#reminds me of how they both wanted to bite the oods heads!!!

[that-homoerotic-blouse]

David and Catherine losing their minds with the wild blue yonder prosthetics is truly like the old times bless them

[rmtndew]

All I’ve Ever Known ~ Chapter 4

Summary: Fiona’s life is a shattered fraction of what it used to be. She’s trying to navigate her new normal when she meets Detective Marshall, who gives her something more to look forward to.

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This was intended as a short drabble but it got out of hand and became a multi-chapter story instead. It’s my first Marshall fic and the first fan fic that I’ve written in over a decade. The title comes from the song ‘All I’ve Ever Known’ from Hadestown: ‘I was alone so long, I didn��t even know that I was lonely. Out in the cold so long, I didn’t even know that I was cold. Turned my collar to the wind, this is how it’s always been. All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you, too.’

Tag list - @hollydaisy23​​, @readings-of-a-cavill-lover​​, @onlyhenrys​​, @omgkatinka​​, @speakerforthedead0-blog​​, @gearhead66​​,  @thethirstyarchive​, @oddsnendsfanfics​, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira​, @aaescritora​,

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

I woke the next morning ten minutes before my alarm went off. At first I couldn’t figure out why and tried burrowing back into my warm bed to get my last few minutes of sleep back, but then my phone alerted me to a new text and I realized that’s what had woken me up. I sighed. I knew it was Darcy. Sometimes she woke up early with big ideas for her store and texted them to me, asking my opinion. She met me when I was working in interior design and any time she entertained the idea of having a dine in section, she’d send me pictures of what she wanted and ask how feasible it would be. Most of the time they were way too grand to fit into her pre-existing building. Other times she’d talk about a small coffee shop to encourage more people to come in and pick up their own orders and cut back on our deliveries. But I couldn’t see how renovating a portion of the store, buying new equipment and hiring extra employees to run a coffee shop would lower costs just by maybe cutting back on some deliveries. 

I was planning on ignoring the text until after I’d actually gotten up, but when another came through I knew it was best to just go ahead and nip it in the bud before she sent me an entire magazine’s worth of photos. But when I hit the home button on my phone I saw that the texts hadn’t come from Darcy. I had to squint against the brightness of the screen to make sure I saw the name right. Marshall.

I sat up and turned on my lamp, then looked at my phone again, reading the texts from their previews. 

Hey, it’s Marshall. I had a great  time yesterday. Sorry I was falling asleep on you. Can I make it up  to you this weekend?

Sorry. You’re probably sleeping. It might take more than coffee to make it up to you now. Dinner?

I suddenly felt wide awake and was no longer irritated by my few minutes of missed sleep. I would have gladly given up several hours for those texts. I decided not to reply to them right then, though. I wanted to make sure I’d had enough coffee to formulate a comprehensible reply and not look like I was drunk texting him, which I had a history of. My conversations with Darcy at five in the morning were proof of that. 

I got up and went about my morning routine like usual, trying not to wake Mom. When I made my way downstairs, I poured a cup of coffee and sat at the table. I sipped it, thinking about what to say to Marshall. I wrote and rewrote the text half a dozen times before finally having something I felt okay with, then I sent it.

Hey Marshall. I had a great time, too. You don’t have to make up for anything but I’d still like to have dinner with you. What day did you have in mind?

My heart was thudding from nerves and excitement. I was so focused on trying to calm myself down that I almost didn’t hear Mom when she walked in.

“Morning, sweetie,” she said, grabbing a coffee cup.

“Good morning,” I replied, then jumped slightly as my phone vibrated on the table. I tried not to look too enthusiastic as I grabbed it. 

Does Saturday work for you?

“Darcy again?” Mom asked, pouring coffee for herself. 

“Um...no, actually.” I tried biting back a smile but it didn’t work. “It’s Marshall.”

Her eyes went wide and she smiled back. “He’s writing to you at six in the morning?”

“He actually wrote me earlier. He asked if I wanted to have dinner with him Saturday.”

She sat down at the table beside me. “What did you tell him?”

“I haven’t replied yet. I don’t want him to think I’m just waiting by the phone for him.”

She looked at the phone in my hand. “Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing, though?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t have to know it.”

She laughed then blew on her coffee. “I’m glad this whole texting business wasn’t around when I was dating your father.”

“Even if it was, you’re a lot more forward than I am. You wouldn’t have had a single issue with texting Dad first, or answering him right away,” I said. My phone made another sound, reminding me of my unread text and I finally opened it, then replied. 

Saturday is perfect. What time  would you like to meet? 

“Well, there was only room enough for one coy person in our relationship and Rodger called that role,” Mom said after I put my phone down. 

I laughed. “I don’t think ‘coy’ was the right word for Dad. I think socially awkward was more appropriate.”

“He was too smart to be a social butterfly, too. He had to have a couple of flaws.”

“He couldn’t set the timer for the coffee pot, no matter how many times I showed him, and he thought that the Sharknado movies were amazing. He had his flaws,” I joked.

“This coffee pot is confusing.”

“He was an engineer!”

My phone buzzed in my hand and that time I didn’t wait to open the text. I read it right away. 

Would you let me pick you up  instead? Around six?

“Well, what does he say?” Mom asked.

“He wants to pick me up instead of me meeting him.”

“Are you going to let him?” 

I looked at her and she was smiling at me. I shook my head at her, laughing again. “You want him to come here so that you can see him, don’t you?”

She shrugged. “You keep talking about how handsome he is.”

“He is handsome. And it’s an awfully gentlemanly thing to do…” I bit my lip for a moment, pretending to think it over.

“Just tell him yes. We both know you’re going to.”

I gave another laugh. “Fine.”

I would like that, thank you. And  I’m curious, what does Detective  Marshall eat when he’s not eating a  cuban sandwich and plain chips?

I put my phone on the table. “What are your plans for today?” I asked, then took a sip of my coffee. 

She gave me a cheeky grin. “Changing the subject.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not changing the subject. I’m asking what my mother is going to be doing while I’m out earning the bread for this family,” I joked.

She snorted. “You don’t earn the bread, Fi, you just bake it.” She nodded at my arm. “And burn yourself in the process.”

“That’s the first time I’ve burnt myself in a year and a half. I’d say that’s a pretty good record.”

“That’s true,” she said. “And if you must know, I was thinking of going down to Valley and talking to Georgia about starting music lessons again after the new year. I think by then I’ll have recovered enough to be able to teach at least a few days a week.”

“You’re going to put yourself around snot nosed kids in the dead of flu season?” I asked dryly.

“I’ll be teaching teenagers, not little kids, and I’ll wear a mask,” she said. “I’ll make sure to clean everything between students and have them use hand sanitizer when they come in. I’m not going to be immunocompromised forever, and I’m not going to live in a bubble until then, either.” She gave me a smirk. “Besides, I can’t let you be the only one that earns the bread around here.”

I laughed at her but it was cut short when my phone buzzed again. 

Stuff that’s probably not very  good for him. Like Italian.  How does that sound?

Just when I thought I couldn’t be any more attracted to him, he confessed to liking my favorite type of food. I couldn’t stop my train of thought that went to me one day making an Italian dinner for him as a date. But my mind’s eye set up the imaginary dinner in my old apartment and I knew that would never happen. I let that thought go and took a deep breath, trying to focus my attention on the present moment.

That sounds great. I love  Italian food.

I sent it and sat back in my seat. I tried not to let my mind wander too far down the road with Marshall. I’d been on a lot of first dates in my life with guys that I’d thought were great who turned out to be jerks and I knew what that disappointment felt like. And even though I couldn’t imagine Marshall disappointing me in the same way they had - he’d proven at our coffee date that he was far more respectful, even while he was tired - I wanted to remind myself that I needed to take things one step at a time. 

Perfect. I’ll see you  Saturday at six, then.

I must have looked pretty gooey eyed over the whole thing because Mom reached out and touched my wrist gently. When I looked at her, the teasing tone was gone from her face and she was smiling at me. “I’m happy for you, sweetie. I really am.” 

I was a ball of nerves all Saturday morning and afternoon. More than I’d ever been on the day of a first date. But nothing with Marshall fell into my ‘usual’ category. There was something about him that made him different from any other man I’d gone out with. And maybe that was it: He was a man. Not some boy masquerading as one. He was quiet, and fierce, and protective. He thought before he spoke. And even when delivering a threat - like he had to that creep in the bar - he’d done it calmly and with authority. He exuded confidence, not cockiness, and there was honestly nothing more attractive than that. 

I was nearly ready, just zipping up my boots, when I heard a crash downstairs. I rushed down and found Mom in the kitchen, trying to pick up the broken pieces of one of her giant coffee mugs.

“I’m - I’m not sure what happened,” she said. “I just lost my grip.”

“It’s okay.” I took a step towards her, trying to avoid the pile of porcelain. “Let me clean it up.” 

“I can do it,” she said, sounding flustered.

“I know you can but you’re in socks and I’m wearing boots.”

She stood her ground for a moment, then finally sighed and relented, taking a step back. “Okay. I’ll get you the broom.”

“It’s fine. I’ll get it. Just watch your step.”

I went to grab the broom as she threw away the large chunks of her broken cup that she’d been able to pick up with her hands. I could tell she was frustrated. 

“You know, if you didn’t like that mug, you could have just gotten rid of it, you didn’t have to break it,” I joked, taking the broom and dustpan from the broom closet. “Or were you afraid I wouldn’t take the hint and buy you another one if I thought it just went missing?” 

She gave a small laugh but I could tell she was still embarrassed. “I actually liked that coffee mug a lot.”

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can -” 

The doorbell rang and she stopped mid-sentence. We both froze, my eyes flicking to the clock on the stove. It was 5:53. Marshall was early. After a moment, Mom took a step towards me, holding out her hand to take the broom from me. I shook my head.

“You’re wearing socks,” I reminded her. “I don’t want you to cut your foot.”

Her eyes grew wide. “So you’re going to clean up after me while I go meet your date?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She brushed her hand over her barely there hair, trying to collect herself, then let out a breath. “Okay, I’ll go let him in.”

“Don’t be too charming. He might have a thing for cougars and I don’t want to have to fight my mom for a guy.”

She smiled for real, the embarrassment of having her daughter clean up after her letting go enough that it was no longer plainly visible. “No promises,” she joked, then left the kitchen to answer the door. 

It didn’t take long to clean up. Even though the cup had shattered pretty good, its bright white color stood out against the dark wood of the floor, making even the tiniest pieces easy to see. After making sure I’d cleaned it all up, I threw away the pieces and put up the broom and dustpan, then went to find Mom and Marshall. 

They were standing in the entryway. Mom was saying something about teaching at Valley and Marshall stood in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back, and a look of sincere focus on his face as she spoke. Mom was a small woman but next to him, she looked comically tiny. 

I paused for a moment, taking him in. His hair looked a bit more controlled than any other time I’d seen him, his curls tighter and not quite as messy. His beard looked like it had been trimmed, giving it a purposeful look instead of the ‘I’m too busy to shave’ vibe that I’d gotten from him previously. He wore a thick blue sweater that made the color of his eyes pop when they drifted over to me. It was brief, maybe less than a second, before concentrating on Mom again. But he had a slight smile and it was enough for her to notice. She turned and looked at me. 

“There she is. I guess I’ll stop talking your ear off and let you two go,” she said. 

Marshall smiled at her, then at me, bigger that time. “I didn’t realize I was early. I apologize.” 

“No, don’t. You’re fine,” I said, moving to grab my coat. “I’m ready, I was just cleaning up a broken cup. I’m basically like Cinderella around here.” 

Mom snorted. “Hardly. Cinderella was made to do chores. You’re the one who won’t let me lift a finger,” she said. “Besides, I think she sang while she worked.”

I raised my eyebrow at her as I put my coat on. “Do you want me to sing?”

She shook her head. “No. No one wants that, sweetie,” she said, making Marshall laugh. She looked at him. “Fi spent a good portion of her teenage years screaming along to music in her room. I didn’t even know you could make ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ sound angry until she proved otherwise. Needless to say, her father and I encouraged her other interests a bit more enthusiastically.”

I grabbed my purse. “I should have let you clean up your own mess and answered the door myself,” I joked before kissing the top of her head. “Bye, Mom.”

Marshall smiled again. “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Sparks.”

“Likewise, Detective Marshall. You two have fun.”

We left the house and after a few steps down the walkway, he jabbed his thumb back at the door. “She’s funny.”

“She can be,” I agreed. “She’s a spitfire, though, that’s for sure.”

“I like it.”

“Yeah, I like it, too.”

We walked to his truck and he opened the door for me. “You look gorgeous, by the way,” he said as I got in. 

I felt myself blush instantly, caught off guard by the compliment. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, closing the door for me. 

We’d only made it to the driveway and my stomach was already doing somersaults. He made me feel like a teenage girl, all giddy and excited, and I loved it.

He went around the front of the truck, then climbed in the driver’s side. I tried to sneak a look at him while he was putting on his seat belt but he caught me. He smiled as I snapped my head straight ahead. 

“Sorry, I just, I was…” I tried to think of an excuse but I couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound lame. I let out a sigh. “I was checking you out,” I admitted. “I can’t lie. There’s no point. Sorry.”

“That’s the least offensive thing a woman has ever apologized to me for,” he said with a laugh, starting the truck. He leaned forward enough to catch my eye, making me instinctively turn my head towards him. He grinned. “Did you see anything you like?”

My blush deepened and I couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Maybe.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, that is a nice sweater.” 

“Oh, so you were checking out my jumper?”

I shrugged. “It brings out your eyes.”

“Does it now?”

“It does. And you have very lovely eyes.”

“Thank you,” he said. “But my daughter bought the jumper, so I can’t take credit for it.”

“She did a good job,” I said, forcing my eyes to look up front as we pulled out of the driveway. Even though I’d already admitted to checking him out, there was a difference between looking and leering and I didn’t want to come off as creepy. “I take it that this wasn’t your weekend to have her?”

“It was supposed to be but she was invited to a Halloween party with some of her friends so she asked to do that instead. She’ll be with me tomorrow.”

“What did she dress as? For the party.”

“A cowgirl.” 

“Does she ride horses or did she just like the costume?” 

“No, she rides. She took lessons when she was a bit younger. And she and I go riding some weekends.” 

“So you’re Detective Marshall during the week and cowboy Marshall on the weekends? Does that ever cross over? Do they have mounted police in the homicide unit?”

He shook his head as he laughed. “No, not that I’m aware of.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Is it now?” he asked, and his tone made me blush all over again.

“I’m actually not going to answer that. I’m going to wait until we get a little further from my house to fully embarrass myself so that when you fake an emergency to get rid of me, my ego doesn’t get too crushed.”

“Do you really think I’d do that?”

“I hope not, but I’ve been excited about having dinner with you, so I’m going to try not to mess it up.”

“I think you’d have to try pretty hard to mess it up,” he said as we stopped at the end of my street. He glanced at me. “And I’ve been excited about it, too.”

[everlark-your-own-adventure]

Mockingjay Manor - Ch 9

Chapter One /// Chapter Two /// Chapter Three /// Chapter Four /// Chapter Five /// Chapter Six /// Chapter Seven /// Chapter Eight

Happy Tuesday, Everlarkers! It’s time for one last visit to Mockingjay Manor. Times are tense for our heroes, injuries and enemies abound. How will they extract themselves from this mess? Hang on tight as @katnissdoesnotfollowback concludes our gripping journey in dramatic style!

“Do you still have your phone?” I ask Finnick. Seneca has now made his way inside the house, dousing the floors in the foyer with gasoline as he goes, and I briefly think that it’d be too much to ask for experiment M to make a reappearance right about now.

“In my pocket, but it’s dead,” Finnick reminds me, shifting Peeta’s weight on his shoulders.

“Peeta keeps a charger in the glove box. Here.” I try to search his pockets, but Peeta mumbles something and flinches back away from me again. Finnick barely keeps them from tumbling to the ground. He’s figured out what I’m doing, though, and distracts Peeta long enough for me to get the keys out of his pocket. “Make for the Jeep, call 9-1-1 as soon as you can. I’ll try to stall Seneca somehow.”

“Be careful, Katniss,” Finnick warns and then slinks through the shadows closer to the Jeep. I creep my way up to the front porch. From behind one of the columns, I watch Effie through the windshield as she lifts a large compact and slicks on a coat of lipstick. While she’s focused on her appearance, I slip inside the house and square my shoulders.

“Hey, asshole!” I yell and Seneca whirls around to face me, spraying gasoline over the beautiful floors. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I was looking for you,” he states weakly. “It’s so dangerous to go exploring in a rickety old house this late at night.”

“So you were going to burn it down around my ears?” I ask and Seneca fumbles for a moment or two, waving his hand in a useless gesture.

“Of course not,” he insists and rage fills me. I think of Johanna and Madge, somewhere in this house and oblivious to the danger they’re in. At least this new one. I think of Uncle Haymitch and how he’d been manipulated, used, and possibly blackmailed. His murdered wife Maysilee. Creepy Snow and his experiments topped off with these two greedy leeches trying to burn down my house and not caring who they hurt in the process. And I think of Peeta, his strange behavior and how I might still lose him tonight. But if I think about that too much, I might go insane, so instead I cling to my rage and pull the threads before I come unraveled.

I point towards the bright red gas can in his hands and snarl at him. “So I suppose that’s here to start a campfire. Did you bring marshmallows, too? I’m afraid I’m all out of chocolate bars to make s’mores. Fed them to the creepy, mutant birds in the attic.”

“Well I, uh—” he stammers and then the strangest thing happens. His eyes harden and he stands up straight. The usual fop that I’ve come to despise on some low level disappears and in his place is something sleeker and far more dangerous. “You’re just like him, you know. Your uncle. He was sarcastic and blind when he met his end, too.”

I take a few steps inside and Seneca flinches, so I keep going. “He died of a heart attack,” I remind Seneca, who laughs cruelly at my words.

“Oh no, my dear Katniss. He didn’t at all.”

“You’re a murderer!” I shout. He smiles and then something sharp scrapes painfully across my back. I yell and stagger forward, falling to my knees as I hear the familiar click clack of Effie’s heels and the soft tsk-ing of her tongue. Flames lick over my back as the floor boils in bright orange bubbles. How stupid of me to think she’d just wait inside the car.

“So impolite. Making such vile, unfounded accusations. Seneca is merely taking care of a public menace for me, aren’t you darling?” Effie trills as she examines her nails. The ends glow with something viscous and red. I try to crawl towards the door, but the orange bubbles have turned hot and burn my palms. The floor tilts violently and I retch. “Not to worry, my dear. The first dose is always the worst. From there…it’s only a matter of time.” Seneca hands her a fluttering white cloth and she sighs as she wipes her nails with it, staining the pristine thing red. Her talons, I realize. She’s laced them with the devil’s breath. Vines of the things sprout from the floor and wrap around my ankles, slowing my progress.

“And since you don’t have much time, let me explain a few things to you. Haymitch Abernathy was a drunken fool. A coward, too afraid to take risks. He was on his way to becoming one of the greatest engineers of our time but instead, he wanted a family with that whiny milksop of a wife. Well I knew I couldn’t just let him go and waste his millions on a pack of snotty children just like you. Poor Maysilee, unable to conceive though they did try so very hard,” Effie sings the words in a grating tune of false sympathy. I’ve almost reached the door as she keeps talking. Maybe if I can get there, through the ant hills sprouting up from the floor and spewing forth giant red ants, maybe I can flag down Finnick in the Jeep. My pulse pounds in my ears and for a moment, I think my heart actually slows. The distant rumbles of thunder alert me to the return of the storm.

“Well I couldn’t let them adopt a child. So Seneca and I took measures to make sure they didn’t. Your dear friend was correct about that,” she sneers and I freeze. How could she know about Madge–

Effie whistles and a flock of birds swoops gracefully down from the rafters. “Experimented on her with the Devil’s Breath.” One of them says in Madge’s voice. “Let experiment M loose.” Johanna’s voice joins in, “You need an exorcist.”

“Weapons in the house,” another says in my voice this time. Another sings about the hanging tree in Finnick’s and I cover my ears as all of our voices merge together and the birds form a swarm, screaming out in pain and fear.

“Katniss! Run!” Peeta’s voice yells above me. Peeta. I have to get to Peeta. It’s all I can think as the wings beat all around me, their beaks pecking at me and their words driving me insane. There’s a puff of sulfur and a light just above me. I reach towards it as Seneca stares down at me from the doorway, his face garish in the light from the match, his eyes black tar pits. I can just see the Jeep at a distance, two figures wrestling in the night. One of them scrambles for the door and the other wrenches him away as Effie hums and saunters back towards her Jaguar, it’s eyes glowing red. I can’t move. Instead, I watch, helpless as Peeta falls on Finnick and his fingers close around his throat—

“Okay, that’s it!” I shout and snatch the flashlight from Johanna’s hands. She freezes with her arm extended, hand curled into a strangling motion and her face twisted in rage. “You are not making Peeta murder Finnick.”

“What? No!” Finnick protests and shoves another handful of popcorn in his mouth. “If waf ‘us effing ‘ood.”

“Oh it was only now getting good?” Johanna asks and pops her hip to glare at her good friend.

Peeta lifts his marshmallow from the fire and frowns at the flaming thing before blowing it out. “Dang it, Jo. You made me burn another one.”

“Let her finish, Katniss,” Annie protests, her green eyes wide and luminescent in the firelight. “I want to know how it ends.”

“No!” I yell and everyone stares at me. I cross my arms and wriggle deeper into the blanket. “Couldn’t you have at least told your scary story from your own point of view?”

“That’s no fun,” Jo says with a wicked grin. “I don’t scare as easily as you do.”

“BLAGH!”

Hands clamp down on my shoulders. I scream. Smack them off and jump straight into Peeta’s lap as the other’s around the campfire lose it. Even Peeta’s biting his lip and trying not to laugh at me. I whack his chest as Madge wraps her arms around us both.

“I’m sorry, Katniss. I couldn’t resist,” Madge says between laughs. I plant my hand on her face and shove her away.

“None of you are my friends anymore,” I say petulantly.

“So do we all die or what?” Peeta asks and Jo shrugs before pointing around the circle. She starts with Finnick.

“Killed by your friend because you’re the jokester.” Next comes Madge. “Burned alive in the house, still haunts the grounds to this day with eerie song.” Madge claps her hands in glee. Then Johanna points to Peeta. “Locked in an asylum for the rest of your days.” To me, “Killed by the villain in your heroic efforts to save everyone else. Oh and that’s also because you had s-e-x,” she whispers the letters as she crosses her arms and grins. I sputter and protest that this was her story, not mine. She ignores me and moves on to herself. “Got away but don’t worry, I bite it in the sequel. Torn to shreds by the inexplicable reappearance of Experiment M.” She wriggles her fingers and twists her features into a grotesque mask. Then she drops her voice into a quiet but deep, creepy warble. “And Annie? Annie visits the burned-out shell of a house to look for her beloved and only finds the charred remains of a brass keyring, the echoes of birdsong, and half of Maysilee’s burned up portrait. Annie, of course, is the star of that sequel.”

“Oh no,” Annie says in the long pause after Johanna’s words and shakes her head, although she’s smiling.

“This is the thanks I get for letting you stay in my lavish mansion and mooch off my riches,” I mock. I try to stay mad at Johanna, but I can’t. The others seem just fine, talking about their favorite parts of her winding and twisted tale. Eventually, the full moon hangs high above us and the distant sounds of the night animals prowling in the woods beyond the fences reach our ears. Annie shivers and Finnick wraps a blanket around her, telling us that they’re turning in for the night. Madge and Johanna are next, laughing about the reality of our first meeting.

“No mutant birds, but I’m still not sure what kind of fungus that was growing in that attic aviary,” Madge jokes as she refers to the room she was hired to consult on the restoration of, only for us to learn that she was also Haymitch’s niece through her Aunt Maysilee. 

When it’s just Peeta and me, he roasts a few more marshmallows for us while I stand on the edge of the verandah and gaze up at the restored façade of Mockingjay Manor. It took some serious work and we almost missed our six month deadline, but in the end, we managed to meet Haymitch’s challenge.

I shift my eyes to look over at the house falling into disrepair next door. Next door is thankfully a bit of distance, though. It took the chill of fall to finally kill the smell of the genetically altered roses from his gardens and it will take some time to get over Coriolanus Snow’s attempts to blackmail me with Uncle Haymitch’s past as we worked to restore the manor. His nearly successful tries at blocking each step of the project. For now, it’s Snow’s estate that remains embroiled in legal debates, the old man having finally croaked during tea time, his death shrouded in mystery along with the scars ranging in age from a few weeks to years old found all over his body, resembling claw markings but unmatched to any kind of animal known to science. Maybe that’s why Johanna’s story freaked me out so much. Because at some point, it became difficult to find the line between the real and the made up as she spun the tale.

Mockingjay cosmetics, the hushed-up scandals of corporate misdeeds and ethics violations. The weird dreams that plagued Peeta for weeks after clearing the gardens and the bushes filled with razor sharp thorns left his arms cut and his blood exposed to toxins from fungi and plants alike. Even the hint of murder in Maysilee’s death. The child scheduled for adoption to two eager parents who built her a beautiful nursery, left somewhere in the system when the adoption agency pulled out and refused to give just Haymitch custody after Maysilee died. Haymitch wanted me to make it right, to find her and make sure she had a home, a family. I have a name – Lavinia Tulane. But I still haven’t gotten much farther than that.

“We’ll keep looking,” Peeta assures me as he steps up behind me and wraps his arms around me, his loud footfalls ensuring that he, at least, can’t scare me tonight. Something about Johanna’s story keeps nagging at me, though, and as I look up at Peeta’s concerned face, I know what it is that upset me so much. Just the idea of losing Peeta. But he’s here in front of me, so very alive and safe as he speaks softly. “In the meantime, do you want that last s’more? Or would you rather just go to bed?” That’s a question I definitely know the answer to. So I grab his hand and tug him inside and up the stairs, to where adventures of a more enjoyable nature await.

And that, friends, concludes Mockingjay Manor! We hope you enjoyed the ride! The story, in its entirety, will be posted on AO3 in time for Hallowe’en.

We’d like to express our deepest gratitude to our incredible group of authors, @burkygirl, @jennagill, @albinokittens300, @peetamymuse, @norbertsmom, @appleblossomgirl0305, @mega-aulover, @xerxia31, @katnissdoesnotfollowback and @peetabreadgirl. Your talent and creativity astounds us, you took this story to places we never could have imagined. Thank you!!

Itching for more Everlark-your-own-adventure? Stay tuned, because we’ll be launching a brand new story soon!

[the-rain-shall-fall]

Just One Kiss

So it’s @bloghisoka‘s birthday today and good thing I prepared this in advance. No you didn’t read anything gdi. First things first. I thank my lucky stars I have met a friend as lovely and weird and funny as you, albeit a bit dense. Second, I’m sorry for making you constantly worry about me. Third, Happy Birthday, Hun. May you have more birthdays to come and here’s a little fic for you. Yes, I’m an ass for fueling the Vanderyoung ship let me love you~

[Also on AO3]

Vanderwood sighed for the umpteenth time as he watched Seven frolic around the mall in a white dress with a red bow tied around his waist. He remembered agreeing to this date because the red-head wouldn’t even talk to him after getting denied thrice, sulking while he finished his overflowing, and pending work. If he was the same agent back then, he’d completely ignore the sulking hacker and do his job. But situations changed and it’s been quite a few months since they got together. A few months without even a proper date, as Seven said.

It took a back hug, a few cheek and forehead kisses, and PhD Pepper infused cupcakes for the hacker to giggle and give in, leaning against him while nibbling on the cupcakes. But as always, Seven was denied when he asked for a kiss on the lips. It was fun teasing him with kisses, but not on the lips, where the hacker wanted most. Seven would pout and whine at him, but it had proven to be his favorite pastime so the hacker learned how to settle for these “kitten kisses” as he named them.

The agent followed as the red-head entered an accessory shop, trying on bunny ears and cat paws. He smiled and watched his boyfriend browse the store with bright eyes and a huge grin. It had been a while since Vanderwood saw that combination, and he was glad he decided to go on with this date despite his initial refusal. Everyday had been hard, being an agent and getting sent to life threatening missions always made Seven worry. But he’d always, always receive a reassuring kiss, a silent promise that the brunet would come back alive and in one piece.

“Luciel, are you done yet?” The brunet called after a few minutes of Seven browsing and trying on a few accessories. He seemed troubled with choosing a choker – one was plain velvet with a gold pendant while the other had lace partnered with a red pendant. “Get the gold one. It brings out your eyes.” Vanderwood would later deny feeling smug as he managed to make his boyfriend a blushing mess.

With their fingers intertwined and arms linked, Seven dragged him to the arcades. The agent liked going to the arcades. The both of them were very competitive, and every time they would drop by, it would mean a healthy competition. And he wasn’t disappointed as Seven went straight to the racing game, golden eyes filled with mirth and a smirk on his face, clearly challenging the brunet. Vanderwood lost 2-3, but in his defense, hearing the other’s laughter was distracting and if losing would make him hear it, the brunet would lose over and over again.

Seven demanded a kiss as a reward, his lips already puckered as he tugged on the older man’s sleeve. The brunet sighed, what was this man’s deal with kisses anyway? He took hold of the younger man’s hand and kissed the top of it, earning a pout from the red-head.

“The lips, you brute! Lips!” Vanderwood’s eyebrow rose as he crossed his arms.

“You didn’t specify where.” His ‘girlfriend’ made a shocked face, before stomping off to play other arcades games. As much as he loved the idiot, teasing Seven was a whole lot more fun than simply complying with his requests.

“I want to play some more~” The hacker pouted, slumping on one of the benches, a big stuffed bunny in his arms the brunet got for him in the crane game. They had wasted hours in the arcades and being the responsible one, Vanderwood reminded him of lunch.

“You said earlier we’d get something after getting this rabbit.”

“Well, I changed my mind!” And as if protesting, Seven’s stomach made a rumbling sound, which made the older man snort. The poor red-head buried his face against the stuffed bunny in embarrassment, his cheeks and ears bright red which the brunet found endearing.

“Play some more and be back here in 20 minutes while I get us food?” Golden eyes peeked at him, and he earned a little nod. Vanderwood couldn’t help but ruffle the other’s hair. He was getting soft, being around such an affectionate person as Seven, but he didn’t mind. It was worth all those times when the hacker would withdraw himself from everything, even from him.

“Where’s my kiss?” There was that pout and tugging at his sleeve again. Vanderwood smiled slightly and leaned down, inching closer as if he would finally kiss his boyfriend’s lips. He changes his course at the last second, and ended up kissing Seven’s flushed cheek. He chuckled and made his escape, Seven’s whining heard in the background.

The beginning of their relationship wasn’t all butterflies and rainbows. There was a lot of underlying fear and doubts, Seven’s walls were sometimes too high and Vanderwood even thought that they weren’t compatible and it was better if they broke it off. But then he’d remember those times when they weren’t bickering, when there was just comfortable silence between them, when the hacker would hug him from behind as the brunet cooked while uttering gibberish he could barely understand but still found it adorable. It brought a smile to the brunet, seeing as how they both made this relationship work, even with the constant ups and downs.

His trip to the food stall didn’t take too long, and he expected Seven sitting on the same place he left him before. What he got was three men hitting on the pissed hacker. One even had a hand on Seven’s wrist, preventing him from escaping. This was why he didn’t want to go on a date with the agent crossdressing. His idiot boyfriend was too much of a beauty, he could catfish anyone.

“I’d appreciate it if you leave my girlfriend alone.” Vanderwood towered behind the men, Seven using their momentarily confusion as a chance to escape and run towards the brunet. He kissed the hacker’s forehead and wrapped an arm possessively around his waist, glaring at the retreating men. Great, he was in a bad mood now. He was still holding unto Seven, the other eerily quiet and was simply looking at him.

“Let’s go somewhere else?” The younger one said, linking his arm around Vanderwood’s and leading him to a different place again. They walked in silence, holding hands and slowly eating their burritos. The brunet was worried what happened earlier might’ve ruined the good atmosphere their date had, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

“You were cool back then~” The red-head grinned back at him, the breeze making his wig flutter around. “Who knew you’d be the jealous type~?” Expect the hacker to start a bantering session.

“So you’d rather have them corner you like that?”

“I could’ve escaped!”

“Uh-huh. Sure. That’ll never happen.”

“Why won’t you believe me?”

“Because I’ll come around and get you out of it again.” Seven’s steps halted as he looked at Vanderwood with wide eyes. The brunet kept walking nonchalantly, taking the last bite of his burrito. He wasn’t expecting to be pulled downwards harshly, lips meeting his in a quick peck. The hacker was grinning and laughing, hugging his arm and the stuffed toy tight. Vanderwood thought he’d never see such a breathtaking sight in his life. He thought wrong.

“That was fun, Mary~” Seven said as they entered the bunker, dumping the bunny on the couch as Vanderwood stood by the door. He had a meeting with the boss in a few minutes, and as much as he’d like to stay longer, this was work. The hacker smiled at him, knowing that he needed to leave immediately. The hacker walked closer and hugged him, the brunet automatically hugging back and kissing the top of his head.

“Stay safe.”

“Of course.”

“Give me a kiss?”

“You already had it earlier.”

“Just one kiss!” Lips puckered once more, Seven tried his best to get the kiss he had been begging for since the start of their date. Wordlessly, Vanderwood gave him what he wanted and more. What he planned to be a short peck turned into a deep, desperate kiss. It always turned out like this before a mission. Fingers ran through his hair as the brunet wrapped his arms around Seven’s waist. He didn’t notice when did he pin the red-head against the wall, as his thoughts were consumed by the way their lips met and molded against each other.

They had to separate to take a breather, and he was rewarded with the sight of a delectable blush all over his lover’s face, ‘more’ whispered again and again. Vanderwood knew he was going to be late, but he couldn’t say no to his lover asking for more. It took them a lot of time to get to where they were right now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.