#woody harrelson x reader

[snowbirdbaird]

Lucy and Snow edit

[cowboyemeritus]

Day 17

Prompt: Knife Play

Pairing: Mary Goore/Reader

Tags: knife play, fear play, blood, brief mention of necrophilia (not serious, just Mary being an edgelord)

Notes: I have a low pain tolerance so this is actually kinda scary to me lol. could not resist using this day for Mary tho. the opportunity was too good.

You know it’s coming. Still, the feeling of cold steel against your neck sends a jolt down your spine. It’s a small blade, but you know that any sharp object is a deadly weapon in his hands. Instinctively, your wrists jerk against the coarse rope binding you to bed frame, the fibers digging into your skin. Mary tuts, pressing his prized pocketknife just a smidge harder into your throat.

“What’d I say about trying to get away, baby?” In a quick motion, so fast it doesn’t register, they flip the knife over, dragging the blunt end across your windpipe. The point catches your skin towards the end of the stroke, just enough to leave a scratch. You gasp, only then realizing it’s a trick. The small prick of pain and the flash of fear has you fluttering around his cock, and he groans, looking rather pleased with himself. “‘M just teasing.” Mary snaps their hips, drawing their fingers in a tight circle around your clit. The stimulation rips a long, airy moan out of you. “I’d never let you go.” He leans down, pressing an oddly gentle kiss to your lips.

“I’d kill you first.”

You whine, thighs squeezing their bony hips. His words are entirely for show, you know this, but the sincerity with which he says them makes it all feel so terrifyingly, erotically real. Mary cackles, relishing in the anguish written across your face.

“Bet you’d make a pretty stiff,” he says, nipping at your earlobe. “Real fuckin’ pretty.”His breath is hot against your skin, smelling faintly of tobacco. You feel the blade drag against your chest, trailing from your collarbone to the swell of your breast. “Can hardly resist you as is. But like that? They had better lock me up.” With a flick of their wrist, the knife slices into your skin. You cry out, your entire body convulsing. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It’s not a deep cut, but ruby beads of blood well up immediately, much to Mary’s delight. A tremor runs through them as they watch you bleed, all the while rutting into you like an animal in heat.

“Mary,” you beg, hips bucking up to met his. “Again.” Already, you can feel your climax drawing near. They laugh once more, rising back up to get a good look at you.

“I always knew you were a little freak, babygirl. First time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one for me.” He considers your body like an artist would a blank canvas, plotting his next move. The blade migrates to your other side, resting just below your breast. “Love you.” Mary drags the sharp edge diagonally across your ribcage, producing a longer, deeper cut. You scream, hot blood pouring out of the wound, running down your side to pool on the plastic sheet below.

“I- Oh, fuck!” Your eyes roll back in your head as your orgasm takes over, the pain and pleasure working in harmony to drag you down. Feeling your pussy spasm around them, Mary moans, fucking you through as much of your climax as they can. Eventually throwing the knife down — dangerously close to your face — they pull out. All it takes is a few quick jerks and he’s shooting all over your stomach and chest, groaning through a bitten lip. A particularly forceful spurt streaks across the cut over your ribs, the fluid stinging as it soaks into the wound. Mary shudders, watching his seed mix with your blood.

“Love you, too,” you pant, feeling wonderfully lightheaded.

[kahlanmars]

BAD FEELING

HELLO! The lack of Haymitch content makes me wanna cry so I decided to step in. English is not my first language so please have mercy ✌️

Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

MASTERLIST

*gif not mine*

1. Bad feeling

Life in District 12 is nowhere to be great, but there are few aspects that make life easier. You can grow plants in the garden, if you have it. People are nice, mostly they threat you with kindness, even Peacekeepers. You are always nice to everyone, and nobody has been a problem. Your adoptive mother, Holly, taught you to stay out of problems and riots and focus to become a great part of the community instead. You are so grateful towards her that you would do anything to make her happy, not to mention it isn’t hard to act kind.

You are quite happy with your life. A part from the fact that you are always hungry - quite a habit, but at the age of twenty four you are strong and ready to work a lot. 

You are a great babysitter for the children of the district, when the mothers have to work after the pregnancy you step in line and take care of their babies. You clean the houses of the Major, of the Peacekeepers and the Victors - which is one, by the way, but always pay in time. You want to become a teacher, but you have to wait a year or so to try the test again. You failed. Yes, big time, big tears, but you got back to work and have faith for the future. 

At the age of 24 you look nice, you think. Raven hair, hazel eyes, not really tall, you are content with your physical aspect. You aren't married, though. You never had any suitors, your family being miners and you being… busy. You are gentle, but never open. To boyfriends, to new possibilities. 

Oh, and you are utterly in love with the kinda-old-man you are working for. But that is just a little detail.

Life in the District is a routine, and you like it.

Yes, you are happy. The kind of happiness who leads you to sing while you are cleaning, at least until your surly boss yells at you to stop.

You were happy. Until you watched the television.

After the 74th edition of the Hunger Games everything changed in the district and, I think, in the Capitol too. For the first time in ages a girl and a boy from our home won, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. And for the first time ever, two kids. They managed to stay alive declaring their love for each other. You were really happy at first, because you have known Katniss and Peeta since they were kids. And for the food they provided with the victory too, you have to be honest. After several months, though, you can sense something is wrong. Everybody, including your boss, is nervous. Well, more nervous and skittish - and drunk -  than usual. Katniss and Peeta are always around Haymitch’s house, never together - which is weird since they are supposed to be a couple - and they talk with a low voice, usually in the garden where the geese are. You stay out of the way, not wanting any of that business. You are here to clean the mess, tidy up the rowdyness he calls home and settle a way of living that’s tolerable. One time you opened the door and Capitol men were there, looking for Haymitch (who was in bed, drunk as hell). They were terrifying, and you practically hide until they were gone. 

It happens in a brief moment. You are cleaning Haymitch’s house, the biggest house you’ve ever seen, and the television is on. It’s almost mandatory to watch the television during programs like these, because Snow wants every citizen to know the news. You expect to see the same statement, like every year. “And so it was decreed that, each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up, in tribute, one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice.”

Not this time, tho. President Snow, seated in his white luxurious chair with his devious blue eyes and white hair, pronounces these words: “This edition of the Hunger Games is the 75th Quarter Quell, a glorified year. For the 75th Hunger Games it is therefore decreed that this year the various districts of Panem will offer up, in tribute, a man and a woman from the age of eighteen to the age of thirty to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol.” 

From 18 to 30. And you are twenty-four. 

You can barely register what you’ve seen that you feel your legs abandoning you, and you faint.

You wake up in someone's arms, confused and horrified.

«Let's get you on the couch, sweetheart.»

Haymitch. You are surprised he is sober enough to acknowledge you are there, even if not enough to catch you before the fall.

You feel so stupid. You fainted. But then again, you were sure you escaped the torture of the Hunger Games the minute you turned nineteen.

He trembles to the couch and you are so grateful for him.

Haymitch Abernathy. The man who pays you to keep his house - his life - in order and clean. The old grumpy man who sometimes makes you laugh, but most of the times shut his door because he’s too drunk to be seen by anyone, let alone a young girl. He’s never violent towards you, but you can see he is very scared of the possibility. 

Six months before you were struggling with your job, wanting something more to feed your family. You were just have been rejected from the teacher test, and very sadly began to ask anyone for work. After two or three men who mentioned in hilarious tones the kind of jobs you definitely didn't want, Haymitch stepped up and just looked at you.

«How do you feel about geese?» Was the only, very odd question.

«They are fine.» You lied. You hated geese, they were filthy animals who liked to bite. But you needed a job that didn't require a lack of clothes.

And it was Haymitch, everybody knew him from the district and even if he wasn’t so beloved he was respected. A victor at fifteen, now forty one, despite his drinking problem made him look older, dark circles under his grey eyes and a weird long haircut for his dirty blonde hair. Still pretty handsome in a rough way, in a very rough way, in a “I need a shower for days and maybe a new shirt” way. 

«Here's the deal: you clean my home, I'll give you money. You stay out of my way, and never wake me when I'm drunk. Understood?And I say that for you. Deal?»

«Yes sir.»

«Deal.»

Six months later you are on his couch, as pale as a ghost.

«Your geese.» you mumble. It doesn't really make sense, but the first thought is that if you are on Capitol and Haymitch is your mentor nobody will feed the birds from hell, as you lovingly call them.

«My what? I'm the one who's drunk, right?» He seems worried, in spite of his inebriation.

«Right.» You agree. You have to adjust a little. Not to mention, he is the one who can give you money, and it’s for the best if you don’t act like you lost your mind. «I was just thinking… I better go. I’ll come back later for the bottles.»

«Darling.» He stops me, just for a brief moment, without smiling. «They won’t pick you.»

You smile right back at him, but you can’t help to have a bad feeling about that.

The day of the reaping you are standing over your bad, unable to put your dress on. You clearly remember the fear of the Games, of the names, of the voice of frickin’ Effie Trinket. You were never paralysed, tho, not like this. Maybe because you were younger and reckless, maybe because something in your head always told you the name wasn’t gonna be you.

Daisy Pinecone. It wasn’t even your real name, Holly just picked it when you were little because it reminded her of a fairytale, and adoptive parents can decide their children’s names. 

“You sound stupid, Daisy. There are a lot of young people in the district, it’s not gonna be you”. You immediately feel guilty about the thought, because even if it’s not you, it’s going to be your friend, colleague or school mate. 

These games are so fucked up. You could never say that out loud, but this is the reality everybody thinks. If only someone could gather them together, maybe… the districts are more than the Capitol City. They provide food, minerals, Panem would starve in a week. 

You shake your head, it’s nonsense. They already tried, and this is the whole point of the Hunger Games, a punishment. But it’s not unfair. 

Holly helps you with the hair, making a simple braid with daisies in it, that you think it’s nearly too in brand for someone who won’t be picked, but you can’t bet against the odds, and in the worst possibility it’s great for publicity. 

Holly is a wreck, but it’s always sad at this time of the year. She’s the midwife of District 12, she knows every child in this place, and every year she watches someone she loves who’s going to get murdered. Something like this led Haymitch to perpetual drunkenness. 

You wish you could say a word to comfort her, but nothing comes out from your mouth. You can’t make promises. You have to thank her for everything, she literally saw you being born and then, when your mother died, she decided to adopt you. 

She pats your shoulder, and you give her a brief smile. 

The street to the place is full of people with nice dresses and a scared expression of their faces. You take your seat, as you realise you have weird thoughts, like that you are grateful because you don’t have a dog that could miss you, or worse, a child. 

Effie Trinket is approaching in a bright pink dress, pink skin and a violet wig, and you almost feel bad for the names you called her during the previous nights. You begin to like Effie, she always smiles at you when she visits Haymitch, unlike the other people from Capitol. And right now you could swear that she’s shaking despite the smile she puts on her face. You saw her with Katniss and Peeta, the way she pats their head and caresses their cheek it’s not faking, she actually cares about them. She may be a brainwashed Capitol starlet, but she is a kind hearted one.

Haymitch arrives, drunker than usual - every year is worse, but this year it’s different, after the awards at Capitol everybody thought he would’ve act presentable - and so Katniss and Peeta. 

Your heart skips a beat. “Your name is there only once”, you keep repeating to yourself.

Effie stays five minutes with her hand in the bowl, reluctant to pick a string of paper. After what it feels to be an eternity, she says a name.

No - not a name. 

Your name.

[whiteoakoak]

Suncoast is soo Good, I cried like a little baby while watching

[royalydamned-archive]

Make Believe - act 1

(Merritt McKinney x Reader)

Summary: The Horsemen's plans are coming together, all according to schedule. One more step remains: taking you out as the possibility of leading the investigation. In order to get to you, one of them has to become your partner for the time being. That being said, Merritt didn't even expect to be part of the equation, let alone your ultimate choice.

-

OR: Merritt pretends to date you. Before knowing how, he starts to believe it's real too.

|AN|: I can't believe people are still reading the first Merritt fic (and so many!!!). I love this guy so much, I just love that lil' something Woody Harrelson adds to his characters, I don't care what anyone else says, it's attractive. Here's to me being THE Merritt writer.

Anyway, this was supposed to be a one-shot, but since I am dumb like this, it will be spread out into a few chapters, but it will allow me to write more parts (and again, make this longer than it needs to be but such is life).

_____________________

These were some of the strangest few weeks in Merritt's life. Undoubtedly not the weirdest but some of the weirdest. Maybe he will end up in prison, maybe he will finally prove something in his life, chances were 50-50. God, who was he kidding? They were likely 97-3, and he was massively fucked.

Well, at least it's going to be fun, right? Gotta go out with a bang.

"The most important part should be in motion." Pretending to be busy, Merritt quickly sat up as he heard Atlas burst through the door, laptop balanced only on his arm, furiously typing with the other. With every step and dab into its keyboard, the laptop swayed on its laughable support, it must have been that real magic they had promised him keeping that thing from crashing down. "Tressler's assistant contacted me about a meeting."

"Is he paying?" the man ignored his remark, unappreciative of the effort to lighten the mood, and rushed past him, already dialing the others. Not that they knew each other well enough, but that guy was a massive dick, that much was clear.

"What are you even doing here? It's a dump."

"It's filled with the warmth of comradeship and our effort, much homier than my apartment," Merritt smirked, watching Atlas run around in a mix of slight panic and thrill of success. "Jesus, Danny, you look so cute wagging your tail like that."

The only answer was to him was a disgusted look. Good enough, he thought to himself.

Daniel's phone rang for a few times, before the distinct sound of a voicemail came through, followed by a groan of frustration. God, if Merritt had known not being here would stress him out like that, he’d go for a nice long walk with a phone turned off – at least a little payback for the bossing around he had to endure from the guy. He wasn’t even aware they had a leader among them, let alone a self-appointed one. Maybe it was time for a mutiny. 

"Henley, come over to the apartment right now, we all need to talk." Canceling the call, Danny carelessly threw the phone on the small table, a bit too far to toss it like that, and ran his hand through his hair. "And where's Jack?"

"You should take a breath Danny-boy," Merritt said, teasingly.

"How about you help out? That would also be great."

"Whoa, I'm sensing hostility. Someone needs to let out some steam. You know I know a great girl you could– "

"I am not listening to that!" Daniel cut him off, already walking the opposite direction, hands thrown in the air.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help," he put his hands up in defense, fighting back a giggle. "It's not like Henley– "

"Henley what?" she asked, coming into the room, two paper cups in hand. She gave Merritt a pointed look, rising an eyebrow as she silently demanded an answer to whatever she had walked on in. If he knew the answer, he would have told her, but he hadn’t been given much to work with.

"Hey–"

"You're late," Daniel snapped, returning to the room, arms resting on his hips, the image reminding Merritt he truly is in their hideout more often than he would have like because somehow, it seemed normal.

“I’m not late, we don’t have a schedule. Here,” Henley handed Merritt one of the cups, on it with a black sharpie and a terrible handwriting was scribbled Baldy.

“Rude,” he complained with a frown to no one but himself as the two had already started arguing, and sat back onto the run-down couch him and Jack brought in last week since they were tired of sitting on the floor. It wasn’t bad, oh who was he lying to, they found it on the street, but at least it wasn’t the floor, despite both Henley and Atlas insisting they’d rather stand the whole time.

“Great, you’re late too!” Danny called out, breaking up the argument briefly when he noticed the youngest member in the doorway, who now stood frozen when all the attention turned to him.

“Sorry, I didn’t know I was supposed to come a specific hour,” Jack said, slowly moving to sit next to Merritt, who was delightfully watching the whole ordeal.

“Nobody did, kid,” he reassured him, receiving a nasty glare from the other.

“Alright, it doesn’t matter. Can we please start.” All four of them looked at each other in silence, and when nobody protested, Danny continued in much calmer manner. “So far, the most difficult part should be over. We have caught Tressler’s eye and if there are no unexpected surprises the Eye have not thought of – which I doubt – the rest of the Horsemen project will go smoothly.”

“That means that’s it, right?” Jack asked. “All we have to do is play along until we can go big enough with our shows.”

“No, absolutely not,” Atlas laughed dryly and grabbed his laptop, typing something furiously while explaining. “We still have to deal with the feds. Fortunately, the plan involves a clear way out with this. Most agents in there are described to be easily tricked with the right strategy and, of course, we have plenty. There’s a file on every single one of the people that might be involved and all of them have a pretty balanced record, some wins, significantly more loses, lucky for us, except one.”

“Perfect score. Might be fun to beat them,” Merritt said, looking around the room for support from the others. None came.

“Not really, we have to take them out of the game.”

“Whoa, hey, when we agreed to do this there was no mention of killing anyone,” Jack blurted out nervously.

“What? No, we’re killing anyone. Jesus. We’re going to make them not want to do the case, voluntarily take themselves out.”

“How would we do that? I suppose blackmail is off the table as well.” Danny shot Merritt an unamused glare and continued as if he hadn’t said anything.

“We need make them personally involved, so, I hope all of you are single, because one of us will date them as long as we need to.”

“How would we even get in contact with them?” Henley asked.

“Stalking, social media, dating sites– “ Merritt started counting on his fingers.

“And we have a general location of the area they live and spend time in. All we need is a few days of closer observation before we can narrow down some kind of a habit. Everybody has one. There, we will meet.”

“So, stalking it is, great choice.”

“What makes you think they even would be interested in any of us, even if we do find them?”

Danny turned the laptop over, showing your file, completed with a picture and general information. “Everybody will have to try, we have four shots at this, which are pretty favorable odds.”

“You guys can rest assured, very few can resist the good old McKinney charm.”

“Yeah, right. I was thinking more like Jack. Realistically speaking.”

As overdramatically as possible, Merritt placed a hand over his heart, faking shock. “You wound me, Daniel. I thought we had something.” The other man simply rolled his eyes, refusing the entertain him in such a situation – any situation, for that matter.  

“We are on the right track, let’s not screw it up with this.”

____________________________

“At least they’re hot,” Merritt stated, sitting tucked away in a booth, close enough to see you, yet far enough to remain hidden. The bar was pretty empty, and they seemed almost over-dressed – some more than others, he thought, watching Danny’s cry for help outfit – but the opportunity had presented itself for them. What was a better time to pick up a stranger sitting alone at the bar than Thursday evening, looking like they had just finished a magic show? Literally.

“Focus,” Atlas snapped, taking out a small stash of notes from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. Not creepy at all. “This has to work, everybody read the cards?”

“The completely legally obtained extremely private information about a person we have been following for the last six days?” Merritt replied, sarcastically, receiving a glare. “Yes, memorized it in a very non-creepy way, in tune with this mission.”

“It’s not a mission.”

“Definitely feels like a mission, no pressure,” he mumbled to himself, stealing a secret glance at you. You were looking at your phone, trying to hide a smile with your hand, half drank glass by your side. Something came across his mind. “Hey guys, what do we do if they’re taken?”

“What?” Danny froze and started flipping through the papers. “No, that would be incorrect, every source says they are single and have not found any close personal connections, of course excluding family.”

“Again, not creepy,” he commented off-handedly. “Have seriously nobody thought of this possibility?”

“Nobody had to think of it because it’s not a factor,” Danny shot back through clenched teeth, his foot under the table tapping in an anxious rhythm. Not so sure, huh? Merritt lifted his arm in defense.

“I guess we will have to trust the Eye. And the wizard behind the curtain. They know what they’re doing,” said Henley in a calm voice, gaze fixated to the spot you were sitting in. “So, who goes first?”

“Jack will,” Daniel replied, leaving to room for others to protest. “It’s our best bet.”

“Put that pretty face to a good use for us Jacky, if this doesn’t go well Danny here might have an aneurism.”

“I won’t– “ he glared at Merritt before taking a deep breath to calm the obvious nerves buzzing under his skin. “Alright, fine. Make fun of me if caring about doing well is so funny.”

“A bit,” Henley interjected, still watching you in case you moved and disappeared from their sight. For a moment, Merritt wondered whether you could feel her intense glare stabbing your back.

“Alright, I’m going.” Slowly, Jack rose from his seat, cringing at the loud sound his chair made when scraping against the floor, and before disappearing, flashed them a reassuring smile.

“God, I remember when I looked like that,” Merritt muttered, watching the kid make his way to you with a confident smile, leaning over the bar by your side and flashed you a charming smile. He said something, a greeting, a pick-up line – not that it mattered when one looked like him – and you smiled back, answering immediately and forgetting whatever it was so engaging on your phone.

“In 1938?”

“Hilarious Danny, has your mother never taught you respect towards your elders?”

“Guys, shut up.” They exchanged a silent look, a challenge neither of them really meant, before dropping it per Henley’s request – well, command really – and turned their focus back towards the bar.

They couldn’t hear you two, it was nothing but a mute movie, leaving them guessing what you’re talking about, whether it’s doing well or…well, how else would it go? Jack had his way with people. Merritt could be the one reading them, controlling them even, but he didn’t have the social talent that just couldn’t be learned. It was natural, came as breathing. Merritt could try and make them laugh, make them uncomfortable and intimidated by his skills to gain the upper hand in the conversation, but sometimes he thought about how it must have been, to enter a room and be instantly liked.

Jack leaned over, getting closer to you, to which you smiled again, telling him something and he acted like he was listening intently, nodding his head with serious expression on his face. Merritt watched you lick your lips, studying his face. How easy was that? A mere few minutes and he had you wrapped around his finger, saving their whole plan – until he wasn’t. Until he understandingly nodded, polite smile still gracing his features, and pushed himself off of the bar, returning back to the remaining three Horsemen waiting for him.

“Wh– Jack what happened?” Daniel asked, confused as Jack finally came close enough to hear them. The younger man only shrugged and took his beer, taking a short sip.

“Wasn’t interested,” he answered simply and slipped back into his seat.

“What do you mean ‘wasn’t interested’ that wasn’t the plan.”

“Hey I did all I could, I can’t force myself on them.”

Danny groaned into the palms of his hands, trying to calm down. It was fine, surely it was fine. Strange, but fine, there were three more people at the table that could try – three more shots at success, but this is not what they had expected. It should have been done instantly, sending their best man for this type of work. If he hadn’t succeeded, there wasn’t too much hope for the others.

“Alright, it’s OK. A slight hitch, nothing we have not encountered or will not encounter along the way yet.” Danny started talking quietly, more to himself than the others, trying to calm all the thoughts and possibilities racing through his head so fast Merritt saw steam coming out of his ears. “Henley, you should try it.”

“What about a please?” she shot back calmly, seemingly enjoying his little breakdown.

“Please, don’t do this right now,” he sighed, his leg under the table speeding up. Merritt took a sip of his drink, trying to hide the grin behind his glass, and watched Henley make her way towards you, un-effortlessly striking up a conversation.

“What was it that got you rejected anyway? Did you say something creepy? Did you slip and tell them their personal detail we so legally obtained?”

“No, they just said I wasn’t their type.”

“Oh, great, so Henley should be ok,” Danny said, suddenly looking relieved, and leaned over the table where you and Henley were already chatting, as if trying to hear your conversation. “Wait, what is she doing?”

“What?” Merritt mumbled, his head snapping towards the pair at the bar. “Oh, she’s leaving too.”

“Fuck,” he said, flipping through his notes once more, eyes scanning the words, trying to find what he had missed. “God, I can’t believe we’re going to fail before we can even execute the plan.”

“Hey, look at it from the bright side, maybe this is the fastest someone had failed trying to get into the Eye,” Merritt grinned and raised his glass, offering Danny a toast, but shrugged and finished the drink on his own when he just sent him an annoyed look. “I mean, we still have two more shots.”

“We are fucked,” Danny murmured under his breath, eyes unfocused, looking at particularly nothing, just the few weeks of their work flashing before them like war flash-backs. “I’ll go now.”

Before Henley could have arrived back to the table, Daniel was already leaving, making his way towards you. With a charming smile, he leaned over the bar, but before he could open his mouth, with a friendly expression, you shook your head, presumably sending him away.

“Oh, ouch,” Merritt winced watching the interaction. “That one had to sting.”

“Eh, he got over worse,” Henley said, sitting down next to him, the glass in her hand refilled. “I take it you’re our last chance?”

“It all comes down to the McKinney charm. Like I said.”

“I don’t doubt its efficiency.” He winked at her as they shared a brief look of amusement before Daniel managed to get to the table.

“I’m going for a smoke first.”

“Are you kidding, everything now depends on you.” Merritt grimaced as he heard Danny’s voice, shouting in a shushed tone, way before he could feel his presence behind him, he was like a walking ball of stress that one could hear vibrating even from a distance. And moved surprisingly very quickly, like a little hamster. 

“I bet that one must have hurt to admit,” he grinned teasingly, and took out a box of cigarettes out of his pocket, waving way too close to the other’s face before his hand got slapped away. “Give me five minutes, I’m sure they need a break too.”

Without waiting for an answer, he pushed past him, away from the overwhelming chatter and into a silent back alley. Nothing but a distant traffic and cold night surrounding him and suddenly, he felt like he could breathe again, every exhale visible in the cool air even before he managed to light one of his cigarettes.

Not even a year ago, he was just one bad evening away from quitting magic all together, losing the passion to the struggle of his everyday life, and to the fact he indeed, didn’t have any money. At all. Who besides middle-aged bored women believed in hypnotism anyway these days? No one. His stream had dried out, days of his glory way in the past and he just seemed like he had no hope, no future.

Barely he managed to blink, he was a part of a straight up insane scheme, one that could only had been set up by a complete madman – or a slightly insane genius – either way, whether the Eye exists or it’s one of the best manipulation tactics he had ever seen, he was well on his way on becoming a criminal for a possibility. Maybe even just an idea.

Maybe, at the end of this all, it would be revealed the Eye is just a concept, the work they have done and the justice – or well, so it appeared – they have brought. With Merritt’s luck, he will end up in jail, the warm feeling of using his “power” for the “greater good” the only thing warming him while he would be sleeping on a metal bench with a shared toilet right next to his head.

The door of the bar opened, and his head turned towards the sudden sound, a lone cigarette he had taken out of the box loosely hanging between his fingers. Before he could register what had happened, before he could he could have caught up on the reality he found himself standing in, one where you walked out the bar door, mumbling something about the weather under your breath as the unfavorable temperature hit you, your eyes landed on him, stopping for a few curious seconds before you slowly approached him.

“Hey, you were with the three others that took turns on me tonight.”

Slightly thrown off, he straightened his posture and fixed his hat. “So you noticed, huh?” he said with a smirk, surprised when you came even closer.

“Was very hard to miss. You had a bet or something?”

“God no, but there was an almost fight about who gets to try their luck first. You know how hard it is to come across good-looking people lately. We are a rare breed.”

You laughed, leaning against the wall next to him, arms crossed over your chest and one leg propped up. “Oh? A humble one, aren’t you?”

He just shrugged, putting the almost forgotten cigarette to his lips and lighting it. After a big drag, he rested his head on the cold brick wall. Watching you from the corner of his eye. In anyone else’s mind, the stars had aligned, the last struck of luck – a destiny maybe, but despite being a magician, Merritt didn’t believe in magic.

“I have to ask though,” you said into the silence, turning your head towards him, studying his profile for a few seconds. He hummed in response, his own head slightly rolling to the side, straining his neck so he could watch you directly. Notice every detail he needed, every slight twitch of a muscle, every time you avoided direct eye contact. He couldn’t forget this wasn’t his everyday life, this wasn’t a fun banter with a hope for a night with a happy ending. This mattered, and even though he would rather lick the inside of Atlas’ mouth than to admit it, it scared him. “Why were you the only one that didn’t come to try?”

“I am trying right now, aren’t I?”

“Are you really?”

“That depends.” Now, he turned his whole body towards you, the shoulder he was leaning his whole weight on suddenly painfully crushed by the wall, but that way, he could see your fully – your form, your face, the subtle gestures of your fingers and the way you stood (leaned) in front of him. “Is it working?”

“And if it is?” you asked, voice low, and Merritt had to look away for a second to fight a smirk.

“Then I’ll have to run back to my colleagues there and gloat a little, I’m afraid.” You laughed again, Merritt found himself enjoying the sound, not many even had such a positive reaction, if any, truly. “But maybe I could invite you somewhere, ideally less cold. With food as a bonus?”

“I’d like that.”

Tags: @wicked1will0sparkles

[80s4life]

Karma’s A Bitch

Word Count: 2,853

Status: Suggested!

Ask: Hey darl! I was wondering (if it’s ok with you) if I would request a Tallahassee x reader fic? The plot can be whatever you like but if you need suggestions it could be about raiding a supermarket (and of course finding twinkies) or picking rooms in the house or something. Anyway I hope your well x

@: a lovely anon!

A/N: OOOOOHHH! We love ourselves a cowboy, don’t we? (Especially when it’s Woody)

Side-Note: There is an outfit idea below with a tag! However, what you want to wear is 100% up to you! All I did was give you an idea (and to boost everyone’s confidence since I believe any body type can pull it off beautifully!)

Fandom: Zombieland

Relationship: Tallahassee x Reader

Summary: Even if the world ends and all else fails, that doesn’t mean there is no light at the end of the tunnel. For example: living in Bill Murray’s mansion, stealing anything and everything you want without consequences, and never having to work or get up at a specific time ever again. However, there are still factors that remain the same: assholes, zombies, and assholes (again for good measure)

Warnings: language, implied smut/sexual allusions, physical fighting, arguing

Masterlist  Zombieland Masterlist

Taglist: @snapessecretdiary @tangledcopperstrands

{I do not own this gif, credits go to -> @veinsandknuckles​}

Kicking around a rusted tin can, you feel the urge to argue; having been so bored and angry for months now causing you to get antsy. “Maybe if your short legs could carry your ass fast enough, we might still have the car,” you smirk, knowing damn well that was going to piss him off.

“Maybe if you weren’t so busy eye-fucking me, we would still have our guns,” Tallahassee seethes, already fed up with your shit.

“Maybe if you weren’t so damn old-” you get cut off.

“I-” Columbus drags loudly, “-don’t suggest you finish that Y/N.”

“Oh no, please Columbus, this has been long overdue,” you glare directly at the back of Tallahassee’s head.

“You better watch it Midget, I’ll fuck you up. There ain’t no law holdin’ me back no more,” Tallahassee warns, but you pay no piece of mind.

“Oh, you’ll fuck me up? That’s rich coming from a miserable old man that ain’t done shit but complain. You just sit there and judge, and bitch, and moan, and groan all. Damn. Day.”

girly to pay attention to anything or even lift a fucking leaf,” Tallahassee heightens his voice to sound more feminine, the act giving way towards the end, going back to his usual raspy tone.

You don’t even know why you’re arguing with him. Maybe because it’s been so long since you’ve been able to relax, or get enough sleep, or have late night outs, or normal shit young horny people used to do in their 20s.

“I help out here more than you do! Fuck, I mean, I’ve gotten Columbus out of harms way more times than you have. Hell, I even saved your ass more times than I could count!”

“Oh you Bitch!” Tallahassee jumps at you.

You don’t hold back either, lunging for him as he tackles you to the ground, wrestling like children. Rolling around across the concrete of the old, cracked street. At some point, you think you have the upper hand, smirking at Columbus over your shoulder. Then, Tallahassee takes advantage, spinning you around, which causes you to smash your head into the ground.

“Ow!” you scream, reaching for his neck in a rage.

He blocks the attempt, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head, his legs straddling your hips. Face red with anger, you struggle underneath his strength, unintentional heat thrumming in your core. 

“Get the fuck off me, Tallahassee!”

“Not ‘til you call ‘Uncle.’”

“I ain’t callin’ shit!”

“Then I guess we’re stuck here.”

“Guys!” Columbus yells, but you pay no mind, managing to knee Tallahassee in the balls as his head leers in the direction of the scream. Groaning, he lets go in enough time for you to wiggle free, about to tackle him again. 

Columbus, with his eyes peering off in the distance, “Guys! It’s our stuff! It’s the girls! Come on!” 

Giving Tallahassee the stink eye, he reciprocates the gesture, but otherwise you both let up with aggravated huffs. “I’ll show you helpful, Dickhead,” you mutter loud enough for him to hear, running ahead of the group to sneak back up to a seemingly useful parked truck, the engine rumbling calmly in the distance.

Tallahassee follows closely behind, panting as he crouches beside you.

“Don’t have a heart attack on me now, I don’t feel like reviving your ass through CPR or some shit.”

“First off, fuck you. Second off, fuck you twice.”

“Ooooh, good one,” you giggle, turning back around and feeling the ghost of his breath fan against your neck, his body hovering just behind yours to catch sight of what you are looking at. You shiver unconsciously, missing the sensation. 

Ignoring your tumbling thoughts, you motion for Tallahassee to go around the other side as you close in on the car. Nodding, he does as follows luckily and to your amazement. Making your way over to the front of the truck you whisper and count to three, jumping up with slight yells to see who’s in the car. Catching sight of nothing, you almost jump out of your skin when your hear another voice.

“It’s about time you guys showed up, we were about ready to just leave your asses down the street,” states Little Rock, shotgun in hand.

Wichita makes her way out of the apartment complex next, smirking devilishly as she catches sight of a confused Tallahassee. You smile too once you catch him slipping up.

“Shut up.”

“That’s all you got?” you laugh.

“Oh, give me a break, will ya?” Tallahassee groans again, peering at you desperately.

“Come on, there’s some nice houses in Beverly Hills. It’s not too far from here,” Wichita states boredly, placing her shotgun in the driver’s seat through the window while pulling out the car keys from underneath the front wheel.

“So we're a team again?” you ask exasperatedly, slightly taken aback.

She, in turn, doesn’t give you a reply, unlocking the car door and turning the ignition, “Get in,” she grits.

Snorting in disgust, you look over at Tallahassee, he seemingly having already been staring at you. You gesture in her general direction, and with a simple once over, he points to the back seat. Face dropping, you look him dead in the eyes before grabbing the door handle, only for Wichita to lock it.

“No, you two get in the back. I’m not going to listen to you two bitch.”

“Like putting us together is gonna do any good?” Tallahassee scrunches his nose.

“Listen, I don’t fucking like you too much Old Man, so get in the back before I leave you here.”

Flipping her off just in the right direction for her to catch you in the left-side mirror, you mouth ‘fuck you’ before not so gracefully hopping on the truck bed.

Columbus, after watching from afar and doing a series of stretches, jogs over and steals the passenger seat, which Wichita allows. Tallahassee and you quickly take notice to the freedom, but otherwise ignore her. For now. Little Rock sidles into the backseat with a huff, and then lays a possessive hand over the guns laced there, having scored quite a hefty amount in the neighborhood.

///

The car ride was mostly silent, somehow actually getting into a comfortable conversation with Tallahassee. He really wasn’t a bad guy once he let his ego slip, giving way to the real boy underneath. If you were going to admit one thing to yourself, it was that Tallahassee was, in fact, hot as hell, but otherwise, so was his aura, voice, demeanor, and personality. It was quite the confusing mix of emotions the man elicits, especially once you forget about him as a person and remember his bitchy and childish attitude when something he doesn’t like happens.

Jumping off the truck, Wichita makes sure that your finger was returned, an added sway in her hips as she steps directly in front of you, up to the front door.

“I’m tellin’ everyone right now, if you see me go feral on her ass, no one be surprised. I ain’t gonna put up with this ignorant behavior and using us kinda shit. You got that, Wichita?” you state, heat trickling up to your face as anger threatens to overrule her self righteous ass.

Nodding weakly, you quickly see her pissed expression soften. Perhaps she’s realized her ways and put herself in my shoes?

“Ya know, your kinda sexy when your angry,” Tallahassee giggles, whispering in your ear so no one else could hear his attempts, the scruff of his chin lightly poking at your ear lobe. Another shiver brings a coat of goosebumps up to your skin as your choice of words are quickly lost on you.

“Let’s look around,” Columbus says, having walked around some of the grand rooms at the entrance of the mansion you’d wandered into, and you almost wanted to thank him. 

The mansion was beautiful despite the current environment and “living” organisms roaming the world currently. Breaking off into groups, Columbus and Little Rock walk around the first floor, Wichita walking around the opposite end of the younger two. Tallahassee started walking behind Wichita, but realizing your presence wasn’t sensed, he turned around to see you walking straight up to the second floor.

“Hey! Hey, wait Y/N!” he calls, jogging up the flight of stairs to you. “What’cha up to?”

“Well, Nosey, I was gonna go pick my bed before the Princess snatches the sweet. It’s Bill Murray’s place after all, and I want the best room in the house before I get stuck with a shitty ass mattress. I deserve it.”

“Well, in that case, so am I. If you think I’m gonna sleep on the couch, you best be mistaken.”

“Whatever Tallahassee,” you mutter, smirking as you could see through his cover-up, leaving the conversation for another time.

Catching sight of the very obvious Master Bedroom, you have a split second to glance at Tallahassee before he’s ttrying to shove you out of the way. Easily, you gather yourself back up and go to push him over this time, and with success, he grabs your ankles to pull you down with him. “Dammit!” you grunt, trying to kick at him as he pulls you towards his body on the floor. “C’mon Tallahassee!”

“I ain’t lettin’ you get it that easily, you call dibs like a proper adult!” he states, pulling your body flush underneath his chest, back squished against the floor as he uses you as padding on his stomach.

“This is childish!” you scream in aggravation, pushing at his face as he threatens to crush you.

“What’s childish is not letting the mature adults have the most comfort!” he is temporarily blinded by your insistent hands.

“Why? So you could die quicker and leave the younger people to sleep painfully as we do the work for you?”

“Oh would you quick pickin’ on my age?! I ain’t that old and still limber enough to bash your ass!”

Heat pools at you inner areas again, causing a blush to quickly flush up at your cheeks. Coughing in an attempt to clear your thoughts, Tallahassee takes the unintentional distraction as an advantage, pushing you on the ground and keeping you there until he is back on his feet and running away.

Scrambling back to your feet, you run after him again, but it’s too late. He’s already opened the door, and made a show at flopping on the bed as you reach the entrance. Groaning, you almost cry in frustration, looking him dead in the eye with his smug grin.

“I win.”

“Yeah... You win,” you say, turning back around and closing the door lightly, not rising any suspicion. If you would’ve slammed it, he would’ve chased back after you, and all you wanted to do was be alone.

Moping around, you find another room, not entirely as huge as Murray’s room, but it was quite spacious, earning you somewhat of a grateful smile as you drop your bag. Exhausted, you allow yourself the reward of kicking off your tennis sneakers, checking some drawers and scoring pajamas. 

With your luck finally turning up, you giggle and jump around just a little bit, pulling out comfy shorts with an adjustable tie and pockets, clean underwear, a sports bra that was just about your size, and a breezy tank top that was open at the sides; the outfit overall providing comfort and a breeziness under the hot California sun. (x)

Placing the outfit on the bed and continuing to mosey about, you spot a Walkman, a choice of gold plated headphones and earbuds, and score your own private bathroom. Smiling happily now, you turn the shower handle to check, hot water pouring out of the shower head and cascading onto the huge granite tub. Taking your time, you take a long, hot shower, basking in a long awaited cleansing with your earbuds in.

After what felt like years, your skin was beat red and warm, fingers shriveled from the moisture and condensation floating about in the bathroom. It had been so long since you were able to enjoy little things like these; being able to just live.

Humming to yourself, you mutter the words to the old rock song as you play around with your hair, placing it into whatever was the most comfortable now that it was clean and somewhat manageable. Caught up with the newest rhythm, you miss the presence of someone other than your own, turning away from the bedroom door in order to strip your towel and gather your undergarments. Pulling on your underwear, you pull the bra over your head, slip your arms through, and then adjust your shorts around your hips.

Finally turning around, you flinch so hard, blood running cold, and eliciting an ear shattering scream. “Tallahassee! You- You- Get out!”

Tallahassee, still dumbfounded, stares in awe before a startled smirk adds to his face, laughing harshly as he lets himself out slowly, stealing one last glance before closing the door with a soft click. 

Your heartbeat pumps loudly in your ears, shock still causing you to stand stock-still for another 10 minutes. Easing out of your embarrassment “gracefully,” you hurriedly pull on your shirt before begrudgingly opening the door back up again. There, Tallahassee stands with his legs crossed, arms folded, leaning up against the copper rails in the hallway just across your room.

Smirking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, Tallahassee acts as if nothing happened, “I just wanted to swing by and ask you how you’re settling in.”

“S-So you were worried about me?” you smirk, still flaring with a beat red face full of regret and stupidity.

“Something like that,” Tallahassee admits, letting his focus shift to your clothes, absentmindedly licking his lips on occasion.

“Like what you see?” you giggle, crossing your arms as he straightens back up on his feet.

“Yes, actually, I do, but that’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here, T?”

“I gotta ask you somethin’... Why...” he clears his throat, “Why d’ya hate me?” he finishes the question, looking at his feet for distraction.

You sigh, “I don’t hate you Tallahassee, you hate me. The only thing I dislike is your ego, kind of.”

“I never hated you, Kid, I just didn’t know how to properly live with a young broad like you. And, what did you mean ‘Kind of?’”

“Well, your ego both frustrates and attracts me, to say the least. Your not a total Dickhead,” you smile, “What did you mean by ‘Young broad like yourself?’”

Edging closer to you, Tallahassee breath fans your face, calloused hands coming to rest on your bare hips. “What I meant was a strong, independent woman that constantly makes me run for my money and keeps me hoping for a better future.”

“So...What you’re saying is that you like me just a little bit,” you beam.

“Maybe just a little bit,” Tallahassee chuckles, pulling your body closer, “Do ya like me a little bit?”

“Hell yeah,” you pull him closer to you, closing the gap between yourselves, attaching your lips to his.

Eagerly, he kisses you back fully, hands going up to cup the base of your skull, groaning into the kiss as he tries to gather you up in his arms, not wanting you to separate from him. Passionately, you pull him closer, subconsciously grinding with extra friction. 

 Apparently, with your mouths and bodies preoccupied, you miss just how loud you were becoming, still in the nakedness of the outside world. Your attention finally refocuses with loud gagging noises and a shrill shriek. Columbus quickly covers his mouth, embarrassing himself in front of everyone, avoiding eye contact with Wichita. 

Little Rock, unfazed by the projection of intimacy, she bluntly states, “If you guys want to fuck, do it in private! No one gives a shit what you do, just do it away from everyone else!” she bellows from the foyer.

“And quietly!” Wichita adds with a playful smile, waving you off as she goes back to the indoor theater, bucket of popcorn in hand.

Columbus and Little Rock follow her in tow quickly, leaving you to your own activities. Chuckling again, Tallahassee looks down at you with a naughty swirl in his clear ocean blues, “I’ll show you old, Babygirl.” Without another word, he hefts you up and unto his hips, your legs locking just above his ass, and leading you into your bedroom. With a loud slam and a small click of the lock, he throws you onto your bed. I guess the guest bedroom was better than Bill Murray’s.

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS DNI

PLZ HAVE YOUR AGE IN BIO BEFORE FOLLOWING

YOU WILL BE BLOCKED OTHERWISE

warnings: language, talk of zombie killing, zombies

AN: so basically neither gif has any connection to what I wrote but woody harrelson looks hot in both so fuck it.

“All clear!” Little Rock called out. I pushed off the Cadillac and hitched the backpack back up my shoulder. Tallahassee put his duffle in my outstretched hand and I threw that over my other shoulder.

“So you gonna tell me whose house this is?” I asked as we walked up the stairs, columbus’s bag over Tallahassee’s shoulder and witchita’s in his hand. He laughed as we entered the house.

“take a look around and see sweetheart. It shouldn’t be too difficult to figure it out.” I rolled my eyes as I dropped his duffle in the doorway.

“fine be that way Florida.” I turned left and started to explore. It was ten minutes before I found the stairs. Little Rock looked up from the book she had found. “You guys pick your rooms yet?” She shook her head.

“I haven’t. I don’t know about the lover birds. Or if Tallahassee found anything yet.” I nodded before mounting the stairs.

”thanks.”

“By the way, if you find any games bring them down! It’s going to be a long night!” I laughed at Little Rock’s enthusiasm. I started walking around the second level and quickly found the master bedroom. Steeling my nerves, I knocked on the door before pushing it open. I let out the air I was holding. Being with a couple and a man who was more akin to Hugh Hefner than anyone else made you cautious before barging into rooms.

“thank god.” I muttered before tossing my bag on the bed. I closed the door and turned towards the window. There was a window seat and a side table. I sat down and started looking through the knickknacks next to me. As I looked through them my eyes widened. Standing up quickly, the table nearly crashed to the floor. “TALLAHASSEE!” I cried out as I ran out of the room. “TALLAHASSEE!“

”(Y/N)! Be quiet!” Columbus appeared out of nowhere. “You don’t know where the…”

”Oh shut up Columbus! TALLAHASSEE!” I pushed the scrawny nerd out of the way and took off for the stairs. Witchita laughed as I leaned over the railing and continued to call for the leader of our little gang.

“what?” Tallahassee appeared from the dining room, looking up at me. A smile spread across my face as I looked down at him. He smirked back at me before mounting the stairs. “Oh I see. You figured out whose house this is.” I started to laugh as I started backing up towards the master bedroom. “So tell sweetheart. Who lived here?” I laughed as tallahassee jokingly tried to grab me. I quickly hopped back and turned to run back into my room. “What? Now you aren’t going to tell me? Is this payback?”

”Tommy fucking Lee!” I giggled as I collapsed on the bed. Tallahassee laughed as he joined me and held his arm out so I could curl up on him if I chose. “one of the coolest drummers in all of history! Of the one and only motley fucking Crue!” I rolled Over and out my head on his chest. “Thank you.” Tallahassee kissed my temple and rubbed my back.

“No problem.“ he tucked me into his side more and we settled into silence. “I’d heard it was empty. Los Angeles is nearly cleared out of zombies. Of course that doesn’t mean a hell of a lot with mutations and just regular spreading but we’ve been a fairly good clean up crew. And all things considered, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad of an idea to stick around.” I looked up at him. “Columbus and witchita have been talking about moving on. Settling down. Even if it’s just us and Little Rock it couldn’t be that bad. She’s almost our kid anyway. And what better place to go than somewhere that would make you happy.“ I smiled as I listened to him talk. “Life’s been rough and maybe we don’t exactly deserve the good weve had Especially recently but in the end,” he looked down at me and smiled. “It’s the holidays and I’m feeling romantic so how about we finally settle down and spend the rest of our lives together.” I sat up and looked down at him.

“Tallahassee are you asking me to marry you?” He nodded. “In Tommy lees bed?” He nodded again. “And stay in this house?“ Tallahassee sat up and smiled as everything started to click. “Fuck yes!” I threw myself at him. We laughed before settling down and just enjoying the moment. “When do we tell them?” Tallahassee shrugged.

“whenever you want.“ his fingers traced unconnected patterns into my back. “Sorry about the lack of a ring. I’ll get one first chance I get. You deserve it.“ I pressed a kiss to his collarbone.

“doesn’t matter much. Just need you.” I mumbled before the week of chaos caught up to us both and we drifted off.

[countrymusiclover]

18 - My First Games

Part 19

Victor's Daughter

@lemonluvgirl87 @virtualsweetsdreamer

I didn't get much sleep last night. I'm not sure anyone ever does when you might be going into your possible death. Sitting up in the bed my hair is a knotted mess as I bury face in my knees. I can see why Prim got nightmares about her name getting picked. But the scary part is I'm about to know the paironia my father suffers through. Three knocks on the door breaks me from my trance seeing my father come in wearing a grey long sleeve shirt and some black pants. His short hair is a shaggy mess with terror written in his eyes as he stares directly at me. We share the same expression on our faces. He plopped down on the bed pulling me into his chest, hugging onto me for dear life. Throwing my arms around his neck I let myself cry into his shoulder, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

"I don't - I don't wanna go!" I mumbled into his tear stained shirt smelling alcohol in his breath. He most likely got so drunk that he passed out last night. "I know baby girl. If I could keep you here I would." He runs his freehand through my hair, pulling away and wiping my tears with his sleeve. He reaches into his pocket unfolding a piece of paper, his voice cracking aa he spoke. "This is - uh from your mother. She left us each a letter- in case she..." I rest my head on his shoulder not needing to hear more of an explanation so he just started reading it aloud for me. "Dear my beautiful son or daughter, if you're reading this then it means I am not with you. I may have not got to watch you grow up but I had high hopes that you would be as strong as your father. I instructed him to watch over you and give the love of two parents instead of just one. This world we live in is dangerous and scary. But I believe you will be tougher than everyone else thinks you shall be. I love you, your mother Maya."

It warmed my heart to know that she thought I was going to be brave even though she didn't know me. A couple hours later peacekeepers escorted me downstairs. One hands me a suit to wear in the games. It looks completely different than the ones in the 74th Hunger Games. It's like made for water or something. Most likely tropical matching my father's game arena. Tying my hair into pigtail braids I run my hands down my sides until a computer voice boomed through the room. "Tributes head for the tubes." Sucking a lump in my throat peacekeepers escorted me downstairs once more. A woman stands in the doorway with an instrument asking for my arm as the men leave. "Give me your arm please?" Slowly raising my right arm she sticks a needle shooting something into it. I winced eyeing her nervously. "That's the tracker." She nodded pushing me into a small room seeing Celestia standing in front of the tube. She twisted the fabric of her shirt wearing her hair in a braid looking like Katniss. It has become a new obsession for most of the young girls.

"I didn't think I would see you again in this situation, Celestia." I breathed out watching her step up to me. She's gotten taller than the last time I saw her. She twisted her boot into the metal floor reaching down and revealing a knife from inside her boot. A knife that couldn't be any bigger than the tiny training daggers. "This is from your father. He couldn't come see you so he sent me instead. He sent me a message to give you before you go..." She trailed off slipping the blade into the hidden waste band of the suit. "Use this when you're alone and remove the tracker." Raising my brows at her I don't understand what she's going with this. "Celestia..." She raised her hand cutting me off giving me a stern look on her face. "There's not much time Y/n. Just know that when you're given the opportunity can you come rescue me."

The teck voice spoke through the speaker again making us both jump apart a little. Whipping my head up I get a nervous feeling in my gut, eyeing the tube. Once I step inside there's no going back. I shall be going to my possible death and it all depends on me. How well I'm good at killing people. "Ten seconds!" Celestia rushed forward wrapping her arms around me. I stiffened my back unsure at first but I slowly hugged her back. Resting my chin on her head picturing that I am hugging Prim, she always calmed me down when I was nervous. Finally we pulled apart and I slowly stepped into the tube seeing the glass slide closed. Celestia spun on her feet pressing her hand to the glass holding the three fingers up to me. "I don't want to be a Capital girl anymore. You're father works with the resistance and I'll join you soon enough." The tube starts to rise as I try to register what she just said. My heart beats faster in my chest getting blinded by the sun taking a minute to let my eyes adjust. All the tributes are on pedestals in a circle with the whole Cornucopia surrounded by water. There's a little gap we have to swim from here to the platform. "Let the 75th Hunger Games begin. May the odds be ever in your favor. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!" An announcer's voice booms through the arena and I don't dare pause, diving into the water remembering what my father told me. Don't get distracted by the scenery.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[violentvaleska]

𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚

ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴄʟᴇᴛᴜs ᴋᴀsᴀᴅʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴄᴀʀɴᴀɢᴇ ɪs ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ sᴘʀᴇᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ғɪɴᴅs ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ɢɪʀʟ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴀʟʟᴇʏ ᴡᴀʏ. ʜᴇʀ sᴄᴇɴᴛ ɪs sᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴄʜᴇʀʀʏ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, sᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴsɪᴏɴ, sᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ɢᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ, ᴄᴀʀɴᴀɢᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴀʀɴᴀɢᴇ

ᴀ/ɴ: ᴅᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴄʟᴇᴛᴜs ᴋᴀsᴀᴅʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏᴏ. ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴏғ ᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴛᴏʀ ғᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ ᴍᴏɴᴀɢʜᴀɴ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪs ᴄᴀɴ ᴀʟsᴏ ʙᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴡᴏᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀʀʀᴇʟsᴏɴ! ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ.

@thelovethatgrowss ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ᴘᴏsᴛs, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴄʟᴇᴛᴜs/ ᴄᴀʀɴᴀɢᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ...ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ^-^

New York is dirty, filthy. Some streets smell rotten, others like death. While there might be some beautiful neighborhoods like Manhattan or Greenwich Village, there are others as well. Harlem for example, South Bronx or Brownsville. 

(Y/N) is all too familiar with the later one. It is considered as one of the poorest neighborhoods in New York City and has the highest murder rate. Nice. 

This might be the fault of gang criminality, homicide, and the newest addition: symbiotes. The creature known as Carnage originally started its chaos and slaughters in San Francisco, but it apparently found its way to New York City. Carnage is a symbiote, an alien created by the Venom symbiote. Venom came from a planet, (Y/N) doesn't know the name of right now. This creature’s bond with a human or animal, taking them as their host. In Carnages case it was Cletus Kasady who he bonded with. A mass murderer, whose number of victims are still rising. Just recently they found the body of a young woman, strangled, stabbed and chopped into pieces. She was murdered around five years ago. 

It only makes sense for a blood lusting creature like Carnage to choose a host like Kasady. They just fit perfectly together. 

The young woman, (Y/N), isn't exactly thrilled about it. She works in a coffee shop and often comes home late. For normal her male coworker and best friend Travis would accompany her on her way home, because he lives just a few minutes away from her, but not today. Travis called in sick, so (Y/N) must walk home all alone. It's dangerous, especially for woman like her. Young, beautiful and alone. An easy prey some might say. It's why she is so scared of being alone outside

 For about now she takes her time to clean up the small coffee shop, humming to a song that's been in her head all day. She needs some good vibes if she wants to leave on her own. It probably won't happen anything to her anyways, it's not a long walk to her apartment building. She can survive 10 minutes in the dark, it's fine. While doing the dishes, a weird and nasty feeling overcomes her. Looking around, she turns to the big front glass of the shop, looking into the dark street of the city. At first, she didn't see anything, but then she notices the man standing on the other side of the street, staring right at her. A cold shower runs over her shoulders and she swallows down a nod in her throat. As the man races a hand and starts to wave at her, a feeling of confusion builds up in her. Maybe they know each other? Unsure of what to do, she simply waves back, but a bus driving by, blocks her vision. She patiently waits for it to disappear down the road, but when it does the strange man is already gone. Which is weird and creepy but doesn't have to mean anything. At least that's what she hopes. Shaking her head, (Y/N) takes care of the rest of the shop, making it ready for tomorrow morning. It's a normal Friday night, if it wasn't for her being alone and after that creep waved at her, she isn't quite sure if it really is a "normal" Friday night. 

  Turning off the light in the Coffee Shop, the young woman sneaks under the slit of the metal shutters and closes them with the key. She is the shop Manager after all, it's her duty to guarantee the shop's safety. Rubbing her tired eyes, she leaves and walks down the main road. The dark and cloudy sky is making her feel uncomfortable, especially the cold air that hits her skin. It's November and the dusty air turns into a freezing breeze. The little clouds of air drift from her breathing mouth and mix themselves with dust and dirty wind. It's distracting to look at, especially if you have the feeling to be followed, like (Y/N) has. But whenever she turns around, there is not a single soul. The sickening feeling in her gut won't go away, as she presses her purse tightly onto her body and quickly speeds down the wet street. It must have rained a little over an hour ago. 

 The gal doesn't look back anymore and she approaches the alley way to her right. It might be a dumb idea, but she wants to get home faster and what other options does she has left? Walking around the block would take too long. She rushes through the unlighted alley, her shadow mixing with the darkness and swallows it. Her breath is a little bit shaky when she hears a terrible unidentifiable noise. It's like an animal in pain or rage, hard to say. Its growling is deep but sounds so foreign at the same time. She slowly turns around and notices some slender figure hovering in the shadows, big white eyes watching her desperately. Her body is frozen in shock, her heart beats faster. Her instincts tell her to run and run she does. The creature is faster though. It lets out a shrill laugh, cackling at her attempts to run from him. The girl tries to breathe as even as possible but fails when she slips on the wet stone. Her fragile body crashes onto the floor, ripping open her pants and skin. She tries to stand up, but the creature quickly catches her, shoving her against a cold brick stone wall. A horrified gasp escapes her, as the symbiote pushes her body against the wall with his blood red tendrils. She can't feel them on her skin, because of the fabric that separates them, but she is still able to tell that they have a strange texture. Plus they are strong, cutting off her blood. 

 "Booo-" It runts in its husky and deep voice. Shocked (Y/N) closes her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. 

"What is a sweety like you doing here all alone?" It wonders and softly touches her cheek with his clawed hands. A terrified cry escapes her, as she turns her head away from his sharp claws, hoping he would just leave her alone. 

"Naw, don't make it harder for yourself pretty thing." They taunt, holding her head in place instead. Their tight grip bruises her body. He could just snap her in half. 

"Tell me sugar. Are you scared?" Nodding, she whimpers as she feels his hand and tendrils closing up around her face and limbs. A whimper escapes her, making him groan in adornment and approvement. She doesn't seem to be his kind of woman: too scared, too naïve, too innocent. 

"Yes." She breathes out, trying to collect her strength. The symbiote doesn't notice, still feeding on her fear. (Y/N) needs them to change back into their host. She could hurt him better that way. 

"Don't be darling. I won't kill you." A different voice speaks this time. It's when the girl turns her head, that she notices the handsome face of a man. It's Cletus Kasady, the symbiotes host. However, some parts of him are still surrounded by the red and slightly black mass. The tendrils of his back don't move an inch from her body, keeping her in place. 

"You smell like sugar." He notices, burying his head in the area where her neck meats her shoulder, taking in her sweet scent. 

"Don't be so quite sugar cup, I like them screaming." A bright and sadistic grin coats his lips, showing off his playful persona. His red curls fall gracefully onto his forehead, making his greenish eyes appear sinister. He is a creep, a murderous, but handsome creep. Looking him up and down, she notices something important for her next move. While his legs are hugged from the symbiote, his upper body and crotch are free. With a swift motion she heaves her leg, letting it crush into his soft parts. His tendrils cringe and let go off her, making her fall onto the raw asphalt. She hears the man growl in disapproval, as he takes a few steps back. He on the other hand, touches the parts she hurt.

 "Oh, I like you." He admits breathing erratic, as he slowly rises into a standing position again. The girl makes a run for it. 

 "Ah, you already leaving, doll? The party didn't even start yet!" He shouts after the young woman, catching her in the process. She might be a slick fighter, but not a smart one. She struggles against his red tendrils, trying to kick him in the guts this time. He easily doges it, causing her more pain. It's useless. 

"My, my- we've got ourselves a little fighter, ay?" His anticipations glare dives into her divine expression of fear and panic.

"Can I eat her?" The carnage symbiote asks it's host out loud, making the girl shiver with panic. She doesn't want to die yet. 

"No Red, we are going to play with her a little." The mocking voice of Kasady argues, his hands hold a tight grip, making her skin feel raw and wounded. Her wrists are swollen and feel numb from pain. 

"Would you like that, sweet cheeks?" 

"Fuck you." She finally has the courage to speak. The man just annoys her. 

"If you'd do it, with pleasure." A laugh escapes him, as the bitch spits in his face. She might not be scared of him, but what about his little friend? Carnage giggles in the back of his head, as he comes back onto the surface, cowering his host like a suit.

"Look babe. Cletus doesn't want to kill you, you are fun." The creature grins childishly, petting her head affectionate.

"I never gave you this promise." He explains and opens his wight mouth, revealing his long tongue. Her body stiffens and tenses up as a scream escapes her throat. She closes her eyes, as she feels the breath of the hungry beats, its tongue licking up her neck. It's disgusting. 

"You taste delicious. Sweet like candy." The beast notices, turning its head to the side, grinning hungrily.

"I wonder what your blood and flesh taste like." 

  The pained screams of a woman fill the silence of the evening, exposing a situation to the dark, that happens quite so often in New York. The girl falls onto her knees, a gushing wound over her breast, blood spills over her body. The red symbiote shrinks back into the body of a man with red hair. He softly smiles, as he shakes his head and looks down onto the beautiful hurt and crying girl. 

"You taste like cherries." He notices, liking his lips as he kneels down in front of her, petting her head. 

"Red loves that, I do too." Kasady admits, brushing over her soft hair. 

"Would you like to come with me? Have some fun?" Cletus has never been a womanizer. He doesn't quite get why she shakes her head, denying his blunt offer. 

"Naw, but I want to play doll." He huffs like a little boy, pulling on her hair a little.

"Please? We aren't going to kill you, pinky promise!" His shrill and cheerful voice scares her into submission, his persuasive look in his eyes doesn't help.

"What kind of fun?" (Y/N) asks, shaking as she closes the open wound with her small hand. At least small compared to his. He claps them together, enjoying her reaction after the loud sound. 

"Goody. We could play cat and mouse? Hide and seek? Or you just blow me, I wouldn't mind." 

"Sick fuck." 

"What was that?" His happy expression changes rapidly.

"I'm not gonna blow you, you sick fuck!" Kasady reaches for her neck, suffocating her. 

"I like you, sweets." He groans pulling her closer to him. 

"You taste and smell so good." She tries to catch some air, but he makes it nearly impossible for her to do so. 

"I won't force you to do so doll, no, no. But I will convince you, promises." 

 Softly he kisses her cheek, letting go of her. (Y/N) takes in a deep breath and lets the cold air cool her burning and raw lungs. She collapses to the floor in front of Cletus, looking up at him. 

"I'll remember you, princess." He whispers taking her chin into his hand. 

"And I'll find you and hunt you down." He laughs, giggling into the night, as he leaves the traumatized girl behind. 

She is shocked, but oddly happy at the same time. He spared her. He really spared her because he likes her. Then again, he said that he will hunt her down. 

Confused (Y/N) stands up and walks through the alley with shaking legs. She isn't quite sure what he would do now. He doesn't want to kill, eat or rape her. No, Cletus Kasady and his symbiote want to play a game. 

 And just maybe she would agree to play with them.

[pinkykitten]

What if?

Hunger Games

Haymitch Abernathy x female! reader

Warning: curse words, haymitch kinda being a lil horn dog

Specifics: comedy, romance, angst, one-shot, prompts, pics, race neutral reader 

People: haymitch abernathy, president snow

Words: 1,427

Requested: By anon Hello, could you please write something about Haymitch x reader (Hunger Games) ? They're both former winners for their respective districts, longtime friends and they’ve feelings for each other but have never dared to confess anything to the other, with prompt #1: “how much did you drink?”, prompt #11: "you owe me a kiss." and prompt #21: "you’re not very intimidating." Thank you !

Prompts:

1 -  “how much did you drink?”

11 -  “you owe me a kiss.”

21 -  “you’re not very intimidating.”

Authors Note: ooooooooh i love how this one turned out! usually i hate my crappy writing but idk maybe i was overly inspired and i feel this came out actually pretty good imnotgonnalie!!! anywho i feel tho that this love story aint that rlly finished...i might IF YA GIRL GOT TIME i might write a second part to this idk i just IDK I REALLY FRICKIN LOVE THIS!!! i hope u guys do and thnx anon for request and if u guys ever want me to tag u...u know where to find me

You gathered your things, checking your attire as you stepped in front of a mirror. 

“I hate these things,” you muttered to yourself as you added the finishing touches to your makeup. You were on your way to a gathering, a party, where it was for the new tributes to the Hunger Games. 

Did you want to be there? No.

Did you have to be there? Yes.

You were a fierce mentor for your district. You had to show up, it was needed for the place you were in. People had to see that your district was trying. 

As you went over there you saw the invitation. Written in beautiful writing but smelling of a terrible, pungent odor you recognized it as President Snow’s scent. 

“Awful smell,” you covered your nose, throwing your invitation in your purse you stared longingly at the window. This will be another time where you would have to be face to face with Haymitch. You two started off as rivals but then eventually turned into longtime good friends. A point in time when you were maturing you two fell out of communication until recently you and Haymitch got back together as if there were never a space between you two. As if there never was a time when you two didn't see each other, it was like old times. Upon seeing him again however sparked something within that didn’t spark when you used to see him when you were younger. He age like fine wine. Becoming more gruff and tough than his youthful days, always leaning towards alcohol. 

Why did you have to see him again? You were fine all those years but now you yearned for something stronger. You yearned to see him daily, to express your feelings to him finally, you just wanted him to know the truth before it was too late. You were for once in your life terrified. You’ve been through the Hunger games, yet love scared you more than death. 

You arrived and stepped into the building. There were some old faces and some new but most of the people there were all fake. They wore a mask, a facade to agree with the Capital. You were not about that lifestyle. You believed everyone was entitled to their own opinion, they deserved a voice, a say. 

You were alone admiring the decor, noticing a few things here and there, like the way the glitter sparkled when the light hit it, or how the light blonde hair flew by like a feather against the bedazzled, sparkly background. 

“Wait blonde hair?”

As you looked to see who it was the person knocked into you almost sending you flying back into the bar but you caught the other and yourself just in time. “Hey what the he*l?”

“Don’t use that tone with me...young....lady,” Haymitch sorta slurred as he stood up straight, holding the glass cup to his lips. He was about to take a swig of his drink but he paused and squinted at you. “My you’re beautiful...who are you again?” 

You rolled your eyes. Of course Haymitch was drunk, when was he never. You placed your hands on your hip, you were almost like a parent to him sometimes. However, the feelings that rested within you did not leave or escape instead they made a home in your heart, rooting its way within your very veins. This was going to be impossible. 

“Hello to you to Haymitch. I’m your worst nightmare.” 

“Nooooooooooo,” Haymitch patted his lips with his finger as if thinking, “thats not it. You’re someone special, god I feel like I know you.”

“Are you serious Haymitch? Thats because you do know me! I’m y/n l/n! Remember?”

Haymitch was calm for a few seconds but then his eyes widened and a smile took onto his face. “See now I remember you, just took me a few minutes but I still got it. When you were younger you used to make me pins to wear every time we met, got any for me this time?”

You chuckled, unbelieving to you that he still thought about those minuscule gifts that you gave him so many years ago. “No not this time.”

Haymitch tried walking forward but he almost fell onto a group of people. He was swaying back and forth. “These parties are a pain in the as*.

“Tell me about it.”

Haymitch cackled as he tried taking another drink from his alcohol. You grabbed onto his arm to stop him. “Let go of me y/n.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“NO!”

“YES!”

“NO! Give me that,” you took the cup away from him and he tried grabbing it from you but you chugged the rest down. 

Haymitch glared at you,  “you b*tch.”

“B.I.T.C.H Beautiful Intelligent Talented Charming and Hot yeah i know. Now lets go get you sitting down so you don’t hurt yourself.” You guided Haymitch into a quiet room as you tried sitting him down. He moved out of the way and instead started to dance a little. His eyebrows wiggled as he bit his lip, “is this where you have fun with me and we moan so loud the rest of the bastar*s can hear us?”

“How much did you drink?”

“Enough to make me even forget why I’m here.”

“I can see that, wow.” You sat on the edge of the bed and Haymitch plopped himself beside you. You smiled up at him. His face made you reminisce, made you think about memories. Back then he was such an important person in your life. 

“Do you ever wish you could go back in time? Go back to when we were wild teenagers?”

You shrugged, “sometimes I do and then sometimes I don’t. My life is full of responsibilities now and so is yours. We are mentors now, its our job and duty to make sure these kids succeed.”

“You always were the serious type,” he scoffed.

“I was always the calm and reliable one, while you were off lying down with every girl and drinking every drink.”

Haymitch smiled as he thought about the past, “do you remember that one time me and you went to the lake and swam all night? The water was just perfect and the moon was so god dam* big I thought it was about to fall on us. Do you remember when our bodies met and touched? All wet, your lips perfect, our hearts beating fast as we got closer and closer to each other almost meeting. We almost but then...you stopped. You owe me a kiss.”

Trying to get his words out of your mind you pushed him back so he could lay down. “I think you are way too drunk.” You were bashful. 

Haymitch caught your arm and stared directly into your orbs, the windows to your soul. “Y/n, why did you stop?”

You clenched your hands into fists as you fought to stay in eye contact. “I was scared. We were young and I didn’t know if I would ever see you again. Then we just drifted apart. We’re grown up. Its time to forget about the past.”

Haymitch sat up so his forehead rested against yours, “how can I forget about the past when you were there? How can I not look forward to the future when you are here in the present?”

His collar shriveled up as you gripped onto it with all your might. “Haymitch you’re making this too difficult for me.” You inched closer and closer, wanting his lips. Wanting to finally connect. 

“Then how about I make it easy for you and shut you up already.” He crept closer and closer until you rested your head against his shoulder, “I should probably go.”

Haymitch heaved a heavy sigh. He thought he was finally getting to you. He thought the pain of not being together was over. All he wanted was you and that kiss. 

“It was nice seeing you Haymitch, hopefully we can stay in touch. Now you stay here for a while, get better.” You grabbed all your things and were about to leave the room when Haymitch says, “next time. Next time, I’ll get ya. Just you watch. I’ll make sure I’ll kiss you and I know for a fact you will end up kissing me.”

You raised your brow, “You’re not very intimidating.”

“I’m not?” 

You opened the door and taking a final glance of your past and present lover you thought of the what if. What if you did kiss? What would have happened?

Tag list: @harrington-lover, @angelgl16, @perfectlybeautifulsuit, @hyehoney, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag), @leasly, @totally-alexa21, @creamy-pasta-boi, @multireese, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @prentisskelley, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople, @collectiveyou, @wtfisalltherandoms, @dirbel, @eastcoasthaven, @fangirl-4-life415 (wont let me tag), @marwantr

wanna be tagged in my crap? comment!

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Are You Watching Closely?  2: Sleight of Hand

Jack Wilder x Reader (Dylan’s Niece)

Part: One

Words: 1511

Summary: After introducing you to the rest of the Horseman, Dylan leaves you with them so you can get to know each other and hopefully to relieve the new tension. Despite being the newcomer, you quickly become friends with the youngest- and definitely most handsome- Horseman; Jack Wilder.

Note: I am so glad so many of you have liked this story! I love writing the family aspect with Dylan and the new budding relationship with Jack. Plus this gives me an excuse to keep rewatching the movies! (I also wanted to give Jack a bit of a backstory, so I took some creative liberty and made one up. Hope you like it)

The three men stared at you in shock. You shifted uncomfortably. This was such a bad idea. Dylan clapped his hands together to draw their attention back to him.

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, we have a new opportunity coming up.”

“Are you serious man?” Jack exclaimed. “After Henley left you said I could get back on stage again. Not someone who just showed up.” You tried not to take any offense to his words. Mainly because he was right; it wasn’t fair that he has to stay behind while you rose to the top with the other boys.

“I told you I’d think about it, and I have,” Dylan stated. “And I really need you behind the scenes a little longer.”

“Dylan, come on. I’ve been behind the scenes my whole life.” Jack sighed and you felt another pang of guilt. You shot Dylan a dark look and he narrowed his eyes.

“Well,” Dylan rubbed his eyes. “I am going to let you all mingle and get to know each other while I get all of the plans for your next performance gathered and sorted, okay?” Your eyes widened.

“You’re just leaving me here?” You hissed.

“Don’t worry sweetheart.” Merritt chuckled. “We won’t bite.” Danny rolled his eyes. “Well, he might.”

“I will see you all later.” Dylan aimed the statement at you, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Danny glared at you with suspicion. You shied away from him, trying not to aggravate him more than you already had. Dylan left without another word and you felt the burning stares from the three men around you. You smiled awkwardly.

“Hi.”

The apartment was nice for a person running from the law. The boys had drawn straws to determine who you would be staying with, which you had to admit hurt. It was like being the one nobody wanted on their team in high school. Part of you regretted not taking Dylan up on his offer to find you your own place. You had said you should get to know the guys if you were going to be stuck with them. Now you wanted nothing more than to disappear in the biggest bubble bath ever. Jack threw himself onto his couch and you stood in the doorway.

“You can come in.” He said, his tone annoyed and tired. You rolled your suitcase behind you, sitting down in a large leather chair. You blew out a long breath, looking everywhere but him. Of course you had to be staying with the- well your nickname for him was the Hot Horseman.

“Look,” You sighed, “I don’t want me to be here either, and I get why you guys don’t like me. But I’m just as stuck as you are, okay?” You slammed your mouth shut. You hadn’t actually meant to say all of that, it just sort of came out. Jack’s expression softened.

“Danny can really be a dick, huh?” He sat up, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I guess I didn’t give the most gracious of welcomes either.”

“I just…” You struggled for something to say. “I just feel awful. I mean, here you are, this super talented guy and Dylan won’t let you back on. Instead, he’s brought me in, a nobody from New Jersey who is mediocre at best.”

“Hey,” He began, inching slightly closer to you. “If Dylan thinks you’re good, then you’re good. Never doubt your own abilities.” He thought for a minute and stood. “Well, Miss Y/N, newly initiated member of the Horseman,” He held out his hand. “Follow me.”

He lead you down a hallway and out of the window leading out to the fire escape. The sky was clear, with stars just starting to appear in the sea of greyish-blue. You gazed up at them, remembering how you and your mom would lie up on the roof of your tiny house and snack on chips and ice cream all night, just looking up at the stars. That was before she got sick.

“Whenever I need to think, I always come out here.” Jack pulled his hood over his head in case anyone happened to look up at the two of you. “Reminds me of the little freedom I have left.” He pointed up at the group of stars. “You see that one? My dad used to teach me the constellations. He would tell me all of their stories and make me feel like I was a part of them.”

“My mom always told me that the stars were where all of the magic came from.” You laughed lightly. “She was a magician too. Before she…” Your voice trailed off.

“I'm sorry.” Jack looked at you sincerely. “My parents died when I was 16. Car accident.” You stood there, staring at each other under the stars for what felt like hours. Your fear of being a Horseman slowly started to dwindle. Instinctively, he pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket and flipped them over one another. His hands moved quickly and expertly, crisscrossing cards, flinging them up in the air and snatching them back again. It was hypnotizing.

“Do you work with cards?” He wondered, halting his movements, offering the deck to you. You shrugged.

“I used to. My uncle would teach me all kinds of tricks. He would always tell me; ‘The closer you look’-”

“The less you see.” Jack smirked. “So he’s a magician too?” You chuckled.

“He prefers the term; specialist.” As if on cue, your phone started to buzz in your pocket. Dylan’s picture flashed on the screen. You sighed. “I have to take this.” You slid your thumb across the screen and climbed back into the apartment, leaving Jack still gazing up at the sky.

“Hey, I just wanted to ask how it’s going with the guys.” Dylan held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he unlocked the door to his own apartment. You rolled your eyes.

“It’s fine. I’m staying with Jack and he’s actually pretty nice.” You felt your gaze rise up to the boy outside, blush rushing to your cheeks as he turned back and grinned at you.

“Wait, you’re Jack? Only Jack?”

“Yeah… why?”

“I thought that all of you would stay in the same place, you know, not with just one.” He tried to keep his protective-side voice from coming up, but he couldn’t help it. He had been fighting off boys since you were in middle school and now you were in an apartment alone with Jack Wilder.

“Do you honestly think these guys could survive living together?” You scoffed. He was doing the protective thing again like he always had when you were in high school. It drove you crazy. “Besides, what’s wrong with him?”

“Jack’s a nice kid but…” Dylan trailed off. He didn’t know much about Jack, but he knew a playboy when he saw one. He was afraid that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.

“Look, I have dealt with plenty of guys, okay? Your concern is sweet, but I can handle myself.” You told him goodnight and promised to see him in the morning before hanging up so he couldn’t refute. Jack smirked as you rejoined him. “What?”

“Nothing.” He snickered. “It’s just that you get this line between your eyebrows when you get frustrated.” He traced his finger over your forehead and you stepped away.

“It's getting late, maybe we should call it a night.”  You noticed his face fall for a second, but his grin bounced right back as he held up a card. The Jack of Hearts.

“You sure you don't want to brush up on your cardistry.” He winked and you felt your heart flutter. You tried to seem nonchalant as you took your favorite card from his hand flipped it between your fingers. You tossed it your other hand and grinned.

“I don't see why not.” You pressed your lips to the card, living a dark red mark from your lipstick. You climbed back through the window and Jack followed. As you reached the living room, you flung the card towards him, earning a nod of approval and a hint of an impressed smile. He flipped the card over his head and caught it behind his back with the other hand, shooting it back to you.

“You’re not too bad.” He commented, picking up a small remote and turning on his speakers. You let out a laugh as Frank Sinatra’s Witchcraft filled the room. It was one of your favorites.

“Nice to find another Frankie fan.” You did one final trick before making the card disappear. You strut back across the room towards him. “Now it’s time to call it a night, don’t you think?” You gave his chest a pat before walking off to grab your suitcase. Jack pulled the Jack of Hearts out of his jacket pocket, singing a line out with Sinatra.

“There’s no nicer witch than you!” He belted, vanishing off into his own bedroom.

Oops, almost forgot: @jared-padaloveme

[loki--fics]

Firelight - Oneshot

Haymitch x Reader

content warnings: smut, alcohol use

author's note: i love woody harrelson, and blame it on my daddy issues but haymitch is hot, okay? and when i literally could find ZERO (believe me, i looked) haymitch x reader fanfictions, i had to write my own. enjoy it, or don't, but i enjoyed writing it and i'm happy with it :)) ♡

mom i beg you please don't read this

~

Victor's Tour over, you had returned to your new house in the Victor's Village of District Twelve. It was empty, save for you and your cat, Bennie, and all too quiet. Facing the families of the tributes that lost, tributes that you had killed in order to win, had been the worst you've ever felt in your life. Their sad eyes staring at you, blaming you for the loss of their children... It was too much. At least while sober.

Making sure Bennie had food and water, you walked out of your house and across the street, to Haymitch's place. If anyone would have the spirits you needed to forget, it was him, and honestly there was no one else's company you'd want right now. After experiencing what he did all those years ago, you understood why he'd turned to drink.

Not bothering with knocking, you pushed the door open, glass bottles clinking as they rolled across the floor. "Hello? Haymitch? It's me," You called, looking around.

He stumbled out of his bedroom, and immediately you blushed, his shirt nowhere to be seen. You had never seen him like this before, but now that you had, you couldn't help but notice the scars that marred him. Sorrow filled you at the sight, and you realised how grateful you were to have him. He was the only one here who'd understand.

Your eyes moved downward, taking in his pyjamas. The plain black pants were cinched at the ankles and the waist, and fitted without being tight. There was a prominent bulge at the front of his pants, and you were sure you resembled a tomato with how furiously you were blushing.

Haymitch smirked. "If you're done undressing me with your eyes, wanna tell me what's up?"

"I- I wasn't- I mean, I didn't... Um," You sputtered. Not meeting his eyes, you could still feel his eyes on you, and you knew he was suppressing laughter.

You huffed. "I wanted to ask if I could have a drink," You said quickly, wanting to melt from embarrassment.

Peeking up at him, you saw his face go soft, and he sat down on the couch. He patted the seat next to him and you took it, the small loveseat not leaving much room between the two of you. Part of you didn't mind, but the bigger part of you would never admit that.

"When's the last time you slept?" He asked, holding out a bottle of whiskey. You grabbed it, relishing the burn as it filled your mouth and slid down your throat.

"District Three," You admitted quietly, passing the bottle back to him. That was almost four days ago now. But you hadn't gotten a full night's rest since before the reaping.

Haymitch sighed, taking a drink from the bottle. "It's the nightmares, isn't it?" He asked. "They never seem to end, not even when you wake up."

"No, they don't," You replied. Looking at him, you took a moment to really take in his appearance. Blonde hair messy and unkempt, bare chest glistening mildly with sweat, skin glowing almost gold by the firelight... You could see beyond the broken man who drowned his memories in alcohol, and saw someone beautiful.

As your gaze trailed up to his face, your eyes met his, not quite seam grey, but instead more blue. You realised he must have seen you staring at him, but in that moment you couldn't care less as you took another long drag from the bottle of whiskey. The strong alcohol spread through you, warming your skin and making you feel bold.

You reached out slowly, tracing a finger along a scar that ran from his collarbone to his ribs. He gasped as your skin made contact with his, and you pulled your hand away.

"I'm sorry," You said quickly, looking away from him and raising the bottle to your lips once more. After swallowing, you continued, "I'm not sure why I did that."

"It's okay," He surprised you by saying. His voice was soft as he took the bottle, setting it on the table. "I don't mind."

You felt your heartbeat quicken at his words as he sat back, baring his chest to you. Tentatively touching his skin, his eyes watching your hand intently, you ran your fingers along his scars. Some were thinner than others, but all were jagged, as though he was beaten and marred and left to fend for himself completely, no one caring to help him heal.

As if it had a mind of its own, your hand trailed up his chest, cupping the side of his face. His eyes darted down to your slightly parted lips before meeting yours again, his chest falling up and down in time with his rapid breaths.

Slowly, giving you time to move away, he sat up, moving his face closer to yours. Your heart felt like it was going to stop with how fast it was beating, and his eyes never left yours as he stopped, your faces inches apart. He wasn't sure if you wanted this, wanted him, and as he searched your eyes for permission, you nodded.

Closing the distance, Haymitch pressed his lips to yours, tasting like spirits and mint. The combination was cool and sweet and made you dizzy, and as you snaked your free hand around his neck, it was as though he had ben revived suddenly. He cradled the back of your head with one hand, the other wrapping around your waist and pulling you onto his lap as the kiss intensified. You had kissed other men before, but none of them compared to Haymitch. He was dominant, his lips aggressively conquering yours as his tongue ran along your bottom lip, making you gasp.

Every nerve was set aflame with sensation as his hands explored your body and his lips moved down to your neck, his scruff rubbing against your skin in the best way. You moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging it gently, eliciting a moan from him.

He pulled away suddenly, looking at you with guarded eyes. "You're drunk," He said, as if that was the only way someone would be with him like this.

"Not even," You replied, chest heaving as you panted. "I want you, Haymitch." He didn't look convinced, and you felt your heart break for him. "I'll still want you tomorrow," You said, kissing his jaw. "And the day after that." A kiss to his neck. "And every day for the rest of this life as well as the next." You peppered kisses along his collarbone and chest before moving back up and planting a kiss to his lips.

You felt his hard bulge against your crotch, and as you shifted, you ground against it. He gasped, a loud groan escaping his lips as you put yours to his ear. "I need you, Haymitch," You whispered. "Please."

Before you could blink, he had flipped you around so that you were laying down on the couch, one hand pinning your wrists above your head as the other held him up above you. He eyed you hungrily, still uncertain.

"Take me," You whispered.

At those words, his lips slammed against yours, and he literally ripped the shirt off your chest. His eyes devoured your exposed chest, you had not bothered to wear a bra and you were glad for that now. Bending down, he took your nipple in his mouth, and you couldn't help the moan that came from your lips. Free of his grip on your wrists, you grabbed him by the hair, tugging hard and feeling your core heat up at his growl in response.

He pressed his hardened member against you, grinding it roughly as he continued the assault on your nipples. All of the meager experience you had with sex could not have prepared you for the pleasure Haymitch was giving you right now, and the two of you hadn't even gotten to the actual sex yet.

"I need you, now," He growled, sitting up and yanking your pants down your legs. Your underwear was the next to go, and Haymitch's eyes hungrily consumed the sight of your naked body before him. He wasted no time pulling his member from his pants, and your eyes widened as you took him in. His length was impressive, but it was his girth that shocked you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him back to you, pressing your lips to his roughly as you felt his member rub against your core. He pulled back, his eyes cast downward, hesitating for only a moment before he plunged himself into you.

A feral scream escaped your lips at the sudden intrusion, and your hands gripped his shoulders tightly. He continued pounding into you forcefully, moans falling from both of your lips like a mantra, over and over as he slammed his hips into yours. You felt delirious with pleasure, his member hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.

"Y/N," Haymitch moaned, and hearing your name said so intimately by him was the hottest thing you've ever heard.

You pressed your lips to his, desperate to be as close to him as possible. You'd never felt this good before, no one had ever made you feel this good before. He made you feel more alive in the time you'd known him than you had in years, and you never wanted the feeling to end.

"I want to watch you come undone," Haymitch growled in your ear. You felt his hand reach down, his long fingers pressing against your clit, taking your pleasure to new heights. His fingers circled around the hardened nub as he slammed his member into you, and you felt a knot begin to form in the pit of your stomach.

"Haymitch," You moaned. "I- I-" Blinded by pleasure, you couldn't finish the rest of your sentence.

"Come for me," He demanded, and you felt the knot release and pleasure explode through your body. His name fell from your lips over and over like a prayer, and between watching you come undone and feeling your walls clench around his member, he couldn't help but come himself.

Thrusting roughly into you, his member twitched as his seed spilled into you, sloppily pumping in and out of you a few more times before he pulled out of you, scooping you up and laying down, with you laying on top of him.

You kissed his chest before laying your head down on him, panting as much as he was. Your brain was foggy in a post-ecstasy daze, and both of you glistened with sweat.

"That was... Amazing," You said softly, stifling a yawn.

He chuckled, petting your hair. "Yes it was."

Feeling more at peace than you had since before the games, the two of you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

[janephillipsblog]

The Further Education of a Rogue

The past six weeks have been a busy but fantastic leg on my journey as an actor. As well as volunteering for the One Yellow Rabbit High Performance Rodeo for most of January, I ushered for several other shows which also got me in to see them. “The Robber Bridegroom” with Jupiter Theatre - somehow there is something even more gruesome about the dismemberment and murder of a puppet on stage than the realistic killing and maiming found in horror movies. Very well done and a play that made you think about social attitudes to domestic violence. Then there was the very brilliant “Deathtrap” by Ira Levin with Vertigo Theatre that would make one scream with laughter one minute and scream with horror the next. Next was “Shakespeare in Love” with Morpheus Theatre which was wonderfully done and then there was “Boom X” written, directed and performed by the super talented Rick Miller for Theatre Calgary, which took us through the years of Generation X which is, of course, my generation. I also ushered for Neil Simon’s “Plaza Suite” for Simply Theatre, a classic play that I have never seen before. Again, very well done. I feel that watching as much live theatre as possible is incredibly valuable for anyone wanting to create within that medium. It inspires me for my acting and even for my future writing and directing. 

Ushering for Boom X, Theatre: Calgary.

On the big screen I saw “The Upside” with Kevin Hart, Bryan Cranston and Nicole Kidman, which was good, and on the small screen, I am still working my way through “Orange is the New Black” as well as “The Office” (US version). I also saw “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri” starring Frances McDormand and Woody Harrelson, both favourite actors of mine. So good! I listened to several interviews with McDormand after watching that film as I wanted to learn more about her as an actor.  

At the beginning of January, I started a six-week Essentials of Film and TV course with Company of Rogues Actors’ Studio (corogues.com), taught by Joe-Norman Shaw. In 2004, after about a year in Alberta, I took Scene Study I and II with Rogues. It was around that time that I had started to think of acting as more than a hobby, and a passion that could be developed. Both courses, one of which was taught by Stacie Harrison, who still teaches at the studio and whom I spent a day on set with on “Jann” back in September, were a really good experience for me. In both these courses, the students were paired up and given scenes to work on over the duration of the course, which allowed us to delve more deeply into a scene than would normally be the case for a community theatre production. The first session was with an instructor called Natasha who no longer works at the studio, but I will never forget how she told my partner and I that watching our scene (from Caryl Churchill’s “Top Girls”) was like watching “Coronation Street” which was to me, a big compliment. It was one of my favourite shows at the time and I’ve just started watching it again after a hiatus of many years. During Stacie’s class, I brought in long stem wine glasses for use in our scene from “Women of Manhattan” by John Patrick Shanley. Another group asked to borrow them and both ended up breaking during that scene (which was a couple fighting). Note to self: never use favourite items as props – I broke a tray that a friend had brought to a play to use as a prop last year. It was her mother’s and I am pretty sure that that incident has not endeared me or community theatre in general to her mother!

Essentials of Film and TV was different in that it focused on the audition aspect in the film and television world, however we also did discuss working in the industry as well as acting in general. For the most part, each week we were given sides of a scene from a movie to work on with a partner for the next week and then would have a bit of time in class to work on the scene together before it was presented in front of the rest of the class and videoed with each partner acting as the reader for the other one. For one class we had to do cold reads and were given about 20 minutes to prepare and for the last class, it was set up like a real audition with sides provided just a couple of days ahead of time and audition times given. We could not prepare with a partner and none of us got to watch others audition. It certainly felt like a real audition to me despite knowing that it was the last class of a six-week course! I felt that I really improved my audition techniques over the course, even learning to use a chair or water bottle appropriately in the audition room (as that is all that there often is to help set the scene). We had been provided a handout for Uta Hagen’s Six Steps with questions to be answered for the character and the scene. I have started to use this for every character I get to portray in an audition including ones for my theatre monologues. It works. I had the opportunity to practice with two film auditions in January (one being a self-tape) and felt a lot more confident in how I presented myself in an audition. The best take-aways from the class (other than the experience and practice) were to enjoy the journey and to not worry about the outcome of auditions too much as at the end of the day it is about whether an actor’s essence fits the part – apparent when we watched several people do the same scene. All in all, the Rogues’ Essentials of Film and TV, as with any of the courses offered by the studio in general, is a safe place for an actor to develop skills and to practice their craft.

I had my first professional theatre audition with Vertigo Theatre at the end of January. I had submitted my résumé and headshot, but it was still quite a surprise to get an invite to their general auditions in my junk mail one afternoon! I had to prepare two contrasting monologues. The day of auditions, I had already taken the day off work to attend a volunteer orientation session with AARCS as a cat caregiver and chose to go riding prior to that in the morning. I recited my monologues as I drove in the car including reciting them backwards. I am glad I wasn’t at the office as at least riding and AARCS took my mind off what felt like impending doom. By the time I was getting ready to go I was turning into a bit of basket-case - I suddenly couldn’t stand my own company. I was afraid that I would dawdle and be late. I dropped my keys as I was heading out the door, fumbling to pick them up as I juggled my purse and water bottle. (Incidentally, it was the same the morning of the mock auditions for the Rogues class, adding to it, the fact that I dropped my change for parking when getting out of the car on that day!) I took the train downtown and headed to the audition venue, second-guessing myself on its exact location. I headed inside the building and up the elevator and then down the longest corridor ever or so it seemed. I was early and I noticed that the two people that had signed in ahead of me had been in “Spamalot” with me in the fall – a lot of people I know got auditions with Vertigo and Theatre Calgary this year. Soon enough it was my turn. After a brief chat with the panel of two it was time to do my monologues. The first one was Katherine’s speech from Shakespeare’s “Henry VIII”. I honestly don’t know what came out of my mouth for the first couple of lines. I told myself to get a grip and continue and I think I recovered ok. Hopefully it looked better than it felt! The second monologue was Rivka’s opening monologue from “In the Cards” by Caroline Russell-King. It went as well as it ever has. I was sat in a chair and crossed my legs for the most part, however when I uncrossed them, my right leg just shook and vibrated (why couldn’t it have done that when needed in last year’s “Wake in the West”?). After, I sat down for another chat with the audition panel who explained that once the season for next year was announced there would be auditions for specific shows and I could let them know if I was interested in auditioning for any of the roles and that they would let me know if they wanted to see me for anything as well. So it wasn’t so bad after all!

This past week, I took a three-day Stunt Combat Workshop with Adrian Young of AY Action Services. It was an intensive, but fun and rewarding three days. When I joined ACTRA last summer I was asked to fill out a form if I was interested in doing stunts, something I hadn’t really thought about before. This wouldn’t get me stunt work but it would add me to the list of people interested in pursuing the work – it is a hard segment of the industry to get into. The workshop sounded useful, appealing and boundary pushing and so I signed up. It did not disappoint. The first day was mostly unarmed fight choreography and I was able to utilize techniques I learnt many years ago during Tae Kwon Do and the workouts at Canuckles MMA (RIP Max Marin), though I have to get used to “cheating” my hits for camera rather than just almost making contact. I also learnt how to do sit falls as well as forward tumbles. It was an intensive day and I was exhausted by the time I got home, at which time I had a hot bath right away. The next day we added fake handguns to the mix and learnt disarming techniques. We started to put together some fight choreography which we would include in an action sequence for our demo reel to be shot the next day where would we would each get to be the hero. That day finished with wire pulls where the stunt person would be pulled back on a wire into a fall as they were “kicked” or “punched” back. I didn’t feel ready to try this technique myself and so I just watched (as a few of us did). The final day was super fun as we shot our action sequence. I felt that it was a good simulation of a day on set for an action film and I did truly feel like I was either in a video game or an action star. It was a fantastic workshop and once again a safe environment as each participant was able to just participate in the activities they were comfortable with, though there were plenty of opportunities to push personal physical boundaries.

Striking a pose at the Stunt Combat workshop with AY Action Services

We started rehearsals for Gilbert & Sullivan’s “Princess Ida” with Morpheus Theatre at the end of January and it is coming along, though still in its early stages. The show goes up in April. I also auditioned for “The Wedding Singer” this weekend with Front Row Centre. If I get into that show, it will be a very busy Spring for me that’s for sure! 

[back-and-totheleft]

Fans get up close

It's not every day that moviegoers get to be up-close and personal with legendary film director and screenwriter Oliver Stone. Stone, the driving force behind such blockbusters as “Platoon,” “JFK” and “Born on the Fourth of July,” covered a range of topics during a visit to the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema in Littleton March 6. He discussed the success and turmoil surrounding two of his most talked-about movies, “Natural Born Killers” and “U-Turn,” which an audience of approximately 75 people had the chance to watch back-to-back. Stone was the centerpiece of a panel discussion with Alamo general manager Walter Chaw and Matt Zoller Seitz, editor-in-chief of RogerEbert.com and author of “The Oliver Stone Experience,” a book that takes readers through the life and career of Stone. The book is due out in September. Following are a few snippets of the conversations with the Academy Award-winning director. On 'Natural Born Killers' and its reception Stone referred to the 1994 tale of murder and mayhem as a “very controversial” commentary on the media in the early 1990s and the growing tendency of cable news networks to latch onto the most gruesome crimes and report on them endlessly. The movie, starring Woody Harrelson and Juliette Lewis as a pair of psychotic lovers on a killing spree, was the subject of numerous product-liability lawsuits, and the makers were “accused of being an accessory to murder,” Stone said. “(Author) John Grisham started (the) whole thing with a buddy in Louisiana whose friends were killed,” and said the movie “incited young people” to commit violent acts. But there were also elements of the film that, under closer examination, reveal a “sensitive and delicate romance that is actually tender to us at this point,” Chaw said. “The love story is very genuine,” Chaw said. Stone agreed, saying “these two people, Mickey and Mallory, are the best people in the movie, which may turn some people off. It's hard to accept that.” On the initial dismissal by critics of 'U-Turn' Stone described “U-Turn” as a film noir and a “meditation on small-town America” exploring secrets that are “kind of shocking to us.” “It's about the dark side of our nature: the love, the greed and all of those things, sex and lust, money,” Stone said. Starring Sean Penn as a hot-shot Californian marooned in the middle of a desert town, the story takes twists and turns that leave the viewer guessing, although there are hints throughout the movie as to what's really going on. The low-budget movie had an ensemble cast, including Jennifer Lopez, Nick Nolte, Billy Bob Thornton, Jon Voight, Joaquin Phoenix and Claire Danes, but was “rejected by critics roundly,” the director said. It came at a time when Stone says he was exhausted from making 10 films in a 10-year span. “U-Turn” has developed a cult following since being released in 1997. “It was forgotten. I think it was people like you that started talking about it. And Walter,” Stone said to Seitz. On what audiences have come to expect from his movies With films like “Salvador,” “World Trade Center,” “Nixon,” “Any Given Sunday” and a documentary series called “Untold History,” Stone has “continued to challenge himself, to evolve, and to surprise us. And he never goes quite the way you think he's going to go,” Seitz said. Audiences are exposed to an “intoxicated, sensual, at times even nightmarish feeling that you don't get from other major American filmmakers,” the critic said. “You do not go to an Oliver Stone to be reassured (or) to have conventional wisdom repeated to you,” Seitz said. “You go to an Oliver Stone film to be shaken up, to be challenged, to laugh sometimes in a way that you feel 'should I be laughing at this?', and to feel a sense of being transported.” On the upcoming film 'Snowden' and meeting with the whistleblower “I'm really not at liberty to say too much, but I'll just say we went over there early and he… answered questions, because that's his nature,” Stone said of Edward Snowden, who was granted asylum by Russia after fleeing authorities in the United States. Stone said Snowden is “smart, articulate, he cares very much.” He participates regularly in forums, discussions and lectures, and has a presence on social media. Snowden often works most of the night because of the time difference. Many of his colleagues remain in the United States. Stone said Snowden is “in good spirits,” exhibits “no sign of depression,” and has “broadened his sense of humor,” but the former Central Intelligence Agency employee remains guarded. “Snowden” is scheduled for release in September. On recent film releases People who work in Hollywood often aren't big viewers of movies or TV. “Oliver is not one of those people,” Seitz said. His first question when meeting friends is often “what have you seen?” He recently recommended “Man from U.N.C.L.E.” to Seitz, who also enjoyed it. Stone said “you might boo me for this” before professing his love for “Zoolander 2” starring Ben Stiller (the audience at Alamo laughed). Stone described it as “witty. It's very well written.” “Will Farrell has never been better as the incarnation of all evil, and I say this seriously,” Stone said. “You see evil in my movies, but when you see this movie, you see evil.” He also detested the CGI blockbuster “Pacific Rim,” then in the next breath praised “Battleship,” Seitz said, recalling a conversation a few years ago.

-Chris Michlewicz, “Fans get up close with filmmaking legend Oliver Stone,” Littleton Independent, March 14 2016 [x]

[80s4life]

Maybe One Day

Word Count: 1,970

Status: Not requested!

A/N: I had gotten this inspiration from @ smoothcriminals on WATTPAD. There was this whole conversation a bunch of people had gotten into on just cheesy, heartfelt love and one message struck a chord. I did switch it around a bit, but not a lot.

Fandom: Zombieland 2009

Relationship: Tallahassee x Reader

Summary: As the Reader and Tallahassee finally settle down after the eventful day of saving Wichita and Little Rock, Wichita and Columbus getting together, and yet another shock of the girls attempting to leave Columbus, Reader, and Tallahassee behind. During their time of happy drinking and a settling calm, some embarrassing/ cheesy wishes/dreams are revealed.

Masterlist  Zombieland Masterlist

Taglist: @snapessecretdiary​

Warnings: fluff, lovey dovey, language (It’s Tallahassee, come on), slight mention of Hitler? Maybe cheesy to some folks?

{Gif not mine -> @ironduke37​ }

[Y/D/D] = Your Dream Destination (You can use where you were born too if that’s what you’d like!)

(For those who don’t understand, in Zombieland, each character went by the names of where they intended on going (or their places of birth) rather than their real names. This was Tallahassee's way of not getting too involved, but overall, never really worked. It was considered intimate, given Wichita and Columbus’ relationship, and revealing of names being the thing that brought them together more.)

Sighing, I finally lower my gun, the multiples of destroyed, torn, bloodied dead bodies scattering every direction of where the boardwalk lies. Peering into the distance, I am able to spot Columbus pressing the emergency button, the girls, Little Rock and Wichita, slowly lowering back down to the ground, safely now. I stretch my arms, a feeble attempt to loosen the kinks in my arms, neck and back due to the multiple rounds of gunfire and kickbacks of guns.

A content smile plays on my lips as I start to make my way around the pier to the other Columbus, Wichita and Little Rock were currently stood upon, just catching sight of the pair hugging and kissing, grossing Little Rock out. Somewhere, in the distance, I can see Tallahassee, exiting a small game shack on the roof, surrounded by hoards of dead bodies. All of which he was glad to say he took down on his own, given he only had minimal rounds and two golden plated hand guns.

He just misses me as I make my way behind him, mimicking a zombie, wrapping my arms around his neck in a playful attempt to scare him. He jumps, grabbing my arm and pinning it, about to break it until he realizes who it is. His once tense and slightly scared expression washing off his face to emanate a look of confusion and ‘Why?’ 

Seeing my slightly tense smile, he lets go of my arm, my body easing from its alert state. Instantly, we burst into laughter, him wrapping his arm around my shoulders as we walk to the rest of the group. “You’re fucked up, you know that? I could’a shot you for that dumbass move you did there,” Tallahassee says playfully, although the words he had spoken were 100% true given any other situation.

“Yeah, but you didn’t. Not yet at least. Maybe next time I’ll get lucky, huh?” I respond halfheartedly, punching his chest lightly.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s not talk like that right now, okay? I mean, we just killed a whole fucking boardwalk of zombies- Hey! Maybe even more than Hitler! Do ya’ think we’ll make Zombie Kill of the Week. Oh! Or maybe even the Zombie Kill of the Year!”

“Now who’s the dumb ass?” I roll my eyes.

“Whatever,” he answers lowly, dragging on the last bit of the word.

I giggle, although it was something so simple, him always managing to bring the best out of me was something truly amazing, even after the world has gone to shit. It’s a miracle I had found the boys when I had, forming an unexpected-alliance-turned-friends-turned-family all within the course of a few weeks of road-tripping, killing, getting fucked over multiple times, and Columbus’ charm in coaxing us into telling each other everything there is to know about one another.

Finally meeting up with the girls and Columbus, we get a full view of yet another lustful kiss from the newfound couple, Little Rock rolling her eyes and fist bumping Tallahassee, motioning towards the game shack. Prideful, he does a little imaginary hair flip, placing his arms on his hips, earning yet another laugh from Little Rock and I.

After a while, Columbus, Tallahassee and I make our ways to a candy shop, a big sign stating “Deep Fried Twinkies” instantly catching our eyes, knowing damn well whose been dying for one.

“So, Columbus, you and Wichita a thing now?” I ask, an interested expression on my face, especially having been rooting for him.

“Well, as a matter of fact [Y/D/D], yes. Yes we are,” the last bit of his sentence directed at the currently uninterested cowboy in front of us. I don’t blame him though, Tallahassee had given him a whole damn speech on “She’s Just Not That Into You” for the sheer fact that Columbus was a wimp and Wichita was a crazy, loose canon, fidgety with the thought of relationships. And, not to mention, had left us high and dry multiple times, taking our cars, ammunition, and food more times than one.

“Finally got to first base...Not bad for a skrawny little spit-fuck,” Tallahassee says, almost impressed.

Columbus smiles at this, deciding to ignore the nickname this time ‘round. I decide to stay behind and talk to Columbus about it more, him being somewhat of my best friend now, just catching sight of Tallahassee entering the store with the so-called, “Deep Fried Twinkies.” At this fact, we share a knowing look, understanding that this might just be Tallahassee’s last chance at happiness, Twinkies never expected to be made again. At least, not in this lifetime.

We do, however, enter sometime later, realizing it’s been a while and having a long drive home now, needing to leave soon. We both get quite a scare, entering slowly, as we stand shocked, Tallahassee beating the shit out of the store, yelling something about where are they and such, unable to find them.

Finally, he seems to catch some sort of dignity he has left, straightening and intending on going back through the entrance. That is, until a rustle in the storage closet has us body to body, armed and waiting, Columbus making two shots of his shotgun through the door.

Curious as nothing walks through the door, we all make our way in, realizing its a rat, but not caring as we maneuver our eyes to what Columbus had managed to hit. Tallahassee almost cries and drops to his knees, his hand reaching out to touch the destroyed and messy remnants of Twinkies that had happened to be in a box of their own. Remorseful, we avert our eyes, Columbus slightly scared of the outcome from his fuck-up, but Tallahassee doesn’t say anything. 

All he does is go back outside the store. I feel bad, not going to lie, but any one of us could’ve made the same mistake. I pat Columbus’ shoulder, signifying that it wasn’t that bad. We don’t have time to dwell now, what’s done is done. And now, Wichita and Little Rock are driving away with our car. Oh shit. They’re driving away with our car!

“No!” Columbus yells, coming to the same realization just as Tallahassee and I had.

Unexpectedly, the car stops instantly, Little Rock popping her head out of the sun roof, Wichita making eye contact with Columbus, smiling lovingly. Little Rock, looking towards Tallahassee, tosses him something yellow, his facing instantly lifting, catching and opening the Twinkies wrapper eagerly and taking a huge chomp.

All of us getting into the car happy, we make our way back home, or shall I say, Bill Murray’s mansion in Los Angeles, with Wichita driving. Columbus sat in passenger, Tallahassee and I in the middle row, looking out windows. Little Rock, deciding to take the open truck of the car, takes Tallahassee’s jacket for a blanket, using the space and minimal warmth to her advantage, sleeping to pass the time and to ease her exhaustion.

Not some time later, Columbus and Tallahassee follow in Little Rock’s footsteps, falling asleep in the car, leaving Wichita and I drowsy, looking at scenery in content silence. As she makes a slight sharp right, Tallahassee’s muscular body lightly collides with mine, having fallen over and across to my lap, where his head now rests. I smile, despite myself, letting him be, admiring him in silence and fighting the urge to caress all of the now smoothed creases of his brows and face. I settle for just placing my hand on his arm though, leaning my head against the window, dosing off soon after.

Waking up in the early morning, about 4 am, the sun has not shown, and we are all nudged to get out of the car, getting to the mansion safely. Still tired, I’m unable to focus, being wiped out from the exhaustion from the events of the day, going back to sleep in the car. It didn’t occur to me that we are in a zombie apocalypse, my mind being too fogged up to remember the dangers of staying here. 

Feeling warm and sturdy arms encasing my body, under the backs of my knees and behind my shoulders, my head lays comfortably against Tallahassee’s shoulder as he carries me, bridal style, into the mansion and to our shared two-bed room.

As he goes to lean me into my bed, I pull him with me, not caring for my own dignity and embarrassment, too sleepy to care honestly. He chuckles quietly as I open my eyes, looking up at him, giving a tired pout. I motion for him to lie beside me, which he happily obliges.

Respectfully, he does not go under the covers, kicking off his boots and tossing his hat, laying on top of the blankets and covers providing heat.

“Ya’ know, this is kinda cheesy, but...sometimes, maybe someday, I just want to meet somebody as crazy as me, but gorgeous, and I want to marry them. And- and treat them like the goddess/god they are, and dance to slow songs in the middle of the kitchen with them, and give them the universe. And, if they want, everything and all of me,” I say, slurring here and there from the fight of sleep, not wanting to miss Tallahassee’s presence come morning.

“Why the sudden train of thoughts [Y/D/D]? Something happen?” Tallahassee asks, concerned now, starting to think of the worst. Maybe you were thinking the world was getting the best of you or you were losing hope?

“Yeah...yeah...I guess something did happen. You. You happened. And I know what your gonna say, and I just wanted to come clean while I still have little care for my dignity. I never knew what it meant to love someone like the way I do now. I never knew that love could’ve been so unexpected and make me change every plan or thought I thought I had prepared. I didn’t want to be tied down, I didn’t want to be attached, I didn’t want love, or kids, or a person for that matter...That’s before I fell for you,” I say, almost pissed at myself now as the room had gotten tense, possibly ruining the moment.

“...That’s good,” he answers, about to make me question the answer he gave, but he cuts me off quickly, “-because I feel the same thing for you. Maybe not all that romantic shit, but I’ll be romantic...enough? I love you is what I’m trynna say here. I could be that person for ya,’ or at least I’d try to...”

I giggle, on the brink of tears, crashing my lips to his, embracing his body with my own, not wanting to let him go now that I have him. “I’ve always wanted a cowboy,” I say playfully.

“Yeah, and I’ve always wanted a pain in the ass,” he answers cheekily.

The answer he gets in return is a light punch to the arm half-heartedly, “Y/N.”

“What?” he asks, caught off-guard.

“My name... It’s Y/N,” I say sweetly, the love and trust pouring with the words spoken.

“That’s an amazing name,” he says, playing with the strands of my hair, “It suits you.”

He never answered with his real name. It didn’t matter. Whatever his reasons were for it didn’t matter either. All that did matter was us.

This was a new chapter we’ve started for ourselves. Brand new, full of new ideas, promises, and events waiting to happen. A chapter we can embrace together, finally, as a couple, unexpected, but perfect and full of love to share.

[kahlanmars]

PAPER RINGS part. 7

The babies are baaaaack!

MASTERLIST

7. This is why we can't have nice things

You wake up in the morning with a bad headache and terrible nausea. You have to keep your eyes closed because the light is too heavy and the room won’t stop spinning. From the bed you can see you in the mirror of the makeup table and the vision you have is something else. Your hair is messy, your eyes look puffy and your skin is green, your lips are clearly dehydrated and your eyeshadows and lipstick are all over your face. Not your greatest look, but very capitol. The room is too bright and the light does not welcome you now. 

«If you have to puke, puke on the right.»

On your left, with a rough voice there is Finnick Odair, as waisted as you if not more, that is looking at you with a suspicious look, ready to fly away if you really have to vomit. His arm is under your waist, and he tightens the grip when he realizes you are waking up.

Because last night was terrible and he doesn’t want you to cry again.

Haymitch, Perla, Lora, Effie. You messed up badly with every person you love. With your eyes closed you see the look on their faces again.

You could have survived without Haymitch thanks to Effie. You can’t survive without Haymitch and Effie.

Stupid girl, you survived the Hunger Games, you can do this again, your internal (mean) voice tells you, but you survived thanks to them, because of them. When you are alone you are at your lowest point.

«I have lost everyone.» You state, frightened. You miss human touch, you crave human touch.

«You still have me.» Finnick argues and you thank heaven for him. Quite the best friend he is, and you can go in the same category just because you saved his life once. He did it twice and more. He never judged you. He knows your deepest secrets and he never dared to judge anything.

«Everybody hates me.» You whisper, and you hide your face on his chest. You try not to sob, and you can’t because you don’t have water in your body, but your eyes are shinier now. 

«Don’t be stupid, nobody hates you.» He strikes your hair. But he is lying, you are sure of it, you clearly remember Perla’s tone and Lora’s eyes. 

«You don’t hate me.» You try to get up, but your body doesn’t want to cooperate. «Finnick, I’m not feeling too well.» You are aware you act like a child, but you can’t get up to take your  medicine. 

He touches your forehead and raises his eyebrows. «You are feverish.»

«Must be the alcohol, I don’t drink often. With Haymitch at home I don’t risk it. I… didn’t risk it.»

«You should sleep it away.» Going back to bed is tempting, but Effie can’t stand you and you can’t abuse her hospitality now. You were so happy to share a home with her. You just wished you did more of the things you always saw in the movies. Effie was a wreck and you were even worse, it has not been the best timing.

«I can’t sleep, Fin. I have to go to a hotel.»

«A hotel?» 

«Yeah, Effie doesn’t want me home anymore. She doesn’t trust me anymore and you don’t want someone you don’t trust in your home.»

«I’ll talk to her.»

«No need.» Effie comes into the room and she hands you two a mug. She has makeup on again and her outfit is impeccable. And yet, you saw her dancing on the floor until morning. «I spent fifteen years  taking care of an addict and I have no intention to repeat history, okay?»

You and Finnick look at her like guilty puppies, well known she is totally right. She usually is. «Okay.»

Miss Trinket sighs and she looks at you, still a little annoyed.

«Now. Daisy, can you tell me what you do during the day?»

«Excuse me?» You don’t understand.

«Last night it wasn’t you. I have a theory, I want to understand, so answer me.»

«Well, I get up, I make breakfast and lunch-»

«For me?» She seems sad and ashamed by it and this is not the result you wanted. 

«For you, and sometimes for Portia. I go to work until six and a half p.m., I come home, I make dinner, I help you clean a little, we eat together and then I do the dishes and I work on the wedding dress until I fall asleep.»

«Where do you eat for lunch?»

«I eat an apple.» You start by saying it’s just a day, and then you go on and you suddenly tell yourself you don’t have time and you are not in the mood anyway, and it becomes a habit. 

«Just an apple? Why? Daisy, you need to eat! And to sleep! You make lunch for Effie and Portia, why not for you?»

«Because this is Effie’s food and she already hosts me.» You explain. But it’s not just that, it’s something else and you can’t quite put the finger on it, you can’t say it. In District Twelve there is not such thing as using food to control something. Food is a necessity.

«My God, darling girl, I never said you couldn’t eat!»

«But you are miserable all the time and I didn’t want to be a burden!»

«You are not a burden. And what about your money?»

«Partly is for Holly, I want to repay her, partly is for the wedding because Haymitch doesn’t want a big one so I want to contribute, and partly is for you. I was going to start paying rent.»

«So you sleep for hours at night, you eat an apple and a dinner, and between the chores at home, the job and the wedding dress you work all day. What did you buy for yourself in your time at the Capitol?»

«Uhm, nothing?»

 «What?»

«I have to save money! And I can do it.»

«You are burnt out.» She looks at you with her blue eyes so full of worrying. It must be a serious thing, but you have no idea what she is saying.

«What does it mean?» You ask her, 

«You don’t know it? Don’t you go to Doctor Aurelius?»

You blush. You were supposed to keep going, but the doctor is in Thirteen and it’s fine when you are in Twelve, but now you are in the Capitol and you canceled a lot of meetings.

«I’m supposed to go, but I’m really busy here.»

«Daisy… oh, darling girl.» She shakes her head and she goes near you. «Finnick, dear, can we have a moment alone, please?»

«I’ll go on the couch.» He answers, still sleepy from the night before.

You watch Effie like you are doing an exam. 

«I’m sorry. But it was for the best, I mean you are always tired and…» You begin, but she stops you.

«I get that you did it out of good intentions. But I need to believe in you.»

«You can!» You try not to cry again. «You are my best friend and I’m really sorry.»

«I still think you didn’t think it through, and that is because you are severely sleep deprived, but Daisy, what you did is wrong.»

«Totally wrong.» You confirm it.

«And you have your faults, my dear.» She rolls her eyes, totally unladylike, but she got soft on that part after the revolution. «Don’t look at me like a puppy, I forgive you.»

Maybe she didn’t expect the rush of you hugging her, but she strikes your hair anyway. You can’t lose Effie, you can manage to lose everybody else but not Effie. You clench your hands in her clothes.

«Unfortunately dear, that is not why I was here. This is a newspaper…»

On the cover there is you and Finnick, hugging in a club. You remember that part of the night, you were devastated because of the discussion with Perla and Lora and he was just comforting you.

There is a line in bold that says “ONCE A TRAITOR ALWAYS A TRAITOR?”.

You read the short paragraph in a hurry.

The former tribute Daisy Pinecone is caught in a passionate kiss with the leader of the rebellion Finnick Odair, who Capitol remembers as one of the most beloved victors of the Hunger Games of all times. Finnick Odair is married to Annie Cresta-Odair, and rumors tell us Daisy Pinecone was in a relationship with her mentor, Haymitch Abernathy. Trouble in paradise, open couple or shameless cheating? 

«Once a traitor? This is… This is…» You can’t find the right words. This is outrageous, you never betrayed anyone. And you are not a celebrity! Paparazzi were after YOU? You? You are nobody, only a tribute. Maybe they were after your friend, not you. Finnick was and still very much is a celebrity.

«Capitol propaganda.» Finnicks ends the line for you, appearing by the door. He looks better, he cleaned his face, but he is furious and rightfully so.

«Isn’t that supposed to be ancient history?» Effie asks, and she almost has tears in her eyes.

«We are not kissing!» You snap. «I was crying and we were hugging, we are not kissing!» 

If Haymitch thinks you two are kissing he can do anything. Or nothing, you don’t know if he still cares, you don’t know if you two are still together, but you don’t want him to think you are cheating. You are not a cheater. And what if Marjorie finds the magazine? She would give it to him as proof. They could kiss again. 

And Annie, oh poor Annie, who helped you so much. You feel like shit as the very thought, not only because of the kiss - she knows better than to believe that, but because she still got humiliated one way or another. 

«I’ll go check on Annie on the phone.» You see him leave and you can just murmur a phrase, a bit ashamed. It was your fault, you were crying.

«Please, tell her that I’m sorry.»

«You should sleep a little more. I’ll call Portia.» Effie kisses your head. You feel a lot comforted by her words, and sleeping a little more seems perfect. 

You use your free time from Portia to make amends with Perla and Lora, starting with Perla because you have to admit Lora’s words still hurt. 

You stop along the line to get some pastries and you knock at her and Cinna’s door. It’s Cinna who actually opens the door, in a black pair of jeans and a white shirt, and you have to admit you are curious about their house. 

You could have guessed, it’s very sober and moderate. The walls are white, all the furniture is in brown wood and there is no sign of an ornament, just some pictures of Cinna’s successes, and if you have to guest you think it’s Perla who hung them. Cinna seems like a humble man. 

It’s smaller than what you pictured, but then you remember Cinna lost almost everything in the war and Perla is a district girl, she is not wealthy. 

«This is not a good day, Daisy.» He warns you. What does he mean it’s not a good day? Does Perla have bad days? «Would you give her this? I was on my way to bring it to her.»

He hands you a cup of tea, and you nod.

The room is dark, and it scarcely reminds you about the times you caught Haymitch after a booze. 

«Ehi.» You whisper, and you see her. She is in the bed, and while she remains your brilliant friend, you can see she is tired and maybe sick. «Are you not feeling well?»

She takes the tea out of your hands, but then she puts it on the bedside table.  

«It’s nothing, it’s just a headache.» She briefly smiles at you and she shrugs. Her eyes are not smiling, though.

«I’m sorry about yesterday.» You taunt and you sit on the bed. «About jealousy and… I’m sorry. You were right.»

«It’s ok.» She murmurs. She looks like she is not even hearing you.

«You are worrying me, Perla.»

She stops smiling, her eyes are not shining and watering. You have never seen Perla like this. «I can't do this sometimes, Daisy.»

The confession shocks you. You are used to Strong Perla, she is the strongest of the trio, the one you know can handle herself. And that makes you selfish, you realize. Because you worry about Effie, you worry about Lora, but you never worry about Perla, because you think she is okay. She is your age, not younger like Lora, and she is from the District, not naivé and privileged like a Capitol girl, and she has a solid head on her neck, but that doesn’t mean she is not affected by the same things that shook you.

«What? But you have this special life, a job, a boyfriend and…» Your words fade.

«And you have the same life. Still, you tell me everything's alright?»

It's not and you both know it. The nightmares are so present in your life Doctor Aurelius suggested taking sleeping pills, but you are afraid you are going to be addicted to them. You saw how an addiction works, it's not pleasant and you do not wish to live the experience.

«Sometimes I can't get out of bed. I feel too tired and dizzy to even brush my teeth, and I know it's disgusting, I'm sorry.» She keeps going. «Sometimes I open my eyes and I’m still in that arena, in the caves, and I know I will have to kill or be killed. Sometimes I’m on the street and I suddenly remember the war. It’s the same street, Daisy. And I was there, fighting for my life. And I stand still, I can’t move even for hours, Cinna has to calm me down so much lately... You must think I’m crazy, it’s crazy…»

«It’s not. It’s usual for us.» You remember Doctor Aurelius’ voice. This is not your fault, this is Snow fault, and the Capitol, and later District Thirteen and Coin. Not yours. You are a victim, you have been a victim and there is no shame in this.

Except you feel guilty sometimes, and you bet Perla does too. Because you are here, you are alive and a lot of people are not, Capitol citizens, your classmates in Twelve, the kids. 

«Us?» She asks, and she is abruptly younger than her age, she is just eyes, her big, big blue eyes.

«Tributes.» You explain, and you hop in the bed close to her. 

«You are rocking this Capitol world…» She looks down.

«I wasn’t on the mission. I got caught by Thirteen before the action because I killed Caius, remember?» You fix her hair over her ear. «But I can’t go in the ocean, or open water for what it matters. And I’m not a big fan of a dark place like a cave. We all have our fragilities…»

«I’m not weak.» Her voice is harder now, rough. You know her so much and it must be a torture for her to perceive herself as fragile. You remember how much time she spent trying to convince herself she wasn’t in love, just because she didn’t want to depend on another person, as selfless and wonderful Cinna was.

«You are not! You are a member of the revolution, Perla, you volunteered for the mission! No one can think you are weak. But we are…» You can’t find the right word, because you don’t want to hurt her more.

«Damaged.» She finishes off for you.

«But we can be damaged together. Would you want it?» You propose. She just nods and she squeezes your hand, and you take it as a win.

After the long talk with Perla, you just want to go to bed ready to clear things out with Lora tomorrow. You can sleep more, now that you don’t need to work on your wedding dress, and you seriously need it because you are exhausted. 

But your plans are not these ones for tonight, because lining against the door there is Haymitch.

You didn’t remember every detail in your dreams. He is here, his blonde hair loose on his shoulders, his magnetic blue eyes forged on your sight, with little wrinkles on the sides. He looks slightly older, like he is really tired or sick, but dear heavens he is handsome.

You can't totally explain why you are so in love with him. He is just that charismatic and beautiful, and his brain is so fascinating to watch at work. And he is a good man, a very good one. 

«She didn’t want to let me in.» He explains. You missed his deep voice so much you already have chills on your spine.

He looks at you. 

You look at him.

And you both burst into laughs like you are utterly stupid. And then just like magic your laughing turns into sobbing.

«We will talk, we will make up but please, just tell me if you still love me.» You feel so stupid but you have to ask yourself this question, because what once was a stupid banter got so big in your head you don’t know what is real anymore.

«What a stupid question, of course I still love you.»

When you see him you try not to cry, but he wraps his arms around your waist and he kisses you and you swear he watches you like you hang up the moon, and you burst into tears against his chest.

«I missed you so much. I’m sorry.» You didn’t want to cry, the whole point here is being an adult and you are not behaving like one.

«I’m here now, babygirl, I’m here now. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.» He wanted to come, he wanted to come sooner. He wasn’t with Marjorie. 

«I’m sorry I didn’t call.» You say it at the same time.

«I screwed up, Sweetheart.» It’s cold outside but you can’t do anything right now, even if you are aware the common thing would be to tell him to join you in the house. 

«I slapped you.» You remind him.

«I deserved it.» He grants. And he did, the first instinct was to chop his head off, he kissed another woman. He kissed the love of his previous life.

«I know you didn’t want to kiss her. I know it. Because you love me, right?» You want him to tell you. He doesn’t like to say it often and you respect it, it brings back memories of when everyone he loved died, you usually don’t push it. He says it in other things, like giving you the last bite of a sweet, or preparing you your favorite meals, or kissing your head while you are sleeping. Usually it’s enough, but not now.

«You are the love of my life.» He kisses you again, and you almost moan. You moan from a kiss, and it’s pathetic you are well aware of it, but the butterflies on the stomach are dancing rock and roll.

«And you are the love of mine. I swear.» You take his hand. It’s an overkill, because you are already in his arms, where you belong, but you want to feel his skin.

«Things are… I didn’t want to be damaged. I tried and I tried to be perfect for you, but I’m not.»

«I didn’t want perfection, I wanted you.» You say, and you are cheating a little because you are giving him puppy eyes, but this way he knows you mean it.

«But you deserve it. Every time you come into the room you bring the light. You are, I…» He is working himself up, so you put a hand on his chest.

«Easy.»

«I tried to suppress what I didn’t want you to see, and it’s fucking hard. I was a victor for all my life, and now I don’t even know who I am.»

That actually makes sense. If you live all your life in a certain way, it’s hard to change even for the better. But you wish he just told you.

«Haymitch, I was your maid, I was your tribute, I was your friend before. I know you, and I knew what I was dealing with when I decided to begin this relationship. But I love you. I love you when you are brooding and when you don’t like people and… we all have issues, we all made mistakes. To be fair I thought you had a strange behavior these days. Loving you was not a choice, but if I could have a choice I would love you again and again for the rest of my life.»

This speech is marvelous, you admit to yourself, and you earn another kiss. Now that you can move, you come home and you go straight to your room, but only to talk, at least for now. Your first instinct is to toss him on the bed and have your way with him, you are still Daisy Pinecone and he is still fucking attractive, but you are about to be twenty six. You have to be an adult.

«Okay, cards on the table. Tell me what you tried to force.» You smile at him, and you hope the smile is welcoming.

«Living with another person it’s fucking hard. And you are not that difficult to live with, but sometimes I need… I need to be alone. Not time, space. I need some place for myself.»

«That can be arranged, I would use some space just for myself too. We can have a room just for us and a room together.»

«Sometimes I need silence. I love your voice, but I’m used to my silence. I’m not one of the people who talks when they are alone in a room, I enjoy the lack of words.»

You laugh. «I’ll be quiet.»

«Well, that’s it. I tried to force my attitude…»

«I love your brooding attitude, it’s sexy.» You kiss his protests away, «No other complaints?»

«Nope. Your turn, Sweetheart.»

You expect to be hurt, but these are reasonable demands. He needs to be alone, it’s okay. You are aware you are a cuddler, but you can look for cuddles elsewhere. Effie is always welcoming you for hugs. 

«I don’t want a small wedding. It won’t be a big wedding I assure you, but… a medium one. With all our friends and food and a big cake from Peeta. Katniss can sing. I’m doing the outfits. No cameras allowed, I promise you. But I don’t want just a toasting. I promise it will be very district, not Capitol. Is it okay?»

«Yes. Yes, of course.» He kisses your hand.

«And I want you to want it. I don’t want you to say yes because of me, if you changed your mind…» Maybe he loves you but he doesn’t want to get married. You got it granted last time, it’s not something you wanted so badly.

«I want to be your husband. I don’t care much for the ceremony, but I’ll spend the rest of my life wanting you. And I want to call you my wife.»

You blush and smile when he puts two fingers under your chin to lift it up and he gives you a sweet, sweet kiss. «You are stuck with me.»

«I thought I lost you.» You confess.

«We don’t deal well with the lack of sleep.» 

«Definitely not. Perla wanted to kill you.»

«I bet.» He snorts.

«I love you.» You whisper against his lips. «I was totally lost without you.»

The kiss grows messier and you suddenly remember it’s two whole weeks you don’t kiss him.

«I missed you so much, Sweetheart. I’m proud to be yours.»

«So proud you can dance at the wedding?» You try.

«Nope. So proud I can watch you dance and I can picture you naked the whole time.» 

You blush again - is this okay to be so affected by the man you sleep with for about a year? - and kiss him again giggling. «Rude.»

«Oh come on, don’t act like it doesn’t turn you on.»

You shove him, but then you push him on the mattress and you climb on his lap. «My love?»

«Yes?» He asks you with a smirk on his smug face.

«Show me how much you love me.»