me in the face, I’ll take. Gladly. I deserve it.” He chuckles again, “It was worth it.”

”What was worth it?” I ask dizzy.

”Finally plucking up the courage to kiss you.” He pulls away from me, for once in his life, his eyes aren’t avoiding mine. As he stares at me, hungrily, he adds, “I figured we have to go back and face Principal Abernathy sooner or later, which means my mother is gonna find out about this debacle, and she’s probably gonna try to kill me. I figured, if I’m gonna die, I rather die knowing what it felt like to have finally let you know how much of a goner am I for you.”

”Oh,” it’s all I can say.

He’s starting to get anxious at my lack of response, he’s blabbering some nonsense about having a shot at being friends and whatnot, but his frantic backpedaling won’t do, so I do the only thing I can think of, and grab his biceps for balance and surge up to shut him up with another kiss.

”We’ll go back there together,” I tell him against his lips.

He nods, not letting go of me, “Together.”

We will go into this as one.

[everlarkficexchange]

Tripple Dog Date Him!

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt #57: Katniss is dared to ask nerdy!Peeta out on a date, she ends up actually enjoying her time with him. By: Anonymous.

Rated: T for some language.

Triggers: None

Word Count: Around 7500

Summary: Katniss has known of Peeta Mellark since they were little, but not until her roommate Johanna decides Katniss has had a too long hiatus from the dating scene, she dares speak to the boy.

This piece has not been betaed. All mistakes are mine.  

I make my way to Greasy Sae’s, the diner I work at five days a week; I get a discount on my bill if I eat here… the life of a college student doesn’t support luxuries, like passing up ‘discounted prices’ on hearty meals and if Old Sae, the owner of the diner, is here without her watchful granddaughter, my meals become free, which is an even better value for my wallet.

My friend and roommate, Johanna, is already seated at our usual booth, so I make my way towards her and slide in on my side of the bench. We don’t speak, merely grunting our greetings to each other and burying our noses on the sticky menu we already know by heart. Jo introduced me to Sae, that’s how I got the job of waitress at her fine establishment, which means, Jo gets free meals too, making Sae’s diner our favorite place to eat.

The old woman comes herself to our table and sits a mug of mint tea in front of me and a cherry Coke in front of Jo.

“You girls need a second to peruse the menu, or should I just go ahead and bring out your usual?”

We both look at old Sea’s smirking face, and say “Usual” at the same time, which causes the old lady to guffaw all the way back to the kitchen.

Having nothing better to do, we go back at staring at the menu.

Johanna and I had a little impasse this morning, and we are giving the cold shoulder to each other. Or at least I thought we were.

“Was the night you went out with Gale, the last time you went out on a date?” She asks breaking the icy standoff.

I scrunch up my face, “Nah. I went to that frat party with Darius. A big, fat waste of my time.” I sigh remembering the disaster that date was.

“Mhmm.” She’s frowning at the chili section of the menu, then she clears her throat, “Fine, then it’s high time you went out on a date. That debacle with Darius was almost four months ago.”

“I don’t wanna go on a date!” I protest slapping the menu onto the table.

“Why not? You go on a date, I get the dorm to myself for a few hours where I can invite some willing guy, to get me off this dry spell… both figuratively and literally!” she places her own menu down delicately, staring me down.

“No!” I cross my arms over my chest like a brat.

“Why?”

“There aren’t any guys I’d like to go out with!” I say harshly.

“Then try a girl. I’ve always say, there’s fun in diversity,”

“I’m not attracted to girls, Johanna,”

“Then I’ll choose a dude for you, Brainless. What do you say?” She grins deviously.

“I said no!” I stomp my foot under the table, but she’s on a mission.

Johanna scoots upwards in her bench, and her eyes make a wide scan of the place. Is a Sunday evening, and the diner offers student specials when the cafeteria at campus is close on the weekends. The place is packed with kids from every year.

“Aha!” Johanna shouts delighted, “Him!”

I turn, only because of morbid curiosity forces my head, but once I locate the guy she’s pointing at, I snort derisively.

“Big fat no!” I tell her.

“What’s wrong with Jack Marvel?” She asks arching an eyebrow.

“Ugh! No. He was in my literature class freshmen year, he’s got two cockroaches playing ping-pong in his head instead of brains. Pass!”

“O-kaaaay…” she looks around the room. “Ooh! I got it!”

I look again, and this time it takes me a second longer to shut down her candidate.

“I’m not going out with Alexander Cato. He’s a misogynistic pig! He got offended because I got top marks on our last math test. He called me a cheat, even though he was the one asking every soul in the room, what they had answered on number four. Parasite!”

“But you looked at him. That means we are on the right track,” Jo says shrugging one shoulder.

“He’s okay looking, if you ignore what a big jerk he actually is.”

“So, you like blondes now?”

I scowl at her teasing tone and roll my eyes. “I don’t really have a type per say… I actually thought it was someone else until I realized his shoulders weren’t the right breadth,”

“What does that even mean?” She asks arching a brow, and I know I’ve said too much.  

“Nothing. It means nothing.”

“Fine, how about…” she pauses for a moment.

I don’t like how easily she’s dropped the subject. She’s never this easy. Then, I see a broad smile form on her lips before she looks back at me.

“I found the perfect guy,” she mock whispers.

I’m scrambling up, trying to twist all the way around to see who she’s talking about, then I cackle at her choice.

“Puh-lease!” I chant, “Odair? Are you serious? Get real, Johanna! What makes you think I’ll even try it?”

“Okay, now what’s wrong with Finnick?” She actually looks indignant. “I’ll have you know, Finn and I go way back, and he’s an alright dude!”

I roll my eyes, “If you must know, Finnick Odair is too pretty. He knows he’s pretty and takes advantage of it. I wouldn’t touch his narcissistic ass with a ten foot pole, even if he was the last guy left in school. He’s too easy to get, or maybe too easy to lose… I haven’t decided which is worse yet.”

“You’re wrong about Finn,” Johanna says annoyedly, “He’s engaged to his high school sweetheart. He might be a big flirt, but he’s no cheater.”

“Then why did you pointed him out as an option?” I ask aggravated.

“I didn’t.” She hisses, “I was pointed at the guy sitting with him.” And like that, the smirk is back on her face.

I turn in my seat, straining my neck to see who’s she talking about.

I freeze.

Then just as fast as I turned to look, I drop into my bench and try to shrink myself as small as I can.

I can’t believe Johanna!

She starts chuckling quietly, no doubt laughing at my discomfort.

“So? What do you think of my pick, Kitty Kat?” She asks.

I glare at her. “No.” I grit between my teeth.

She whines, “Awww. Why? He’s got everything you kind of like,” she says smirking, “actual brains in his head, sparkling baby blue eyes, muscles that go on forever, a boyish smile, and that wavy ashy mop of blonde hair covering his nerdy brain!” She laughs full on, “He’s perfect!”

I turn back to spy on him and make sure he’s not aware we’re talking about him. Lousy Johanna is right. He is pretty perfect, and completely out of the question, don’t get me started on how out my league he is.

“That is an absolute ‘hell no!’” I say through gritted teeth.

To my horror, Johanna waves.

“What are you doing?” I screech trying and failing to lunge myself across the table to stop her.

“What? Stop!” She snaps. “I’m just trying to get Sae’s attention you maniac!”

I cover my face with my hands in embarrassment, and plop sideways into the bench.

“Jeez! If I knew little baker boy had your panties in such a tight knot I would’ve made you talk to him sooner.” She bites, not one bit amused.

“I- he- is not that. He’s out of bounds.” I say lamely.

“Out of bounds?” She repeats staring at me as if I’ve sprouted a second head, “what are you talking about?”

I take a deep breath to calm myself. “My friend Delly, she’s always had her eye on him. They were next door neighbors growing up, their parents still live next to each other. They were very good friends. She always got invited to his place to play with his action figures. They used to exchange comic books, even though Delly couldn’t care less about them, her brother used to tell her all she needed to know to get by.”

Johanna is still staring at me as if I just said the stupidest thing ever. Which she promptly voices after I’ve finally gone mute.

“That’s ridiculous, Brainless. You won’t ask a guy out because a girl you knew in elementary school had a crush on him?” Her tone is disbelieving. “Isn’t Delly the one girl with the humongous boobs?” She asks.

“Yeah, so?”

“Last time we went to your house, she was talking non stop about this Thom guy she met at work. She sounded pretty serious about him, Katniss.” She says in a patronizing tone I hate.

“Jo, you don’t understand. Peeta Mellark and I have nothing in common, other than we come from the same town. But I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks so to speak, while he was the rare, golden boy, who could be both a brainiac- debate club president-  and a jock- wrestling champ- at the same time, and everyone loved. Me– I wasn’t popular. Hell, I would’ve believed I was unlikable, if it hadn’t been for Gale, Delly and Madge insisting on sitting with me at lunch all through high school. I have no business messing with that boy.” I deflate.

Sae places our food in front of us, and I smile at her gratefully, because Johanna is nothing but a one mind track sort of being, she’ll drop the whole thing once she starts eating, and then she’ll concentrate in the next thing that happens, except, she doesn’t.

Johanna finishes her greasy double steakburger with cheese, sucking a stranded piece of finely sliced onion into her mouth as if it was a single spaghetti noodle with a pop at the end.

I try not watch her disgusting eating habits while I try to finish up with my bowl of lamb stew over rice, poking around for a plum. I believe I may be the only patron under sixty to ever order the stew, but it just reminds me of home in rainy days, but my peace is disturbed when my dinner mate starts slurping obnoxiously the last dregs of her soda through her chewed up straw.

I glare at her, she knows I hate it when she does that, but she smirks, letting me know every nasty sound she’s made in the last five minutes were all for my benefit. Sometimes is easy to for me to see Johanna as the annoying older sister I’m grateful I never had.    

“So,” she says smacking her lips loudly, “I’ve been thinking.”

I groan, sliding my food away from me. It’s never a good thing when Johanna’s sentences start with ‘I’ve been thinking’, so I brace myself for whatever crazy idea has been floating around her idle mind.

“I believe is time for you to go on a date, so I can go forth and get laid.”

“Oh please, Johanna, don’t be crass–”

“No, no! Hear me out.” She toots haughtily rising her hand. “I know you don’t believe in casual sex- hell, I know you didn’t give it up to Gale, and he’s been after that shit since he could jerk off–”

“JOHANNA! Good grief.” I hiss, “I don’t think the people in the table across the diner heard you! Could you, please, mind your words?” I shake my head, because she looks too gleeful when she shrugs.

“Fine, have it your way Mother Teresa. As I was saying, it is my expert opinion, that is in both our best interests if you went out on a date. I seriously don’t care who you go out with, as long as you let me have the dorm to myself for a couple of hours.” And then, she pulls her big guns against me: her huge, brown puppy dog eyes! “Pretty please with a cherry on top?” she sounds pitiful.

I rub my face with both my hands, and finally acquiesce to her pleads. I hate the smug, pleased smile she throws at me right after, but I figure she’s right. I haven’t been out on a date since forever, not that I date much, but nothing can go as wrong as Darius puking on me- twice- in less than thirty minutes, which was how long it took me to drop him off at the Campus infirmary after confirming his food poisoning. I shudder at the memory.

We leave our booth, and shuffle behind a group of giggling sorority girls trying to skip on their meal check, but Sae fixes them with her deadly accurate impersonation of a neapolitan mastiff- the breed is truly harmless, but so intimidating. When she sees us standing there, she waves us off smiling and saying we our dinner was on the house, causing the sorority sister to glare daggers at us and a male full laugh to bubble up behind us.

I turn around to see who’s the idiot that actually dares to piggyback a laugh on our moment, and I’m surprised to find myself face to face with the most stunning ocean green eyes I’ve ever seen in my life, accompanied by the whitest, sparkliest perfect row of teeth, in the history of the world. Damn that Finnick Odair is unreal.  

“Great! Good going Finn! You broke my roommate!” says Jo next to me, except her voice is too full of mirth to be a tell off.

“Hey Jo! How’s it going sweetums?” He asks allowing his lips to fall into an easy smile, framed by dimpled cheeks.

He reaches an arm past me, and I freeze, his eyes honed on mine, which may be the size of flying saucers judging by how dry they feel right now.

“Hi there, roommate. Although I rather call you by your real name, Katniss?”

Okay. Now I’m officially in shock, the most gorgeous man on earth knows my name somehow, but we’ve never been introduced before. Who cares if he just dragged the ss at the end of my name in the most obnoxious manner ever!

He finally pulls his arm back to himself, and I see he’s got a small pile of sugar cubes on his hand. He pops a cube into his mouth and asks me in the smoothest voice I’ve ever heard directed at me, “Want a sugar cube, Katniss?”

The crunching sound he makes while chewing, finally brings me back to earth. I frown at the noise and take a step back.

“Leave her alone, would you?” says another voice, male, deep, not truly harsh, but still rings like a command.

Finnick’s megawatt smile dims immediately, his eyes do a quick take of who spoke and then turns back to me, with a friendly grin. He step back, popping another sugar cube into his mouth he most likely stole from the counter behind me.

But I’m back to catatonic state, staring at my knight in shining armour, giving his friend a stern look before facing me, but as usual, Jo has to be the one to open her loud mouth.

“Hey there, handsome,” She says in a sugary tone. When Peeta ‘freaking’ Mellark doesn’t answer, she turns to his companion, “Hey Finn, does your friend have a name?” she asks coyly.

Finnick laughs, “Of course, Jo!” He obliges before I can turn to give Jo a searing glare of death.

She knows full well who Finnick’s friend is.

“This is Peeta Mellark. Outstanding dude, my best friend, second only to Annie herself, and my roommate.” He turns to Peeta, who’s eyes keep flicking back and forth between me and Finnick. “Peet, this Johanna Mason a long time friend of mine, and you know this lovely lady standing next to Jo is–”

“Katniss Everdeen.” Peeta finishes the sentence apparently out of breath, while Finnick’s lips lift on a devilish grin he can’t quite hide fast enough. But Peeta keeps talking, bringing my spasmic attention back to him. “Very nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard many great things about you from Dells.”

My response is to nod followed by a very pitiful “Likewise,” that comes out as strained and congested. It’s not my fault, really. He’s taken my hand in his to shake, and I’m overwhelmed by how warm and big it feels around my own. As soon as he lets go of it, I wipe it on my pant leg because suddenly my palms are sweating uncontrollably immediately regret my action, because I don’t want to wipe away the feeling of his touch just yet.

“So, tonight is Peet’s turn to pick up the check, and I figured I’d ask if we could take yours as well, lovely ladies… but I see Old Sae beat me to the punch,” Finnick says sending a smile to Sae still sitting behind the register.

The old woman, cackles mirthfully, “You can still do the gentlemanly thing and pay for the girls’ grub, you know.” But since she’s still laughing when Peeta passes her his credit card, we all know she wont charge him for our food.

Jo thanks Finnick and Peeta anyway for their offer, which I would’ve refused anyway if it came down to it. I like free meals and all, but a girl has to have some dignity.

Jo and Finn truly are friends, and for some crazy reason decide on staying in the middle of the diner lobby catching up. I catch Peeta’s eyes several time, but he averts his eyes so fast is a wonder he hasn’t lost one those baby-blues so far. My face starts to feel warm with his confusing attention, and I start to squirm as sweat starts to bead on my forehead and around the collar of my shirt. I need to get out of this place quickly, before I do something stupid, like tell Peeta Mellark I used to have a crush on him almost my whole childhood.

I’m grateful when we finally part ways after an awkward goodbye exchange between me and everyone else. I practically run in the direction of campus, listening how Johanna turns down Finnick’s offer to drive us back to our dorm. Apparently Finnick Odair and Peeta Mellark are living in a rented house with two more guys somewhere close by, I just don’t sit there long enough to learn any details.

Johanna finally catches up with me, and while I try to ignore her pointed stares, I know that sooner or later she’s gonna open her mouth to say whatever crazy thing she thinks she just saw, so I don’t give her a chance.

“I’m not gonna ask him out on a date, if that’s what you are thinking about.” I say firmly.

“Oh come on! The guy couldn’t keep his eyes off you, as if you were Gal Gadot in your skimpy Wonder Woman costume straight out of the big screen. Plus I didn’t say anything.” she counters nonchalantly. “Not yet at least.”

“Well, you’re wasting your time, Jo. I won’t ask him out. If he was staring at me, was probably wondering why I was staring at him like an idiot”

“You are an idiot, brainless! But fine!” she snaps grabbing my arm and forcing me to stop mid step. “Lets fix old school.” She says flatly.

“What do you mean ‘old school’?” I ask dubiously.

“You’ll see as soon as we are back in our room. And since it’s old school, there’s no ‘givesis backsis’ and no double crossing the deal. You can’t back out!” she says.

For some reason this whole conversation is so childish and immature, I chuckle, and like a chump, I agree to her ludicrous terms. Because that’s what I am: a chump.

We finally arrive home, and that’s when everything goes downhill for me.      

“Sit!” Johanna commands.

I make to sit on my desk chair, while she goes shifting stuff behind her bed, where I know she keep her hidden booze- we aren’t allowed alcohol in the dorms, but that doesn’t mean people don’t have a secret stash somewhere.

“On the floor, Brainless!” she growls at me as soon as my ass touches the chair, making me jump startled.

Once again, I do as she says, and slide on my butt on to the gross carpet, we try to avoid by placing our own area rugs everywhere we think we will be barefooted.

Soon, Johanna is joining me on the floor with a bottle of something amber that’s only a third full. “Pass your laptop here.” She demands unscrewing the bottle open.

“What do you want my laptop for?” I ask. “I thought you were solving this old school. A computer is not very old school, in case you didn’t know.” I snort a little, thinking up something clever, “I thought we were gonna play spin the bottle or something,”   

“Shut up, Brainless. We can’t play spin the bottle just the two of us, that’ll be stupid!” She chugs a generous pull of whatever liquor she’s got and passes the bottle to me, taking the computer in turn.

I’m not much of a drinker, so I just hold the bottle for her, while I see her signing in on my facebook account.

“Hey! That’s personal! I could report you for that you know?” I scream at her and try to grab my laptop from her, but in one of her Johanna moves, she holds me away by placing her foot on my chest while stretching away from my reach.

“Stop, Katniss, I’m looking for your friend Delly, so quit being a whiny brat and let a woman work in peace.”

“I don’t know what you want with Delly, but whatever it is, you’re going too far!”

“Aha!” she crows jubilantly, jumping up and keeping the computer away from me still. “Okay, Brainless, time of truth! You said the reason for refusing to talk to Bread Boy, is because Delly used to like him when they were kids.”

“Yes. So?” I grumble and sit back down crossing every limb of my body until I’m a human knot.   

“So, this is a modified game of Truth or Dare.”

I shrug. Truth or Dare doesn’t scare me. “Do your worse then,” I taunt.

She sits down across from me sporting a mirror image of my facial expression. I see her eyes go up and down as she scrolls the page currently on display on the screen, and then I see her smug smirk make an appearance.

Jo knows almost everything about me, we managed to stay roommates since my freshman year, she had been in school for a while before I came in, with classes scattered about every semester since she had become an orphan just a month after starting her first year and had to drop off until she got her life back on track. We became reluctant friends after a while, and then I invited her to come home with me during Thanksgiving break, since I thought it sucked she had nobody else to go home to. My family practically adopted her on the spot, despite her potty mouth and boisterous personality. In no time she had met everyone in town, and thanks to my sweet, big mouthed little sister, Prim, that included everything there was to know about one Peeta Mellark, youngest son of the best known baker in my home county.

She deduced pretty quickly I had a schoolgirl crush on the guy growing up, and has never let it down since. I didn’t use to mind her harassing jokes until tonight though.

“What?” I ask loosing patience.

“Truth: Delly Cartwright is madly in love with a Thomas Miner. Both their profiles say they are ‘in a relationship’ with each other, which means is pretty serious. Serious enough to take a nice, long cruise together to the Coast of Mexico as an engagement gift!”

“No way!” I exclaim, climbing on all fours and crawling to her to take a peek at the page she’s looking at. “Holy shit! You’re right!”

It’s true. Delly is somewhere sipping margaritas with Thom in some beach in Mexico, sporting a rock the size of Texas on her ring finger. She looks good!

“She looks very happy,” I say absently.

“She does. Power to her.” says Jo. “Now that we’ve got the truth out of the way, let’s bring in the dare!”

“Hey, I never said this was my truth. If anything it’s Delly’s truth.” I protest.

“No takesis backsis, Brainless. A deal is a deal!” She glares at me. “I never said I was going to ask you any truths. So, listen up, buttercup, here’s your dare:”

“Ugh, please… don’t call me Buttercup. That beast of a cat hates me!”

“That’s because you antagonize him. Prim’s cat is perfectly sweet to me and everyone else.”

I roll my eyes at her, but I’m unable to do anything else, because she goes off stating her Dare:

“I dare you to say hello to Peeta Mellark next time you see him,”

I take a second to think this over, and come to the conclusion than saying hello to Peeta is a perfectly innocent dare, It shouldn’t be that hard now that we got officially introduced to each other. I nod reluctantly, “Fine, dare accepted. I’ll say hi to Peeta next time I see him around.”

“Cool. I’m glad we could come to an understanding, Brainless. Now let’s get ready for bed. I gotta be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow.”

I lift myself off the floor feeling Johanna was oddly easy to appease just now. Usually she’s like a hound with a prey scent in her nose. I don’t know why was she so agreeable and her dare so easy, but I’m not gonna argue about it, specially since she dropped the subject, finally!

————————————————

Two days go by before I see Peeta again, and to my utter horror, he’s chatting with Johanna when I spot him at the library. I try to duck out of sight before they notice me, but as is my luck, his bright blue eyes shift up right into mine at the precise moment I think of my escape route at the other side of the room. Unfortunately for me, Johanna follows his sight and smirks as soon as she sees me, then she squeezes his arm saying something to him, and slinks in my direction like a kitten spying a bowl of cream.

“Hi, Katniss,” she drags the ss like Finnick did the night we met, and I already hate the sound of it.

“Jo,” I deadpan.

“Come on, Brainless. It’s pay-up time!” she links her arm with mine and I swear she skips gleefully the whole way back to Peeta, who’s just watching us interact as if it was the most interesting thing he’s seen all day.

We finally stop in front of him, and I feel my cheeks flame for a second. I hope my tongue decided to cooperate so I can say hello and get Johanna off my back for good, but she starts blabbing about something I can’t quite follow, giving me a chance to find my nerve.

“So, Katniss, Peeta here was telling me about his amazing gaming system collection. He says he’s got one console of every system released–”

“Um, more like I have one of each consoles I could afford with my allowance money starting on seventh grade.” He corrects Jo with an embarrassed chuckle, his cheeks tint a slight pink color that actually suits him pretty nicely.

“Yeah, but didn’t you say some of them are now considered classics?” She prods smiling, twisting my arm in hers painfully.

He chuckles again, averting his eyes to the floor. The pink in his cheeks intensify, and it finally clicks with me, that what Jo is saying is embarrassing him for some reason.

“Hi!” I say too loud and seemingly out of the blue, but I finally  get him to look at me and erase a bit of his embarrassment to boot. “H-how are you? I love your buns, I mean, the cheese buns your dad sells, you know? The ones with the gooey cheese on them, those are like my favorite treat ever. My sister is more partial to the cakes, because they’re so pretty and all, but I rather eat something less sugary… not because I’m watching my diet or anything, I hate diets, is more the fact that I enjoy cheese… um… okay, so, I know nothing about video games, but I’m sure you were very popular in school for having all those consoles–”

The only reason my freaky word vomit stops is because Johanna’s nails dig into my forearm viciously. I’ll have a huge, ugly scar there when she finally lets go of it, but right now I’m glad she’s put an end to my running mouth.

My eyes are watering slightly, and I can see the puzzlement in his face clear as day. Poor guy looks like he’s been hit on the face with a rubber chicken: a mix of disbelief and the same curiosity that forces you to watch a train wreck from beginning to end.

“Excuse us a sec, Blondie?” Johanna pulls me away, but my eyes remain unblinking staring at him in utter horror.

“Shit,” I groan just loud enough for Johanna to hear.

“Shit is right! The hell was that? Is that what nervous-Katniss sounds like? Because it’s absolutely horrible.” She wrinkles her nose, and I finally manage to tear my eyes away from Peeta’s face.

“Thank you, Jo! I hope you’re happy now! I told you I was no good at saying something to people, especially him!”

“Hush, is a good thing he’s got a thing for you, otherwise you would have blown it just now, miss awkward.”

“What are you talking about, Johanna? He doesn’t have a thing for me.”

She rolls her eyes and tells me in her most aggravated voice, “You truly are brainless.” she softens her tone a little after taking a generous breath, “Alright, everything’s not lost. If the way he looks at you is any indication, he doesn’t care one bit how tongue tied you are, so all you have to do now, is go up there and ask him out on a date!” She sounds like she’s been planning this for quite some time now.

“Not gonna happen, Johanna. I can’t ask him out!”

“Why? And please don’t tell me it’s because of Delly, since we’ve already ruled Delly out of the equation.” She glares at me.

“Well, as you clearly see, I scared the daylights out of him. I will not make an even bigger idiot out of myself. We both saw how it was when I tried to say hello. It was supposed to be a simple greeting and it went totally wrong. So it’s not about Delly anymore, but about my inability to act like a normal person when he’s around.”

“Brainless, if you don’t go out there and ask him out this instant… I swear to Jebus I’m gonna make it my life mission to remind you of your yellow belly for the rest of your life.”

“I, dare you!” I retort brattily.

“No! I dare YOU to ask him out. In fact, I call in the yard law, and triple dog dare you!”

I gasp astonished, like the immature idiot I’ve become in the last few days once the challenge has been issued.

“You wouldn’t!” I say lowly.

“Is done!”

“Fine!”

I march back to Peeta, he’s been watching us curiously the whole time. I stand in front of him, crack my neck, square my shoulders and open my mouth. Only a squeak makes it pass my lips, so I clear my throat and lick my lips stealing myself.

“Date. Saturday. Greasy Sae’s. Seven o’clock. You and me. Bye now.”  I don’t wait for his response, as my throat kept getting dryer with each word I said, and my voice was coming out as raspy and unattractive as a trucker dude with an allergy. I didn’t want the size of his eyes, that kept getting wider the more he heard me, be an indication of what his answer would be, so I hightailed out of there as fast as could before I started crying and perspiring. No reason to freak him out more than I’ve already have.

My next move is to go send Delly an apologetic message through facebook, for going after the boy she liked back home, but Johanna catches up to me, gasping and holding her sides.

“Can you please stop? I haven’t run this fast since my softball league days!”

“I didn’t know you played softball,”

“Every kid needs some bullcrap sport they can play before they can drive themselves.” She takes a few extra precious gulps of air, before getting on to me. “So, Peeta will be glad to go out with you to Sae’s Saturday, not that you’ll know since you didn’t wait around for him to say anything after that… whatever it was. Very smooth by the way.” now she’s laughing, but when her side starts clamping, I only scowl and start walking faster, leaving behind to hold her aching sides.

Serves her right!    

————————————————

When I get to Sae’s on Saturday, I’m surprised to spy Peeta’s mop of blonde hair carefully combed back, already sitting in my regular booth, on Jo’s regular bench. My hands start sweating immediately. I take a step back, and when the panic takes over I turn on my heel ready to make a beeline for the door, but my path is blocked by a very intimidating looking Jo, wearing my server uniform, since I was scheduled to work today, and somehow forgot about it. Jo of course was not gonna let that conveniently forgotten detail derail my date with Peeta, so she cajoled Sae into letting her take my shift at the diner for the night. Of course when Sae heard why Jo was so invested in this, she simply gave us a toothy smile and told her to be there a half hour earlier so she could feed her something before her shift.

Traitors!

“Go to your table, Brainless!” Jo hisses at me.

Without a word, I turn towards the booth, and walk quickly. I practically plop into my seat without much decorum, flinging the purse Prim demanded I used instead of my usual messenger bag, paired with a vintage blue dress that used to be my mother’s when she was single, but still holds its charm and is probably the only girly piece I own in my entire wardrobe.  

Peeta tries to stand when I arrive, but he finds himself impeded by the table between us. He plops back down again and gives me a smile, shy and sweet and full of hope I can feel my heart flutter.

“Hi,” he says quietly, “I brought this!” he hands me a small box, and like a little eager child I open it, in the most impolite manner ever.

I gasp when I see four perfectly cheesy cheese buns sitting over a blanket of tissue paper. “Peeta! You shouldn’t have,” I let my voice linger, staring at my favorite treat sitting there in front of me.

“I figured, it was better than bringing you chocolates. I mean, I brought flowers…” he produces a pretty bouquet from next to him and hands them to me. “But you said you didn’t like sweets that much. And I don’t care if you are watching your diet at all. I think you are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh… um, thank you.” I say feeling the heat return to my cheeks with a vengeance. I look at him and notice he’s turning lobster red as well, and that’s no good at all, so when I see him try to form words with his mouth, I jump in ahead, “You didn’t have to call home for this, you know.”

“I didn’t,” He says cocking his head curiously.

“Is there a bakery here that serves them? I’ve ever only had them at your dad’s.”

He smiles shyly again, and brings his hand to his hair, pulling it away as suddenly as he remembers he styled it today. “Actually… I baked them.”

“You did?” I sound like an awestruck little girl even to my ears.  “Wow. thank you so much for saving me some. That’s awfully nice of you,” I say sincerely.

His deep blue eyes fix on mine, so intensely, I can’t look away. “I made them specially for you, actually. You said they were your favorite, and those, next to the cake decorating your sister loves so much, are my area of expertise at the bakery,”

Johanna comes to take our order, winking at me and giving the thumbs up when Peeta’s eyes are occupied with the menu and I’m glad for the interruption, because this is all too much.

Our date goes on inmensibly better after our drinks arrive, he orders a cup of hot tea, no sugar, and I order my regular mint tea with honey. Sometime after our meal sits in front of us, I notice Johanna is talking to Finnick and a pretty redhead two tables away. They’re all looking at us, smiling smugly.

“So, your friend does have a girl?” I ask Peeta, prompting him to look in the direction my eyes are glaring at Jo.

He makes a noise, half growl, half sigh, one hundred percent annoyance. He then gives me an apologetic look, his bright blue eyes full of embarrassment and regret. “I guess, I should inform you that apparently our roommates are a pair of con artists, who think themselves clever and entitled to rule our romantic lives.” He takes a deep breath, and elaborates before my brain can jump to any sort of conclusion, which given the circumstances, I consider a good move for him.

“Johanna and Finnick have been plotting to have either of us ask the other out for weeks.” He says shaking his head, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry they dragged you into this. I should’ve known better, is just… you asking me out was probably the highlight of my life. I like to think that, at some point, I would’ve gathered the courage to ask you out myself without anyoe’s intervention, but now I’ll never know. I’ll go talk to Finn, tell him to leave you alone–”

“So, you did WANT to go out with me?” I cut him off before he can stand up. My mind is swimming, but usually when I let my impulsive nature take over, I achieve better results than when I don’t.

He looks at me with curiosity in his eyes, I can tell he won’t lie to me about this, “I’ve had a crush on you since kindergarten,” he says in a deep voice that cuts through me, “I kept asking Delly to come play with me, in the hopes that she’ll invite you over one day. I had amazing plans of what I would’ve done, if you ever showed up to the playdates. I would’ve given you my Red Power Ranger figurine plus his vehicle. It was my most prized possession at the time. Then I graduated to Pokemon cards, and I had my mint condition Pikachu, all safe for you. Then I realized, that girls didn’t necessarily cared for things I did, and started observing you. You joined the Archery team, then the track team, so I decided I’d join wrestling, I figured we should have something in common to talk about for whenever I stopped being a chicken and said hi to you.” He stops, his eyes finding a home on his fidgeting fingers on the table.

I scowl, “How would joining the wrestling team give us something in common to talk about?” I ask with more curiosity than I would imagine I would have, if a boy practically confessed to semi stalking me all throughout our school careers.

His face snaps up to find mine. His forehead wrinkles for a moment. “Well, you were an athlete. We would’ve had stories about hardass coaches, or rigorous practices. We could’ve trained together after school,” He shrugs, “Wrestling was the no brainer option for me. My brothers had done it and I knew all of their moves since the practiced them on me. I don’t think I could’ve ever master a bow and I’m not physically built for races,” he gives a self deprecating smile that melts my insides.

“I see,” I say finding the grain of the wood under my hands very interesting suddenly. I can feel my cheeks flame, “You seem to have thought of things a lot,” I say quietly.

He releases a choked chuckle, “This must be so creepy for you. I’m sorry. I– I’m gonna just go. Thank you for–”

“I asked Delly to take me with her to your playdates more than once. She had her own crush on you, so she said she couldn’t really woed you, if there were other people around during your play times, so I was never invited.” I chance a glance at him, I can’t read his face at the moment, but I think there’s a slight raise to one of his eyebrows. “My favorite Power Ranger was the green one buy the way.”

“It’s your favorite color.” Is not a statement, but more like he’s fishing for an answer, so I nod.

“Yup. Your’s?”    

“Orange,” He says smiling easily, “muted, like the sunset.” He adds when my nose wrinkles.

“I wouldn’t have taken your Pikachu. I would’ve traded you for it. I don’t believe in getting stuff for free. I would have make you a good deal for it.” I say trying to relax with all my might. “I wouldn’t have known anything about comic books though, just like I have no clue about video games or systems.”

He smiles crookedly, “That’s no problem at all. I can teach you everything you need to know… if you teach me how to shoot an arrow.” His eyes are so hopeful.

I pretend to think about it, “I don’t know… maybe we have to talk this a little more, preferably over hot chocolate and more cheese buns,”

He smiles brightly now, nodding happily. “Sounds promising,”

We continue talking about pretty much any and every topic there is to talk about for two people just meeting each other; our banter is easy and comfortable, and when Sae clears her throat, three feet away from our table, we realize is closing time and the place is completely empty.

Peeta walks me back to my dorm, his car is still at the diner’s lot, but he insisted we walked because he figured it made me feel more at ease. By the time we reach my building, we have entered into more personal territory in our conversation. I’ve told Peeta Mellark more things about my late father in fifteen minutes, than what I’ve said to Jo in all the years we’ve known each other, which is quite a lot.

We stop at the front entrance, and stand there awkwardly for a moment.

“Thank you so much for not running away after my creepy story?” he says sighing.

“Have you really had a crush on me all this time?” I ask.

“Yup,” he says nudging a pebble with the toe of his Chucks while staring at his feet, “ever since you sang the valley song for the entire auditorium on our first day of school. You were everything I wasn’t: fearless, pretty, talented and you sounded like an angel.”

He won’t look at me but I can’t stop staring at him. “Hmm… well, you were always everything I wasn’t,” I say. “Smart, well liked, physically strong, and with an endless supply of freshly baked cookies,”

He smiles at that, and lifts his face to look at me. “My mother would only let us eat cookies that had gone too stale to sell, but I know a few recipes I can whip up for you, if you allow me another date,”

Is my turn to smile, I let myself be impulsive again, and surge up on the tip of my toes, plating an awkward kiss square on his unsuspecting lips. As fast as I attacked him, I retreat a foot away from him and virtually jump inside the building, but before the door can close behind me, separating us for the night, I throw him a wink and cheerfully call back, “I’ll allow it! Tomorrow at seven o’clock, pick me up here!”

I get a small glimpse of his face as it goes from shocked, to pleased, to confused, to surprised, back to happy and smiley. Something tells me, this is just the first of many more dates, kisses and fun times with Peeta Mellark.                  

[appleblossomgirl0305]

Tennis Shoes, Chapter 4

Summary:  In honor of 4/20, a fic with Katniss and Gale stumbling into growing pot before finding they’re completely out of their depth. Seeds are sown (pun intended) for Everlark. The story can be found on AO3.

Chapter summary:  Katniss and Gale turn to Haymitch for help with the threat to their business. Even though she's trying to protect Peeta by keeping him out of her messy life, Katniss can't seem to maintain any distance from her favorite baker. Gale throws his annual Solstice party and Katniss accidentally (on purpose) asks Peeta to be her date.

A/N: Hi! I can’t believe it has been a year since I posted (then completely neglected) this story. In honor of four-twenty, I got my act together to update. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

That evening, Gale and I met Haymitch at the diviest dive bar in the Seam, and that was seriously saying something. Despite their low standards in cleanliness, Gale still had to bribe the bouncer to let us in. In true Seam fashion, underaged “kids” were welcome to grow and sell, and in this case bargain with, weed, but not necessarily enter a bar. 

As I nervously rolled my foot back and forth, sticking and unsticking my Chuck Taylors from the floor, Gale told Haymitch the whole story. At one point Gale leaned over and pressed his palm against my knee to stop my compulsive bouncing, so I used my feet to gather a small pile of peanut shells on which I could perch my the toes of my shoes . Gale was hunched over with his elbows on the filthy table and he kept pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down over his hands, but I couldn’t tell if it was a cleanliness issue or a nervous tic. Either way, I was reminded of him as a gawky fourteen-year-old. And, peeking at Haymitch grudgingly from the corner of my eye, I was struck by the way Gale and I both bristle at and crave a certain type of man, dare I say, a father figure.

When Gale had reached the end of his story, Haymitch knocked back the rest of the filthy glass of amber liquid that he had been swirling and trained his bloodshot, eagle-eyes on me. “So how’s the bakery gig, Sweetheart?”

Scowling at the casual use of "sweetheart", I cleared my throat and said, “Good. It’s fine.”

He nodded slowly and asked, “And the boy?”

I felt my cheeks flush, but held his gaze. “Which boy? There are several.” Somehow, I knew we were talking about Peeta. In my flustered state, I defaulted to surly and demanded, “What do you care?”

“He’s a good kid, that one. Been nice to me on more than one occasion. Brought me bread…” I looked at him then and wondered what he’d lost, what Peeta meant to him. I was starting to think I really should get Peeta a ballcap emblazoned with “bread angel” and the thought made me smile. Haymitch tilted his head questioningly then continued in a low voice, “I just want to make sure you understand what you’ve got before you piss it away.” What the hell? How could he know my heart? And if he did, as well as seemed to, how could he not understand that I was trying to keep Peeta safe?

Then he looked back and forth between Gale and I and stated, “Well, this is quite a pickle you two have gotten yourselves into. As much as I applaud you enabling the good people of District Twelve to self medicate, if I were you, I’d start contemplating a Plan B. But I think I may be able to help. Carry on with your business as usual. Give me a couple of days. I’ll be in touch.” Then he heaved himself up from our table and took a seat at the bar, gesturing at the barkeep with his empty glass. Realizing we’d been dismissed, Gale and I peeled our shoes from the floor and headed home.

Xxxx

The next morning I was saved from complete, lust-induced insanity by Peeta being confined to the kitchen working on a special order cake decoration job. I was strangely relieved to swap the the mind-numbing effect of his presence for Rye’s incessant teasing and complaining. I was far more equipped for that sort of interaction. My time with the Hawthorne brothers had prepared me well.

Whenever an attractive girl would turn up at the counter, Rye would literally push me out of the way to help her. After he had shamelessly flirted with the third or fourth girl that morning, and was going in for a fifth, I used my well-honed evasive tactics to avoid displacement. As he tried to step in front of me and use his sheer bulk to push me back, I side stepped and stomped on his foot. As he faltered, I slipped between him and the counter asking the chesty blonde with too much make up how I could help her. When she requested a scone and looked over my shoulder at Rye, I snapped my fingers at him and pointed at the bakery case out of pure spitefulness.

As soon as there was a lull, he scowled at me. “That was entirely unnecessary. If you were feeling neglected, you could have just said so. Or better yet, used that cute ass of yours more productively when vying for the attentions of the pretty customers.”

I scowled right back and told him to bite me, then quickly regretted it.

“When and where?” he asked, sidling up into my personal space.

“Screw you,” I hissed. Damn it, I clearly wasn’t used to sexual innuendo in my brotherly sparring. The Hawthorne boys preferred creative insults describing my general hideous disfigurement over sexual harassment. I longed for those simpler times.

He shook his head and muttered, “Too easy.”

I could feel myself blush and had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from blurting out that I was flustered out of frustration not girlish embarrassment. Then he followed up with, “Am I to take it that my little bro isn’t meeting all of your needs? ‘Cause I’m up for the challenge, just say the word.” Then he literally winked at me.

I barely restrained myself from hitting him. My face felt like it could burst into flame. I stared up at the ceiling and took a couple of deep breaths, feeling my heart rate slow from the furious gallop.

“Katniss, relax. Seriously, you look like you might have a stroke.” His cocky demeanor morphed into something that actually seemed like concern. “I’m just fucking with you.” He looked over at me and I nodded curtly, still focused on slowing my heart rate. “I would never mess with my brother’s girl, at least not Peet’s. I might have a go at Bran’s as payback for some of his older brother fuckery over the years,” he chuckled, “but I’d never hurt Peet like that. The kid’s been through enough.” His voice was soft and as he stared down at the toe of his shoe drawing patterns on the wood, he looked more like Peeta than I’d ever thought possible. Kindness, I thought, that’s the resemblance. “You are, right? Peet’s girl?” I wasn’t sure what to say, Peeta and I hadn’t even had this talk yet.

“You two know you’re not fooling anyone, right?” he sounded like he was explaining something to a two-year-old. “Jesus, the two of you are the most obvious fucking thing ever. You practically glow when you’re in the same room and have, like, little cartoon hearts bubbling out of your ears whenever you look at each other. It’s completely disgusting really.”

Thankfully I was saved by the tinkle of the bell as a pretty, fox-faced redhead came slinking up to the counter. When I looked over at Rye, the sly grin was back in place. “So, Kitty Kat, you want fight me for this one?” He made an obnoxious hissing sound, while playfully brandishing his claws at me. I shook my head in exasperation and gestured him forward. I rolled my eyes skyward as he practically purred, “How can I help you, Gorgeous?”

I couldn’t deny how her responding smile proved that he had brightened her day. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t a complete asshat.

Right as the lunch rush was dying down, Madge popped in for a visit.

“Can you take a break and sit with me for a few minutes?” She asked. It was weirdly nostalgic to have lunch with her. As we chatted about the bakery (or “rehab program” as she said with air quotes), I was reminded how much I liked her. Our friendship had been another casualty of the shambles my life had become after my dad’s death. Other than Gale and Prim, I really didn’t have anyone. Talking with a girl my age loosened something tight inside me; it was nice to have a friend of my own.

“So, are you still friends with Gale Hawthorne?” She asked sheepishly.

“Uh, yeah.” I shrugged, before noticing the pretty blush spreading up from her neck to engulf her entire face.

“Why do you ask?” I couldn’t entirely keep the teasing tone out of my voice. When she just got pinker, I had to keep myself from demanding, “Not you too.” I couldn’t keep track of the number of times some girl had asked me this question with unbridled hope in her eyes.

Despite the general assumption that Gale and I were some sort of couple, this hadn’t made much of dent in the veritable harem of girls that vied for his attention. It hadn’t even stopped a certain subset of them from enlisting my help and favor. Since getting Gale laid was about as low on my list of priorities as picking out a prom dress, I usually just told them to fuck off. But that didn’t mean that I didn’t want Gale to be happy, I truly did. I just didn’t think the usual array of “ladies” that came sniffing around were actual girlfriend material. But Madge was a different story. Gale had always had a particular soft spot the pretty, blond mayor’s daughter.

Don't get me wrong, Gale was a badass when he needed to be. He had the body and soul of a warrior without a doubt. But at his core, he was a family man. He loved his siblings, listened to his mom and longed for a family of his own. He worked his way through an impressive queue of women, but was always looking for a girlfriend. I had filled that role for him emotionally for years, but we both knew that it would never work between us. The only qualm I felt about hooking Madge and him up was the drug-dealer thing. I didn't think the mayor's daughter-criminal element combo was going to be a benefit to either of their images. But in a way I couldn't exactly put my finger on, they made sense too. And staring across the table at Madge's cautiously hopeful face, I really had no choice.

"Want to come to a party with me this weekend?" I asked.

"Yes, please." She flashed that rare, but completely disarming smile at me.

"What's this about a party," Peeta had walked up behind me and was slipping his apron over his head. Even though he was completely dressed beneath it, that innocent act of undressing accelerated my heart rate.

“Gale’s throwing a solstice party on Saturday.” He nodded encouragingly, but didn’t say anything. I mentally grabbed sack and asked, “Wanna go with me?” His answering smile was the sweetest thing in the shop.

Xxxxx

When I stopped by Gale’s mom’s house that evening, it had been so long since I last visited that I practically had to pry Posey off me so Gale and I could take a walk so we could talk freely. I asked if he’d heard anything more from Snow or Coin. I wasn’t sure if I should be alarmed or pleased when he shook his head no.

“You still throwing the solstice party?” I asked.

“Yeah. Abernathy told us to carry on with business as usual, right? Don’t tell me you want to help with the planning?” He chuckled, laughing at his own joke.

“Not a chance. Be nice or I won’t tell you about your date.” That got his attention.

“You’re not actually setting me up right now, are you? Or have you finally come around for some of the good stuff?” He grabbed his crotch while raising his eyebrows in mock suggestiveness.

“Gross. Madge Undersee has been asking around after you.” I nearly bit my tongue off as he grabbed my shoulder mid-step.

“Are you serious? The mayor’s wicked-hot daughter is asking about me?” His voice was about an octave higher than usual. I just nodded, to keep from laughing in his face.

“I had such a thing for her in school,” he mused, looking dreamy.

“I’m aware. Apparently it wasn’t completely one-sided.” It was fun to see Gale so excited about something that he lost his cool a little. It didn’t happen often. “Here’s her number. Don’t fuck up. We’re friends.” I didn’t have too many friends, a fact of which Gale was well acquainted.

“Got it. Thanks, Catnip,” he said, plucking the slip of paper from my hand and pocketing it. Maybe this party was going to be fun after all.

On Saturday, after a short shift at the bakery, I headed over to Gale’s to help set up. The Solstice party was like a glorified block party that took place in the meadow that bordered the woods. It was like a Seam-wide potluck, no pun intended, with local bands, lots of food and lots of pot. It was an opportunity for us to give something back to the neighborhood and clear out last year’s supply before harvest.

After a few hours of manual labor and verbal sparring with Gale and his boys, I headed home to get ready. As I showered and conditioned, then reconditioned, my hair, I realized that this was kind of my first real date. And even more horrifying, I was really excited, as the butterflies in my stomach could attest.

Peeta was waiting at the stop sign as I walked up. He looked different dressed in street clothes. His jeans were nice and fit him snugly in all the right ways and he was wearing a dark red button down that made his eyes seem unreasonably blue. I scuffed the toe of my Converse sneaker wishing I’d chosen something a little nicer than my frayed jeans and worn flannel over a ribbed black tank top. The outfit practically yelled, “nothing special here.” Sixty seconds in and I was already kicking myself.

As we turned to walk back towards the Seam, I noticed the rucksack slung over his shoulder.

“Are you planning an overnight excursion here, boy scout?” I asked.

He blushed, “I brought a couple of things. You know, flares, walkie-talkies in case we get separated.” The back of his fingers brushed against mine and it felt like a question. A question I wasn’t sure how to answer, so I linked my arm through his.

When we got to the meadow I was amazed at how lovely it looked in the setting sun. The thousands of fairy lights that we had strung from the surrounding fence and trees made the clearing look positively magical. There were kids everywhere and a huge line of tables adjacent to the stage overflowing with food. Gale’s brothers, Vic and Rory had started a band and were warming up with some Michael Franti covers and the mood it was setting was just right.

Gale came up behind me and snaked a long arm around my shoulders. “Long time, no see, Catnip.” He glanced around me and took in Peeta and my linked arms. “I didn’t know you were bringing a date,” his voice was mixture of annoyance and amusement.

“Yes, well, the things you don’t know could fill a library.” I fought the urge to unlink my arm from Peeta’s. Because, fuck Gale for making me feel self-conscious.

“Let’s get you two a plate,” he said, heading toward the nearest table.

I looked over at the table set apart and lined with a red tablecloth. I gestured at it with my chin and told Peeta, “You’ll probably want to avoid that table, it’s the more herbally diverse fare.” Nodding, he walked towards it anyway. I figured he hadn’t understood, but as we reached the table, Peeta pulled a tin out the backpack and pried off the lid. The resulting aroma of chocolatey goodness had me sticking my face in the tin. Then I caught the skunky underlying scent and understood.

“Get it, the baker plus the grower equals pot brownies!” he said, gesturing between us. He looked unreasonably pleased with himself.

Gale guffawed loudly and reached over my shoulder to grab a brownie. “If these taste as good as they smell and get me ripped? We’re gonna have to have a business discussion.”

“Where did you even get… it?” I had meant what I said, I didn’t want him mixed up in any of this.

“Rye. He had some for recreational purposes. I did it right, simmered the herb with the butter in double boiler for over an hour and everything. I think they’re going to be really good.” He was appealing to me like he was trying to convince me that he’d done a good job. He was really too cute for his own good.

“So, Katniss, you gonna have one or what?” Gale was enjoying my apparent discomfort far too much. I shot him a withering glare.

So the truth of the matter was that I had never really enjoyed smoking weed, at least not around other people. Gale compared me to a vegetarian cattle rancher. When I was straight and around high people, their ridiculousness was lame, but tolerable. But when I was stoned and confronted with their dopey grins, unfinished sentences and dreamy gesticulations, my internal irritation would ratchet up to barely containable rage. Gale found it hilarious and totally fitting that when my inhibitions were relaxed I became furious rather than mellow. Additionally, I had obviously never shared this part with Gale, but getting high made me... horny? I don’t know if horny was exactly the right description for the sensation, but let’s just say physically stimulated. Like I could feel each beat and pulse of the music and each base note reverberated as a throb of my clit. Like my lady parts were hard wired to the music. Weird, I know, and incredibly disconcerting. The thought of that sensation with Peeta anywhere in the vicinity was a recipe for madness, or at least some really slutty decision making.

I stared up into Peeta’s adorable and hopeful face. “Okay, half. One of us needs to keep our wits about us.” The brownie was decadent and amazing and the skunky undertones were strangely complementary to the chocolate he had used. I had a feeling that wasn’t an accident. Despite his easygoing nature, there was a cunning cleverness under his soft exterior. It wasn’t obvious, but it was the scaffolding upon which he built his kindness. I think it was what I liked best about him. That and his beautiful, sparkling eyes. And his soft, warm lips. And his huge hands. And his smooth, hard abs, and, okay, these brownies might be seriously potent.

As I listened to myself giggle, yes, giggle, at something Peeta had said, I felt like I was hovering outside of myself. I slowly realized I was high, pleasantly so. It had come on so gradually, I hadn't distinguished it from day moving through twilight to dark; a dark dominated by fairy lights and the full moon. The meadow looked seriously ethereal. I tilted my head back and watched the moon go in and out of focus along with the thump of the beat from the bass.

Gale’s brothers and their bandmates had started their original set and they actually sounded really good. Scary good; good in a way that had me swaying to the music without even realizing it. I was just registering the foreign feel of my loosening limbs as my hips swayed to the thrumming beat when I glanced over and saw Haymitch smirking at me. He raised his flask in a pantomime toast. But instead of annoying me, like it normally would have, it was strangely nice. I flipped him off anyway, but he winked seeming to recognize it as a good-will gesture. Then, Peeta's lovely face appeared in front of me.

"Hi,” he said with a goofy grin, that I realized must be his high face.

I grinned goofily back at him, I couldn’t really control my features enough to stop it. He held out his hand to me and gestured towards the dance "floor" with a tip of his bouncy blond head. I held his hand and marveled at how he cut a swath through the thickening crowd of revelers.

When we arrived at a spot that seemed to satisfy whatever criteria he had, we stared at each other, awkwardly moving to the music. Then he looked over like he couldn't fight it any longer and he began to dance. And, fuck me, he was a really good dancer. He had incredible rhythm, and moved with a strangely graceful abandon for such a heavy-footed guy. In a dreamy epiphany, I realized I might love everything about him, might love him. I pushed the unnerving thought aside, knowing I would need to revisit that issue in a more sober state.

What I was sure of was that I was having a uncharacteristically and tremendously good time. I couldn’t remember ever enjoying being high this much, or liking a party this much, or tolerating so many people so well. Peeta had a way of making everything in my life better than I ever thought possible.

I was sweaty and grinning like an idiot when the music transitioned into a whimsical slow song. Without missing a beat, he pulled me to him and wove his arms loosely around my waist. I leaned into him and my head found that magical spot in the crook of his neck. I didn’t even try to disguise the fact that I was blatantly smelling his sweaty neck.

“Did you just sniff me?” he asked, pulling back slightly.

“Mmmhmm.” I murmured, letting my lips rest against his fevered skin. “Must be pheromones.”

“Is that a good thing?” he asked, resting his cheek against my hair and inhaling.

“Very good.” My body was abuzz, I desperately wanted to kiss him, rid him of these annoying clothes, and taste every inch of him. I was seriously questioning what possible reason there was for him to wear so many clothes. He looked amazing without them and there really shouldn’t be so much fabric between us. It was high (ha!) time for some slutty decision making. But just then I caught sight of Prim swaying languidly in front of the stage and staring up at what had to be one of the Hawthorne boys. I felt my fevered skin cool a degree or two and realized I needed to calm the fuck down before I ended up dry humping Peeta Mellark at the solstice party, surrounded by our neighbors. I was a complete mess.

Peeta seemed to feel my shift in mood and as the song ended, he grabbed my hand.

“It’s getting awfully late for a baker. Walk me home?” Bread angel, I silently corrected him, but I nodded, grateful for the excuse to be alone with him. He retrieved his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder before grabbing my hand.

As we walked, hands entwined, I asked, “So you know that thing you said about us becoming best friends?“ He nodded and I continued, “I think I may want more than that.”

His breath whooshed out as turned to me. “Thank God! I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands off you!” He dropped the backpack, backed me up against the nearest building and ran both of his amazing hands up my neck to cup my face. I felt like there was probably more to say about this, but the next thing I knew he was kissing up my jaw with those soft, warm lips and devouring me in a searing kiss. A niggling voice in the back of my head shouted that I was standing on a public street corner for fuck sake and to knock it off immediately. But the rest of me decided I should wrap both my arms around his solid shoulders and kiss him back like my life depended on it.

We kissed for days and when we finally broke apart, our lips were swollen and and chests heaving like we’d sprinted a mile. Peeta wrapped me in the warmest hug there had ever been and said ruefully, “Just so we’re completely clear, I can call you my girlfriend now, right?”

“Yes, I’ll allow it,” I responded imperiously, still feeling the silly aftershocks of the pot and PDA.

He looked down at me solemnly and added, “So you know what this means, right?”

“Uh…” My mind was too flooded with giddiness and lust to form coherent thought.

“One of us is going to need to get an apartment.”

He pressed his lips to mine in a tantalizingly soft kiss and whispered, “Goodnight” into my ear, sending shivers down my neck.

Yeah, one of us really, really would.

[crystalelemental]

What are your top 6 Pokemon Spinoff games?

All of them are Explorers of Sky, good night.

1) Explorers of Sky.  To the shock and surprise of literally no one.  It’s the best one.  Hell, as I write this, it’s the only one I can actually think of.  I haven’t played a ton of the Pokemon spinoff games, but like...this one sold it.  It’s a shame that, to my mind, nothing since in the Mystery Dungeon games has really lived up to its success.  Gates to Infinity just kinda fell flat in the story department for me, and while I hear Super Mystery Dungeon was solid in that realm, I am literally incapable of moving past not getting to nickname all the other Pokemon, and having to unlock them through these quests.  Maybe I’m an old man who doesn’t like change (confirmed) but I just think the changes and directions they went with things didn’t hold up.

2) Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Red/Blue Rescue Team.  While nowhere near the level of great as the next gen of Mystery Dungeon games (largely due to its over-fixation of obnoxious dungeon conditions and rooms where literally every spot is a trap), it’s still a solid game that was fun and engaging and started the series off.  Plus it made Ninetales and Xatu super relevant.  That’s gotta be worth something.

3) Pokemon XD: Gale of Darkness.  I think it’s probably just because I remember this one better, but it was a solid side-game.  Shadow Pokemon were an interesting concept, and getting to focus on capturing other people’s Pokemon was an interesting twist from the standard play.

4) Pokemon Coliseum.  Imagine the above, but your starter Pokemon are Espeon and Umbreon.  A+ choices, my dudes.

5) Pokemon Snap.  I’m running out of ones I’ve played, and the remainder aren’t very good, so Snap it is, by virtue of having some level of fun, even if it’s pretty bare-bones.

6) Pokemon Rumble World.  Let’s be clear: I don’t really like Rumble World.  At all.  It started out as free to play hell, and it shows.  HOWEVER!  I feel it has earned recognition as literally the only free to play hell game to ever do the best possible thing.  It put a cap on how much you could spend, and set it at the cost of a full game.  After that, you could build a facility in-game to give you the purchasable currency.  THAT is how you do a free-to-play game.  There’s no infinite pay to win bullshit.  You can pay if you want or play at your own pace, but if you decide to pay, you just get the currency forever after.  I wish other things would do this, but alas, that’s not a money-making scheme by producing something with the visual appearance of a game but lacking in any sort of substance.  Like Pokemon Go!  Yes I’m going there.