#fuck it bring back delly

[kitnita]

whatever, i've reached a state of zen about it all actually. i don't want to blow up the team -otter with my mind anymore. they're just trying to build on the near-reverse-sweep vibes of last year's playoffs and lull all of vegas into a false sense of security by sucking as much as humanly possible

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Not Rated Fics Masterlist (12)

Part 1 /Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 /Part 8 /Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 /

Created: May 12th, 2024

Last Checked:-----

Backup Plan-sponsormusings/promptsinpanem (tumblr) Summary: Throughout their final two years of college, and even after they graduated, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were each other’s beard, their saviour in case of unwelcome advances or a bad dating emergency. And it had all worked perfectly.

Give Me an Oh!-peetasbunmyoven (tumblr) Summary: The prompt was coach Peeta and player Katniss. Now since I know some fics like these do exist or at least a few soccer ones do I went a very different direction with the most unKatniss sport I could think of. I give you Cheerleader Everlark.

In for A Penny-muttpeeta (tumblr) Summary: an Everlark drabble for trivia anon.

Looks Absolutely Delicious-peetasbunmyoven (tumblr) Summary: Part 1 / Part 2 / Jesus fuck okay so I’m a waitress at this restaurant that’s open really late and it’s nearly 1am and this family comes in and I’m so tired that I handed their BLIND SON a menu and he’s like “ah… thank you… I’ll just… read this” in a serious voice and I fucking snorted

Meet Me At Our Desk-Abagail_Snow (tumblr) Summary: working their first shift together, their schedules never matching up before

Missing You-everlarkbirthdaydrabbles (tumblr) Summary: Shower Time for Peeta missing Katniss

Reciting Vows…Twice-peetasbunmyoven (tumblr) Summary: drabble where Peeta says sth like "on our wedding day i'm gonna recite my vows twice. Once at the altar. Once again in the bedroom. With my tongue. On your p***y. One letter at a time."?

The Apron-waywardangel-wilds (tumblr) Summary: Peeta sees Katniss in a baking apron for the first time and loses his SHIT. 13 year old Peeta is screaming inside him. He has to, like, sit in the walk-in for a bit. Do some breathing exercises. This is BEFORE "so after" so the pining is still PEAK.

Will You Marry Me?-endlessnightlock (tumblr) Summary: Delly is young and seems relatively inexperienced in matters of finding unmarried ladies in bed with known rakes. I’m afraid I’ve given her a great surprise, for she twitters like a little bird in the doorway of the room, searching for the words to say.

Wrong Number, Right Time-muttpeeta (tumblr) Summary: Peeta plops down on his couch with a weary sigh and drops his head on the back of his sofa, propping his feet up on the coffee table. He lets himself close his eyes for a moment, reveling in the silence of his apartment, the steadiness of his deep breaths, before he finally pulls his phone out of his pocket and brings up his contacts. He scrolls through the list until he finds what he’s looking for. Glimmer. His ex-girlfriend. or so he thinks

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Something I think about a lot in the hunger games movies is the way younger Peeta's hair is brunette.

You know, the scene where he throws Katniss the bread? Why is his hair brown?

Does he bleach it? And if so, why?? He went through the trauma of the hunger games and came home like "hold up lemme touch up my roots"??

Or did younger Peeta just dye his brown?? Or am I insane and his hair was just supposed to be, like, wet or something and that's why it was dark?

Anyways please give me your thoughts on bottle blonde Peeta it's driving me crazy thanks 🙏

Anon I have incredible news about my thoughts on Bottle Blonde Peeta™️

I actually somehow forgot to bring this point up though because you're right. I don't- how-

Like, listen. I'm a dirty blonde naturally and if an iota of oil gets on that shit it looks like the blackest brown I've ever seen. But my god, he ain't even wet! (RIP Josh Hutcherson, you got did done so fucking dirty that entire series and you were so nice about it. You would've loved wigs. Good on you for getting one in that end scene.)

No but honestly, I like- okay. I love the idea that after Peeta gets out of the first Hunger Games, finds out Katniss was lying about her feelings and just storms to the town beautyshop like "I need brows and lowlights, fucking stat." Because his 'Catching Fire' was was scrumptitiyumyum in the most Bottle Blonde Peeta™️ sense imaginable. I literally was talking about this series with my bestie who's a hairdresser yesterday and according to her, Peeta's untoned, noodle poodle hate crime ass with the dark as my demon soul at 9 o'clock on a Sunday morning ass roots is a punishment from the Capitol for his bullshit and a lack of care on the part of District 13.

But circling back to 'Catching Fire,' it is canon in my heart and soul that Peeta poured his heart out to Delly about his latest traumas in his sparkling new bomb ass bathroom while she dyed his roots and tinted his brows to show he's an independent man who ain't need no Katniss. (While sobbing to Taylor Swift about how much he wants Katniss.) Which lead to him just having the worst dye job for the rest of the series until he finally stops fucking with it after he marries Katniss. (He would be such a hair guy, I'm sorry.)

(I also adore the idea that Peeta eventually stops tinting his brows one time because he feels like he's too old for that shit only to recieve a bottle of Just For Men in the mail that is clearly from Haymitch. He could've just walked over here and given it to him that way, but that would've required seeing Browless Peeta™️ and he's had enough trauma for one life.)

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

The Tremaine Girls

Technically, in Dead Beauty AU, but since they couldn’t care less about the plot, you can read this as one-shot. Evie’s visit at the salon.

Dulcia rinses off her hands and prepares to close the salon. It is her turn today, as Anthony decided he was taking a day off – that decision had absolutely nothing to do with how Ginny Gothel looked yesterday, Dulcia is sure.

Absolutely nothing.

She huffs a little, as she doesn’t think that her cousin being unable to deal with moderate doses of poison should mean more work for her. He should just develop an immunity and/or walk it off like a man, you know.

She shakes off the water from her hands, as she refuses to touch a towel Jaxon from the Shadow Keep just used; the droplets splatter on the already dirty floor. She’ll call Desdemona or Angelica to clean it, later.

The doors open.

She breathes in sharply, fully prepared to yell any variation of „Get the fuck out“ at the top of her lungs. Then she takes in who walked in, the familiar shade of dark blue hair and bloody lipstick.

„Girls!“ she shouts instead, „We have a visit, come down!“

Dani and Dolly, who were working in the salon with her, rush to her side first, as their visitor calmly walks in.

„Evie!“

„Dulcia!“ Evie takes her hands and kisses both of her cheeks in exaggerated greeting, „Long time since we’ve talked, and you look lovely as ever!“

The Evil Queen’s daughter was always such a flatterer – part of the reason Dulcia likes her so. The other part, of course, being how much she’s willing to spend on her already perfect looks.

Evie greets Dani the same way, and compliments her on her eyeliner; „Is that a new look?“

Unfortunately, it is not, and if you ask Dulcia, it is tacky at best, but Danique refuses to see reason. In her humble opinion, Danique is just copying Harriet Hook, who is hanging around entirely too much.

Either way, the rest of her sisters and cousins sans Anthony made their way downstairs, and she snaps her attention back to make sure no one is harmed too much and the salon stays standing.

She watches as Evie kisses the cheeks of the older ones, hugs the younger ones and even lifts Delilah on her hip.

„She’s much too old for that,“ Dulcia scoffs, „Stop babying her.“

„Nonsense, Dellie, isn’t it,“ coos the princess of all Evil, touching the child’s cheek with her nose and pointedly not putting her down.

Dulcia scoffs again as Dellie laughs in joy; she’ll want to be carried all the time now, and she’s getting too heavy for Dulcia to lift.

She’ll just have to redirect her to annoy Anthony, then.

Still, she takes her little sister from Evie and carefully puts her down, gently nudging her towards the sitting area.

„Come, sit,“ she says to her girls, „Deborah, be a dear and go make us all some tea.“

She ignores Deborah’s long face and Evie’s performative protests, waving her words away.

„Long since we saw you, indeed,“ she says, „How’s Auradon treating you? Any Prince Charming or a knight on white horse on the horizon?“

„Is he rich?“ interrupts Deborah rudely, calling out from the kitchenette. Dulcia knew why she sent her away.

„Yes, yes, that too,“ she allows as she sinks on her favourite spot on the sofa, subtly nudging Dellie to climb on Dani’s lap instead, „Is he very rich? Does he own a lot of mirrors?“

„Did you bring us anything from Auradon?“ interrupts Dizzy with wide eyes and Dulcia inclines her head slightly – she’d just love a gift.

Evie laughs, just like the so unfortunately lost glockenspiel, and eventually says: „Actually, yes, I did bring you gifts.“

Notably, Dulcia doesn’t straighten up at that unlike many of her younger relatives, retaining her posture. She is a lady and she won’t fall over herself at the mention of free shit, thank you very much.

„It was… A bit last minute, this whole thing, really,“ Evie gestures dismissively in the vague direction of the port, „but I did bring you something.“

Dulcia nods in feigned understanding, not really interested in any sorts of pirate drama right now, not when Evie reaches for her purse to pull out the presents.

First, she lays down a box on the table right in front of Dulcia. „Chocolate,“ she explains as Dulcia runs her finger over the lid, „Got this from an overeager customer, but I can’t eat it. I’m watching my figure, you understand.“

Of course, Dulcia understands.

„Of course,“ she agrees as she slowly puts a bonbon on her tongue, letting it melt. Fuck– it’s good. She decides Anthony doesn’t need to know about this present of theirs.

„For the little ones,“ Evie continues, and Dulcia passes the box to the older sisters with an over-heavy sigh, as apparently, no more chocolate is coming.

Evie shakes some brightly-wrapped lollipops in the air, leans forwards and whispers conspiratorially: „I stole this from a baby.“

She winks when Dellie giggles.

„Oh, darling, what sorts of manners are you teaching them?“ Dulcia says, mostly just to be annoying, and snatches another chocolate for herself.

„I’ll have you know I’m passing Remedial Goodness with shining grades.“

„You’re lying to the poor teacher through your teeth, aren’t you.“

„Of course I am,“ Evie flashes the room a shining smile as she reaches to her purse again; Deborah finally comes, bearing a tray of tea. She puts it down and reaches for the chocolate, Annie clammers to settle on the lap of her favourite sister.

„Thank you,“ says Evie.

„Anyway, figured you could use this.“

A small array of full nail polish bottles is set on the table and Dulcia quickly decides Anthony doesn‘t need to know about these either; no way she’s letting these beauties end up in the salon.

And as for dear old grandmother, well, what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.

„And something extra for my favourite little designer,“ finishes Evie, passing a shiny notebook to Dizzy, and Dulcia snorts.

„Disgusting favouritism,“ she mutters under her breath and drives her elbow into Dani’s side for doing the same.

„I'd have brought more,“ sighs Evie, delicately sipping on her tea, „But Mal decided she couldn't keep dating Ben any longer and that she needed to get back to the Isle right this second. Why is frankly beyond me.“

Dulcia takes a moment to process what she said, ignoring the familiar insult to their home. Deborah does no such thing:

„What the fuck do you mean, couldn't keep dating the king?!“ she blurts out.

„Language,“ scolds Dulcia on instinct, „Really though, what the fuck. Did he threaten to kill her firstborn daughter or what?“

Honestly, Dulcia struggles to conceive of a reason to dump the bloody high king short of murder. And, frankly speaking, that could be forgiven too. Maybe with an apology necklace, brilliants and gold. Maybe pearls. She’d need to think it over.

„Don’t be so hard on her,“ sniffs Evie disdainfully, „It’s been tough for her.“

Yeah, while the Isle is a walk through roses orchard – Dulcia doesn’t bother hiding her grimace in her cup of tea.

Actually, she could do with a glass of red wine right now, too.

„Really,“ insists Evie, „It was. Everyone wanted her to change, as if– as if she could be more perfect than she already is.“

Dulcia lifts her lips in a small smile, aimed at Deborah and Danique. She has a sinking feeling they know something Evie doesn’t.

„She could have given us a little bit more of a notice before she decided to run off, though. I – we wouldn’t hold it against her.“

Evie wouldn’t, Dulcia is sure.

On completely unrelated note:

„Dani, sweetheart, would you fetch me the red wine from the kitchen?“

„Make Debbie do it,“ argues Danique, gesturing to Annie sitting on her lap and apparently unwilling to move.

„Debbie made us tea,“ decides Dulcia, „You bring the wine. Annie can go with you, help you carry the glasses.“

You see, Dulcia just needs to drink to that poor knight in shining armour that will inevitably end up playing the second violin.

Before she can ask if there is such unfortunate, rich, fellow, Dizzy interrupts:

„Yeah, well– The king. Shouldn’t you do something about that?“

Evie picks at her nails a little, humming in non-response. Quick glance tells Dulcia that she’s just waiting for Dani and the wine to get there.

Fortunately, it doesn’t take long.

Dulcia takes her glass from her younger sister and watches as Evie swirls the wine in hers before finally answering: „Nah. Builds character, you know. It’ll be good for him.“

And, you know, Dulcia recognises jealousy speaking if she hears it. She hides her expression in her wine as she shares a conspiratorial glance with her sisters.

„A king should know how his subjects live,“ states Addie with all the self-importance she’s capable of, and Dulcia drinks so she wouldn‘t laugh at the smart-ass little girl. She just started lessons with their Grandmother, it wouldn’t do to discourage her.

„Exactly,“ nods Evie.

„And you’d know it, right? You’re a princess,“ adds Addie, hoping for more praise.

„That’s right, little one.“

Evie really is spoiling them.

„A princess needs a prince,“ challenges Annie, sucking on her lollypop, „Do you have one?“

„Not a prince, but– there is a boy,“ Evie frowns slightly, „He’s… adequate, I suppose.“

Such a high praise, indeed, but– adequate is as far as any noble girl could possibly want, so Dulcia doesn’t comment any.

She just smiles and listens as her sisters ask all the important questions:

„Is he rich?“

„Does he own a lot of mirrors?“

„Do you have a picture?“

„No, no, and yes, actually, I do,“ answers Evie as she reaches for her purse again, fishing out a strange mirror-like device that Dulcia doesn’t really care to ask about. She fiddles with it for few seconds before passing the thing to Dulcia – eldest sister privileges.

„Pass,“ Dulcia comments, barely sparing the picture a second glance, „Really, girl? Why him?“

„He’s nice–“

Yeah, Gaston is nice too, when he wants to get a girl to fuck him.

Thus, Dulcia only scoffs, passing the device to Dani, so the other girls could pass their judgement too.

„Pass,“ decides Dani, sending Evie a vaguely insulted look; Annie repeats after her. 

Deborah passes too, but Angelica decides on „Smash“ after a moment of hesitation – she’s been feeling very grown up lately.

Dulcia grimaces at her little cousin: „Get better standards,“ she advises her.

„What? I like his hair, it looks soft.“

„Get better standards and you’re banned from the salon until I know you won’t give any of our dear paying customers a haircut like that.“

Unimpressed with Angelica’s pout, Dulcia drinks from her wine deeply.

Really, the youth these days–

Dulcia behaved much more sensibly at her age, she’s sure.

„Who’s he anyway?“ asks Dani, successfully feigning an adequate level of interest.

„Doug, son of Dopey. One of Snow’s dwarves,“ Evie adds quickly for the benefit of those present who had much more important shit to do than memorise „heroes’“ sidekicks.

Debbie mutters something about cross-species breeding – she’s been spending entirely too much time by the Overgrowth – and Dulcia leans forward to ask the arguably much more important question:

„Sooo, did the dwarven anatomy carry over? Especially, y’know,“ she drops her voice to a whisper, for the sake of common decency all around, „down there.“

Evie chokes on her wine.

When she recovers from her coughing fit, she answers: „I wouldn’t know–“ with a barely contained sneer.

„Why, saving yourself till marriage, princess?“ teases Dulcia. It’s just so fun seeing her all flustered.

„You had no such sensibilities the last time you visited,“ adds Dani with a small smirk; Evie’s blush only grows in the resulting catcalls that Dulcia lets go on for entirely too long. And that she might be participating in, just a little bit.

„Anyway,“ Evie finally manages to get a word in, „I was wondering, Mal wanted some colour bombs, could we use your stuff? I don’t feel like tracking down the Faciliers.“

Dulcia clicks her tongue. Colour bombs are distasteful, but the people do need to visit the salon after, so honestly, it’s fifty fifty: Meanwhile, Evie offers an explanation no one asked for: 

„You know, as a distraction for the pirates.“

Distraction for the pirates, sure. Those crazy fuckers will probably enjoy it too.

Dulcia shrugs her shoulders: „Fine. As long as you pay for it.“

„Didn’t expect anything less.“

„A distraction, you say?“ new voice asks, Ivy de Vil poised dramatically in the frame of the doors, „That’s gonna be fun.“

„We’re closed,“ Dulcia informs her. This girl, honestly.

„Are you, though.“

She walks over, swaying her hips entirely too much, and drops a haphazardly tied bundle of cash notes into Dulcia’s hand.

„I’ve changed my mind,“ announces Dulcia, „What do you want?“

„I need new manicure,“ says Ivy with a theatrical whine, flashing her nails to the audience and earning sympathetic coos in return, „See?“

„What a tragedy,“ deadpans Dulcia, „Do join us.“

Ivy immediately flops down, stealing Evie’s wine in the process.

„Oh,“ she notes, almost as an afterthought, „Diego’s at the port now. He’ll kill you if you get any of those wild colours on him, by the way.“

Evie nods with overemphasized seriousness and Dulcia drinks – seems like she will be hearing about port drama today anyway.

[thesweetnessofspring]

@sanjarka @distractionsfromthefood requested an Everlark fic based on this post. Hope you guys like it! Rated T.

With the semester over, Peeta had nine paintings that were nearly identical: a pair of feet against various surfaces, from the angle of the feet's owner. Grass, asphalt, sand, carpet, wood, tile, dirt, in a puddle, and under water. It was funny hearing his classmates talk about it: what the symbolism of the feet meant (being steady, being young, going on a journey) and what the various textures underneath it invoked (discomfort, calm, home). Several people joked Peeta had a foot fetish. That joke got old really fast.

The truth was, since he lost his left leg when he was sixteen in a skiing accident, he'd been obsessed with painting his feet how they had been, before the phantom pains and and doctors appointments and expensive prosthetics and awkward responses from people when they found out about it. As if painting them would bring them back.

But now, getting ready to move out of the dorm for the summer, Peeta couldn't stomach looking at them anymore. He couldn't paint a new leg into existence. It had been pointless spending an entire semester on this one angle, this one subject.

He tossed the paintings in the dumpster by his dorm, other unwanted furniture and decor items abandoned there. Relieved, he went on to his summer vacation.

When he returned in fall, his childhood friend Delly made the transfer from community college to the university and invited Peeta over to her place to hang out. When Delly opened the door, over her head hung one of Peeta's feet paintings, the one with the grass. To break up the green he'd added some dandelions, bright spots of yellow around the feet.

"What are you doing with my painting?" Peeta asked before saying hi. Delly hadn't even been in the area at the time he'd thrown them out.

Delly turned around. "That? That belongs to my new roommate, Katniss. It's one of yours?"

Peeta nodded, wary of this. It felt too personal to be hanging up in his friend's living room. Why had her roommate picked this up? It was a picture of feet for god's sake. He'd gotten enough shit just in his class, he couldn't imagine taking someone home only for them to see that and get ideas.

"Let me get her to ask," Delly said. "Come on in!"

Peeta followed Delly inside and closed the door while his friend retreated to the bedroom, knocking on a door and then going inside to talk to her roommate.

A petite girl with dark hair in a braid and wearing an oversized hoodie and shorts came out, gray eyes wary as she took Peeta in.

"I was explaining to Katniss how you painted this," Delly said, way more enthused than either of them in the room. "Oh, by the way, Peeta, this is my roommate, Katniss; Katniss, this is my oldest friend Peeta."

"How did you get it?" Peeta asked, annoyed. He had thrown them in the dumpster. The dumpster! Who the hell took something out of a dumpster and hung it on their wall?

"I found it," she said, arms folded across her chest.

"Where?"

"Outside."

"In the dumpster?" Peeta scoffed. "You had to go to the trash to find some decoration? Couldn't just buy a poster like a normal person?"

"Not everyone has money for that kind of thing!" Katniss spat back. "And it's your art that was in the trash. Guess everyone thought it sucked, huh?"

"Everyone except you."

"Fuck you, I just wanted something to put on my wall. You're the one being weird about it."

She turned and marched back to her room. Delly frowned at Peeta. His behavior was very different than his normal friendly self, even if she could connect the dots between the painting and Peeta's amputated leg.

"You were a jerk, Peeta," she said after Katniss slammed her door, her voice getting squeaky like it did when she was upset. "You have to go apologize."

Peeta glowered at her for a moment, but knew it was true. He had been a jerk. He just hadn't expected to have to see that art again, that art he hated from his head to the stump he'd been left with.

"Fine," Peeta said. He walked over to the door Delly had knocked on earlier and gave it three raps.

"I'm not interested in watching the movie with you and Van Gogh over there," Katniss called behind the door.

"Van Gogh would like to apologize," Peeta said. He waited, listening for a shuffle of feet and Katniss inched the door open, just enough to make out the width of an eye.

"Go ahead."

"I'm sorry for snapping at you and being rude," Peeta said. "And insulting your methods of furnishing your place. And for implying you're not normal. I'd like to start over, if you don't mind. Delly's my closest friend and you're her roommate, so we're bound to be interacting more."

She opened the door wider, then sighed and rolled her eyes. "Whatever, it's fine. I've had my share of lashing out."

"Yeah, it wasn't about you," Peeta said. "I didn't expect to see that painting again."

Katniss wrinkled her nose. "You did paint a lot of feet."

Peeta laughed. "It's not a fetish, I promise."

"What was it, then?"

"The artist is dead," Peeta said. "What did you see when you picked it out?"

"Oh, god, are you one of those unbearable, pretentious artsy people?" Katniss asked, her expression of disgust growing deeper.

"Only sometimes." Peeta grinned. "But really...I didn't think anyone would like it. Why'd you pick that one out of the trash?"

She narrows her eyes, considering him. Finally, she says, "The dandelions. My dad refused to kill them in the yard. Drove our neighbors nuts. But he loved them."

Peeta liked talking to Katniss about this. She didn't judge it based on technique or color theory or some connection to some other artwork by someone he hadn't heard of. Funny how talking to normal people about it the answer was so simple. It reminded her of her dad.

"Why'd you throw it out?" Katniss asked.

In response, Peeta lifted up his left pant leg to show the prosthetic to her. When her gaze followed the motion, her mouth hung slack in shock.

"Oh. That sucks." Katniss said, then winced. "Shit, was that like, ableist? My sister's trying to tell me to be better about stuff like that-"

"It's fine," Peeta said. "I lost it four years ago. It does suck."

"I lost my dad four years ago," Katniss said. "Your painting reminded me of something I lost and can't get back, too."

They wouldn't act on it for three more months, but that moment struck a spark between them, ever so hesitant and fragile. But Peeta brought the kindling and Katniss the oxygen, and on the couch underneath that painting they had their first kiss. They hung it in their first apartment together, and again in the first house they bought after saving money from having a small, private marriage ceremony. That painting, a reminder of what they had lost, but also what they had gained.

[suitetarts]

mosquito bite

Astarion x Original Female Character, Dark Urge Tav (Good) Angst/Comfort, Blood No Bite, Kissing, Fluff (Link to AO3) On a peaceful night in the Elfsong Tavern, Astarion comes across a mosquito and sees himself: a blood-sucking parasite. He continues to grapple with his past traumas and future prospects. His lover, a strong-headed and good-hearted drow adventurer, tries her best to help him. Astarion and Delilah are both works-in-progress, struggling on their way to becoming better people and not giving themselves nearly enough credit. They talk and make out a little bit. :)

Now part of a (loose) series: [Next One Shot]

Gentle strums of a lyre filter through the bricks and beams of the Elfsong Tavern. Boisterous drunks and seedy patrons have long since found a berth to sleep, and only the wistful musician dreaming of lovers would dare to intrude on the silence of this twilight. The candles inside the second floor have been dormant for some time now. Long shadows from the oil street lamps drape over fine furnishings, reaching out with clawed hands at those who have yet to rest.

A familiar buzzing sound and a light whisper on his forearm brings Astarion’s attention away from the lyre’s muffled melody as he lies restlessly in his bed, a welcomed luxury even on another sleepless night. He watches the insect as it dances on his skin and prepares its proboscis to pierce him. Astarion smirks, then a flash of anger crosses his elegant features before crushing the bug under his index finger. A red stain is left behind, blood seeping into the crevices of his fingerprint. Astarion can’t help his body’s sanguine hunger pains at the find; a plump mosquito waltzing right up to him would have been a welcomed meal for the previous 200 years.

A creak of floorboards sends Astarion into a panic. His instincts scream at him; he’s fucked, he’s been caught. If it's Dufey or Godey, the elf will be fine if he can just lick the blood away quickly and try to keep his petulant mouth shut, lest they beat him for being a nuisance. If it's any of his abhorrent siblings, Mr. Favorite Leon especially, then he’ll be begged to share. And gods above, if it’s Cazador…

Delilah was on her way over to have a midnight chat with her pale lover, as they often did in the past few months since getting acquainted with each other and the tadpoles in their heads. Afterall, in addition to the rest of their shared misfortune, a drow and a vampire spawn had much in common: a lack of trust in and from others, and dashing good looks, for starters. As she gets closer however, a rustling and sudden stillness makes her pause. She carefully pulls the canopy back from Astarion’s bed and is greeted by wide red eyes the size of dinner plates. His breathing is short and stuttered, and he looks both defiant and terrified.

Astarion is only vulnerable for a brief moment however, before he forcefully sharpens his eyes and puts on a rehearsed smile as he whispers, “Oh, darling, I was just, erm–”

“‘Just dreaming of my sweet succulent Dellie, until I was bombarded with a thought of Halsin’s greasy hair?’” Delilah sings quietly in a mocking impersonation of his patented cheeky drawl. As playful as she sounds, the slant of her own maroon eyes and her limbs still frozen in place from when she first saw his state betrays her concern for him.

The gig is up, if it was ever even possible to lie to her anymore. Astarion shrinks as she sits beside him. “It haunts me that he uses the same soap bar everywhere,” he says halfheartedly. She knows how to get him to talk - sitting comfortably in his lying, sad sack house of cards until he’s ready to let it fall apart.

“Ew,” Delilah laughs, her eyebrows still stitched together in concern. His rehearsed smile fades into a quivering frown, and he turns to look at her through his dark eyelashes. Her heart swells with equal parts love and pity, as much as she knows he would hate the latter.

She leans towards him, moving her arms to hover over Astarion’s lean form. The body of a vampire is not the most conducive to cuddling, thanks to the lack of any mass that isn’t bone, muscle, or cold skin. And in particular, in her limited experience, Delilah has found vampires to be choosy and fickle when they want to be touched. Totally understandable situation, of course, with all that Astarion has been through, but it can be like reaching into a mystery box every time she seeks him out. Delilah has learned this careful dance of respect and waits for a response.

Astarion’s mouth turns slightly upward and he purposefully sways into her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders as she clings to his torso. He opens his mouth to speak, pauses, and starts again carefully, “You startled me.”

“Sorry. Were you having a bad dream?”

“Not technically.” After a pause, he continues in a higher tone of voice, “But also, the damned idiot down there doesn’t know how to keep a tune. It’s rather hard to sleep like this.”

She smiles into his chest. “You’re in a goose down feather bed with silk sheets at the finest tavern we’ve seen in months, and you’re complaining about the music?”

Astarion sneers and clicks his tongue against his fangs. “Darling, you’ve been sleeping on too many mushrooms and rocks underground if you think this is silk. The finest tavern in the Lower City is still in the Lower City. I feel sorry for your lack of standards.”

“By the gods, not this again.” Delilah huffs, her cackles raising in defense. “Silk is silk. You surface dwellers are the ones who make it so complicated, what with this being from Cormyr or that being from Calimshan.” As she’s talking with her hands, she feels a rumble of laughter in his chest and it only angers her further. She spits venom as she continues, “And for the record, all of your taverns are lacking from what I’ve seen so far. I’m loathe to see what kind of embarrassing shit holes you show me in your beloved Upper City.”

Astarion practically purrs at the sight of his little love all worked up. “I don’t recall you showing me anything better when we were in the Underdark.”

Delilah very nearly calls on the Weave within herself to smite him here and now. “You are so annoying–” 

She cuts herself off. His smug, smirking aura is palpable, in stark contrast to the frightened look she saw on his face before entering this embrace. Delilah recognizes this: a careful replacement of his mask. She can’t see his face from where she’s tucked into his chest, and Astarion’s tight hold is nearly a confession. She playfully struggles against him to free herself and he puts up a valiant effort, but any amount of force to keep her controlled could wake the others.

As Delilah turns to face him, her vision catches a small dark patch on his usually perfectly white shirt. She moves her body out of the way to allow light from the street to bring color to it, and she’s rather unsurprised to see its blood.

Astarion follows her eyes down onto the sleeve covering his bicep and groans. He turns his other arm around to see the mosquito’s body and the blood within has been smeared off. A few months ago he would have nearly mourned the loss of perfectly good blood and sucked what he could salvage out of the linen fibers like an animal. Tonight, though, it's just an inconvenience. Even as he complains, a genuine smile in his voice seeps through, “Gods. I just bleached this too.”

She pulls at the fabric of his shirt with a sigh. “Come on then, my love. Let’s go take care of it before the stain sets.”

The pair make their way out of the tavern and into the street, stealing a washing board from some poor sod’s balcony on their way to the nearby public fountain and freshwater spigot. The late hour has Delilah and Astarion almost sleep drunk now that they’ve left the comfort and stillness of their rooms, although their whispers and softened footsteps are tame compared to the shadowy debauchery of the darkened Lower City streets.

Delilah clutches at her stomach as they approach the fountain, quickly finding a seat on the cold marble as she contains her mirth. “I couldn’t believe the look on Shadowheart’s face. She was so mad.”

“Ha! You’d think I stabbed her,” Astarion giggles.

They both work through the laughter, with her preparing the bleaching chemicals and him beginning to pull the stained shirt over his head. The streets are mostly empty, but not barren enough for Astarion to want to flaunt his infernal branding. Before he can even truly hesitate, Delilah hands him her outer robes to cover up with. His bashful glance is all the thanks she needs, and she quickly paws at him to get him out of his white shirt.

Delilah attempts to make quick work of the stain, being careful not to unnecessarily stress the aged fabric that Astarion has spent so many years tending to. His eyes twinkle boyishly as he watches her fumble with the washing board.

“Any harder and my poor blouse will burst at the seams. How old are you to be washing fine clothes so carelessly?”

Her head whips around murderously fast, her eyes on fire and her mouth already in a scowl. “Like I’ve told you a hundred times, I’ve never had to take care of my own clothes before, you ass!”

Astarion laughs at Delilah’s anger, although he quickly corrects himself with a series of “No, no, no!” ‘s as she appears to grind his shirt mercilessly into the metal. A smug smile emerges from her face as she reveals the shirt looking no worse for wear. He dramatically sighs, having been duped by her using his own sleight of hand tricks against him.

At this rather mundane affair, the world seems to pause. The soft yellow glow of dozens of oil lamps, the swaying of flower baskets as the sun’s light begins to set the horizon ablaze, the foggy echoes of jolly parties hanging low to the street’s cobblestones as the city gets ready for a new day, it all pales in comparison to her. Fiery passion but also seemingly limitless understanding and grace for a wretch like himself, and she’s an attractive, powerful drow? It’s almost something he could have expected to see in a porn pamphlet. Astarion can’t help himself from retreating to the hiding spaces of his flirts and creature comforts, but she makes it so easy to be real.

“Del, I–” Astarion starts, but he stutters and loses his steam. As far as she’s concerned, the whole city falls quiet at the sound of her name from his lips. He finds Delilah’s gaze, the deep red wine of her irises reflecting the world around her except the one thing she’s staring at.

Her lips pull sweetly into a smile as her wet, warm hand finds his icy grip on the fountain’s edge. Delilah takes her time before she breaks the silence.  “This is nice, isn’t it?”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever had anything this nice,” Astarion says with a bitter laugh. He pulls at the collar of her robe with his free hand, feeling the soft fabric shift over the scars on his back. 

“We can have this all the time when the brain is gone,” she coos.

Astarion shakes his head, taking her index finger in his hand and pointing it towards the sunrise. “Not this. Not when my tadpole is gone.” He pulls their hands back towards his chest and sighs.

Delilah hums in thought. She could be difficult in her bratty drow fashion, but instead she says mournfully, “This is so beautiful and warm. I'm sorry.”

“Before I got kidnapped, I’d forgotten. And being warm was just–” A parade of lovers flashes across Astarion’s mind, hundreds and thousands of warm kisses and steamy nights all ending at Cazador’s gilded doors. He grunts out of his nose, gripping Delilah’s hand tighter. “I learned to stop missing it. But to lose it again?”

“Everything is different now, Astarion.” She clasps her other hand over their conjoined hold, pivoting on the ball of her foot to kneel in front of him at the fountain. “We can travel the world by its shadows and find a way to cure you.”

“You have no idea how much I want to believe what you say, my love,” he murmurs, too tired to bite his words.

Delilah’s anger is a constant simmer in her blood, perhaps leftover from the black, murderous tar of Bhaal’s heritage. She has struggled against this part of herself in every way, shape, and form, but seeing Astarion like this gets her boiling.

“Believing is for children and liars.” Delilah’s soft features sour on her words, the acidity pulling Astarion away from his self-loathing. “Belief in shitty gods has done neither of us any favors. No, trust me,” she spits. He leans in towards her and hangs on every syllable, her breath hot on his face. “You helped me break my chains to Bhaal. I will cure you of this curse. Trust me–”

Lips crush against hers, Astarion’s grip on her hands loosened by the conviction in her voice and the sweet nectar of her mouth. Delilah gives a short muffled protest before pulling her hands up to cup his face. He opens his eyes briefly, seeing the morning sunlight dancing on her freckled gray neck and his blindingly porcelain arm. Two delicate creatures of darkness, here in the sun. Who is to say he doesn’t belong?

Astarion kisses her and kisses her and kisses her, until his teeth hurt and her hair is twisted in knots in his hands. She licks into him; her warm, pulsing tongue dragging across his fangs. He groans, his muscles tensing painfully like an over-tuned instrument. “You drive me mad,” he gasps into her mouth.

Delilah pulls away, touching a finger to her tongue and almost disappointed to find it unbloodied. The radiant flames she lit in his chest threatens to burn him whole. She’s wrecked and slovenly, a wretch at a public fountain with hair hanging loosely across her face and a muddy flush to her cheeks, and to Astarion she’s positively divine. He’s starving, pulling her in for more.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

If THG's characters are a fanfic writers/readers, what do you feel would be their AO3/ffn account name and icon?

Also, what would be their preferred read (example : rating = K, T, G, M, E; type = canon, canon-divergent, modern AU etc.) and what kind of comments would they leave on a fic?

You can include as many characters as you can or want.

Thank you so much 😊

@curiousnonny

Ooooo fun @curiousnonny

Okay. Let's go.

Peeta: Fan artist. Super involved in fandom. Leaves comments that make fanfic writers weep tears of joy and his url is one of their most anticipated ones in their inboxes. He's not afraid to tell a nasty anon to go stuff it. Also, he drops random fanart presents based on their fanfic without warning. He throws up fandom inspired recipes onto his blog all the time. Preferred rating is across the board. You write it, he'll read it. His icon is his own hand, paint splattered and hovering over his most popular piece of canon compliant fan art. His url is a clever twist on a fandom phrase that somehow brings in a baking pun, or maybe something like fanbaked.

Gale: Does not read fanfiction. The one time he does out of curiosity because he found out about Katniss's fanfiction habit, he accidentally gets involved in a twenty plus comment thread arguing with the writer about whether or not the AU political system the writer has cooked up would actually be viable.

Haymitch: Does not know what fanfiction is.

Effie: Organizes fandom events and challenges but does not write fanfiction. Occasionally beta reads for her faves and makes sure that not only is their grammar impeccable, but she's helped more than one writer fix massive plot holes. Her one weakness... research. She believes almost everything she reads so she's no good backing you up on your research.

Madge: Fanfiction writer. AO3 pen name? 88problemsandfanficaintone. She gets started in each of her fandoms with fix-its, rare pairs, and missing scenes, before the action, previous generations of characters, but eventually she expands into AU's. She devours Rated E fics and gobbles up as much smut as she can, but her fics tend to stay below an M rating.

Johanna: Pen name is her favorite character's name + erotic body part. Crack fic and Fuck the Writers I'm taking this character away from them fics. Never comments because she's banned from doing so ever since she cursed someone out and then found out they were like... thirteen.

Delly: Everyone knows her but nobody knows she's writing under two pen names. Under one, she leaves comments on everyone's fics and is friends with everyone. Characters holding hands is as steamy as she gets. Problematic aspect: will literally fight you over her ships. Under her other pen name, however, she reveals nothing about herself and all bets are off. Her most popular fic under this name involved A/B/O dynamics, tentacles, and a creative use of a kitchen utensil.

Cinna: Masterful canon compliant sweeping epics and he includes illustrations to match his stories. Fandom cryptic.

Finnick: Beta reader extraordinaire. Mainly for Annie, but sometimes for Katniss as well. He and Peeta often have hilarious exchanges in the comments.

Annie: Writes as therapy and the fandom frequently pokes at Finnick to make sure she's actually okay because that last one was kind of dark....

Katniss: Debates with herself on whether or not she should even leave a kudos, but when she does leave comments, writers are usually freaked out and asking if she's been reading over their shoulders... She might be. You don't know. But really she's able to predict what's gonna happen because she is super selective about what she reads (so she knows those authors inside out) and what she writes. The only reason she winds up branching into writing AU is because that one really nice artist left a glowing comment on her first few fics and now she's kind of addicted to getting his thoughts. She panics when it turns out she actually knows him in real life. Fear not. Cue their own 150k+ slow burn and her eventually shyly asking for his help with um... research... "Do I have to get naked for this research?" Peeta teases. Her fics remain T rating and lower on AO3 but Peeta gets to read (and draw for her) the steamy stuff she writes.

This did not exactly answer your questions... oh well.

[mxllitiam]

WHERE: the lottery winners' hotel, gale's suite CLOSED for @dellcartwrights

tw: self-harm, panic.

Gale thought that there would never be anything more painful than watching his best friend be sacrificed into the Games. He was wrong. Back then, even if it had felt like a piece of his heart was beating outside of his chest, he had his mother's hand in his. Hazelle has squeezed her arms around him and combed his hair back and he'd hidden childish tears onto her shoulder as he shook with the tension of watching the first bloodbath.

He was alone now. Sitting on an unfamiliar hotel bed, hugging his knees, teeth biting into the flesh of his cheeks. The air felt poisonous, barely sufficing on its way into his lungs, failing his rapidly expanding chest. He'd tried to keep the window open, but he'd rather suffocate inside these four walls than hear a second longer of that disgusting urban noise overload. Five minutes to the start, he stood. Twenty seconds, he was pacing a hole into the carpet, in front of the television. His stomach had nothing in it to empty itself, but it had sure been trying to. The seconds stretched on unbelievably long, so much slower than the deafening heartbeat pulsing by his eardrums, and then the starting gong went off.

It was a pained blur after that. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't fucking breathe. His mother was a flash, too quick in between camera takes. His eyes burned from barely blinking anymore, his face nearly glued to the screen. He flinched violently with every cannon sound, desperate eyes searching the screen. His nails dug into the palms of his hands until they drew blood, and he only noticed the sting when there were several crescent moons upon crescent moons of dotted red across his hands.

Hours passed and he stayed, gathering dust, immobile. His knees hurt from digging into the carpet, but he couldn't bring any muscle to move himself upright; there was no reason to. He must've screamed himself hoarse at some point, because he could feel the ache in his throat now. He hadn't had any tears to shed, but his eyes still felt heavy as if they'd spent the past few hours being drained. The knock on the door made him wince, suddenly making him aware of his spot on the ground -- the sore in his muscles from holding himself so small, the throbbing of his palms, the headache hiding behind his temples. Sunlight was no longer trickling inside the room, darkness falling over his shoulders like a cloak. He'd been watching his mother rest now, alive, safe, at the end of her first day. She was alive. "Fuck off!" He shouted, his voice a croak but no less threatening. 

The knock persisted. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. The knock sounded again. "I swear to God," he muttered under his breath, feet stumbling over to the door to swing it open with more force than necessary. The sight of Delly was slightly disarming when he'd been expecting a Capitolite, but it did nothing to help dissipate his anger. "The fuck do ya want from me? Huh? Go away, Delly." 

[zenkor123]

In my fic, there isn't any Haymitch guilt but her "abandonment" of Peeta is used as justification for the resource allocations.

In my fic there is less "we made a deal to save him" or "How would Peeta be treating you" but more "Katniss has no connection to Peeta she sucks as a person and Peeta deserves better then her," with Peeta not caring what Katniss does with regards to him and arguing that Katniss would not mind if he wrote off his old Self.

Thomas Lewis D13 guard

"piss off and leave Peeta alone, you left him when he needed you and you don't deserve him" the guard was drunk on morphling. "He's not Peeta" Katniss replied. "Well if you don't want him then that's your loss we'll keep him." "Then keep him, I don't want him" Katniss said."

Haymitch(less constructive more "Damn it sweeheart you messed up and tberes nothing you can do)

"When Katniss told Coin that she has no connection to Peeta Katniss doomed any chances of reversing the resource allocations. Haymitch told her this and was so angry that he said that Coin was right. He does not do the thing that he says in canonical squad 451 becuase Katniss just blew any chance of Peeta returning to himself."

Peeta(not blasting Katniss but arguing that writing off old Peeta will not effect her)

"Katniss who was mentioned all the time in the memory restoration efforts clearly didn't care, she has everything whatever happens to me in the hospital wing does not affect her. If the treatment was done for the star crossed lovers how pathetic was that! She does not give a fuck about me and never did, I am just a mere threat at this point, that's all I am to her, and if all my memories of her are false doesn't that make her a stranger?"

Coin

""The most you've done with citizen Mellark is spar with him and avoid him, we in 13 that have done all the work in bringing the boy to the point that he can contribute to District 13 it is too late for you, you had your chance Soldier Everdeen, he needed you more then then today he does not need you anymore, now he will serve us well and we shall be there for him when he needs us. His recovery cannot depend on an unstable girl that he was conditioned to kill, I believe that waiting for you to step up and provide him with his remaining recoverable memories has only set him back."

Delly Cartwright

"Delly tells her that Peeta is merely treating her the same way she treats him, and Peeta thinks this whole memory restoration was done for Katniss he heard what she said to Coin and treated it as permission, otherwise she could just try befriending other people but Katniss isn't good with friends. Delly concludes "if you were Peeta, trying to bury your old self you wrote off, would you want to have anything to do with Katniss? If the answer is no you have no right to complain about how he treats you. When Katniss calls Delly a hypocrite Delly says "I regret what I said we both gave Peeta the shovel he needed to bury himself and at a deep level he needed your consent to do this. even with my comments if you hadn't said those things to Coin he probably would have suaght you out hoping you would call him a mutt. Yet you did and now he is gone forever.

Just one last thing, Has he thanked you yet?"

So D13 regularly insults her saying she has no moral right to have any say regarding Peeta and does not care for him. She has no right to feel depressed about Peeta D13's position is that she can "fuck herself" it's not "their problem" that she "abandoned her supposed husband in his time of need leaving us to do all the work." They do consider throwing her an institution but don't show any compassion, because she should "piss off and leave Peeta alone" another D13 commander who wasn't Boggs would have taken Katniss off the watch. If Katniss insulted Peeta again on October 4th in her rotation Boggs would have been forced to remove her from the watch on account of her "mental unsuitability." Boggs told her this at the beginning of her rotation. This would be a major step towards institutionalizing her for Coin and be an additional public humiliation for Katniss. Peeta in a sense was on verge of chasing her off his rotation with his gun.

It's unclear if Katniss internalizes this or not. She appears to react by agreeing with 13 "Then keep him, I don't want him" Katniss said." But it backfires and Peeta is the epicenter of a mental breakdown that leads to the destruction of the den. Afterwards, D13 only agrees to memory restoration if Katniss plays an active role in it. D13 at that point determines that she is lying about having no connection with Peeta.

Peeta writes off his old self and Coin backs him in this Katniss feels helpless in doing anything and convinces herself that she has no connection to this Mutt. She does everything to avoid him then act like she has no connection to him the more he goes in 13's direction. Katniss also learns that D13 does not view her as the mighty Mockingjay but an unstable teenager and D13 agrees that she is selfish. The prior memory restoration efforts seem hopeless to Katniss and she does not know how to help. Peeta treats her like she does not even exist. She later joins as a guard where she has to visit ground zero or the events separating new Peeta from old Peeta it is also symbolic of Peeta's post allocation identity that he is serving in the D13 army. The episodes are symbolic of Peeta’s pain and she has always been afraid to go near this. But to not be treated as an unstable girl she goes straight into ground zero. In this ground zero the connection of new Peeta with old is the pain that created new Peeta the connections between the two present like broken and damaged wires. She does not see a seperate person but the destroyed ruins of the old person suffering becuase of her. If Katniss thought Peeta being replaced with a mutt was painful, getting to know the mutt and seeing what Peeta being gone was like from his perspective made it even worse.

If Katniss felt any guilt "he hated me and tried to kill me Peeta's not human" it was repressed by anger since Katniss believed in Peeta's recovery even less and wrapped any shame into her believe that his condition was her fualt. She believed that she deserves to have Peeta shut her out. And Peeta is shutting her out while being in the same room as her and taking all her friends away(if she tries to avoid Peeta then she loses her friends).

If it did bother Katniss that he would never know that he never SA'd her, or that his favorite color is orange not yellow or the exact details of her reactions to cheesebuns. She may blame himself by that point when Finnick panicks about restraining orders. Though there is no evidence that Katniss has any Haymitch like guilt of the type induced in squad 451. Katniss's grief, heartbreak and anger just grows and grows. Though on October 5th it hits her that he does not remember shit. This just adds to her own grief about how Peeta's lost to the hijacking with Peeta’s conflicted yet cavalier additude twisting the knife furthrr. It does not matter if he remembers if he does not consider it his memories and has no ability to verify it outside of himself and thinks they are all false.

Though the bottom line I think it is more she does not see any way to get Peeta back with Coin's resource allocations and Coin baited her into defending her self deceptions. She relies on her self deceptions until they crack under pressure.

[fatefought]

" leave it to you to bring around another talker. i already have to hang around you and effie, " smirk gives him away though. his fondness for mellark and trinket are inherently different, but both present nonetheless. besides, it's not like suddenly haymitch and delly are gonna be paling around. he spends most of his time isolating in his victor village home and his other time at the capitol, neither place that she'd likely be anyways. and like most townies, she's probably smart enough to keep a distance from abernathy anyways.

pain etches on him. peeta's not good at hiding it. but haymitch guesses if you lose a limb, you deserve some grace and sure as hell the right to pain. he'd say complain, but peeta often holds his tongue. he has a bizarre level of practice on that it seems. his mind goes to the blond almost dying in the arena. he was oddly chipper for someone on death's door, even if the boy went into the arena self-sacrificing off the get go. this is why morphling would be good at the moment. it's still so soon since he's come back from the capitol post-operation. the surgery was no big deal there. but even in a cushy home in district twelve, it's a big deal here.

" cane it is, " he quickly remarks while eyes scan the room. he makes his way over to the couch, where the cane lingers close by against the wall. he passes it but then gives peeta some distance. his feet take him back to the kitchen. the baker's son hobbles over to the dining area. abernathy tries not to watch, and make peeta feel like he's the zoo or something. he gets how overbearing this all might be. but at the end of the day, haymitch also was one of the ones who talked to the surgeron while peeta was trying to come to in his hospital suite. he does take this seriously. and a part of him feels an unbearable guilt, that he can't shake off. ( but those words will remain unsaid because what the fuck is sorry gonna do ? )

" cakes a little stale though, huh ? " he remarks with a shrug as he turns back to the countertop in the kitchen. " your walks getting better though, " he mumbles in support. soon he's back to the fridge, and opening that icebox. " you more in the mood for a sandwich or soup ? you must be hungry. i won't put you through my cooking yet. " it sounds like a threat.

Peeta's lips twist up into a grin as Haymitch says he likes that Delly doesn't say much. "Once she starts talkin'," he says. "She won't stop, so enjoy it while ya can." He's teasing, though. Hearing Delly's rambling chatter every day can sometimes be annoying, but usually it's a good distraction. She's really the only one that helps him not feel so isolated - like he knows what's going on out there all the time because of her. Even at the bakery, he tends to shut up and shut his mind off. And visits from Haymitch don't really count because he never brings news.

"I know what it feels like," Peeta says, his teeth gritted from the pain - but maybe from his own frustration, too. He's had morphling and, while it's necessary, he wouldn't say he loves the feeling. Like he's floating, out of control of his own body. His own mind. He hardly feels like he exists at all when the dose is high enough. He looks up and isn't surprised to see his mentor in the doorway. Haymitch might do a good job at hiding it, but he sure does like to hover.

"I'm fine," he lies because he doesn't want to talk about morphling right now. Doesn't like the pull that the drug causes once you're on it enough days in a row. "Cane," he says, holding out his hand for it. "I've gotta get the hang of walkin' around when you're not here to help."

Once it's in his hand, he stands up straighter, a bit shakily, but it hurts a fraction less. "I'm alrigh'," he assures Haymitch a little breathlessly and takes a step forward. It hurts, but he manages okay. "I'm gonna make it to the kitchen." He says it out loud, though it's not particularly meant for his mentor. Just a goal he's setting in his mind - won't stop until he makes it.

And he does, walking ever-so-slowly through the archway with his back teeth grinding down to try and hold himself together. Blissfully, the table isn't far into the kitchen and he finds himself practically falling back down, the chair scratching the floor a bit at the ungracefulness of the movement. He looks up at Haymitch and feels the beads of sweat on his forehead, but gives the man a smile. "Piece-a cake," he says sarcastically with a little laugh.

[jlalafics]

Since I think that Katniss has a hatred (or at least strong dislike) of fashion in almost any AU, I would love to see what you do with “I swear to god, I’ll beat you to death with my high heels, if you don’t shut the fuck up. ” from the one-liners prompt list!

First, I'm sorry for the tardiness! However, this idea has been kind of stewing in my head in-between book editing and life.

I think there could be more...?

Also, thank you @jedimandy for the prompt!

Summary: Peeta Mellark returns home for the one wedding he never wanted to attend. Everlark.

------

Stepping out of his car, Peeta took a breath before heading toward the two-story colonial house. It had been years since he had been here, but the place looked as fresh and new as the day that his family moved in.

“Hey loser!” Turning, Peeta was greeted with the familiar grin of his childhood friend, Gale. The man strode towards him, pulling him into his strong embrace as soon as they were within arms’ reach. “It’s been ages, bro! How are you?”

He smiled tiredly at Gale. “Exhausted after a 12-hour flight.” His gaze went to the house. “Now really ready to go in—”

Gale’s expression went somber. “I know it’s a hell of a reason to come back—”

“Yeah, but it’s not every day that your brother marries your high school sweetheart.” Peeta grimaced. “How bitter do I sound?”

His friend snorted. “Well, you definitely sound like you’re here under duress.”

“Mom guilt, you know.” He turned toward the house. “Better get in there.”

“Of course. Listen, Madge and I will be having some people over tomorrow night for dinner. We’d love for you to come.”

Nodding, Peeta smiled at the man.

“I’ll be there. I mean, everyone knows not to turn down an invite from Madge Hawthorne.”

Gale laughed. “Unless you want her to drag your ass over. Six—bring wine and your cheese rolls.”

“Got it,” he agreed. “See you tomorrow.”

With a wave, Gale headed down the street and out of sight.

Steeling himself, Peeta looked to the house before heading towards the front door.

++++++

His childhood room looked the same, right down to the blue plaid wallpaper and the wrestling trophies on his bookshelves. His textbooks sat on his cherrywood desk as if he had just stepped out to take a quick break before going back to studying for his exams.

Seriously, it was like a goddamn shrine.

It’s been almost five years since that infamous Thanksgiving.

That day, Peeta left those textbooks as well as whatever connection he had to District 12.

There was a tentative knock and he sat up, his twin mattress creaking with his motion.

The door opened and his brother, Rye, peeked inside, giving him a careful smile. “Hi.”

He stepped in, closing the door behind him. However, his older brother kept his distance.

“I wanted to make sure you were settled in,” Rye started. “Mom said that you got in early this morning. She’s been cooking up a storm for dinner tonight—”

“Did you need something?”

His words came out bitingly and that blip of hope in Rye’s eyes faded.

“Delly and I will be here. Bran and Johanna are coming, too…”

“Awesome. Can’t wait,” he snapped.

“Peeta…I don’t know how many times I can say I’m sorry before you could even think of forgiving me. I never meant for it to happen. And I know that it took a lot for you to come here after everything—”

“I’m only here because Mom and Dad asked me to.” Peeta sneered at his brother. “Did you really think that I wanted to come to this wedding? Especially after finding out that you both went behind my back while I was in my first year of college? We were still together, Rye. Right before I came back for Thanksgiving, Delly was telling me how much she missed me…were you feeding her lines over the phone?"

“No!” Rye’s blue eyes were glassy. “She did miss you. We both did. My God, Peeta. You’re my brother and my best friend—”

“You don’t get to call me that.”

Rye sniffled. “Which one?”

Closing his eyes, Peeta tried to display a semblance of grit before answering.

“Both.”

++++++

Nursing the beer bottle in his hand, Peeta stepped out onto the porch of the Hawthorne house.

Inside, Gale was discussing the latest policies at District 12 High, where he was both teacher and wrestling coach, with Bran—Peeta’s eldest brother. Johanna, his very pregnant sister-in-law, was helping Madge with dinner—by sampling everything that had been set out on the dining table.

In a show of solidarity, Gale had not extended the invitation to Rye—though they were co-workers. He and Madge insisted on neutral ground, so no one spoke of the wedding or the couple-who-would-not-be-named.

Last night at their family dinner, Bran had greeted him with a firm hug before smacking him on the side of the head for taking so long to visit. His sister-in-law echoed his sentiment with a kiss and a smack to the opposite side.

Bran and Johanna had been together since high school, marrying right after graduation.

Literally after.

Since, as Johanna explained after their announcement, ‘they were already dressed fancy.’

Peeta had always wanted that—that certainty—and he thought he had that with Delly. He was so confident in them that he didn’t blink an eye when he left for school.

And look where that got him.

“I could practically smell the hostility—and Axe deodorant—wafting off you.”

He looked up, not even noticing the new occupant at the opposite end of the porch. The woman approached and under the moonlight, Peeta could make out her smoky almond-shaped eyes and wide smile. She wore a red bodycon dress and black stilettos, her dark waves bouncing against her shoulders as she walked. However, her gait was awkward in the heels, and she just barely made it to him before almost twisting her ankle.

Peeta chuckled as she muttered a curse. He took her hand, helping her to sit on the porch steps.

He smirked. “Is this your first time walking…ever?”

The woman whipped her head at him, eyes blazing.

“I swear to God, I’ll beat you to death with my high heels, if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

Peeta held his hands up. “Sorry!” Her mouth relaxed into a slight smile. “I’m Peeta.”

“I know who you are,” the woman retorted. “Everyone knows Peeta Mellark.”

Of course—he was the town charity case.

The boy whose brother stole his girlfriend right under his nose. The man who had to attend their wedding with a smile on his face when, in actuality, he was dying inside.

“You had the best ass on the wrestling team,” she finished before shaking her head. “I can’t believe you don’t remember me. I was only your biggest fan—at least, that’s what Gale called me.” He peered at the woman, searching for a clue on who she was. “Okay, let me give you a visual. Red glasses, wore an olive jacket, hair in two braids…”

A lone memory of a sweet fifteen-year-old flashed in his mind. She had an awkward walk even then…tripping over her Chuck Taylors whenever she was around him.

Peeta turned to her, a soft smile spreading on his lips. “Katniss Everdeen.”

“Live and in living color.” She smiled back. “My cousin told me that I wouldn’t want to miss dinner.”

Katniss—Gale’s younger cousin—spent most of her time at the Hawthorne house as her parents worked all the time. Whenever Peeta came by, she was always playing video games with Vick while Rory and Prim, Katniss’ younger sister, were watched by Mrs. Hawthorne.

Gale indulged her, letting the young girl hang with them while they talked about their matches or their girlfriends. She had practically been one of the guys.

Through his peripheral, he eyed the graceful curves of her figure.

Presently, Katniss was definitely not one of the guys.

“You know they’re all paired inside,” he informed her. “And I’m sorry—but I’m a shit person to be stuck with.”

Katniss scoffed. “Yeah, whoever thought that you wouldn’t come back bitter and surly was out of their damn mind.” She looked at him. “I’m sorry you got played.”

“Me, too.”

Katniss slid off her heels. “Were you really in love with Delly?” She stretched her toes. “I mean like over the moon, scream it from the mountain tops kind of in love? Was it worth losing all this time with your family? Your friends?”

No one had ever asked him that.

It had been such a whirlwind that day. Rye and Delly had sat him down after dinner and he had been packed up to leave within the hour. He could still hear his mother’s teary voice…Bran’s angry shouts at their brother…the anguish in Delly’s voice as she called out to him…

Yeah, it did hurt.

However, when Peeta really thought about it, it wasn’t heartbreak.

What hurt more was the look. The look in Delly’s eyes as she stared at Rye during their talk. That look of just utter adoration—he craved that look his whole life.

Now Peeta wasn’t sure if he had wanted it from Delly, or if he had just projected all his hopes for a great love in her.

“Maybe not,” he finally said. “But there’s no going back from what happened.”

“You’re here now,” she replied. “You can make it up to your family and friends. And I’m not saying that you should be all live and let live with Delly and Rye, but you can be civil and let everyone know that you’re not a shut-in.”

“Who said I was a shut-in?”

“Please. Your mom was calling every mother with a single daughter within a 15-mile radius to let them know that her youngest—and very single—son was coming home and would anyone be willing to entertain him.” Katniss stretched her legs, letting out a low groan that caused his stomach to tighten. “God love your mom. She is determined to keep you from wallowing. Unless…”

Peeta turned to see Katniss smiling maniacally. “Unless what?”

“Unless I’m your date for the wedding,” she stated bluntly. “I’ll even do all the other boring crap with you like the rehearsal dinner. Think of me as a buffer for all awkward moments. Trust me, I’ll make it uncomfortable for everyone but you.”

“Why?”

“For entertainment.” She sat back, staring up at the sky. “Also, I’ve always liked you, Peeta. You didn’t deserve the hand you were dealt and if I can help my childhood crush, it’s a bonus.”

Peeta smiled. “I was your childhood crush?”

Katniss smirked, her eyes shining with mirth. “Many a masturbatory session featured you in your wrestling uniform.”

“I can still do a lot of those wrestling moves; you know.” Her stare widened at his words and even in the darkness, Peeta could see the rosiness infuse her cheeks. “In case, you were wondering.”

“Well, fuck me,” she drawled before leaning towards him. “What do you think?”

Peeta examined his situation for a moment. Yes, this wedding was going to be awkward as hell for him and he was coming in single with nothing to show but a manuscript of his rambles.

And, Katniss was witty, charming, and full of life—the exact opposite of himself.

She was exactly what he needed.

Also, who could deny that Katniss Everdeen was gorgeous?

Judging by the semi in his lower half, he didn’t.

He nodded. “I think that I have myself a date.”

Katniss grinned. “Should we seal it with a kiss?”

Peeta couldn’t help but laugh. “Why not? Give it your best shot.”

She rose onto her knees, her hand traveling to his cheek as her mouth ghosted his.

“Oh, you’re in trouble.”

About five seconds later, he knew undoubtedly that he was fucked.

*I think I have another part for this in my brain.

[paintedpeeta]

any headcanons for if katniss was a bit less distant to peeta in 13 (or if peeta progressed to where he had his own room, a schedule, could attend finnicks’ wedding..etc...granted, still monitored by guards)

like a still confused peeta making propos with katniss and she makes a snarky comment at Haymitch or rolls her eyes at Plutarch and everybody’s like 🤭😏when he genuinely laughs or smiles at her

or her shyly asking him to dance at the wedding making up some reason in her mind why it’s a good idea like “this dance is meant for 2 ppl anyway🙄” or “his leg could use the exercise” when she rly just wants her boy’s arms around her. maybe it’d be awkward at first but he’d make a lighthearted comment like “could you imagine effie’s face if she saw our form right now” and that’d break the ice making her laugh and they just hold each other like “🥺🥺😓 “ even when the dance is over bc they miss each other so bad it hurts

(P.s i only use tumblr for ur blog i’m in love hahah)

first of all i just have to say whaaaaat?? someone using tumblr exclusively for my blog is just 💀 i really can’t believe that! thank you so much and i’m so glad u enjoy whatever it is that i do on here!

i also want to say i feel like katniss can’t be blamed for being distant, she’s still a kid who’s been thrown into this awful situation! she distances herself from peeta when he’s in this state to protect herself, and that’s okay! hearing this boy who always loved and protected her and made her feel safe wanting to kill her and being mistrustful of her etc really knocked her. add on top of that the guilt she feels for being separated from him in the quell, even though she wanted so badly to keep him safe... for her own sake she had to keep that sense of removal from him because she couldn’t bare the pain it caused.

and now onto the headcanon-y stuff that you’re here for. i think that if katniss was less distant peeta’s recovery would have gone a lot...smoother? i think katniss being there while he healed would’ve sped up the whole process, instead of delly having to essentially act as the middle man between them. the real-or-not-real ‘game’ paired with her presence, proving that she isn’t a threat to him and that she cares for him would surely have helped in his recovery.

that being said, i don’t think anything katniss could have done (in the canon situation) to get him well enough to have any sort of freedom within district 13 in such a short time span. but say for instance, in an AU where the hijacking wasn’t as bad or didn’t happen at all, i can totally see them sharing a room in 13. she really, really missed out on that comfort in mockingjay and it showed in the things she done (kissing the pearl and imagining it was him.... come on suzanne why’d u do our girl like that 🥺) (also the dream scene in the movie francis lawrence i will get you). just having that grounding force that he brings to her would have gone a long way in that time, and things like the rigid routine of 13 life and propos wouldn’t seem so gruelling if she didn’t also have the constant, gnawing worry about peeta. she might actually have found some joy in things like annie and finnick’s wedding, to be able to dance with peeta and her sister and show snow that whatever he done to peeta clearly didn’t have the desired effect.

and you kneecapped me with the idea of them just clinging onto one another, even after the dancing is over. because they need that. they both need a hug so bad, and they really only want it from each other. prim just watching them from the side like 😏 because she knows her sister and would be able to see how much she needs him. also, snarky everlark at their very best when they team up on haymitch and plutarch as they do propos 💀

also can you imagine them being able to train together in district 13? both of those stubborn jocks clashing heads as they try and push each other, him handing her her ass very arrogantly in the hand to hand combat training, and then her getting him back by showing him up at the firing range 💀 they have this whole chaotic dynamic like before the quell and johanna is in the background like what the fuck is wrong these people. but they always make up as soon as they leave, snuggling into each other close at night because they know they almost lost each other and they don’t ever want that again 🥺

however what i’d most like to see from a sound minded peeta in district 13 (aside from lots and lots of everlark comfort) would be his reaction to coin. to me, peeta being sharp as a tack and aware of his surroundings would see right through her. katniss isn’t a very social creature, she’s instantly weary and defensive and therefore doesn’t really read people properly to try and understand them. peeta on the other hand would pick up coins’ exploitative nature (his disgust at her suggestion to hold another games tells us as such, he’s not drawn into her ideology the way characters like gale or beetee seem to be) and i think that would have a big effect on the way katniss deals with her too.

[incaensio]

katniss doesn't think delly has any bad intention when she brings up the hob — not then — and she's a bit taken aback by the apologetic manner in which she responds to katniss' dead pan words. "'s fine. really. you ain't the one to do it and no one died, so…" for some people, it would have been better if they had lost their lives, but katniss has been trying to help them as much as she can, her pocket heavy whenever she does the rounds around the district now. "i don't really think that 'bout people. much less about you." if anything, katniss was the insensitive one — she certainly got glares at times as if she was. delly? she was as soft as peeta, but there's still a bite in her she doesn't get from her boy with the bread, not often at least. it is that imagined malice that makes her raise an eyebrow and doubt delly's intentions now. "what kinda trouble?" she's curious now, though she doesn't quite doubt peeta has a sort of fire in him too (people overlook that, like he wasn't the one to raise their hands with the berries to the camera, the one to continuously lay down his arms for her in a game he could have easily choked her out and come back home alone).

delly is giving her that look now. the look that she's being insensitive. katniss has some experience with that, so she tries not to let herself feel too guilty about being a cunt to one of peeta's friends. "he never asked." rationally, she knows why. peeta knows her, he knows she wouldn't feel comfortable around his people when she's barely comfortable around hers these days. but something else, that feeling that turns and flips whenever she thinks of her husband, makes her bite her bottom lip in thought because what if it is something else? what if he doesn't want her to be around his people? it's not like they're the same. she's rough, she's selfish, she's seam (and there's that other thing — the way his mother turns her nose to katniss even now, when her pockets are loaded and she's fucking saved her son). "you could… hang out with us too. my sister would like you." it's an easy save — primrose likes everyone.

katniss hums. "maybe." delly is a romantic, then? in twelve, that's definitely not going to help her — but then, what does katniss know of townie boys? maybe they spin pretty words like peeta if it means having a chance with girls at the slag heap or down the aisle. she does get a little stiff at delly calling katniss and peeta halves. yeah, that's the thing they go around saying here. but is it the truth? is that how he describes her to delly? is that what delly got from the act? katniss is at a loss for words, and she isn't sure how to fish for them again.

"oh, yeah. it's disgustin'. people here know no self-control, at all." she's got her prejudices about people in town, some envy even about how easier they get, but people at twelve don't waste anything — no one knows when you can get something good again the next time (she's also heard some stories, from peeta, that has made her want to apologize for how she's seen them, make her raise her voice when gale starts saying something about townies. they may not know real hunger and despair like people from the seam do, but it's incomparable to how easy the capitol has next to anyone from twelve, even the mayor). "they think it's funny, when we turn our noses about that." her prep team had called her cute, patting her cheek and saying katniss could gain some pounds, so it's okay if she doesn't drink the purging drink. katniss shakes her head, unwilling to conceal her distaste.

"peeta has an in with the chefs, ask him." he had requested samples of pastries, on their victory tour, but she couldn't imagine asking for recipes of every dish here. well, she could, but then she'd keep him in the kitchen for even longer than he already stays there. the memory makes her feel a smile tugging at her lips, but she tries to stop that, going to the table that has the ham and picking at a slice for delly, then one for herself. she hands the other woman the plate, adding another piece of pork that is spicy rather than sweet, then lifting her hand, as if to tell her to try it already.

tw: mention of vomiting drink

Delly had forgotten about what had happened to the Hob, and horror etched onto her face as Katniss reminded her that it had been burnt to a crisp. So stupid! Delly told herself. She was certain that if Katniss didn't hate her before, well, she probably did now. The Hob's burning had been big news for a little while, but then they had moved on. Delly had never been there so nothing had changed for her. The Hob had been forbidden to Delly and to her friends, although the boys snuck in on occasion to pick up some alcohol or just for the thrill of going. They had never taken Delly or Bryx or Elisa with them even when Delly begged. "I'm an idiot, of course, I'm so sorry," Delly apologized, her cheeks pink. "You must think that I'm so insensitive." She was glad, though, that Katniss didn't seem to upset with her. Whether she would tell Peeta about it though, was another story. If she did Delly wasn't too worried, Peeta knew her better than anyone and would know she hadn't meant to offend her. "I would love to go sometime if you will have me. We don't have to tell Peeta, what's a secret between two friends, right? And don't worry about Peeta too much, we have found ourselves in plenty of trouble over the years. He might surprise you."

She was taken aback when Katniss asked why she would come. Not just in her response but in how...almost disgusted she was by the idea. Delly's cheeks turned pink. "Oh, um, I just thought that maybe you would want to get to know some of Peeta's friends, being married and all that. I know that Peeta has been spending a lot of time with your family so I just...I just thought you might want to get to know some of his people too. You don't have to though. I was just offering." Her reaction was a reminder that before last year Delly had had minor interactions with Katniss, and maybe she preferred to keep it that way. Delly wanted to be friends with Katniss. Not just because Peeta was married to her and because he asked her to be nice, but because she had always kind of admired Katniss. But maybe Katniss didn't want things to change. "I think my mother would roll over in her grave, not that she's dead, if.I didn't get married," Delly replied, furrowing her brow. Getting married was a choice? "I just...always assumed I would find someone at some point and we would get married. I haven't had much luck yet, Peeta says I have awful taste in guys. So maybe it's that, or maybe...the right guy just hasn't shown himself yet." Delly shrugged. "True, we are still young and we can't all be lucky enough to find our other halves so quickly."

"Me too," she admitted. Even though they had enough to eat and Delly didn't know what it was like to starve, food wasn't wasted in the Cartwright household. Of course, there were some things that she didn't love, but she didn't exactly throw it away or turn it down. "I was horrified when I overheard someone saying that they have this...this drink to make you throw up," Delly told her, her voice quiet so they weren't overheard. "That sounds awful!" She shuddered at the thought. "The stew I had yesterday was incredible, I was half tempted to find the chef to get the recipe," she laughed "A little bit of everything sounds like good advice, I do like how easy it is to just pick at all of the different things. They have it all figured out here, the most efficient way to try all of the things." Delly smiled and nodded her head. "I will absolutely try it, I trust your judgment. It sounds amazing."

[everlarkficexchange]

A Simple Choice

Written by: @justajjfan​​​​

Beta’d by: @sunsetsrmydreams​​​​

Prompt 83: Katniss is whipped instead of Gale in Catching Fire, Peeta’s the one who’s there to take care of her after. [submitted by anonymous].

Prompt 116: Peeta braids Katniss’ hair to soothe her. [submitted by anonymous] 

Rating: Mature 

Warning: Mention of whipping. Use of coarse language.

A/N: This chapter is in Katniss’ POV. So we’ll finally get to hear her side of the story. Thank you to @everlarkficexchange​ - @javistg​ and @xerxia31​ for allowing me to post this chapter in advance. This chapter is dedicated to @sunsetsrmydreams​ for her inspiration 🌼.

~~~

Chapter 5 - (Katniss POV)

Peeta looks at me with wide eyes and I know he’s waiting for me to elaborate. These past few days…weeks seem so surreal; I hardly know where to begin but he needs to know as much as I know myself.

I won’t keep anything from him…not now…not ever.

“I bet your boyfriend wasn’t too thrilled when you told him why you wanted to come back. I’m surprised he didn’t try to stop you,” Peeta replies, with a questioning look.

“He did but I snuck away when everyone thought I was asleep,” I tell him. “And Gale and I aren’t like that!” I add hoping Peeta understands.

“Everyone in Twelve thinks you two are a couple…including me.”

I shake my head and slide a little closer to Peeta, “it’s not true Peeta!” I say, my voice sounding raised but not out of anger. “Gale kissed me…once when we were out hunting and up until then, I didn’t even know he had feelings for me,” I start. “We were hunting partners and that was it…that’s how it will always be with Gale and me,” I say, needing him desperately to believe me.

Peeta doesn’t say anything and it pains me to think how my careless words affected him in ways I never meant. I foolishly thought it was for the best but in reality, all I did was hurt him.

“I wished I’d never said all those things to you on the train.”

“But you did and you were pretty convincing,” Peeta chuckles, nervously rubbing the back of his neck and when he looks at me, the smile on his face disappears. “I kept asking myself what I did to make you hate me so much.” 

“Oh no Peeta, I could never hate you. The Games…what we went through to survive. I was so messed up and confused but mostly scared of feelings I couldn’t explain. The closer we got to Twelve the more confused I got. Then after we got home, Gale came to see me and I had no choice. I had to stay away and I’ve regretted that decision every single day since.”

Peeta thinks over my words and the passing seconds seem like hours before he opens his mouth to finally speak, “everyone makes bad choices sometimes.”

He’s right of course and those choices can cost you dearly.

I’ve been so miserable without him and being this close to Peeta has my heart beating so fast it feels like a pounding drum. And now it takes every ounce of strength I have to keep myself from flinging into the only arms that make me feel safe.

“Haymitch said there were no bugs in my house and I don’t mean the insect kind.”

My head pricks up and Peeta notices the surprised look on my face, “I’ve had some time to think things over and I’ll wager all of my earnings on our mentor being much more than what he has led people to think,” he says. “You can talk to me Katniss; it’s just the two of us here and we’ve got all the time in the world.”

I turn to look at the trees swaying in the breeze from the opened window before turning my focus back to Peeta, “no, if anything, it feels like our time is slowly running out.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste any of it. Tell me everything.” 

I nod and draw in a deep breath before telling Peeta how this nightmare started, “Gale told me a group of rebels approached him while he was out hunting on his own. They wanted to use all the attention I was getting from the Games to help recruit support from the other districts and the only way to get to me was through him,” I begin to explain.

“Go on,” Peeta urges.

“I wanted to tell you but Gale swore me to secrecy. He went on to tell me the rebels believed if we were seen together it would draw too much attention especially from the Capitol and Snow hasn’t forgiven us for the berries. It would have meant a death sentence for both our families and I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to them. I had to think of Prim.”

Peeta squeezes my hand. He understands I would do anything to keep my sister safe.

“I didn’t know Gale had planned to take me to the rebel headquarters until we were out hunting on Sunday. We walked further than we’ve ever dared to venture before but Gale seemed to know where he was going…

Two rebels, Bonnie and Twill were sent out to guide us back to their headquarters and as we started to walk deeper into the woods, Bonnie told us how the rebel army had been working closely with a secret ally and a combined strike on each of the districts before their final assault on the Capitol was just days away. Gale was glued to every word but all I could think of was how many innocent lives would be lost in the process?”

The feel of Peeta’s thumb rubbing against my hand has a calming effect and when I look up at him, he gives me a smile of encouragement and nods for me to continue.

“I told them we needed to go back and warn people but the two rebels were not about to let that happen. They needed the element of surprise. Gale managed to convince them to let him go back for our families while I remained behind, a decision I wasn’t happy with but in the end I agreed. Before Gale left, I made him promise to bring you back with him…even if he had to tie you up and carry you through the woods himself. He looked me straight in the eye and promised he wouldn’t leave you behind, no matter what and I believed him.”

Peeta has always been good at keeping a calm exterior and not letting anyone see his true emotions come to the surface but he can’t fool me. There’s a storm brewing in his eyes.

“It was dark by the time Gale arrived back at the rebel headquarters with our families and I was relieved to have my sister and mother safe with me but I kept looking for you. When I realised you weren’t with them, I thought I was going to lose my mind. Gale tried to calm me down, he told me you refused to go with him because you were engaged to Delly and wanted to toast with her. He said you wanted to forget me and that your future was with her,” I say, my voice cracking as I repeated Gale’s treacherous lies. “I screamed at him, punching and scratching until I was pulled away…I don’t remember much after that. Gale promised me he wouldn’t leave you behind…and he broke it.”

Peeta’s jawline tightens and I can see the temples on the side of his face pulsating as he tries to contain his anger. His tight lips turn upwards into a smile, a dark chuckle escaping his lips.

He cups my face with his hands and looks deep into my eyes, “nothing Gale told you is true. Yes, I was seeing Delly…at my mother’s behest. And yes, we kissed a few times but that was the extent of our relationship,” he says gently rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs. “I-I didn’t even know you were gone until the whipping. The curtains in your room were drawn like they always are on Sundays and I thought you and Gale were—” he stops talking and stands abruptly to pace around the room, the hint of laughter under his breath until he picks up the lampshade from his bedside table and hurls it across the room.

“He fucking knew!” Peeta shouts angrily, and his outburst startles me. “Gale knew if he came to me and said you needed me, I would have gone with him,” he tells me tugging at the ends of his hair. “I would have left everything behind and never looked back if it meant you wanted me for real.”

I never understood until now why Gale would always draw the curtains when we came into my room. Unbeknown to me, he was sending Peeta a certain type of message and the thought enrages me. I was never alone with him; grateful mama insisted my bedroom door remained open and Prim stay until he left.

“It was real Peeta,” I say softly, drawing back from my thoughts. “You and me…it will always be real.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes,” I say.

Peeta’s face lights up and rushes the few steps to reach me, kneeling in front of me to gently take my trembling hands in his, “if the peacekeepers didn’t find you…” his voice cracking as he tries to speak. “What would you have done if I told you I wanted to stay in Twelve?” He swallows hard and bites his lower lip nervously waiting for my answer.

“Then I would have stayed…with you.”

He closes his eyes and takes in a shaky breath before opening them, “you said earlier you were scared of your feelings, what did you mean?”

My mouth feels dry and my heart is beating so fast it feels as though it will jump right out of my chest but I know what Peeta is asking me to do. I’ve never been good at saying something but looking into his eyes as he waits patiently for the words, I should have never been so afraid to admit…even to myself.

Peeta’s hand reaches for my braid just like he did in the games and his fingers begin to gently stroke and caress my hair and it calms me, “please Katniss…I know words are not your thing but this is important.”

I know it is and no matter how I tried to run away from the truth in the past, this is about Peeta and he deserves to hear them.

“I-I was afraid of becoming just like my mother,” I finally find the courage to admit it out loud. “She gave into her feelings a long time ago and it cost her dearly when she lost my father.” I try to explain.

Peeta opens his mouth then closes it again, the seconds flying by before Peeta speaks, “tell me,” he asks in a soft pleading whisper, still stroking my braid.

“She lost herself…because she loved him.”

Peeta leans into me until our lips touch. It’s a tender and sweet kiss at first and I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck letting him know I want more. Our lips lock again and because I’m much better at showing rather than saying, all my pent-up feelings are expressed in this passionate kiss.

When we break apart there’s a wildness in Peeta’s eyes sending a strange desire between my legs. There’s no denying how much I want to give into to whatever this is but I need to be completely honest and open with him before we take this further.

“There’s something I need to confess,” I say and Peeta looks at me with some concern. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but when I woke this morning I could hear voices coming from downstairs,” I start my admission and his face immediately reddens. “The walls are thin and it wasn’t hard to realise it wasn’t Haymitch you were talking to. I overheard most of what you and Delly were saying and I’m sorry.”

Peeta shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for but thank you for telling me. There shouldn’t be any secrets between us, right?”

I nod, relieved to have this off my chest, yet ponder over some things Delly said, “she’s right about one thing…I don’t deserve you.” Peeta looks at me with questioning eyes. “But if you’re willing to give me a second chance, I’ll never break your heart again.” I say, crumpling the end of his shirt nervously in my hands.

Peeta gently lifts my chin so my eyes look up to meet his, “my heart has belonged to you since I was five…it will always be yours,” he says. “But it would have saved us both so much pain and internal suffering if you came to me and explained what was really going on. I would have kept away knowing you—” he stops mid-sentence to take in a deep breath. “There’s just no point in keeping secrets from each other, is there?”

“There’s no point at all,” I agree shyly, before pressing my lips tenderly on his.

We lay on Peeta’s bed and with his arms wrapped around me, my head finds its place on his chest and the strong beating of his heart is so soothing my eyes begin to close to the calming rhythm. I have been so lonely for him all these weeks I realise life without Peeta Mellark would be unthinkable.

I love my boy with the bread.

***

“Katniss.”

“Hmmm,” my sleepy voice says.

“Time to wake up.”

I feel so warm and contented I want to stay right where I am but reluctantly lift my head and rub my eyes to see a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at me.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” I reply groggily. “Did I fall asleep?”

Peeta kisses the top of my head before answering, “just for a little while but I think we should get out of this bed. And as much as I like seeing you in nothing but my shirt, we should definitely grab some clothes from your house,” Peeta suggests. I like being in his shirt too and the thought brings on a new rush of heat and I can’t help the smile forming on my face as I bury my head into his warm chest. “Then we find Haymitch,” he adds and I agree.

Peeta helps me out of bed and holds my hand as we start to walk out of his bedroom but I stop in my tracks and turn back to the breakfast tray sitting on the bedside table.

“What’s wrong?”

I don’t answer Peeta straight away, my mind focused on grabbing the cloth napkin still folded neatly on the tray and wrapping what’s left of the two pieces of toast he made just for me.

“Absolutely nothing,” I reply, standing on my tip toes to kiss him quickly on the lips before we head towards my house.

…tbc

[ubernoxa]

The Dare: A Guns N’ Roses Fanfiction

Chapter 38: The Firescape

Story Summary: A stupid harmless dare, that’s all it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be something they would do, and never revisit. For Delilah, little did she know that visiting the strip wasn’t going to be a one time thing when she made the choice to accept the dare. Life is full of choices. Some choices can mean absolutely nothing, while others can change your entire world. Delilah had heard many rumors about the Sunset Strip or Devil’s Strip. Teenagers would whisper stories about how the Devil walks the streets of the strips without a care in the world. It was known as a place untouched by God. After years of hearing rumors about the Devil’s Strip, Delilah wants to see it for herself. Thus a Dare was born.

Chapter Summary: Del tells Duff that she wants to go to Betsy’s engagement party. Axl slips a truth and Beth doesn’t deny who he says that father’s baby is.

(Masterlist)

Tags: @gingerspicetalks @str4nge-haze @dustnbones @queen-crue

“You’re up early,” Izzy noted as he walked into the kitchen that Del had turned into a war zone. There were half chopped apples and peppers that looked like they were barely even touched laid out on the cutting board. Wrappers from butter and eggshells danced across the floor as she scurried about moving from one corner of the kitchen to another.

Izzy was never one to admit he understood women or people in general, but the scene that was unfolding in front of him sent concern through his bones. Something was wrong, and there was no doubt that Duff was the reason for the poor girl’s hectic state.

“I’m always up early,” Del shrugged trying to focus on baking. It was the only thing keeping her sane at the moment. Memories of the threat and what if’s had been haunting her late last night and into the early morning. She had been up since before the sun began to rise, and to be honest she could not recall if she ever actually found sleep.

Upon closer thought, Izzy simply nodded his head assuming that this had something to die with Mark and Matt from the night prior. He bit his tongue as he noticed that there was barely any coffee left in the coffee pot. If the little brunette who currently ran around the kitchen bouncing between tasks had drank most of the coffee, he wondered how her heart hadn’t exploded yet from all of the caffeine.

After once again deciding that this was entirely Duff’s fault, he took the remaining coffee from the pot and poured it in the first cup he found.

“I’ll refill the coffee in a few. You’re banned from coffee for the rest of the day,” he pointed at Del when he spoke.

“Who am I Steven?” She shot back, her snappy tone catching Izzy off guard.

“Look around the kitchen Delilah, tell me that this isn’t something Steven would do,” This time it was Del who bit her tongue. She felt like a child in detention. She wanted to protest or tell Izzy to fuck off, but she knew better than to push Izzy at this hour. She cradled her last cup of coffee before taking another sip, returning back to her cooking chaos only moments after the bitter coffee touched her sweet lips.

Izzy huffed down the hall, cup of coffee in hand as he stormed into Duff’s room.

“What the fuck!” Were the only words that escaped Duff’s lips after Izzy had dumped the remaining coffee on his bandmate. Izzy didn’t give a damn if Duff woke up the entire apartment or even the entire building. His idiot bassist needed to deal with whatever the hell Del was going through.

“I don’t know Duff. You tell me. Your girlfriend is an absolute mess in the kitchen, so instead of sleeping away why don’t you go see what is wrong with her,” Izzy barked back.

Duff took in his surrounding for a quick second only to realize that Del was in fact nowhere to be found. Fuck, he thought to himself. Had she run off?

“Did she run off?” Izzy wished he had another cup of coffee to pour on the bassist at his stupid question.

“No, dumbass she is in the kitchen. Like I just said. This is you first girlfriend that I find tolerable, so why don’t you go fix that situation,” Izzy pointed towards the door before he stormed out of it.

“Can you just...shut the fuck up,” Duff rolled his eyes at Slash’s silent protest in the bed on the opposite wall as his.

“Is that coffee I smell?” Slash asked, only moments later.

“Yeah, Izzy fucking woke me up by pouring coffee on me. That bastard..,” Duff huffed again as he pulled himself out of bed.

“Don’t laugh Slash, it’s not funny,” Duff starred his bandmate down who had immediately erupted into a fit of laughter.

“It’s pretty funny dude,” Was all Slash could say between laughing fits, and before Duff slammed the door.

The beautiful smell of Dell’s cooking engulfed Duff’s nostrils when he entered the kitchen. Instead of a sweet Del dancing around while cooking, he was met with a Del who was clearly on the verge of setting the entire kitchen on fire.

Duff froze, lost for words before he could take in the entire scene. Dell’s hair resembled a mad scientist, and her apron was covered in...everything. He didn’t dare try to guess what she had tried to make.

“How can I help?” Del froze in place when Duff spoke.

“Can you tell Izzy to fuck off? Apparently I’m banned from coffee now! I would tell him myself, but I’m afraid laser beams will shoot out of his eyes when he stares me down,” Del admitted, her voice more defeated that she was hoping than she hoped.

Duff, eyeing her now empty cup of coffee, offered her a small chuckle at her silly words before he stepped forward into Del’s storm.

“How about I make some coffee, and then help you chop up those peppers?” Del smiled at Duff before returning to mix her stew or soup. She wasn’t quite sure what she had created.

Just keep wearing your mask around him Del, she told herself as she attempted to force another smile on her face. She knew it wasn’t the time to confront him about Mark and Matt’s threat.

No, she stopped herself in place, immediately lecturing herself on how poorly that would go. She couldn’t tell him about the threat. It would ruin them, of that she was sure. Instead, she decided, she was going to ask him to come to the engagement party.

Duff, making sure to give Del her distance, made some decaf coffee. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, Izzy was right. She needed to be cut off from caffeine. Her bags under her eyes looked as if they were poorly painted on with eyeshadow.

“You don’t need to watch me Del, you’re not the only chef here,” Duff tried using a teasing tone, but he still didn’t earn a laugh from Del.

“So I woke to Izzy dumping coffee on my shirt this morning,” Duff raised a brow when he heard Del hiding a giggle.

“It’s not funny,” Duff replied. This time a small smile was on his face, unlike when he had this discussion with Slash only a few minutes earlier.

“It’s pretty funny,” the moment Del snorted, Duff pulled her into a hug causing Del’s giggles to fill the apartment.

“Not as funny as your face right now,” in a flash, Duff had grabbed some of the yogurt and covered her face with it.

Del immediately grabbed some of the yogurt off of her face and splashed it over Duff’s.

“Nah, you’re still more funny looking,” Del teased before Duff pulled her in for a kiss.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He mumbled as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Later.”

“Later?” Duff cocked a brow at her, quickly receiving a nod.

“We have a breakfast we gotta cook and coffee you have to pour on Izzy,” He smiled before she went back to stirring her...whatever she had cooking in her pot.

“So, Chef Delly, where would you like the peppers?” Del pointed towards the large pot that seemed to be cooking over the stove.

Time flew by as the two cooked in silence. Chopping and preparing different foods in harmony while enjoying the silence that had grown between them.

Despite Duff finding his peace again, Del still remained on edge and couldn’t keep Mike and Matt’s threat from the party last night racing through her head.

She would never cheat on Duff. She loved him, that she knew for sure, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. It’s was just a million little things that added up to one big thing from his smile to his stupid jokes to the songs he played for her. He didn’t steal his heart. She 100% willingly gave it to him.

Duff continued to focus on cleaning up the mess that was a resultant from Hurricane Del, but he could feel her eyes hang on him. There was something on her mind, and he knew there was no way his silly jokes or cooking could fix it. They needed to talk, and the worst part was that part of him didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted to file Mark and Matt away in a filing cabinet and throw it into the ocean, far far away from Del.

“The fire escape,” Del mumbled, filling Duff with dread as they headed over towards the only place he knew that they could have some privacy.

“Okay, what’s up? What happened last night,” Del shook her head as Duff sat down on the fire escape. His long legs hanging off the end.

“I would like to go to Beth’s wedding party. It’s just a little celebration about her engagement,” The words couldn’t come out of her mouth faster as she spoke.

Duff paused and looked at Del. She was lying, of that he was certain. He knew she didn’t want to go to the damn party. He knew she didn’t want anything to do with her old life.

Maybe if I keep her from it, maybe that would help, he thought to himself.

“No,” Duff replied his focus not leaving the ally that the fire escape faced.

“No?” Del was shocked at his response. He wrote songs and he couldn’t bring himself to using more than one word.

Duff stood up, not saying a word. Del felt smaller than an ant as she stared up at him, “No, I said no. I don’t want you around Mike or Matt.”

“Beth was my friend!” Del shot back, her skin felt like it was boiling.

Was.

Was.

Was.

Del froze as the sentence escaped her lips. She was her friend. Best is not her friend.

“Really? When was the last time you talked to her?” Del remained silent, not wanted to deal withDiff’s words. She wished he went back to the single word answers.

“You call her a friend, but she left you ALONE at the bar Delilah!” Duff shouted back at her.

“So what Micheal! She was scared and maybe I was in the wrong!” Del shouted right back.

“I don’t want you anywhere near Matt or Mike or Beth or whatever the hell their names are! You’re not going there!” He shouted back matching my tone.

Del clutched onto the cold railing that was the only thing keeping her from falling off the firescape. It felt more like sandpaper than any railing she had held before. It gritted under her palms, screaming at her to let go. She wasn’t sure if that was her overactive imagination or the crippling state of this apartment.

Run.

Get away from him before it escalates,

“I thought you would be okay if I was there with you. You could protect me,” she felt childish as all of her nerve had disappeared. Del could feel herself shaking as she continued to use the railing as her support to steady herself. It was the only reason she hadn’t fallen over.

Duff was about to speak when he froze as he looked down at Del, she was cowering. She looked like prey right before the laughter. Her body was leaned up against the cold railing and he could tell that she was visibly shaking.

He reached out a hand hoping to gently stroke her cheek hoping to calm her, but he soon realized how bad the idea was. The moment she flinched, he knew how poor of a choice it was. She had to have known that he would never hurt her.

As if Del was a dying fire, and Duff’s touch was gasoline, she felt her flame return, courage flowing through her veins. She shoved his hand aside and pushed him out of her way. She felt on fire as she stormed through the apartment, ignoring Duff’s pleading in hopes that she would slow down and listen to his logic. She didn’t listen.

Del could feel that every soul in the apartment was watching the scene unfold.

“Shut the fuck up Duff and leave me alone,” Del shouted at the top of her lungs. Her throat was hot and it felt like it was on fire.

“Del, where are you going?” Duff shouted, only furthering the fire she had become.

“Home,” Del shouted, only realizing how pathetic she sounded before slamming the door behind her.

When the door closed behind her, the tears quickly streamed down her face. She felt guilt as she stormed down the stairs. Guilt for acting like a fool. Guilt for yelling at Duff.

Home? She almost scoffed at the idea as the tears came streaming down her face. She had no home.

“Don’t,” Mag’s voice was sharp as Duff went to run after Delilah.

“What do you mean don’t?” Duff shouted.

“You are only going to make it worse.” She countered.

“Did you tell her that it’s your baby or is this only about the engagement party at her old church ?” Axl’s voice cut through the silence.

“What?” Duff turned towards Mags who froze in time. Her face went flush, looking more like a ghost than a living being.

“Mags, what is he talking about?” Duff shouted.

Mags could feel the tears streaming on her cheeks as she ran out to the apartment.

Steven didn’t hesitate as his punch collided with Duff’s face.

While his face burned like hell from Steven’s punch, he couldn’t focus on it. His brain was too occupied with the fact that Mags didn’t deny that he was the father.

He was going to be a father.

And Delly, Delly was gone

[hockeysweetheart]

Part 6 Of Back To District 12 

Katniss who lost her Husband 3 years ago.. Comes back to District 12. With her 3 Children. She finds out Peeta  Who also Lost his wife  4 years ago came back to District 12 as well. They fall in love again and have bumps along the way… Their life is crazy but they make it work…

Notes: At this point your gonna be like you love to drop a bomb on us don’t you… well it would be a lie if I said no…  

Part 6  The Best Kept Secret

I am here at the hospital with my two healthy babies. The girl with brown hair and blue eyes the boy with blonde hair and grey eyes…

 To say we got here in the nick of time  is an understatement I literally  had to push  with in  2 minutes of arrival… it took me everything to not give birth in the parking lot.  We didn’t even make it to the room until she came out of me… Luckily the hospital knew we wanted to keep this a secret and  closed the door on them. Because one of these babies was coming out of me… 9 minutes later he came out of me…we took pictures and my daughter has a shirt that says I was kept a secret  on her..

My family is the first to visit when we allow visitors.  They walk in and they see him first and are like over joyed My mother asks what is his name I say “ Cooper Rye  Mellark”… Peeta says “ oh we almost forgot his older sister   Gretchen Raine Mellark ”.as  he handed her to prim… the faces on my family is shocked…  Prim says “ How could you keep like something like this quiet”… My mother said “ your kidding no way all my years I thought I could tell when someone was expecting twins.”…. My father says “ two of them no way”… they are all in happy tears… Prim says “they are both beautiful”  My mother said to the nurse who was in the room “ you knew too” with happy tears coming from her eyes. Drew was like “whoa” 

Our next guest is Peetas family his father and two brothers. Peeta hands cooper to Nathan and says “ Nate here is your nephew Cooper ” … “ and Marcus  here is your niece  Gretchen”…Peetas Father  looks at us and says “ no stop you didn’t have twins” Nathan whipping a tear away says “ you guys knew the whole time” Marcus is speechless he only says “ wow” They all give Peeta hugs… 

The next ones who come is Gales family.  Hazzel Posy Vick and Rory. they are all standing in the room we  talked to them a bit when we tell them the baby needs to gets checked out but we ask them to close there eyes  when he comes in and peeta put Cooper in Hazzels hands and The Nurse put   Gretchen in Posy’s…  I say   when they open their eyes  I say “ surprise”  Posy looks down and says “ the baby is wearing pink” then looks at her mothers arms… and is like “ no way!!!” Hazzel is like “ you guys kept this a secret the whole time”… Rory says “ where did you get the second kid from” Vick is so shocked  he just say’s “ oh my god”…. Hazzel asks “ well you shocked us but what are their names?” Peeta tells them “Cooper Rye and   Gretchen Raine ” I tell them “ we named  Gretchen Raine   Her name starts with a G  in honor of Gale.. “ Hazzel cry's”.. our next visitors are Johanna and Haymitch… they come in and see Cooper who Peeta hands to Haymitch and  then says “ Oh I almost forgot his twin sister   Gretchen”  who he hands to Johanna she says “ are you fucking kidding me” then quickly puts a hand on   Gretchen’s ear “ sorry for swearing in front of you” then adds “ it won’t be the last time”… Haymitch holding back tears “ well Katniss you don’t disappoint”. 

Then we have Finnick and Annie who visit us just have them come in. They are both on me  Annie is so shocked she stops in her tracks  “ woah why do you have two”… Finnick who puts up   Gretchen tells her “ see your mommy does have a secret we didn’t know about” then to me “  you two were the only one who knew this no way”. I tell him “ we almost slipped up but no one caught on”. Cora’s family comes in  they see him we Tell him we Named Him Cooper Rye the C  name in honor of  Cora… they cry as they all take turns holding him and Peeta says “ oh and here is his sister   Gretchen Raine” they all do a double take at Peeta and Me  and they are like “ your kidding”..

 Delly and Madge are the next visitors to come in. Delly and Peeta have kept a civil friendship ever since. Madge and I have gotten closer since my arrival back to 12. They walk in and see Cooper are like he’s precious…   Peeta asks “ well have you seen his twin sister” as he hands Gretchen  to Madge… they both are shocked I say surprise Delly for once is speechless  Madge says “ are you serious right now and you both knew” they both are happy for us  a little later on my parents bring the kids over as I will be here for a few days…. And my mother says to them “ want to meet your new brother” as 6 of our children walk into the room…  they all run to me and we have the babies in there  beds but we have covered Gretchen’s up… we get them all to sit on second bed and hand off Cooper to Owen.  and says Everyone will get a chance to hold him… Hold on are we Missing Someone Peeta Says their names the order they are on the bed  We have Owen, Cooper, Ella, Paisley, Noah, Kai and Aubrey… Oh I know who we are missing Coopers twin sister Gretchen   Peeta says as he passes her to Aubrey” They are all like what and excited but we have been teaching them to be quiet  so they cheer quietly.. Because we are in a hospital after all…   Peeta takes a pictures of all our Babies ages 13 to newborn.  All 8 of them… together…

When we go home my house is filled with Little girl stuff as everyone knew were having a boy. But kept her a secret.  Peeta and I walk up the stairs with the twins to the nursery. They are in the bedroom closest to ours… we set them down in their beds.. My family and friends did set up the nursery for Gretchen  as we already did half of it for Cooper… Peeta and I just look at them for a while as they are already Sleeping Peeta puts his arm around my shoulders and I lean in. This is my life now with 8 children.

We are happy they are all doing well we learn to adjust to twins when I tell you have each kid solo it was so much easier the one blessing is for the most part they sleep during the night. Well so I thought Peeta has been getting up for me all this time… I am grateful for that how else am I suppose to not loose my shit every 5 seconds with 8 kids oh wait I don’t They are all good kids but they do fight a lot Peeta and I have been together for over a year now. It does feel like we are married without getting officially Married tho.  When we do it we use   protection because, I am not ready to reproduce anytime soon. 8 kids is plenty… The older kids love their twin siblings.   Peeta and I go on dates but not as Often as the babies can only be away from me for  a small amount of time… Peeta went back to work after a few weeks staying at home helping me with the Babies. Johanna who has moved to 12 now drops by and helps out.  She Picked up the kids from school for us. As Peeta has been busy working. He does work along side his brothers and Rory.  But he doesn’t like to take much time off as in the past year he’s taken plenty of time off… I see in my babies his personality everyday they grow… Peeta comes home everyday after a long day will Play with the children  and take over the babies for me… to give me a bit a of a break he says… We both are tuckered out. I do say hey your working let me wake up for them I am in this house all day… well thats not true I do bring the twins to the bakery with me from time to time. Sometimes they nap upstairs… I get memories of the room when I enter of how Peeta found out I was expecting.  But now it is filled with  a great surprise… They grow everyday too fast for my liking… Peeta does take a few hours off to bring the babies to their appointments… but then is back at work… One Day in the morning after the kids  been dropped off at school, Peeta  is just getting into the bakery now  I get a phone call… Its from the school The Principal Says “ Hello Katniss. We need  you and Peeta to come to the school  immediately….