#i ran out of bananas annie this is an emergency

[khaleesiofalicante]

snippet from chapter 4 please??

if i tell you i am updating chapter 4 on ao3 right now, will you buy me some bananas?

[spiritualesoterichighlevel]

Military’s Paranormal Research

What if I told you that the Department of Defense and the CIA spent four decades researching extrasensory perception and psychokinesis — i.e., bending spoons with your mind?

From the 1950s to the 1990s, the military and intelligence communities investigated psychic phenomena, conducted clandestine missions that relied on subjects believed to have supernatural powers, and competed with the Soviet Union in a psychic arms race.      

In Phenomena: The Secret History of the U.S. Government’s Investigations Into Extrasensory Perception and Psychokinesis, published in March, investigative journalist Annie Jacobsen explores the bizarre world of government-funded research into the paranormal.

“The responsibility of the Defense Department and CIA is to be aware of what the enemy is working on and to create programs to counter it,” Jacobsen says. “Is this the chicken and the egg scenario? Is this the military industrial complex?”

Task & Purpose spoke to Jacobsen to discuss how it all started, and how it was allowed to get as far as it did. Here are five crazy but true stories about the government’s research into psychic phenomena.

1. It started with the Nazis, some of whom were obsessed with black magic.

In 1945, with the Nazi regime defeated, members of an elite U.S. scientific intelligence initiative called Operation Alsos made their way to Berlin to scoop up as much intel as possible on German military projects. In the bombed-out remnants of a villa in an affluent neighborhood in southwestern Berlin, they uncovered a cache of documents and artifacts that were part of the Ahnenerbe, Heinrich Himmler’s science organization, which was well-funded and vast. It even had an entire branch devoted to the “Survey of the So-called Occult Sciences,” Jacobsen writes in “Phenomena.”

The high-ranking Nazi leader was obsessed with the occult. On Himmler’s orders, SS officers raided Germany’s occupied territories for artifacts related to magic, even ransacking museums in Poland, Ukraine, and the Crimea for mystical texts. Nazi scientists at Ahnenerbe scoured the globe for items like the Holy Grail and the Lance of Destiny, the spear thought to have killed Christ.      

“In that organization there was… ESP, psychokinesis, map-dowsing, an element of what you could say was the supernatural, or the paranormal,” Jacobsen says. In the villa’s basement, the researchers found “remnants of teutonic symbols and rites,” as well as a baby’s skull in “a corner pit of ashes,” according to “Phenomena.”      

“We later learned that the Soviets had captured an equal probe of information on this same subject and when we learned that they were working in this area, you could say that this is the origin story of the psychic arms race,” Jacobsen says.

2. The Cold War arms race spilled over into psychic research.

The United States’ foray into the psychic research took off in the 1950s when it set about countering Soviet mind control — thought to be a legitimate concern at the time — and it was based, at least partially, off of Nazi research uncovered at Ahnenerbe. Both the U.S. and the Soviet Union relied on the caches of Nazi research they recovered, some of which detailed experiments conducted at concentration camps, where Nazi scientists pushed “human physiology to extremes” and monitored the results, Jacobsen writes in “Phenomena.”

“Now the CIA and the KGB would conduct similar experiments, each side arguing that the other side’s program required countermeasures to defend against them,” Jacobsen writes.

This fear of Soviet mind control was reinforced by videos of American prisoners of war reciting communist propaganda, Jacobsen says.

“We look back and say now, ‘That’s ridiculous, you can’t brainwash someone,’ but it certainly looked that way when you watched those old black-and-white images of those POWs,” Jacobsen explains, adding that the government’s exploration into psychic phenomena began as part of MK Ultra Program. The CIA-backed mind control program, MK Ultra, officially started in 1953, ran well into the 1960’s, and involved dosing American citizens with biological and chemical agents, like LSD, or acid, often without the individual’s knowledge.

“While they were looking into mind research and how to input behavior, the MK Ultra subproject 58 became significant, which is the program to use drugs, which they call psychopharmacology, to enhance psychic functioning in psychic people,” she says. “It’s a real jumping off point for understanding how and why this race against the Soviets began and why it’s legitimate in many ways.”

Both the Soviet Union and the U.S. government pointed to the others’ research into mind control, counter mind control, and psychic phenomena in general, as justification for their research. There were stories of Americans putting telepaths on nuclear submarines, of Soviet mind control rays, and a Russian psychic so powerful she could stop the heart of a frog with only her mind. With each new rumor, some based on actual experiments, others little more than disinformation campaigns, the psychic arms race picked up speed.

           3. That time a secretary with psychic powers found a downed Soviet bomber.

The government’s research into psychic phenomena often jumped back and forth between the DoD or the CIA, with a program being shut down after inconclusive results, only to open up under a new name. In the 1970’s, the “remote viewing program” was owned the Defense Department. Remote viewing is essentially the idea that someone can visualize details of distant people and objects through telekinesis.

A small operation was run out of Wright Patterson Air Force Base in Ohio, its chief employed a secretary, Rosemary Smith, who believed she had psychic powers.

“It was a very small-budgeted program, because most people thought it was bananas,” Jacobsen says. That changed in times of emergency, like in 1976, when the remote viewing team was given a whopper of a mission.

“A Soviet bomber had gone down in the jungles of Africa, and the CIA and military intelligence had used every intelligence collection means available to them, from satellite technology, to sig-int, to human intelligence, and they had absolutely nothing,” Jacobsen says.

With nothing to lose, the military contacted the remote viewing operation at Patterson — and they “put the secretary, Rosemary Smith, on the job, and she was able to draw maps that pinpointed where this aircraft was, within a few miles,” Jacobsen says. “The cable was sent to the CIA, and they sent a paramilitary team out to the jungle, and near the area where Rosemary Smith said it would be, they saw a villager carrying a piece of aircraft out of the jungle, and that led them to the [crash site.]”

It was an earth-shattering event, Jacobsen says: “A psychic was able to produce actionable intelligence that no one else could.”

4. Then there were the men who stared at goats, among other things.

One Army unit detailed in Jacobsen’s book, known as Detachment G, was established by top-ranking officers who were leery about the idea of bringing on “psychics” for research, so they stocked the program from within the Army’s ranks. One of the unit’s taskings was remote viewing, and in September 1979, the National Security Council called on Detachment G to use their remote viewing powers to investigate a Soviet naval base.

While concentrating on a photo in a closed envelope, one of the unit’s members described seeing a building on a shoreline, which smelled of gas and industrial products. Inside the building was a large coffin-like object — a weapon — with fins, like a shark.

A few months later the CIA received satellite imagery showing that the Soviets had constructed a new ballistic missile submarine. Later made famous by its NATO designation — the Typhoon class — the hulking nuclear sub was known in the USSR as the Akula. Russian for “shark.”

If this sounds like the basis of The Men Who Stare At Goats, that’s because it is.

5. And guess what? We still haven’t given up on this research.

“Presently, the Office of Naval Research calls this program Anomalous Mental Cognition,” Jacobsen says, referring to a $3.9 million program founded by the ONR in 2014 to investigate the existence of precognition — which they refer to as “a spidey sense.” Yes, like in the comics.

In 2006, Army Staff Sgt. Martin Richburg sensed something odd about a man at a cafe in Iraq. After clearing out the patrons, he discovered an improvised explosive device that the man had left behind. Whether it was instinct, or something more, researchers are understandably curious to see if there’s a way to trigger that kind of insight.

Because of the stigma surrounding ESP and, really, anything having to do with the supernatural, the nomenclature has changed. But Jacobsen argues that the research continues, and the underlying goal remains the same.

“In essence you have this idea, which really became the core and theme of ‘Phenomena’ which is: Is it fact, or is it fantasy?” Jacobsen says. “Or, will advanced technology, this remarkable system of systems of technology the government has developed — which includes computer technology, biotechnology, and nanotechnology — will this rubric of advanced technology allow us to solve this age old mystery: Whether or not extrasensory perception exists biologically?”    

[newstfionline]

‘Blood flowed in the streets’: Refugees from one Rohingya village recount days of horror

By Annie Gowen, Washington Post, September 16, 2017

UKHIA, Bangladesh--The soldiers arrived in the Burma village just after 8 a.m., the villagers said, ready to fight a war.

They fired shots in the air, and then, the villagers claim, turned their guns on fleeing residents, who fell dead and wounded in the monsoon-green rice paddy. The military’s retribution for a Rohingya militant attack on police posts earlier that day had begun.

Mohammed Roshid, a rice farmer, heard the gunfire and fled with his wife and children, but his 80-year-old father, who walks with a stick, wasn’t as nimble. Roshid said he saw a soldier grab Yusuf Ali and slit his throat with such ferocity the old man was nearly decapitated.

“I wanted to go back and save him, but some relatives stopped me because there was so many military,” Roshid, 55, said. “It’s the saddest thing in my life that I could not do anything for my father.”

The Burmese military’s “clearance operation” in the Maung Nu hamlet and dozens of other villages populated by Burma’s ethnic Rohingya minority triggered an exodus of an estimated 389,000 refugees into Bangladesh, an episode the United Nations human rights chief has called “ethnic cleansing.” The tide of refugees is expected to grow in the coming days. The newly arrived refugees--dazed, clutching their belongings, some barefoot in ankle-deep mud--have crowded out an existing camp and put up makeshift shelters. Others simply sit on the roadways, fighting crowds as large relief trucks fling down bags of rice or water.

Rights groups say it will take months or years to fully chronicle the devastation they are leaving behind. Satellite photos show widespread burning, witnesses recount soldiers killing civilians, and the government itself said 176 Rohingya villages stand empty. No total death toll is yet available because the area remains sealed by the military.

Nearly a dozen villagers from the Maung Nu hamlet who escaped recounted their last hours in their homes and the long journey that followed. They were interviewed for two days in Kutupalong refugee camp near the Bangladesh border, where they arrived last week. Fortify Rights, a Southeast Asia-focused human rights organization, estimates the death toll in Maung Nu and three nearby villages to be 150.

“I can’t count how many,” said Soe Win, a 10th-grade teacher. “We were all watching what the military did. They slaughtered them one by one. And the blood flowed in the streets.”

The latest wave of violence began Aug. 25, when an emerging group of Rohingya militants, the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army, attacked dozens of police outposts across Rakhine state, killing 12. The subsequent military crackdown has prompted hundreds of thousands of refugees to leave Buddhist-majority Burma, the Southeast Asian nation until recently ruled by a military junta where Rohingya have long faced denial of citizenship and other rights.

The International Rescue Committee estimates that eventually 500,000 will flee to Bangladesh, half of the known Rohingya population in the country, most of whom live in troubled Rakhine state. The area has long been riven by tensions between Buddhist villagers and the stateless Rohingya, who have been there for centuries but who are still considered by the government to be illegal immigrants, “Bengalis” from neighboring Bangladesh.

The crisis has prompted widespread outcry and condemnation of Burma and its de facto leader, Nobel laureate Aung San Suu Kyi. She and her government have said little about the plight of the Rohingya, except to reframe it as a national security matter as the new militancy has coalesced. On Monday, the U.N. High Commissioner for Human Rights, Zeid Ra’ad al-Hussein, called the exodus “a textbook example of ethnic cleansing.”

In Maung Nu, a tiny hamlet of about 750 houses that sits along a narrow stretch of the slow-moving Mayu River, the Rohingya had long lived in relative calm, sipping tea with their Buddhist neighbors, villagers say.

But their peaceful coexistence ended on when Rohingya insurgents launched their attack on police posts. The military crackdown has continued unabated since then, black smoke scudding across the skyline visible in southern Bangladesh even this past week.

Mohammed Showife, 23, an auto mechanic, said on the first day of the assault he and his family had just finished their morning prayers and were preparing rice when three soldiers appeared in the yard, announcing their arrival with a strafe of machine-gun fire and telling them they had to leave their homes immediately.

“They said, ‘You Bengalis come out from the house. You can go anywhere you want, but you can’t live here,’ “ Showife recalled.

He and his family members scattered, and he stopped to help his neighbor Mohammed Rafique, 17, whose right hip had been run clean through by a bullet, back to front. They ran through a mob looting homes and soldiers setting fire to other dwellings with shoulder-fired rocket launchers. Many took refuge in the jungle, where the dense foliage, thick after the monsoon, provided cover.

Once there, some of the women sat silently weeping. Others just looked at each other: What would they do now? They tried to attend to Rafique’s wound with boiled water and torn strips of clothing.

The first night came, an uneasy darkness settled in, the sky flickering with fire and shadows. They did not know then there would be five nights more.

On the second day, a businessman hiding in his house got a call from a tall, skinny Army sergeant they all knew and called “Bajo,” who had often dined in his home.

Bajo said the military was going to be requisitioning one of his passenger boats. Given the circumstances, Mohammed Zubair, 40, felt he had no choice but to give it to them. He sent the boat with the captain to the jetty at the nearby army camp. The officers accepted the keys with the warning for the captain: “You will also be killed.” The boat driver eventually escaped unharmed with the others.

Zubair said he had followed to see what was to become of his vessel. He says he watched in horror as the military began stacking dead bodies on the boat, one after the other, like lumber, including two 13-year-old boys he knew well.

“I fainted from seeing this,” Zubair said. He believes they were dumped in the river.

On the third day, Rafique’s mother, Khalida Begum, 35, had grown tired of moving from house to house with her four other children, desperate for news of her son. She raised them on her own on a tailor’s salary after her husband died years ago, so she and the children are unusually close. They managed to make it to the jungle, where she saw Rafique lying motionless underneath a tree.

She ran to him and covered his face with kisses, joyfully, as he emerged from his fevered haze. At first he was so disoriented that he did not recognize her. But soon they were both crying.

On the sixth day, the residents of Maung Nu decided as a group they would start walking north to the border with Bangladesh, fearing the danger was growing.

They walked for eight days with few provisions, eating banana leaves and drinking water from streams. The children whimpered. Showife carried Rafique on his back, the teen drifting in and out of consciousness. After a while, their legs began to swell.

Finally, they reached a crossing high on a hill marked by a simple pillar that they understood meant they had arrived in Bangladesh. It was 4:30 in the afternoon. It was raining. Before them was a new city of refugees, thousands of temporary tents, bamboo poles covered in black plastic sheeting.

The villagers knew there would be tough times ahead as they descended the hill, slipping a little in the mud. For days afterward, when some of them closed their eyes, they could see the lifeless bodies of their neighbors and hear the ring of gunfire in their ears.

But at the pillar, a little cheer went up.

“I was very happy,” Khalida Begum said. “I was crazy, I was excited, I thought--now we are safe.”

[everlarkbirthdaydrabbles]

Hi!! Mi birthday is March 31st! I would love a dribble in the wilderness universe... Maybe dome cute pregnant werewolf sutt?? Thanks!

Wishing you the happiest of birthdays @jobanana7! To help you celebrate in style, the lovely and generous @chele20035 has written this perfect little drabble, just for you! Enjoy

Another Piece of Their Happily Ever After… a Wilderness Drabble

rated M

“Oh,” Katniss moans. “Your fingers have to be magic.”

“You say that every time,” Annie chuckles. “You just want me to keep massaging.”

Katniss sighs, “You never should have told me that you were a therapist.”

Her stomach ripples at the sound of their voices. Katniss scratches where what could only be an elbow, or maybe a foot is poking out while Annie offers, “You were the one who was asking the questions for your new book. I can’t help it if my wolf won’t let me lie to my Alpha.”

Katniss looks up at her friend. “I’m not your alpha.”

“You are my alpha’s wife, that means you are the alpha too.” Annie rubs the towel over Katniss’ leg that was cramping. “You need to eat more bananas. Then your legs wouldn’t cramp like that.”

Katniss shivers and gags. “You know they are still making me sick.”

“Then eat an avocado.”

Katniss sits up with a grin on her face. “Mmhmm— guacamole. I need some.”

“You just want to eat my avocados.”

Katniss struggles like a turtle stuck on their back until Annie gives her a hand up.  “You have avocadoes? You know Peeta can make the best guacamole.”

Annie wrinkles her nose. “Peeta is a wolf, a carnivore. He can make guacamole?”

“He can make anything, besides, the pups want green stuff,” she exhales with a smile on her face as her belly ripples. “Oh, and chips. I need chips.”

“Well come on then. Let’s go find the Alpha,” Annie says holding out her hands again. Katniss takes them and with a grateful smile, Annie helps her down.

Annie walks ahead of her, but Katniss pauses a moment to tug her t-shirt back in place. she’s been an official member of the pack for eight months now, and she still hasn’t gotten used to being naked in front of everyone.

A smirk appears and Annie turns in time to catch it. “What’s that for?”

Katniss shakes her head. “Just thinking is all. Here we are, the first humans this pack has turned in years, and we don’t even like to be naked.”

“I don’t mind the naked part.” Annie grins. “It’s the changing in front of everyone part. Finnick always wants to—“

“Yeah I know. He always wants to drag you off to have his way with you,” Katniss giggles.

Annie’s face flushes a bright pink. Neither one is able to say anything else when Finnick himself appears at the door to their suite. He nods at his alpha’s mate, then smiles at his. “What are you two doing?”

“Katniss’ back was hurting. I was helping,” Annie replies before Finnick steals a kiss.

“I think you need to rub on me, too,” he begs.

Katniss rolls her eyes. “Let me leave you two alone,” she says as she ducks out of the room.

She doesn’t go too far when Annie calls her back. They meet in the doorway, and Annie shoves four medium sized fruits at her. “Enjoy,” she says with a wink.

Her stomach flutters as she walks back down the hall. The first time she felt it, it scared her half to death. But now, she loves to feel her pups, which the supernatural OB as Peeta called Dr. Cinna who flew in last week confirmed, roll around inside her.

She blinks as tears gather when she remembers seeing two little heartbeats on the ultrasound screen that the OB brought with him. Dr. Cinna confirmed that she was indeed twenty-four weeks, and due when Grandma Mags guessed. “I can’t wait to meet you two,” she coos as she crosses the threshold into their suite.

Not really paying attention, she runs right into someone, who grabs her by the arms before she topples backwards. Her wide silver eyes blink into Carolina blue ones, and a huge smile appears on her face. “Easy there, Kitten, I’ve got you,” Peeta murmurs, leaning in for a kiss.

She smiles against his lips, and happily exhales into his arms. His arms surround her pulling her, tighter against him. She starts to return his hug, when she remembers what she was doing before she ran into him.

And he starts kissing her.

Guacamole can wait—her stomach growls at that thought. Peeta’s eyes open slowly, and she can feel his lips move against hers, right into a smile. “Are you hungry, Kitten?”

“Very—“ she answers before she runs her tongue along the seam of his lips, begging for him to kiss her again. “But I want you, too.”

Peeta pulls away and she growls low in her throat. His brow, that one brow, shoots up in silent question. She knows that she is the only one allowed to even look him in the eye like she does, much less to show any aggression.

But her wolf knows that pups are hungry. And their mate needs to get them some food.

He looks down at her hands, and pulls her arm up until what is in her hand is within his sight. “Avocadoes?”

She grins at him. “The babies want guacamole.”

“Well, they get what they want right now. What about their mama?”

“She would like some too. Peeta?” His eyes move back to her face. When their eyes meet, she gives him a tired smile. “I love you. Thank you.”

He kisses her forehead, then her nose then a light touch on her lips. “Anything for my mate.”

Katniss has to control her wolf not to emerge and roll around on the ground in front of him at his words. “I need you—“ she pleads as she backs up towards their bedroom. The avocados are in one of her hands, while she pulls him along after her.

“Why are you taking the avocadoes to the bedroom? How kinky are we going to get?”

She stops and looks down, her cheeks flushing. She shoves them at him. “I want guacamole.”

“I thought you wanted me?”

Her gaze takes him in, lingering on the medium sized fruits in his hands making him chuckle. The pups roll again, reminding her- “I do—but I’m hungry too.”

“Can you give me five minutes?”

Her eyes light up. “How could I forget? it only takes you five minutes!” She sounds sad when she adds, “I wanted your homemade chips too.”

His chuckle still makes her heart flutter in her chest. He kisses her on the nose and mutters, “Let me make the guacamole.” He steals another kiss. “You go,” his lips skim her cheek, stopping at her ear. “Get ready for me.” He leans back suddenly, knocking her off balance, making her giggle. “Then we’ll make some chips.”

She looks past him, over at the little kitchen they have in their suite. Stepping around him, she heads for the refrigerator. He says something behind her, but in her pursuit, she doesn’t hear him. “Hang on,” she dismisses him as she opens the door. “I know it’s in here somewhere—“ she murmurs as she digs in the bottom.

“What are you looking for?” he asks behind her.

She straightens up, arms full of whatever she could find. That damned brow of his shoots up again. This time, she ignores it, and deposits everything in her arms on the counter. “You know, I will make you anything you want,” he says behind her.

Her heart speeds up, knowing that tone. When he uses it on other wolves, it’s to demand their respect. She’s since learned that his wolf is talking. And it’s usually because he feels like he needs to re-establish dominance. As his mate, she is the only one who can approach him when he is feeling this way. She also didn’t think that the food would make him feel like he wasn’t providing and taking care of them.

“I know, Peeta,” she whispers as she wraps her arms around him. He’s stiff for a long moment, until she runs her fingers through his long blond curls at the nape of his neck. She presses a kiss to his jaw. “You always take care of me, of the pups.” She presses her bulging tummy against him, and both of them startle when those same pups roll again, pushing against them both. “See, they know their Daddy. It’s just that they are making me so hungry—“

He finally relaxes, and pulls her closer into him. “Let’s find you something to eat, then.” He turns her so they are facing the food she put on the counter. “What is all this?”

Her voice is muffled when she answers, “They’ve been bringing me food.”

“Who?”

“All of them. Whoever cleans the kitchen, they will bring a plate and leave in the refrigerator.”

His grin is instant. He didn’t really worry about the pack accepting her, but with them getting pregnant so fast, they are rallying around them. “We’ll let’s see what’s in here,” Peeta says.

They quickly open the containers. There is a little bit of everything the pack kitchen has been serving over the past week. “Hey, Katniss?” She meets his gaze. “Why don’t you go relax, and I’ll whip us something.”

“I could go jump in the shower—“

He grabs her hand, and pulls her close again. After he steals a kiss, he says, “Do that. Let me take care of you.”

Her smile, that he can tell is tired, still lights up the room. A tinge of guilt pings his heart. Maybe he should have used protection when they mated. The pups—

“Shhh,” she coos. “You’re thinking too much.”

“How do you do that?” He whispers.

She shrugs. “I know you better than you know yourself. I’m just tired is all. Growing your pups is hard work, mister Alpha.” He chuckles at the nickname she calls him when she’s teasing him.

“Well, go enjoy your shower, Kitten.”

Peeta watches her disappear into their room. He wants nothing more than to follow her and join her in their huge shower. “First, food,” he murmurs as he turns back to the counter, and takes in the food gathered there. After doing a quick inventory of what is gathered, he pulls out his favorite cast iron pan, and pulls the butter out. A long Santoku knife and a cutting board joins the motley assortment.

While the pan heats up, Peeta quickly chops some left over steak, peppers and an onion. It doesn’t take him long to get everything in the pan. He looks in the refrigerator again, but can’t find the tortilla shells he thought were in there.

“That explains why she said ‘no homemade chips’.” He looks at the basket they keep their bread in. “Hey! Some sub rolls.” He reaches for them, along with the provolone cheese. He quickly assembles the sandwiches and slides them into the little convection oven.

He then slices open the avocadoes. His smile appears when he hears the shower cut off in the bathroom. Quickly, he adds a pinch of this, and a dash of that. By the time his mate comes back out, and slides her arms around him, her guacamole is ready. He grabs the bag of chips out of the cabinet, disappointment making him frown that he can’t make her the homemade chips she’s asking for.

“I have bad news.”

“What?” she asks, her voice muffled in his shirt. He can hear her inhaling his scent, making his wolf come to the surface.

“We don’t have any tortillas. All we have is store-bought chips.”

“No homemade chips then?”

“I’m sorry, Kitten.”

“It’s ok.” He feels her move and her head appears looking around his arm. “That smells amazing, and looks even better.”

“Anything for you.”

Katniss lets go of him, and comes into his line of sight. He can feel her looking up at him, searching—“You really do mean that, don’t you?”

Peeta stops mid stir so he can meet her gaze. The spoon is loud as it clangs against the ceramic bowl Katniss bought on one of her trips to Atlanta. “What?”

Her face grows pink. “I know that you love me. After that mess with Clove—“ she stops as an involuntary shudder dances up her spine. “I love you, but you,” she pauses as she wraps herself in his arms. He pulls her tight against him and rests his lips on the crown of her head as she continues, “Really would do anything for me. For the pups.” She is still for a long moment before he feels her move again. He loosens his hold and she looks up at him. “I would do anything for you. I hope you know that.”

Warmth, that sweet precious warmth that he feels whenever she is near heats him up. “I do know that.”

“Take the sandwiches out of the oven,” she commands softly.

“Why? Are they done?”

“They can wait. Right now.” She meets his eyes again, and smirks. “I need you.”

“You do?” That damned brow raises. “What about your food?”

“Later,” she growls as her wolf shimmers under the surface. Katniss and her wolf have both been too nervous to shift, since they got pregnant. But her wolf is always close. She stands on her tiptoes so she can reach him, and he meets her halfway. Their lips meet.

They both feel a surge of desire shoot through them. It pools in her center, while his makes him hard. Her hands find the hem of this shirt, while his fingers find the waistband of her yoga pants. Her pants hit the floor, along with her panties, and his shirt lands on top of them. She giggles, while she unfastens his jeans and he tugs off her shirt. The discarded clothes join the rest, with her bright coral bra landing on top like the metaphoric cherry.

Not that either one of them notice.

Lips trail to nipples, making her groan. She buries her fingers in his curls, not willing to let him go. She opens herself up to him, welcoming him as he sinks into her unable to wait any longer.

“Fuck Peeta,” she purrs. “You feel so good.”

He slowly begins to pump his hips. “Is that what you’ve been waiting for?” he grinds against her, making sure that he hits her clit. “Is that what you want?”

She clutches his shoulders, her orgasm building quickly. “Peeta—“ she gasps unable to hold her wolf back, she feels her canines grow, and she sinks them into the sweet spot where his neck curves into his shoulder.

He quivers under her touch. She’s marked him before, several times, unable to ignore the urge to bite, to claim. The wolf inside her likes to claim what’s theirs. And make sure everyone knows it.

She bares her neck, and he returns the love bite, making her growl. At her submission, he increases his motions. Not that it takes much at this point, as she begins to shudder around him. He leans up so he can see her. when her eyes roll back as her orgasm washes over her, he speeds up, chasing his own. The tingle starts in his back, stopping at his balls, but he doesn’t allow himself to come. “Do you want me to come, Kitten?”

Waves of pleasure still wash over her as she tries to speak. Unable to form words at this point, she meekly nods. He lowers himself, until he can reach her lips. They meet, and it’s all she can do to hang on while he snaps his hips. Another orgasm catches her by surprise as he groans his release into her. He’s kissing her as they both enjoy the endorphins rocketing through their systems.

When he stills, he collapses and rolls to her side, careful to keep his weight off of her. He pulls her close and she nestles her head in the sweet spot right over his heart and she wraps her arms around him.

“I don’t think I can move,” his whisper fills the space around them.

She stills from where she was rubbing his stomach. It takes her a moment, but when she can finally sit up, with his help of course, she meets his sleepy gaze. “Food, Mellark. I need some food.” She pushes on him, making him roll over. “Your pups need food.” In a sing-song voice like the hit song, she starts to sing, “You’ve got to move it, it—“

He gets to his feet with a chuckle. “Alright, alright.” He grabs the bowl of guacamole and the chips they do have and sets them on the table. Then he holds out his hands for hers. She places hers in his, and he tugs her to her feet in one swift move. Before she can say anything, he is offering her a chip, loaded down with green stuff.

“Mmhmmm—that’s so good,” she moans.

“Sit, so I can feed you some more.” Katniss gladly listens to him. she munches on chips while he works at their short counter. The oven dings, and he pulls out something that smells so good, her mouth starts to water. He quickly plates what he pulled out of the oven, and sits it before her.

Her smile is bright as she sinks her teeth into the sandwich. When she stops humming long enough to get another bite, she looks up. Her heart flips when she meets his eyes, smiling at her.

She grabs a quick drink. When she can talk again, she returns his grin. “I love you, Peeta Mellark.”

“And I love you, Katniss Mellark.”