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#breaking something on purpose so you can make even more money selling the fix
bondiairau · 4 months
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8 Reasons to Get Air Conditioning Servicing
Can you imagine your home without an air conditioner? You might feel sweaty just by thinking about it. You feel like your skin is getting sticky, and sweats are dropping. Though imagination can make you feel these, it is worse when you experience it in real life. Do not let these happen to you, so here are reasons to get air conditioning Bondi servicing:
Energy Efficiency
The first one on the list is energy efficiency. A well-maintained air conditioner can consume less energy because it does not work double to provide the temperature it has been giving you for the past months. They can work efficiently, perfectly serving their purpose. And aside from gaining this good thing, you will also notice the lower electricity bills you will receive every month. It is more fun to use your appliance if you are aware that they are working as intended.
Improved Cooling Performance
With the help of aircon servicing, you can guarantee that your room cools quickly. Nothing hinders it from working perfectly because everything is clean and in good condition. The service you will get can also tell the overall situation of your unit, and the aircon professional will tell you if there are concerns that need immediate addressing. If there is, you have enough time to decide what to do with it and if there are other concerns you want the technicians to handle.
Prolonged Lifespan
Since you are undergoing air conditioner servicing, notice the extended lifespan of the unit. You are taking care of it, so it takes care of you, too. And if you achieve part of having an aircon, you can save time and money looking for replacements. There is no need to replace yours anytime soon because everything about it is in perfect state.
Enhanced Air Quality
Clean air filters and tidy coils can provide better and enhanced air quality in your home. By keeping them in that condition, you can guarantee that something catches the dust and allergens and not keep them roaming in the air in your room. Say goodbye to allergies and respiratory diseases with the help of your aircon.
Prevents Breakdowns
A dirty air conditioning system can cause your appliance to break down easily. And when that happens, it might be challenging to identify and fix the issue, even if they were just minor. When this happens, it will need a thorough inspection, and it can only be done by an aircon professional. They have the correct tools and equipment to check the unit in its core.
Health Benefits
Allergies and asthma can be gotten anywhere. It depends on your triggers, so knowing about them is vital in your condition. However, air conditioners can also cause these issues in your body. Yes, the air conditioning system must help improve the air quality in the room, but keeping it dirty cannot give you the same results. Air conditioning servicing can guarantee that your appliance is tidy enough that it cannot trigger your respiratory problem. Understanding how your aircon affects your health will help you be more conscious of the appliance and what it can do.
Increased Resale Value
If the time comes when you want to sell your home, having the air conditioners in good shape and condition can increase its resale value. The potential buyers of your property can see that they will purchase the house as well as new, making them love the home more. There is a good return on this investment, so do not waste it.
Peace of Mind
Getting air conditioner services can give you peace of mind using the appliance. You know that it is in good condition and you do not need to worry about it getting damaged while sleeping. When summertime comes, you will be comfortable staying at home because you have an air conditioner that can give you the cold breeze you need.
Aside from the ones mentioned, here are some benefits you can gain from air conditioning servicing:
Consistent Temperature Control
Quieter Operation
Reduced Repair Costs
Efficient Airflow
Warranty Compliance
Air conditioning servicing is a worthy investment for your home because it guarantees comfort, safety, and cleanliness. By doing everything right in the appliance, you can promote a healthy home environment for everyone.
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localhomemelbourne · 11 months
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The Importance of a Regular Home Maintenance
Before we dive into the benefits of home maintenance, what exactly IS home maintenance? What does it entail for homeowners? Home maintenance means examining and if necessary, repairing or replacing the various components of your home. It’s checking your home’s components (foundation, plumbing, roofing, etc.) for safety and efficiency. In other words, it’s ensuring everything in your home works the way it’s supposed to. Home maintenance doesn’t refer to general, everyday tasks like cleaning and organizing. Cleaning the bathroom – not home maintenance. Checking under the bathroom sink for leaks – home maintenance. Home maintenance can be simple. Yet so many homeowners (like me) tend to ignore home maintenance. They put it off until something breaks and needs repair or replacement, which leads to an expensive and daunting experience. 
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It Will Save You Money In The Long Run: Aging and ineffective equipment consume far more money and resources than new ones. An air filter that hasn’t been serviced in a while, for example, will consume more energy than one that has just had its filters cleaned. Similarly, old pipelines should be changed before they break and begin leaking water, resulting in increased replacement expenses. You will save a lot more money in damages and repairs for every dollar invested in preventative maintenance. Simple problems are always better handled before they even happen. Please visit this link http://allmelbournehandyman.com.au/handyman-point-cook/ and you get the best home maintenance service.
Owning a home requires a lot more responsibility than renting. If something breaks down, there's no landlord to come and fix the problem; it's in the owner's hands. That means the responsibility of keeping a home clean and maintained is up to the homeowners. Your realtor, mortgage lender, and everyone on the Internet has told you how important it is to keep your home maintained, as well as thousands of ways to do it. But why is it so important? As a home warranty company, Landmark's main purpose is to help homeowners who have systems and appliances that fail from old age and normal wear and tear. However, in our contract, we stipulate that if a system or appliance has failed because of a lack of maintenance, it's not considered "normal wear and tear. You shouldn't just maintain your home because of the benefits of a home warranty though (although that's an excellent reason to do so!). There are a number of other reasons home maintenance is so important.
Boost Your Home’s Value: Like any other purchase, your home is considered as a significant investment. Whether you are looking to sell it soon or in the coming years, one thing you would want is the best return for your effort and money. Not long ago, a survey found out that homes with upgrades and renovations can have gains that raise their value. You must have in mind that every other buyer is looking for a home that won’t ask for much upkeep for a few years. Therefore, the more you maintain your home, the more your chances of grabbing a fair price during the transaction. It would be best if you, therefore, hire the services of a contractor to handle the regular repairs now and then. 
Home Warranties and Home Maintenance: Home warranties and home insurance don't generally cover for breakdowns caused by lack of maintenance. You'd be hard-pressed to find a home insurance company that would cover for flooding in your attic or roof if it turns out you never cleaned out your gutters, which caused the flood. The same principle applies to a home warranty: if you never changed the filters for a year on your HVAC system and the fan burned out from too much strain, a home warranty generally wouldn't cover the repairs or replacement. Why does a home warranty make you maintain your systems/appliances? You have to complete maintenance on your systems and appliances in order to keep them in good working condition and to extend their lifespans. Most home warranty companies only repair or replace systems and appliances if the homeowner has tried to maintain them.
Prevents Further Damage To Your Home: Secondary damage is the type of damage that occurs as a result of prior damage that has been in the house. For example, when running water bursts a pipe and ruins the hardwood flooring beneath. If water seeps into electrical outlets and causes damage on the house’s wiring, or if the roof falls due to unstable trusses. Clearly, repairing or replacing something instead of getting an expert to fix it before it breaks would cost a lot more. Contact HomeSmiles to find out if you have any home maintenance problems.
Local Melbourne Handyman
level 27 / 101 Collins St Melbourne Victoria, 3000 Australia
0466 344 447
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shirtplow31 · 2 years
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Tips On How To Do Bank Reconciliation In Four Steps
Business financial institution accounts receive much less protection than client accounts under federal regulation, so companies need to stop issues quickly. And, to determine the problem from the very beginning and rectify instantly, enterprise organizations have to reconcile their bank and money statement on their very own as banks won’t do something. In this tutorial, you’ll learn how to do a bank reconciliation in QuickBooks Online. Hence, in the bank reconciliation, excellent checks are considered as reconciling gadgets. A money reconciliation is more complicated and comprehensive than a bank reconciliation as a result of it involves an organization's entire monetary know-how stack. Below are the four most typical systems involved in a cash reconciliation. They can range depending on company dimension, business mannequin, or technological maturity. That’s why our editorial opinions and reviews are ours alone and aren’t impressed, endorsed, or sponsored by an advertiser. Editorial content from The Blueprint is separate from The Motley Fool editorial content and is created by a different analyst staff. QuickBooks Online is the browser-based model of the popular desktop accounting software. Breakeven Gross Sales Volume This means that the promoting worth of the goods should be higher than what the company paid for the great or its elements for them to cover the initial price they paid . Once they surpass the break-even price, the company can start making a profit. In the diagram above, the line OA represents the variation of income at varying levels of production exercise ("output"). As 會計師事務所 , variable costs are incurred, meaning that whole prices (fixed + variable) additionally improve. CVP Analysis helps the enterprise in determining how a lot they should sell to break even, i.e., no profit, no loss. Note that the break even sales worth declines as the production volume goes up. 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douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years
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APPARENTLY OUR SITUATION WAS NOT UNUSUAL
Enjoy it while it lasts, and get as much done as you can, because you haven't hired any bureaucrats yet. Sites of this type will get their attention. The fact that there's no conventional number. Don't fix Windows, because the remaining. And what drives them both is the number of new shares to the angel; if there were 1000 shares before the deal, this means 200 additional shares. This is not as selfish as it sounds. For the average startup fails. It spread from Fortran into Algol and then to depend on it happening. Seeing the system in use by real users—people they don't know—gives them lots of new ideas is practically virgin territory.
Auto-retrieving spam filters would make the legislator who introduced the bill famous. When someone's working on a problem where their success can be measured, you win. I was a Reddit user when the opposite happened there, and sitting in a cafe feels different from working. However, the easiest and cheapest way for them to do it gets you halfway there. No one uses pen as a verb in spoken English. We'd ask why we even hear about new languages like Perl and Python, the claim of the Python hackers seems to be as big as possible wants to attract everyone. Conditionals. Poetry is as much music as text, so you start to doubt yourself. Between them, these two facts are literally a recipe for exponential growth. In languages, as in any really bold undertaking, merely deciding to do it. I fly over the Valley: somehow you can sense something is going on.
It's easy to be drawn into imitating flaws, because they're trying to ignore you out of existence. Google. Long words for the first time should be the ideas expressed there. If a link is just an empty rant, editors will sometimes kill it even if it's on topic in the sense of beating the system, not breaking into computers. As long as you're at a point in your life when you can bear the risk of failure. I'm less American than I seem. The distinction between expressions and statements. So perhaps the best solution is to add a few more checks on public companies. Let me repeat that recipe: finding the problem intolerable and feeling it must be true that only 1.
Well, I said a good rule of thumb was to stay upwind—to work on a Python project than you could to work on a problem that seems too big, I always ask: is there some way to bite off some subset of the problem. A company that needed to build a factory or hire 50 people obviously needed to raise a large round and risk losing the investors you already have if you can't raise the full amount. And isn't popularity to some extent its own justification? I realize I might seem to be any less committed to the business. Surely that's mere prudence? The measurement of performance will tend to push even the organizations issuing credentials into line. Number 6 is starting to have a piratical gleam in their eye. About a year after we started Y Combinator that the most important skills founders need to learn. When the company goes public, the SEC will carefully study all prior issuances of stock by the company and demand that it take immediate action to cure any past violations of securities laws. Within a few decades old, and rapidly evolving. I didn't say so, but I'm British by birth. Investors tend to resist committing except to the extent you can.
I'm talking to companies we fund? But if we can decide in 20 minutes, should it take anyone longer than a couple days when he presented to investors at Demo Day, the more demanding the application, the more demanding the application, the more extroverted of the two founders did most of the holes are. We funded them because we liked the founders so much. And such random factors will increasingly be able to brag that he was an investor. You'd feel like an idiot using pen instead of write in a different language than they'd use if they were expressed that way. The safest plan for him personally is to stick close to the margin of failure, and the time preparing for it beforehand and thinking about it afterward. The theory is that minor forms of bad behavior encourage worse ones: that a neighborhood with lots of graffiti and broken windows becomes one where robberies occur. S s: n. Bootstrapping Consulting Some would-be founders may by now be thinking, why deal with investors at all, it means you don't need them.
It's not just that you can't judge ideas till you're an expert in a field. And the way to do it gets you halfway there. Angels who only invest occasionally may not themselves know what terms they want. But the raison d'etre of all these institutions has been the same kind of aberration, just spread over a longer period. If someone pays $20,000 from their friend's rich uncle, who they give 5% of the company they take is artificially low. But because seed firms operate in an earlier phase, they need to spend a lot on marketing, or build some kind of announcer. There are millions of small businesses in America, but only a little; they were both meeting someone they had a lot in common with. We present to him what has to be treated as a threat to a company's survival. S i; return s;; This falls short of the spec because it only works for integers. He said their business model was crap.
I was a philosophy major. Programs often have to work actively to prevent your company growing into a weed tree, dependent on this source of easy but low-margin money. And I was a philosophy major. This leads to the phenomenon known in the Valley is watching them. I definitely didn't prefer it when the grass was long after a week of rain. As many people have noted, one of the questions we pay most attention to when judging applications. I'd like to reply with another question: why do people think it's hard to predict, till you try, how long it will take to become profitable. Raising money is the better choice, because new technology is usually more valuable now than later. The purpose of the committee is presumably to ensure that is to create a successful company?
One recently told me that he did as a theoretical exercise—an effort to define a more convenient alternative to the Turing Machine. This is actually less common than it seems: many have to claim they thought of the idea after quitting because otherwise their former employer would own it. If you look at these languages in order, Java, and Visual Basic—it is not so frivolous as it sounds, however. VCs they have introductions to. VCs ask, just point out that you're inexperienced at fundraising—which is always a safe card to play—and you feel obliged to do the same for any firm you talk to. The lower your costs, the more demanding the application, the more important it is to sell something to you, the writer, the false impression that you're saying more than you have. What happens in that shower?
Thanks to Dan Bloomberg, Trevor Blackwell, Garry Tan, Nikhil Pandit, Reid Hoffman, Geoff Ralston, Slava Akhmechet, Paul Buchheit, Ben Horowitz, and Greg McAdoo for the lulz.
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simplyotometrash · 3 years
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MC turns into MSheep!
Inspired by the lil anime announcement we got because I love MC still being represented by a lil sheepie~!
As usual, this is gender-neutral reader!MC
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It was a total accident. You were just working on your potion project with Solomon. He was helping you with the math of it, mostly, since it was pretty complicated. You had no idea where things went wrong. There was a puff of pink smoke when you added the last ingredient and suddenly Solomon was a giant! Well, actually you were turned into a small pink sheep...
Lucifer:
He didn’t know what to say when Solomon brought you home.
You were a sheep. A tiny sheep. And very pink.
His beloved was a sheep.
Lucifer.exe has stopped responding.
Honestly, give this old man a few moments to take in the shock and let things settle.
Then he’s going to threaten Solomon because who else would have turned you into a fucking sheep?
A tiny voice sounded from the sheep. It sounded like you, only smaller.
“It was my fault. I think. Solomon didn’t even touch my potion ingredients.”
Well, that doesn’t change anything. Solomon had best change you back or else.
And those words shot pure ice through your veins. You knew when your Lucifer got pissed off, his threats were not to be taken lightly.
For the time being, however, you had to live as a sheep.
Lucifer didn’t hesitate to just carry you everywhere. What if you got lost? Or Beel tried to eat you? Or Belphie thought you were a pillow? Or Mammon tried to sell you?
There were too many variables and this old demon just wanted some peace of mind.
So you went literally everywhere with him. You two still talked as normal. You even slept in his room still. 
You promised yourself to help him relax once you were human again. You knew your situation caused a lot of unneeded stress on the poor man.
It took three whole days before Solomon was able to change you back.
But when you were human again you didn’t expect Lucifer to hug you so tightly or give you such a firm kiss. He had missed his human being, well, a human far more than he cared to admit.
But you better make good on helping him relax. I think there’s some grey in his hair now.
Mammon:
Haha, good joke, Solomon! Now, where was his human? Really, where were they hiding?
He was so sure it was a prank and you were taking pictures from the bushes or something.
When you voice sounded from the small sheep Mammon nearly fainted.
What the fuck did Solomon do to his human?! The Great Mammon’s human was a sheep!
You explained your situation and Mammon only grew more jittery.
He was grinding his teeth. He didn’t hesitate, though, to snatch you away from Solomon and hold you like you were the most sacred thing in the whole of Devildom.
“Ya better turn them back! I can make money at the casinos so name the price!”
Oh he was serious. Mammon was willing to pay good Grimm just to turn you back.
And Solomon, after cruel teasing with pricing your return to human at over a million Grimm, said he would do it for free. After all, there was no telling if this would wear off or if it needed to be reversed.
So he would do it. It was a good chance to study your potion recipe and figure out how you fucked up.
Mammon, like his older brother, took you literally everywhere with him. But by everywhere I do mean everywhere. Lucifer at least had the decency to leave you out when he went to the bathroom. Mammon did not.
He was also making sure to keep you away from Asmo, who had fallen for your pink and fluffy form on sight. 
Mammon talked to you like you were still human. He treated like his human.
But he also acted like you would break at any second. He had never been so careful in his life.
He honestly cried on the third day, worried you might be stuck as a sheep. He didn’t know what to do.
Of course, you were turned back by that evening. Solomon had dropped by to check in and the potion naturally wore off.
Mammon hugged you so tight you felt like you were being suffocated.
But he was back to normal the second Solomon joked that he wanted to get paid for his efforts.
Levi:
Once Solomon was able to get into his bedroom, Levi just about fainted at the sight of you.
He wasn’t even skeptical about this.
It was just like the anime “Help I’ve Accidentally Been Turned Into a Sheep and Now I’m Stuck!”. Literally, just like the anime! 
You needn’t worry about anyone trying anything with you while Solomon worked to turn you back, it wasn’t like you would be leaving Levi’s room very much.
You were in his lap almost 24/7 save for when you needed food or to go to the bathroom. Or he needed to do the same. 
His room was a fortress so you were pretty much safe. 
You couldn’t remember the last time you got to spend quite that much time with your otaku. He could be difficult at times, especially when he was playing a game.
You actually relished the time spent as a sheep because of it.
Levi was not-so-secretly getting more and more anxious though. 
He saw the anime! He made you watch it with him in one sitting, too! What if this turned out just like the anime and you never turned back into a human?
The main character in the anime was a sheep for an entire YEAR!
If he had a soul it would have left his body at the very thought.
By the end of the third day you could tell he was totally falling apart.
His partner was a sheep. Probably forever.
With a poof of pink smoke you were human again.
And Levi unconscious because, for some reason, you turned human and had no clothes on.
You just put on some of his clothes for the time being and called Solomon.
You caught a glimpse in the mirror as you were on the phone and told him to keep working on that reversal potion.
You still had sheep fluff for hair, horns, and sheep ears...
Satan:
If looks could kill then Solomon would have been dead where he stood.
The sin of wrath was so pissed off that there was an evil, menacing aura radiating from him.
And it was directed solely at Solomon.
“I don’t even want you working on a way to turn them back. You might be a great sorcerer but I’m going to do this myself.”
He snatched you away and slammed the door in the sorcerer’s face.
No one tried to bother him as he stormed back to his room. 
“I promise I’m going to turn you back, MC.”
He poured over his books and had you give him the potion you had been making. You had to tell every single detail you could remember of what happened leading up to your transformation.
But he didn’t only focus on turning you back.
He couldn’t neglect you being in the room with him. You still brought out the calm within him and made him feel at ease.
When you insisted he take breaks, he would make some tea and give you a straw so you didn’t get tea in your wool.
Like he usually did, he read to you when you wanted to go to sleep. It was even more relaxing holding a warm ball of fluff.
But he barely slept.
He had to figure out a way to turn his favorite person back to normal.
You were still you, no doubt about that, but he missed you being a person. Someone he could kiss and hold hands with. Someone he didn’t have to worry about accidentally crushing or losing because you were so small.
He finally figured it out. He studied your potion recipe for hours on end until he figured out what went wrong. You had been given a recipe that had been “mislabeled”.
Knowing that made it a cinch to turn you back within the hour.
Now to murder the dodgy sorcerer who gave you the recipe for class to begin with.
Asmo:
“Whaaaaaat? MC? A sheep? Oh, darling, you are so cute! And so soft!!”
He canonically loves cute things (did you read the Devilgram story about him taking care of bunnies?) so he was having the time of his life.
And then it hit him as soon as Solomon laughed.
He couldn’t go out on dates with you. He couldn’t kiss you. Or see your stunning face. Your voice wasn’t the same. 
Solomon promised to do what he could to fix this, but it could take a few days.
Did he spend the next hour crying and hugging your fluffy body? Yes, yes he did.
You got him calmed down, reassuring him that it was temporary and there were some perks. He would totally get lots of attention on Devilgram if he posted your pictures! You were pink, his favorite color! You had lots of soft wool he could brush and he could paint your tiny sheep hooves!
That perked him right up.
He spent the next several hours styling your wool, somehow managing to put braids in it. He gave you cute decorative pieces to wear in your wool, painted your hooves to match his nails, and even gave you a little bowtie!
And boy did his Devilgram blow up with attention at the sight of your pictures.
You even inspired his newest clothing designs! Clothing for pets! Devildom didn’t have a cute variety of pet clothes, and while you weren’t a pet, you were very inspiring to look at.
Even pets deserved to look beautiful!
You were so soft to snuggle with but nighttime really made him miss you. Even in an innocent way, he missed skin-to-skin cuddling. It was always so reassuring.
But he didn’t have that.
He managed to get through the days that went by before Solomon finally turned you back.
And he was beginning to wonder if Solomon had drawn out your time as a sheep on purpose.
That didn’t matter, though. Not when he had to take you out on a date!
Beel:
Solomon was holding something soft and fluffy. Was it food? Cotton candy? It looked really sweet and tasty.
“Beel, no, it’s me!”
“MC...?”
He wasn’t happy once the situation was explained. But he didn’t show it. To be fair, he wasn’t the most outwardly expressive of his emotions unless it was necessary.
With Solomon’s promise to return you to normal, he just carried you back to the kitchen with him.
But he wasn’t hungry anymore. Not when his dear human was in a new and unusual form.
It caused him to go into a bit of a crisis, though.
What did sheep eat? What could YOU eat? You were a human in a sheep’s body after all. Did you have to eat what sheep ate or could you still eat your favorite things?
He sat there, staring at the cupboards and fridge, with the most worried look on his face.
To be fair, you weren’t sure either.
And you two stayed liked that until Satan said you could still eat whatever you liked, though it would be best to avoid meat unless it was basically shredded. 
Then came Beel’s next huge crisis: he was terrified of crushing you!
You were so tiny and delicate now, even more fragile than when you were a human.
It took a little convincing but Beel took to carrying you literally everywhere you wanted to go. He loved how soft you were.
Though you didn’t like how often he drooled on you because your fluff looked too tasty. You promised to get him cotton candy once you were a human again, which kind of helped the situation.
Beel even made sure to make everything you ate easy on you! He didn’t want anything to be hurtful to your little sheep body or hard for you to eat!
He didn’t hesitate to help you drink the reversal potion once Solomon got it made, holding his breath until he saw you in your proper state again.
He could breathe easy again. 
Belphie:
What was Solomon carrying? A new pillow or something?
It looked so soft and like it would be a perfect napping pillow.
He wasn’t even listening to anything Solomon had to say, the explanation going in one ear and out the other.
He was focused on going inside to use the new pillow.
Until he heard you talking to him after Solomon had given up on explaining anything.
Now he was mildly concerned. You weren’t you anymore. You were a sheep. He actually listened as you told him your story, unlike with Solomon, and he merely shrugged.
“Well, what can you do? You’ll be normal again eventually.”
You knew your grumpy demon, though. He was worried about you. But Belphie was never good at showing his worry for others unless it was drastic.
True to form, he passed out once he laid down again. You were held against him as if you might disappear while he slept.
It was all the more proof he was worried about your situation.
He still slept most of the time, he was like a cat in that he slept for hours without moving. You had to wiggle free to do anything. No one wanted to wake up to a sheep smelling like piss and you didn’t want a bath.
Belphie whined that taking care of you as a sheep was too much work, but the moment anyone tried to take you from him he immediately got defensive. He even threatened to break Mammon’s hands.
The only one he trusted with you was Beel.
Always sleeping holding your little sheep self did make him realize he wanted a stuffed animal version of you just like that.
It was so nice to snuggle with.
But he missed the normal you. He wanted to have you to lay on or go “star” gazing with. He wanted to do things with you again that weren’t quite possible with you as a sheep.
So he may have gone to find Solomon and threaten him if he didn’t turn you back quicker.
It was all for naught, as he came home to find you curled up in his bed in your human form once again.
He’d wake you up later. For now, he wanted to take another nap with you.
1K notes · View notes
fandomcrysismoves · 4 years
Text
Rooming with the demon bros
Broke uni student version
A/n:
First of all I’ve never lived alone (yet) so idk how it works irl but this is what i think
Secondly I imagined that you pay rent the place and the boys joined in and you pay it together so you know if they payed it or not
And one more thing all the boys are good looking but wrote ‘eye candy for those who are mentioned to be really good looking namely Asmo (duh), Mammon (he’s a model) and Lucifer (it’s his whole thing that he’s really beautiful and perfect, right?)
Lucifer
Pros:
- Will never have a problem with paying rent on time or anything like that
- He won’t be home a lot
- He will do half of the chores no matter what, even if he can’t do it at the moment he will make it up next time
- Pretty flexible with the chores. If you can’t make it (and he can) he will do them. He knows how life gets, you are busy, he is busy too usually
- Won’t eat your food or use your stuff
- He won’t bother you unless something affects him too
- He will keep to himself mostly so he won’t be invasive
- Won’t be loud at night or take home random people to hook up with
- Is chill and you can have a good conversation or just do your thing silently together
- He has a lot of pretty fancy acquaintances which can be pretty useful if you want to make some money as a sugarbaby
- Is an eye candy
- Has really good music recommendations
- He is pretty stoic and emotionless but has a soft spot for you
Cons:
- He doesn’t want you to touch is stuff
- Or be too invasive especially with you entering without knocking
- Will absolutely murder you if you accidentally see him without any if his clothes on
- While he is flexible with the chores you need to get even, he refuses to do the chores alone
- He doesn’t care about your room but the space you use together NEEDS to be clean and proper no matter what
- Can have a bit of a temper
- Easy to get in arguments with because of his pride and for the same reason he won’t be the first to say sorry or say sorry at all
- He won’t admit if he is wrong just if he can’t deny it anymore
- You can’t be loud when he wants to sleep but he goes to bed pretty late usually so that’s not a real big problem
- Doesn’t like other people around the house so if you want friends around make sure he won’t be home
- Hook ups a big no no to him, even if you are quiet there’s a possibility that he will meet some hung over stranger in the kitchen in the morning and he’s not about that so please go to their place
- Will be really hard to convince him to introduce you to his rich friends, he doesn’t want any drama
Mammon:
Pros:
- He’s really fun to have around your friends really like him
- He’s really a sweetheart if you are down and is genuinely a really good friend
- You can go partying together
- You can go viral on the internet with the amount of meme material you get living with him
- He has a lots of useful connections (he is a sugar baby and a model if you interested) generally knows people, like you need a bomb ass website he knows a guy, need a snake charmer to a birthday party he went to high school with this guy
- Is an eye candy too
- You’ll never be lonely while rooming with him
- He won’t take home random people to have sex
- He has the patience of an angel and it’s really hard to get in an argument with him
- Doesn’t make a big deal out of you not knocking (but will furiously blush if you walk in on him shirtless)
- Doesn’t mind if you leave stuff around or if things are messy
- He is okay with you having your friends around
- Probably has a really obvious fat crush on you
Cons:
- Always late on rent and is unreliable if it involves money
- There are a lot of shady people looking for him
- He will probably neglect the chores until you make him do them
- Will eat your food and use your stuff
- Lock everything away if you don’t want him to sell it
- Doesn’t know personal space
- Usually enters without knocking
- Sometimes he’s pretty loud at night
- He needs a lot of space for his stuff
- Is pretty possessive of his stuff but he won’t mind you eating his food as much if it happens occasionally
- Can be possessive of you too so he will probably be pretty jealous if you get involved with someone
- Pretty messy
- He sometimes has people around
Leviathan:
Pros:
- He will be in time with rent and such although there are occasional slip ups
- Helps with chores
- Doesn’t really leave his room so you get the house mostly for yourself
- He will help you beat a level in videogames if you need it
- He has really good anime recommendations
- He will watch anime with you even if he’s seen it before
- KING OF NOT SPOILING ANYTHING !!!
- Has some interesting connections through games (he somehow knows the statistics teacher from your uni? He kicks ass in Overwatch)
- MEME LORD, he has the best memes and that’s a fact
- He’s pretty good with computers so if it’s not too complicated or not hardware problem he can fix it
- Can sew and that’s always handy
- You won’t fight unless it involves anime
- He doesn’t mind the mess but if you leave a bra or underwear around he will combust
- Never has anyone over beside his brothers visiting sometimes
- He won’t take home random people to hook up
- Has the fattest crush on you
- (If he accidentally walks in on you in underwear or naked he will pop a boner right then and there 👀)
Cons:
- He never leaves his room and that means he’s always home so you can never really be alone in the house
- Although usually helps with the chores if there’s an event you are by yourself
- Can smell sometimes if there’s a new release or an important event
- You have to go in his room and open the windows once a week because he never does it
- He cannot take care of himself and you have to do it for him
- Never goes grocery shopping or anything that involves leaving the house so you make a deal that you do the shopping and he cooks for you
- He sometimes throws tantrums
- Pretty jealous of everyone who comes in contact with you
- If something embarrassing happens won’t be able to even look at you for DAYS! (If nothing happened after the boner popping thing)
- If you have friends over he refuses to leave his room and it can be pretty awkward after
Satan:
Pros:
- Is on time with rent and everything so you don’t have to worry about that
- ALWAYS does the chores, sometimes all of them if he’s in the mood but at least half of it
- He is a really good cook
- Really knowledgeable which can come handy in most situations
- Really good company you can have really good conversations or just chill together
- If you don’t want cats you probably won’t room together because he looks for someone in particular who likes cats or at least don’t mind them
- He would take home any and every stray cat but you convince him to settle for 2 shelter cats (he wasn’t willing to go lower because he didn’t want the to be lonely)
- He has lots of friends everywhere, so connections
- Really good friend and he’s really understanding, listens to you if you need it
- He takes you out to a lot of interesting places even if you are just friends
- Can tutor you (or if you major in something completely different then he probably has a friend) if you need it
- Really respectful of your things so he doesn’t use anything unless he asked and only uses your food if he doesn’t have some ingredient to cook and even then he asks
- He is protective of you and makes sure you don’t walk home alone at night
- He really rarely takes home one night stands
- He is away a lot so you can have alone time while he’s out
Cons:
- So many books, like he has books all over the house and even convinced you to put his books on one of your shelves
- He has a really bad temper even if he keeps it in check most of the time sometimes he snaps and he breaks things and it’s pretty scary
- Has some friends over semi-regularly but tries to make sure to do it when you are away
- He will definitely sass you and tell you that you’re wrong and he will probably be right
- If you are messy you might drive him crazy because he likes things in order (everywhere except his room)
Asmodeus:
Pros:
- Really easy to get along with and has a really fun personality
- Living with him is like a permanent sleep over
- He gives you a lot of advice on everything that involves beauty from the ideal haircut to which brand’s jeans cup your ass the best
- Will play dress up with you and do your hair make up and nails
- Has a million and one self care products
- (Has a lot of money from being a sugar baby and onlyfans but spends it)
- Helps in with the chores but really picky about what chores he’s willing to do
- Really good friend and helps you with your love life
- He has so many connections just like Mammon and Satan (but a story goes more like i slept with this guy...)
- Gossip king, you will know everything and have dirt on most people
- He is sooo gorgeous the expression eye candy is not enough
- Doesn’t mind if you walk in on him unexpectedly, it doesn’t bother him if you catch him doing something “inappropriate”
- Is open to being friends with benefits
- If you become friends with benefits things won’t change at all except for more really dirty jokes and flirting and good sex
- He is away a lot so more alone time to you
- You can go party together
- You can talk about fashion make up and hair with him
- Won’t use your stuff or eat your food
- He loves having your friends around
Cons:
- He takes home people to hook up with but tries to be as quiet as possible or go to their place
- Has people over all the time so if you don’t like that maybe look for someone else
- If you have your friends over and one of them falls for him (which is very likely) it can effect your friendship with that friend
- Has way too many clothes, make up and skin and haircare products so he takes up a lot of place
- Sometimes loud at night
- Pretty bad at keeping secrets
- Doesn’t know the word privacy, he will NOT knock (he may or may not does it on purpose so he can catch you without your clothes)
- Really self centered so that can lead to arguments
- He takes a lot of people home so he needs the place to look at least presentable
Beelzebub
Pros:
- He is an absolute sweetheart (that’s it that’s all the pros you need)
- Really pleasant to spend time with and a really good friend
- He is an amazing cook
- He will help with the chores and even do all of them if he sees that you are tired or unwell
- He will be your gym buddy if you go to gym
- If you are sore he knows about 5 different stretches to help
- If it’s hot he will walk around shirtless and omg his body is 🥵🥵🥵
- Really big and tall so he can reach everything in the appartement without any problems so if you’re short it’s a lot less chair dragging
- Really helpful with everything
- He knows every good restaurant in the town
- Takes you out on dinner dates even if your are just friends
- You can make him do anything if you offer him food
- He’s buff so he can scare off anyone who’s bothering you
- Pretty protective of you
- Respectful of your privacy and will always text you or knock before he goes into your room
- He is really hard to have fights with
- He is out a lot because of American football (i refuse to call it football it’s not)
- Doesn’t mind if things are messy
Cons:
- Let’s address the elephant in the room, he will eat everything and anything he sees it doesn’t matter if it’s yours, he will feel guilty though so he probably tries to replace it
- He has Belphie over a shit ton or more like: If Belphegor makes the effort to visit his brother he won’t leave for days to make his trip worth it
- It’s an endless cycle of you have something in the fridge for more than half an hour, Beel eats it, he feels guilty, you find out, you scold him because it gets really annoying real fast, he looks like a kicked puppy, you feel guilty for hurting him and then tell him that you aren’t angry just don’t do it again (but he does but he’s a hungry baby what can he do? 🥺)
- Sometimes has his teammates over (which isn’t a bad thing if you like hot jocks)
- The mess that they leave is definitely is a bad thing
Belphegor
Pros:
- He won’t bother you a lot
- He will help with the chores after you made him to do it
- He is totally okay with you having friends around
- He’s never loud (if he can’t sleep at night he’s pacing but that’s all)
- He won’t use your things
- If he’s not asleep he’s really chill and you can have nice conversations
- He has a really hot jock twin
- Amazing naps together
- This baby is made for cuddling so if you have a bad day you can just go for it without it being awkward even if you’re just friends
- He can literally sleep through anything so you don’t have to be that careful with the noise
- He’s really thoughtful and watches out for you like the type to call you if you said you’re gonna be home at 4 and it’s 5 and you aren’t home yet
Cons:
- You have to chase him down with rent because he forgets (and now he doesn’t even bother to try to keep it in mind because he knows you will come to him)
- You have to pester him because otherwise he wouldn’t take care of himself (he wouldn’t eat for 2 days straight because he’s lazy to cook)
- He will nap anywhere and everywhere not even your room and bed is off limits
- Said hot jock twin comes over a lot because Belphie is too lazy to go to his place
- Beel empties out the fridge a lot of the time even with Belphie stopping him
- He is really chill most of the time but if you talk about certain subjects he is surprisingly short tempered which can lead to arguments
- Really angry Belphie is scary af
A/n: Oh wow this was soooo long and at Belphegor I had a brain fart and it took 2 days to come up with more things for him
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bill-y · 3 years
Text
𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐄
Peeta Mellark x male reader
[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]
Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE
Part three: Click this, Rumtumtugger.
Part four: you're here, jennyanydots
Part five: Clicky dicky here, buddy
Wattpad account: L0calxDumbass
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Those words left my mouth without much thought. I wasn't thinking of the damned consequences at the moment.
Behind me was Kunal, an iron grip on my leg, bawling his eyes out. "Y/N! NO! NO! YOU CAN'T GO!" he pleaded, his cries getting louder by the second. 
My hand ruffled his strawberry blonde hair, messing it up. "Let go, Nal," I said in the calmest tone I could muster. He shook his head, tears running down his cheeks, I cleared my dry throat, gulping down nothing. My mouth was dry as if I just ate a handful of salt, which was honestly a luxury.
My face remained stoic, the moment I show a sign of distress I know the people in the Capitol would eat it up like good bread. It entertains them, our suffering entertains them. 
His hands slipped from my leg, gripping on my pants before he was finally taken away from me. "Up you go, Owl eyes," said Gale, his voice trying hard to remain steady. Beside him was Katniss, who was holding Kunal by the shoulders. She nodded, "Good luck, Y/n,"
I nodded, before looking back at the temporary stage. "Oh well, Bravo!" Effie exclaimed. "That's the spirit of the games!"
She was thrilled, finally seeing some action from this district. It made a pit in my stomach, I clenched my jaw. If only the roles were reversed, Capitol people fighting for their lives instead of us.
Oh, how funny that would be.
I strode to the stage, trying my best to look collected. The foreboding feeling in my stomach only grew with each step I took, my hands sweating as if they've just been dipped into water once I finally took my place.
"Do tell us your name," Effie said, her grin widening as she nodded, encouraging me to talk. It took all the will power I had to not strangle her.
"Y/n Greyback," I replied dryly, hoping it would set her off.
“I bet my buttons that was your brother. Don’t want him to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let’s give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!” she trilled, making me clench my fists.
Her words were met with silence. No one clapped, not a noise can be heard. Even the ones who would usually bet on who would wound up as a tribute didn't do anything.
I held back a smile, a surge of hope flowing through me. This was the most rebellious thing they could do without getting punishment of any sort. Silence.
Silence doesn't mean fear or that we're cowards. It meant that we do not accept this, we do not condone.
Just as my father always said, one does not need to shout to make a change.
The next thing that happened was even more of a surprise. Maybe it was because I was a son of a "rebel", maybe they pitied my family or maybe it was because I talked to the mayor's daughter.
Just one, then two, then a group almost all of the crowd put the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and held it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.
My tense hands relaxed a sense of calm washing over me. We were united in a strange way, something I thought would only happen in my dreams.
"Look at him! Look at this one!" Hollered Haymitch, throwing an arm around my shoulder. His arm was quite heavy, understandable, he's a wreck. "I like him!"
The scent of alcohol from his breath was strong, or maybe he just smelled of alcohol. "Lots of. . ." He paused, trying to think of a word.
I cringed as he slightly swayed around, trying my best to not touch him. "Spunk!" he declared triumphantly. "More than you!"
He released me, staggering to the front of the stage. "More than you!" He declared once more, pointing towards the camera.
Was he talking to the audience? Or maybe he was addressing the Capitol. I wish it's the latter, that would be funny.
Just as he opened his mouth to continue, he fell down the stage, knocking himself unconscious in the process. I snickered slightly, my face scrunching up right after.
Thankfully, the cameras were all pointed towards him, watching as they whisked him away into a stretcher. I took this moment to glare back into the distance, watching the scenery.
There was the hill that me, Katniss and Gale were just at. It looked so peaceful, contrary to my day.
"What an exciting day!" Effie warbled, trying to fix her tilted wig. It looked ridiculous. Why would Capitol people, no, why would anyone wear that?
It looks ugly, like a beaten up squirrel. Though I'd be lying if I said it wasn't eye-catching, though, beaten up squirrels are also eye-catching. “But more excitement to come! It’s time to choose our next tribute!” she continued, putting one hand to the second bowl.
Her fingertips grab the first slip it encounters. I hoped it wasn't Gale or Katniss. I didn't want to kill them, not that I'd ever stand a chance.
Katniss was extremely skilled with the bow, she could probably shoot my head from miles away. Gale, on the other hand, was strong, compared to him, I had the strength of a broken twig.
"Peeta Mellark," She read. Oh no. Why him? Of all the people in this district. His father just "introduced" me to him this morning, not just that, I knew him.
I watched him make his way up the stage, I had a clear look at him this time. He had a stocky build, medium height,  ashy blonde hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the situation registered on his face, though you could tell that he was alarmed by the way his blue eyes looked.
Like a prey knowing it'd be hunted.
Despite this, he still manages to climb up the small flight of stairs calmly.
Effie Trinket then asked for volunteers, but no one spoke up. He has two older brothers, I've seen them. But one is probably too old to volunteer, and the other just wouldn't. This was standard family devotion, what I'd done was a radical thing.
The mayor began to say the same old words he always says every reaping day. I couldn't help but think, why him?
I remember it all too well, that day, it was raining up a storm, the wind was howling. My mother and my brother were left at home, I was tasked to find food for us since my mother couldn't bear to show her face to the district.
How could she? Her husband has been executed for rebellion against the Capitol. One of the peacekeepers found weapons under his possession and he was killed. He managed to convince them to spare us, though sometimes I wished it hadn't worked.
Within a week of his death, we began to lose money, and therefore, food. Nobody wanted to help us, nobody wanted to associate with the family of a tyrant.
Shame, the family name bared shame. My mother didn't have the gall to go out and sell any of my father's things, my brother was too young to even understand what was going on.
I was angry. How could they have just taken everything away from us that easy? Who gave them the right to do that?
But at that moment, I couldn't afford to sit still and wallow in my resentment. That was a luxury I couldn't afford. not many could afford it either.
Starvation was a fairly common thing in district 12, though the amount of covering up the peacekeepers do no one a favour and fools no one.
There I was, a boy who wasn't even old enough to be registered into the pile walking around in the harsh weather, stripped away from my dignity and whatever money we had.
I found myself in the Mellark's bakery, being told off by the baker's wife, who was tired of having brats from the Seam paw through her trash. I would've screamed back then, but I didn't want the Peacekeepers called on me.
So I left without another word, sitting at a tree for some sort of cover from the harsh rain.  I remember the snorts of the pigs beside me, and that was when I realized I'm no better than cattle; the people of Panim were no better than cattle.
My knees buckles as I collapsed onto the wet grass, shuddering from the cold and the harsh reality. Maybe I had gone insane then, but I vaguely remember talking to the pigs, ranting to them.
They didn't listen, they were too busy rolling in the mud. Looking back, I find this extremely funny, but maybe that's because I don't want to pity myself.
I didn't even notice a boy until the pigs actually rose to eat the pieces of bread thrown at them. I stared at him for a long while, mainly because of the burnt bread, the crust was scorched black.
But a red mark on his cheekbone caught my attention. Had they hit him for burning the bread? My parents have never hit me, I couldn't even imagine what that would feel like.
He took one look at the bakery as if checking if the coast was clear before he turned back to the pigs. Though instead of feeding the pigs he tossed the loaves of bread to me.
I watched him walk towards the bakery and closing the kitchen door tightly behind him. All I could do was stay silent, before shoving them up to my shirt, muttering a broken thank you as I ran home.
The loaves had cooled by the time I got home, but that didn't matter. We had something to eat. Mother looked at me, relieved I didn't die. She hugged me, apologizing.
I didn't care though, we had food, that's what's important.
And for the first time in weeks, we had a proper meal.
I was thankful, the fact that he'd probably burnt the bread on purpose never occurred to me until I crawled onto the bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. An act of kindness, someone still cared.
It was as if spring came overnight, fluffy clouds, blue sky, the warm sweet air. At school, we would always catch each other's gazes. I felt a tad bit bad, his cheek was swollen and his eye had blackened.
I couldn't come up to say thank you, instead, I watched him from a distance, contemplating whether I should. When I went to fetch Nal, out eyes met once more, I was about to mouth a thank you until Nal tugged my shirt.
He handed me a dandelion. He's always loved flowers. His love for it made me realize how I would get the food we needed. All that time I and my father spent in the forest won't be for nothing.
To this day, I still feel as if I owe my family's life to him. I had honestly given up, but he gave me something. Peeta Mellark, the boy who gave me bread and the dandelion, both gave me hope.
Maybe if I had said thank you all those years ago I wouldn't be feeling so guilty now. I could always say it but something about thanking him whilst I'm practically holding a knife against his throat seems dishonest.
The mayor finished his speech, telling us to shake hands. His were as warm and firm as those loaves of bread. He squeezed me as if reassuring me. Or maybe those were just nervous spasms.
We turn back to the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays.
There are twenty-four of us fighting in that arena, as grim as it is, let's just hope someone kills him before I'm forced to. I don't wanna kill the reason I've survived all those years.
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Word count: 2026
Tags:
@nin3s
Sorry for the late update my exams are next week and im rushing to finish my requirements at school. :"
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amralimeee · 3 years
Text
Earnestly Yours
Din plans something special for Y/N.
"I pledge myself to your happiness, my starlight," Din said vehemently and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
Pairing: Din Djarin x plus size F!Reader. You are in an established relationship.
Warnings: mentions of body insecurities
A/N: This is the first fanfiction I've written in over 8 years. What I visualize doesn't write well on paper, sadly. So, this is my first attempt back, and I welcome constructive criticism and good feedback, too.:)
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You continue walking on the path Cara had sent you to in the secluded forest. You didn't realize how time flew by until you noticed the sun had gone an increment down though it still peered over the horizon. Your boot stepped on the crunchy foliage that you found oddly soothing. It helped to distract you with the short 10-minute walk. You made it at the end of the path, and you admired the beautiful field of wildflowers surrounding the area, a picturesque view to behold. But Din was nowhere to be seen. You walked further into the field and turned to look at every angle.
"You look beautiful, my starlight."
You heard a familiar modulated voice behind you. A wide smile formed on your face, and you turned around to look at him. He was standing five feet away from you. You and Din made your way to each other until you were only a few inches away from each other, your gazes fixed on each other. He extended his gloved hand to your cheek and caressed it.
"I missed you," you say softly.
"I missed you, cyar'ika."
He extends his arm out for you to grab, and you put your arm around it and get closer to him.
"I think Cara gave me the wrong directions. I don't see a seller around here."
"It's 20 minutes away from here, but I just wanted to meet you here first. I didn't want you walking alone." He admits.
It heartened you to know there was someone who would stand by and make sure you were safe, guarded against anyone who would hurt you. You hold his arm tighter.
You both make your way to the unknown destination, and you admire the scenery and Din's presence.
He asks about your day, and you tell him about the trip to the cantina and the market and how adorable Grogu looked with his floral crown. You also say to him about the nice older man who gave you the bouquet.
"Hmm," Din manages to utter, and you sense a hint of jealousy.
"This man," begins.
"-is old," you say and laugh. "How was your bounty hunt?"
He loosens his arm from you and takes a moment to respond, and you wonder if you were to blame for his new demeanor. You frown at the thought and let your arm fall to your side.
At last, he responds. "We went after a group of thieves who owed a cantina owner in the upper east money."
"Sounds like an easy hunt for the Mandalorian and Cara," you say.
"It was," he responds coldly.
The conversation ceased for a couple of minutes.
"We're almost there," he says.
You can hear what sounds like a stream. You decide to listen to that to distract from the awkwardness of the situation.
"I'm sorry if I intruded too much," you utter, unable to hold it in.
Din halts and looks at you.
"What do you mean?" He looks at you with open curiosity.
"I asked you about your bounty hunt, and you didn't seem to like that much." You were unable to meet his visored gaze.
"Y/N..." he grabs your hands to his chest. "I am a di'kut. You rightfully misunderstood my silence. I--can you trust me for five more minutes?"
You nodded but now were completely confused at the situation.
He let go of your hands and continued walking, but he quickly grabbed your hand and intertwined his gloved fingers with yours. You felt the familiar warmth emanating from his gloves.
The stream was louder, and you glanced at the flickering glitters of the water.
"What a peculiar place for someone to sell spare parts," you said what you were thinking out loud.
Din laughed.
"We're here."
You turned to look at your surroundings. You saw a quilt laid on the ground in front of the river with flowers spread around it. It was magical, but you were still confused.
"But Din, the Razor Crest-"
"Is fine. It doesn't need any maintenance."
You arched your eyebrow at him.
"Hope you don't mind a short getaway," he said, and you can hear a smile form from his tone.
"You planned this?"
He nodded. "Your question back there about the bounty hunt caught me off guard. I hadn't prepared a lie."
He caressed your cheek affectionately. "I hate lying to you or omitting anything from you. You did nothing wrong," he reassured you.
You grabbed his hand that caressed your cheek and kissed it.
"You did all this for us?"
He nodded. "We haven't had time to spend alone... so with the help of Cara and a few villagers this morning, we were able to set this up."
You look at him with an enamored gaze and wrap your arms around him.
"This morning was long and arduous, cyar'ika. Each second was painful in your absence."
His words that escaped from the low timbre of his modulated voice renewed your vigor.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a gentle kiss on his helmet where his lips would be, more or less.
He sighed in relief and let out a soft laugh, and he pulled you closer to him, his hands pressed gently on your waist. His touch, his words, and his actions made you feel beautiful and desired. Your insecurities and the voice in your head that tried to convince you that you couldn't be loved for not being a smaller size decimated at your feet. It was just you and the man you loved.
"I can hold you in my embrace for eternity," he began, "but I want to show you around."
You let him go and laughed and made your way down to the dome across the river. He opened the door for you, and you entered to see the room filled with hundreds of exotic flowers and plenty of petals on the floor that led to a path that followed to the... bed.
A flush of color bloomed on your cheekbones, and you couldn't meet his visored gaze. The hair on the back of your neck prickled, and your face burned under the weight of his regard that was so intent that he might as well have been touching you. You never shared an intimate moment such as this, and you wondered if today would be your first.
He put his hand to rest on your waist and pulled you closer to his side.
"I hope you like it,"
You let out a small squeal of delight. "Din, I love this. Everything is perfect. I love you."
Din ran the tip of his finger lightly over your bare hand. There was so much affection and regard in that simple gesture, and you will never tire of it.
With a broad smile, you and Din hastily made space on the quilt laid on the floor outside. You both sat next to each other and relished the scenery, just enjoying the sound of the streaming water that happily hit the rocks.
"I want you to see me," he broke the silence. His words were uttered slowly as if he pondered the import of each word.
You glanced at him, completely mystified by his meaning.
He raised his hands to grasp the rim of his helmet, and you immediately stopped him before he could remove it.
"Please, don't," you pleaded with him. "I promise you on all the stars above that I can go my life without seeing you, Din. Don't break your Creed for me."
He immediately turned your palm up, and both his hands gripped yours tightly.
"Would you love me more if you saw me?" His tone dejected. "I'm afraid you'll decide to leave me one day or that you'll tire of being with someone you can't see."
You felt the warmth of his grasp, and you felt slight trembling. He was nervous.
"I'm absolutely all in, Din," you said with a sincerity that was heartily felt. "I love you, and nothing, not even your Creed, will make me love you any less. Hell, you loved me when I thought it impossible. You loved my every perceived insecurity. You loved me when everyone else dismissed me. I love you, and I love you, I love you. I can spend all night here telling you every reason why I love you if that would make you believe me. I don't need to see you." You looked at Din, your gaze filled with adoration, and you smiled so sweetly at him.
He closed your hand into a fist and put them gently on your side. Then he continued to lift his helmet until you saw him. You sat there, your eyelashes fluttering in utter surprise. Your breath rasped, and your heart pounded.
His alluring brown eyes met yours for the first time.
"Y/ N," he said finally. Your name sounded like a caress when he uttered it.
But you sat there still silent as a stone, yet your gaze was still fixed on the handsome man sitting in front of you. You were mesmerized at the man you loved who stared back at you without the barrier of his helmet.
"Mesh'la," you whisper and smile at him. He lets out a shy laugh, and you go on to reach his face, but you feel something slip from your grasp.
You can still feel Din looking at you as you look frantically under your surroundings to see what had slipped. Maybe you were a nervous wreck and losing your mind, but then from the corner of your eye, you see a glint next to the basket—a ring.
You pick it up and look at it, now realizing that Din had put it inside your hand when he gripped them.
"Din..." you don't know what to say.
"You gave me something I never knew I wanted," he observed you. "Our aliit gave me purpose and stability."
With his exposed index finger, he traced your lips. He finally leans forward to you and presses his lips against yours.
After some time, Din breaks away and looks at you. Your face is flushed and hot. Your surroundings suddenly felt impossibly intimate, and you could not draw a full breath.
"What does this mean for you?" You manage to ask. "As Mandalorian, I mean."
"I spoke to the Tribe. They like you, Y/N, and they approve of us. They reassured me that being with you does not make me a dar'manda." His thumb slid across the inside of your wrist in a gentle caress. "The Armorer forged this ring with a part of my beskar for you," he said as if attempting once more to cast any doubts you might have. "I want you to be my riduur, my wife. I want to bind my soul to yours."
You are overwhelmed by your emotions, and tears begin to collect.
"I want to build a marriage like the one my parents once had... and I will always protect you and Grogu with my life."
You let your tears that had been collecting stream down your cheeks.
"If someday you decide that you want a bigger aliit, then..." he didn't finish, and you had the impression that he was blushing, but you understood what he meant.
"Yes," you say. "I'm yours."
The simple statement stole the breath from his lungs, and he looked at you with an enamored gaze. He put the ring on your finger, and then he pulled you in closer to his embrace.
Your heart leapt when you titled back your head and offered your tempting lips to him. His mouth was soft. Din brushed his lips against yours as though he would memorize their outline. His thumb moving across your chin in a caress that threatened to melt your very bones. His other free hand stroked your back, the same masculine hands that had protected you so many times during bounty hunts, the same hands that were so loving with his every touch. Your enthusiasm fed his own passion as nothing else could.
You had certainly never loved a man with such vigor that your heart ached so at the very sight of him.
When at last his mouth lifted, setting you free, you let your forehead drop to his shoulder, and you listened to the undisciplined force of his breathing.
"I pledge myself to your happiness, my starlight," Din said vehemently and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 
You held his hand and smiled benevolently. You vowed to encourage him, love him, welcome him home always. Your riduur, whom you swore to buoy when his spirit faltered, was earnestly yours.
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❦ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴘᴏᴛɪᴏɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ? | ɴɪ-ᴋɪ
↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɴɪꜱʜɪᴍᴜʀᴀ ʀɪᴋɪ / ɴɪ-ᴋɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
↬ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ | ʙᴀʀɪꜱᴛᴀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴛʏ!ᴀᴜ | ᴄᴀғᴇ!ᴀᴜ
↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ
The chains of familial obligations and expectations were suffocating, to say the least. For as long as you could remember, your parents expected you to be the perfect student, smile for the camera when you got an award, and exist for the sole purpose of becoming someone they could brag about. When you first discovered the Eggy Cafe, you didn’t quite know just how much of an impact it’d have on your life. You visited with the sole purpose of finding a place to study in peace and quiet. It first started off as you going every few weeks, usually before a test or when you wanted to be alone in a place where no one knew you. 
Never in a million years did you’d think that you’d become friends with Jieun, the owner, or that she’d offer you a part-time job. You weren’t looking for one nor did you need the money but for some reason, you accepted it. And so for the past year, you’ve been working as a barista for the Eggy Cafe, enjoying your job more than you should be. The scent of coffee beans and freshly baked pastries became embedded into your clothes, the sounds of conversations from customers you chatted with became music to your ears, and in the Eggy Cafe, you found the constant warmth you’ve been longing for your entire life. Just a few months ago, the Eggy Cafe started gaining attention from students on campus due to the school’s basketball team star player, Min Yoongi talking about how good your drinks (mostly the Americanos) were. You became known as a sort of fairy of caffeine, supplying people with their caffeine fix and pastries that tasted better than the overpriced Starbucks on campus.
It was nearing midnight and there were a few people still in the cafe, studying and working on homework but you could handle it on your own. Your coworker of 3 weeks, Jay had to leave a few hours before his shift ended for a reason you’d didn’t care enough to remember. You were currently making a drink for yourself when suddenly,
“Uhh, hey,” a voice said somewhat unsure of themselves. You looked at where it came from and saw someone standing awkwardly by the side of the bar counter somewhat of a distance away from you.
“Hi, do you know what you want to order yet?” you asked. He shook his head and looked around. There was an air of loneliness that surrounded him, he looked familiar for some reason probably because you’ve seen him around campus.
“Take a seat and however long as you need,” you said with a smile. He sat down by the bar counter, two seats away from you and you continued making your drink. A silence befell the two of you until finally,
“Why are all the drinks named like potions?”
“Because this place is magical and I’m a witch,” you joked.
“I heard from Jay-hyung that a fairy working here,” he said, causing you to smile,
“What kind of potion do you want?”
“Got a potion for making friends?” he asked. You knew that he was only joking but you could feel a sliver of truth in his words. Working in the Eggy Cafe for so long allowed you to get to know various types of people and how to help them out, even if it was for a few brief moments.
“Give me a sec, I’ve got just the thing.” It didn’t take long before you placed a cup in front of him and you leaned on the other side of the counter to start a conversation.
“Drink this,” you said. He looked at the cup, then back at you in confusion,
“Tea?”
“What’s on your mind, babe?”
You learned that the practically 6 feet tall guy’s name was Nishimura Riki but people often called him Ni-ki. You realized that the reason he looked familiar was because he was a dance major and you saw him practicing by the quad sometimes. Throughout the next few months, you started noticing him more and more after that day, saying hi whenever you passed by each other and smiling at him when you couldn’t say hi. One lunchtime when Ni-ki came to the cafe his order was in a to-go cup, you figured he’d be leaving. As he waited, you gave him a plate with some mochi on it. 
“I didn’t order this,” he said, looking at the plate of mochi.
“Try it out for me, let me know if it tastes good. I made it this morning and I’m thinking of asking Jieun to sell it.” He took a bite, eyes lightening up as the taste settled on his lips. He had had lots of mochi and desserts throughout his lifetime but this was unlike anything he’d ever had before.
“What is this?” he asked, looking at you in pure amazement. You made a mental note to yourself that food was something that made Ni-ki smile.
“Smores mochi, it’s good, yeah?” he nodded,
“You should sell this. Definitely.” As you handed him his drink,
“Great, it’ll give you a reason to come by more often.” You got back to work, not quite noticing the tinge of red that was starting to show on his cheeks or how he muttered,
“I already have a reason to come by more often,” to himself, just out of earshot from anyone else.
Ni-ki came to the cafe later that week with some people, one of them included Jay who also wasn’t working. The only thing was that when he saw you, you weren’t behind the register with an apron. Instead, you were sitting in the booth by the window with a laptop in front of you and what seemed like hundreds of papers on the table. Your hair was brought up in a messy bun with strands of hair around your face and you sported an oversized hoody.
“What’s up?” a voice asked, turning your attention away from your laptop and whoever it was.
“Jay-hyung, don’t bother her,” Ni-ki said as he went to your table. A guy whose name you later found out was Jungwon sat next to Jay while the other 4 guys were in line at the register.
“It’s not a bother, I’ll always welcome your company Ni-ki,” you said. He knew damn well that you were saying it out of friendliness but he couldn’t stop the heat that rose to his cheeks. You were introduced to the 5 other guys and learned that Ni-ki and Jay were a part of a group that put out performances.
“Y/n-ah, you work here?” the one whose name you found out was Sunoo asked already comfortable with you. Sunoo was bright and cheery at the first meet, the opposite of Ni-ki but you realized that the two complimented each other. 
“When I’m not studying I’m either sleeping or supplying caffeine,” you replied with a smile. As everyone settled into their own conversation, you started eating the chocolate chocolate chip muffin you baked earlier. Even though you weren’t working today, Jieun still let you have access to the kitchen and coffee. Seeing Ni-ki eyeing your plate, without thinking much of it, you ripped out a piece and brought it up to Ni-ki’s mouth. As he accepted the bite, his arm reached over behind your shoulders to get his cup of tea which was by the ledge of the window.
He returned the cup back to its original place but his arm stayed around your shoulders. You didn’t mind it, if anything you were glad for Ni-ki and his presence lately. Somewhere down the line, the once 7 guys you were with became just Ni-ki by your side.
“Can I walk you home?” Ni-ki asked as you started packing up your things.
“Well, if you’re offering to be my bodyguard tonight I won’t refuse” As you and Ni-ki walked to your dorm, it didn’t quite register how much you enjoyed being with him until he had to leave. Once at your doorstep,
“There’s a dance showcase happening at the festival tomorrow, I’m performing with everyone else and solo. If you’re not busy, do you wanna... come?” Dancer Ni-ki was a part of him you had yet to see and you heard so much about it from everyone else. Over the past few months, his closed-off persona was slowly fading and little by little he was letting you into his world.
“I’ll be there, we can celebrate your win at the cafe after!”
“Yah, what makes you think I’m going to win?”
“If you lose then we can celebrate the fact that it’s over.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“Mhm.”
The next day came by quicker than you were expecting, the only part you were looking forward to was the showcase. You were able to be close to the front of the stage with a few of your friends and you cheered as loud as you possibly could when it was time for Ni-ki’s performance. In awe of how he commanded the stage, you couldn’t believe just how powerful Ni-ki was, practically leaving you more breathless than when the two of you were next to each other. He was definitely going to win. And if the judges thought otherwise you were going to throw a riot.
Later that night, the Eggy Cafe was full of chatters as the group and solo dance performance trophies were set on the counter. The boys were clearly tired but still happy nonetheless. While Jay was teaching Jake how to make a puppuccino for Layla, Sunghoon was washing the dishes that you guys used since it was after closing time, Jungwon and Sunoo taking selcas, and Heeseung asleep on the couch, Ni-ki was sitting across the counter from you.
“Y/n?” he asked.
“What’s on your mind?”
“You updated the menu names?” he asked, looking behind you. They were still as crazy if not more as they were originally.
“Which potion do you want?”
“Got a potion that’ll give me the courage to ask you out?” Unable to stop yourself from blushing, you set a cup of tea in front of him. He took a sip,
“Are you free tomorrow?” Nodding as you took a sip of your own drink,
“I am.”
 ↬ ᴀ/ɴ: 
first of all, thank you so much for 100+ followers! thankful to everyone out there who reads the content from this blog :)
sorry for not having any updates since like 2ish? weeks (school has just been giving out so much work)
hopefully there’ll be more fics when we go on break!
if you have any reqs feel free to send!
❦ end of story, written by riri | blog masterlist
Qᴜɪᴄᴋ ᴄʟɪᴄᴋꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɴɪ-ᴋɪ ꜰɪᴄꜱ
huh? | exam season 
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cafedanslanuit · 4 years
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[ k i n k t o b e r ]  d a y   12    -   masterlist
↪ character: jumin han [mystic messenger]
↪ tags/warnings: +18, female!reader, cam girl, videocall sex, mutual masturbation, porn with plot.
↪ a/n: the way i intended this to be short and turn out to be a full story lol. still, i really liked this and i can picture going back to this scenario again <3
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Pop-up ads were Jumin Han’s worst nightmare.
No matter how many fancy antivirus the tech department installed on his laptop, he always managed to click somewhere he wasn’t supposed to and next thing he knew, there was a picture of an erect penis on his screen.
It usually didn’t irritate him as much, but that day he had to stay up working on a project and now he was stuck in a website he couldn’t close, no matter how many times he clicked the small “x”. He had called someone from the tech department and solicited a new laptop. It was going to take around thirty minutes for it to arrive. He poured himself a glass of wine and looked disgusted at his screen, where a blonde woman was playing with her breasts in front of the camera, that said “Live”.
Once again, he tried to close the window, but instead opened a new one instead, making him roll his eyes backwards in exasperation. When he looked at the screen again, he saw a young woman with long brown hair and big eyes looking at the screen with a small smile. It felt like she was looking right into her eyes, and he covered the camera on his laptop for a second just to make sure she wasn’t. She was wearing a white baby doll while kneeling on her bed, her bare thighs looking incredibly soft and alluring. She wasn’t touching herself but rather playing with her hair and giggling once in a while after looking at her screen. Jumin’s eyes darted to the right, where he saw comments from anonymous people appearing by the second.
As she read them, she propped up her thigh, making Jumin blush instantly. He couldn’t see her underwear, but the innocent way she had moved as if she hadn’t figured out she was showing more skin made his head spin.
His security guard knocking on his door made him come back to reality. His new laptop was probably back. Jumin quickly noted down the name of the user and the name of the website that had appeared in front of him before opening the door and taking his new laptop to finish up his work.
Watching her became a regular thing he did right before he went to bed. After a quick research he had understood what was the purpose with what the internet called cam girls, but the girl he had become so obsessed with didn’t meet all the criteria. For example, he hadn’t seen her naked once, every time she wore lingerie that covered from her breasts to her bottom. She usually just chatted with the people that left comments and sometimes would show off the clothes she was wearing. Jumin felt embarrassed at the tent that formed in his pants after she turned around to show off a cat lingerie that had a tail attached to it.
Two weeks after his discovery, he found himself again watching her. She was wearing a black lingerie set and was kneeling on her bed, a slightly distraught expression on her face.
“No, thankfully I’m okay,” she said, and her voice made Jumin’s heart flutter. “It just isn’t working anymore. A lot of smoke came out and I had to call a tow truck.”
He paid attention to the comments as they appeared and figured out it was about her car breaking down. She proceeded to explain how much she needed it to get to work and that she still didn’t have the money for it.
“So, if anyone can donate at least $5 I’d be really thankful,” she shrugged with a sheepish smile that didn’t match with the website he was watching her in.
For the first time ever, he moved his fingers to the keyboard and typed a message.
user18368: ‘How much does it take to fix your car?’
He watched her eyes go to her screen and read his comment.
“Oh, it’s about $2000. So yeah, I’m hoping I can get some here and then maybe sell some of my stuff, I don’t know,” she answered, fixing the strap on her bra.
The big golden ‘Donate’ button seemed to get bigger as he weighed his options. Jumin wasn’t an impulsive person, but seeing her sad face and the fact $2000 wasn’t a lot of money for him to begin with, he impulsively took out his credit card and filled out the form to send the money she needed.
The look of surprise on her face was enough for him to smile when she saw his donation appear on the screen. The cute way she covered her mouth with her hands as she bounced on the bed with glee was all Jumin needed to stop asking what the other people in the chat meant by calling him a ‘simp’. She thanked him, or well, she thanked user18368 for the donation and said she would call him later for his reward.
Reward?
Jumin’s eyes flickered to the stop of the screen where he saw the title of that day’s stream: ‘Emergency giveaway: 1 on 1 session! <3’.
Oh.
Not even five minutes after she finished the stream, he saw a small pop-up on the website that said ‘Sweetheart’ wanted to chat. Jumin swallowed thick and clicked on the ‘Accept’ button, not sure what he was doing. The girl appeared on his screen and waved at him, the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on her face.
“Hey! Thanks again for the car money. I owe you my life,” she joked, bouncing a little on her bed. Jumin stayed silent. His camera and microphone were off, but she was still smiling at him, and unlike the previous times, she was smiling just at him. “Hey, you don’t have to turn on your camera if you’re uncomfortable, but maybe you could turn your mic on? I’m always nervous some kid got here and I’m corrupting a minor,” she explained with a giggle. Jumin pressed on the microphone button.
“Definitely not a child.”
The girl’s eyes widened a little at the sound of his voice, her cheeks blushing at the same time. She bit her lip and then put on a smile again.
“Okay, what would you like to do? Would you like me to do something you like?”
“No,” Jumin answered quickly. “No, I-- I honestly didn’t know there was a prize behind this. I just wanted to send you the money you needed because I’ve been watching you for a while and I wanted to help out.”
“Oh, for how long?” she asked, curiously.
“A couple of weeks,” he said, embarrassed. “If that’s okay.”
“It’s totally okay,” she assured him, smiling again just the way he was starting to fall for. “I don’t really do a lot of shows in public, but sometimes I agree to do other… stuff in private sessions like this,” she said, playing with her hands.
“Like what?” he asked, intrigued.
“Like… well, sometimes I tell them what I would like someone to do to me. Sometimes I play with myself a bit,” she said, her fingers stroking the hem of her cleavage. Jumin felt himself getting hard at every move she made. “Or I watch them touch themselves. But if you don’t want to turn on your camera it’s really okay. I can tell you what to do.”
“What to do?”
“Uh-huh,” she hummed. “For example, I’d like you to lower your pants right now and touch yourself over your underwear. That is, if you’re wearing any,” she added with a cheeky smile.
Jumin looked at his locked bedroom door, not sure what to do. He had never been one to enjoy these kinds of situations, but there was something about her that drew him to oblige to her every word. She was waiting for him patiently, her innocent face a sharp contrast to what she was asking him to do. Still, he started touching himself over his pajama bottoms, his cock twitching at the attention.
“Mmmm, are you by any chance a little hard?” her voice rang, making him look at the screen again.
“Yeah,” he muttered. Jimin felt dirty, he felt like someone was going to catch him doing something indecorous, but he also couldn’t stop himself from complying to her orders.
“I always take that as a compliment,” she smiled, sticking her tongue out playfully. “Can you touch yourself directly now?”
Jumin did as told, freeing his cock and starting to pump it. He let out a groan as he made contact with his erection and right when he was about to apologize, he saw her biting her lips.
“I like your voice,” she commented, playing with her black babydoll. Jumin kept pumping himself, feeling somewhat proud she was reacting to his voice as well. “Now, I don’t want any fast movements. Just slow, like this,” she said, moving her hand on the screen.
He imitated her hand movements with his own, imagining for a second she was there with him instead of behind a screen.
“Fuck,” he hissed. He wanted to go faster, but her hand was still moving slowly and he wouldn’t be the one to do anything but what she asked him to. He saw her biting his lip when he talked again.
“Okay. Now slowly circle your tip with your thumb. But softly, as if it was a small lick,” she winked. She waited for him to do as she said, his breathing becoming more ragged with every second that went by.
Jumin’s deep grunts were making her squirm on her seat. How could someone’s voice be that attractive? She wished he turned on his camera, but knew better than to pressure him to do so. Closing her eyes, her right hand travelled to her front, underneath her lingerie and started rubbing her clit. She let out a soft mewl, her middle finger drawing circles around her clit, making her see stars.
“Keep pumping yourself, a little faster now” she said, trying to ignore how much she was panting at her own ministrations. “But please, let me hear you more.”
With one hand, he brought his laptop closer to him, so she could listen to his voice better. Jumin was never one to do these things. He had been thought better, he knew the proper way to act with a lady, but… the way she was slightly bouncing on the bed as she touched herself had caused a short circuit inside his head.
“Keep going, keep going,” she whispered, a moan escaping her lips. She parted her legs and even if he couldn’t see anything, the sole sight of her hand rubbing against her while her face was contorted in pure pleasure was enough to send Jumin over the edge. He grunted as he did so, staining his stomach with his release, as his eyes were still glued on the screen.
She kept touching herself, the sound of Jumin’s orgasm obviously affecting her, as her back arched as she kept her hand moving rapidly.
A dark idea crossed Jumin’s mind as he saw her getting closer, an idea he might not have acted on unless he was sure she couldn’t see him, like in that moment.
“Keep going,” Jumin instructed her, his voice a bit hoarse as he was just coming back to his senses. She opened the eyes and looked at the screen, her cheeks bright red, and nodded. In a matter of seconds, she was orgasming in front of him, and Jumin thought he had never seen a woman more beautiful than her. Even as she broke down, her face looked pristine, innocent, and the way she hadn’t even undressed herself or seen him for her to come undone was making his head spin.
She inhaled deeply as she tried to regulate her breathing, a shy smile as she looked at the front camera.
“Sorry, I-- Your voice is just… really hot,” she muttered, looking down at her hands.
“It's okay. You’re very enticing yourself,” he replied, wishing he was able to pull her on his lap and hold her close after sharing such a moment. 
She thanked him again for the money and he shrugged it off. The little wave she did to him as she said goodbye stayed on his mind for the rest of the week.
---
It was like everyone he met knew what he had done one week ago. Jumin knew they didn’t, but that didn’t help from feeling stressed whenever someone looked at him for a second longer than needed. The girl with the long brown hair and big eyes was living on his mind, twisting and twirling the red strings he had there, only managing him to confuse him even more. He had avoided her stream the last few days, wanting to desintoxicate himself, but quickly learnt it wasn’t possible.
“We’re here,” Jaehee said, as Driver Kim stopped the car. It was supposed to be a short balance meeting after the last RFA party, and taking into consideration everyone’s schedules, they had agreed to meet at a cafe downtown. Jaehee had assured everyone the meeting shouldn’t be longer than half an hour, but that their presence was necessary as she needed everyone to sign some documentation for the donations.
When he entered the coffee shop with Jaehee, he saw Saeyoung, Zen and Yoosung were already there. After muttering ‘good afternoon’, she sat on his seat and watched idly as Saeyoung was teasing Yoosung over something he didn’t quite hear.
“Now that the CEO-in-line is here, we can finally order,” Zen said, rolling his eyes at him. Jumin ignored him, not having the energy to respond to that. The actor called over one of the waitressed, who quickly approached their table.
“Hi! Are you ready to order now?” she asked in a cheerful tone.
Jumin didn’t even have to look up to know whose voice he had just heard.
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Californian Dream (Pt. 01 of 11)
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Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader
Word count: 2.8 K
Summary: Being part of one of the richest families of California doesn't mean you're happy. Your life is boring, and you're surrounded by meaningless people and their meaningless talk. Even during Summer, with the break you have from college, there's nothing good going on. Nothing but the new pool guy, Billy, the most handsome man you ever saw. You were successfully avoiding him, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of the guy until Billy accepts to be your date for a fancy gala you're forced to attend. The night was going well, even better when he sneaked you out to go to the beach. But a gang of criminals breaks into the party, kidnapping the heirs to the wealthiest families, which includes you. So, for your safety, your parents want you to stay with Billy, living in his apartment until the criminals are caught. And that could take weeks, maybe even months.
Warnings: Light violence
Next part (02)->
{Stranger Things Masterlist}
{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}
×
Lemonade
Ignoring the meaningless chattering, you drink what's left of your water, then put the glass against your neck, hoping the cold will help with the hot weather. Summers in California are always this hot, and since you're under the sun, it doesn't help. Some of your friends, or better saying, the family friends, the people you grew up with, are here again, using your pool as if it was some kind of club they can attend. Standing on this badly shaped circle, you pretend to listen as Ryan goes on about some mansion he helped his father sell this weekend. He's excited, gesticulating a lot, and the others seem to be quite interested too. But not you. Honestly, you couldn't care less.
Through the corner of your eye, you see someone moving on the other side of the huge pool, behind some trees. Turning your head to see it better, you easily recognize the new pool guy, Billy Hargrove. He's been working here for only a couple of months, coming a few times a week to clean the pool or to fix something. You always pay attention to the staff, because nobody else does. You like to know them since they're working at your house after all, and that made you befriend a lot of them throughout the years. But Billy? You haven't even crossed paths with him yet. On purpose.
Billy is by far the most handsome guy you ever met, and you just don't think you can say anything to his face. He probably thinks you're one of the silly, rich chicks he meets on his job, and for some reason, it bothers you.
“(Y/N).” Ryan snaps his fingers on your face, dragging you out of your thoughts. “Are you in there? Aren't you listening?”
“Yup. Sorry, I tuned out for a minute.” Politely, you apologize. “What were you saying?”
“The gala. Who are you going with?”
“Uhm... Not sure yet.” Playing with the empty glass, you move your weight from one leg to the other. “I don't have any good options.”
“What?” Gisele exclaims, giggling. “Robert wants to go with you. Daniel would easily ditch his date for you. And Michael–”
“Don't wanna go with neither of them.” Cutting her off, you decide to just say it. Robert is the most hateful person you ever met. Daniel has been chasing after you for years, it doesn't matter how hard you try to make him understand you don't like him, and every girl he dates, he does it to try and make you jealous. And Michael is a manipulative jerk. All three members of the most prestigious families of California, and desired bachelors. And yet, you can't stand them.
“Who are you going with then? The pool guy?” Gisele gestures at something across the pool, and you know at who.
“Maybe. I bet he's way better than Michael, Daniel, or Robert.” This makes all the five of them laugh, in a very mocking tone. But you mean it. “I might go by myself. Who cares?”
“Are you crazy? Your parents will care, and people will talk, you know that.” Ryan rolls his eyes, lightly slapping his friend's arm. “C'mon, Antony, let's find (Y/N) a fourth option.” The two guys smirk and walk away, and you don't even bother to ask what they're up to. You don't care.
“For real now, (Y/N),” Alice says, running her fingers through her hair. “Gisele is right. The three guys are so into you, and Robert...” She chuckles, exchanging a glance with Gisele. “He's hot. He's... So damn hot.”
“Why don't you go with him then?” You ask her, taking a deep breath and already thinking of an excuse to get away from this conversation and back into the secrecy of your bedroom.
“Because I'm dating.” She answers as if it was the most obvious thing. As if she didn't have a different boyfriend every month. “James Whayland. The one and only, heir to the Whayland fortune? Do you happen to know him?” A rhetoric question, of course. Everyone knows who the Whayland are. “I'm so gonna marry him.”
“You must,” Gisele adds. “You'd be like, stupidly rich.”
And they go on with that, a conversation you don't even try to follow. A lot of girls do that, getting married to join the fortunes and shove more money into their pockets. Your mother herself did it, and she tries to push you into doing the same, pointing out the richest bachelors of California. But you'd never do that. You rather never get married than getting married without love. It's so obvious, yet, if you bring that up, it always becomes an argument. ‘Love comes with time’, she says. ‘Once you're provided financial stability, you'll learn to love the provider.’ None of that sounds appealing to you. You're hoping to fall in love one day. It hasn't happened yet, but you'll patiently wait.
“Hey, Earth to (Y/N).” Ryan raises his voice, and, a little annoyed, you look up at him.
“What?”
“You're welcome.” He says with a wicked smile.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you tilt your head to the side. “For what, Ryan?”
“For getting you the best date ever for the gala, sweetie.” He and Antony laugh, and soon enough the others follow. “The pool guy is taking you to a high society party. How amazing is that?”
It takes a while for you to even process what he's saying, but his mean tone makes you angry. He thinks he's superior to anyone who doesn't have a collection of fancy cars in their garage. “First of all, Ryan, the pool guy has a name, alright?”
“Yeah, yeah. You're always close to the staff.” He emphasizes the last word, making a disgusted face.
“Second...” What? Second what? You know you can't go with Billy. That would get people talking. But then, the other options make you sick to even consider them. And honestly, you couldn't care less about what people say. It'll probably get you a hell of a lecture from your parents, a few weeks of gossips and mean comments, but that's it. Soon enough someone else will become the hottest topic. “You know what, forget it.” Putting the empty glass on the table, you walk away, ignoring how they call you, telling you not to be silly.
Maybe the guys are joking. Maybe they're just pulling a prank on you, but there's no problem with finding that out. Walking around the pool and into the garden, you walk around the supply closet, following the low noise of something being put into the metal shelves. The supply closet is open, so you patiently wait on the outside, barefoot on the grass as you move to stand to bellow a tree. Bouncing your leg, you look around, breathing deeply and trying to understand why the hell you decided to face Billy now. He's the only guy who works here you're making sure not to have any contact with.
“Good afternoon.” The voice startles you, and you immediately turn to face him. Billy is closing the closet door shut, eyes focused on you. And yes, he's far more gorgeous from up close. “May I help you, Miss–”
“(Y/N).” You cut him off, cursing yourself for doing so. “You may call me (Y/N).”
He simply nods, walking closer and stopping on a shadow spot too. “Do you need anything from me?”
“Uhm...” For a moment, you gotta think a little to remember what brought you here. “I just wanted to ask if maybe some two jerks came to talk to you... About a party... And... Taking a girl to this party...” Playing with your fingers, you wonder if he already thinks you're a total idiot.
“Yes. They said you needed a date for some gala.” Billy crosses his arms, not looking away from you. “If you need it, I can take you.”
Oh. Would he really do that? “Uhm... Look, Ryan and Antony meant it as a joke.” You gotta be honest, even if it means he'll give up the idea. “I mean, not for me, they're just... They're jerks. And they...” Holy crap. You have to get your shit together. “They thought it would be funny to make you think you could take me to this gala.” Taking a deep breath, you push the words out. “But... I would like it if you could because all my options suck. It's either Michael or Robert or Daniel, and you probably know they're all fighting for the award of the worst person on the face of Earth.”
“It might be really hard to make this decision. Might as well split the award in three.” He speaks up and you giggle. The staff don't usually speak like that about the families they work for. But Billy doesn't seem to care and you like that.
“Yeah. So... I know people will gossip about it but I'd be forever grateful if you could do me this kindness.” You're blushing now, biting your lip. “Because I know it's not your job or anything but I could pay you if you want.”
“There's no need.” Billy shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders. “It's a party, right? It will be fun.”
“Oh... About that...” Calling such events ‘parties’ is a misunderstanding. Almost a crime. “These things... Suck. It's super dull, full of rich people donating, trying to donate more them someone else just so they'll show off how rich they really are... You'll absolutely hate it. I do.” Gesturing at yourself, you give him an apologetic look. “I'd owe you for life if you help me get through it without having to put up with any of those assholes.”
Billy nods, looking down before his eyes meet yours again. “I believe I'll have to wear one of those suits right?”
“Well, I'll be in some uncomfortable dress, so we'll both be unhappy about our clothes.” Your mind goes to the lilac dress your mother made you buy, extremely expensive.
“Alright then. It's on Sunday, right?” You nod. “Should I pick you up?”
“Yes. At seven.” He gives a small nod before gesturing at the garden. “I gotta go now.”
“Sure...” Billy waves before walking away, and you stand there, wondering if you should go back to your so-called friends. You're sure Ryan will have that stupid smile on, eager to know what you and Billy have spoken about. And you won't tell anything, but you also don't want to deal with that shit right now, or else you might tell right to their faces how much of a jerk they are. So you decide to follow Billy through the garden, easily finding him by a particular big tree. He's opening a leaf tarp on a clean space on the grass before taking a fan rake. “This tree is dying.” You say, getting his attention. Billy turns around, furrowing his eyebrows. “That's why there are so many fallen leaves. See how some of them seem healthy, normal green leaves? It only happens when the tree is dying.”
“Then you should have someone cut it down before someone gets hurt.” He says, looking a little confused. “Shouldn't you go back to your friends?”
“Yeah, I probably should.” You're tired of all the things you should do, so for today, you won't do them. As silly as it may be. “Do you need some help?” You ask, stepping forward a little.
“No, I'm alright.” It sounds like a question, and you blush from the way he stares at you, for several seconds, before focusing on his task, raking the leaves to the tarp.
“Ok.” Whispering, you move to sit on a wooden table, one of the many you have scattered around the property. You try not to look at Billy too much, noticing how weird it feels to do this. You barely know the guy, he'll be your date for a gala, and now you're awkwardly seated here, watching as he works. Well, it is better than whatever your friends must be talking about now. “So... What exactly do you work with?” You ask, hoping to get any kind of conversation going. “I thought you just took care of the pool.”
“I work for a company. BJ's Associates.” Billy starts, and you take this chance to look at him. Despite the distance, you can see the sweat glistening on his forehead. “They send me to any place I'm needed. Some of them are scheduled weekly, others are random. And–” He makes a pause suddenly, giving you a look. “Are you bored yet?”
“No.” Shrugging your shoulders, you giggle. “I actually wanna know.”
He turns his head to look at the pool, which is a little distant now. Maybe he thinks this is some kind of move, and you wouldn't blame him, judging by the way the guys probably came to talk to him. “That's it. I clean pools, fix cars, might paint walls or something, clean gardens... The list goes on.”
“You know how to fix a car?” Raising an eyebrow, you move to seat on the table, placing both your feet on the wooden bench. “My car is making this weird noise and I'm sure it's not some normal noise.”
“How does it sounds like?”
“Like a clunking, I think... every time I hit the breaks, even when it's softly.”
“It could be some damage to the brake caliper.” He's quick to answer, and you raise your eyebrows, impressed. “Or it's badly mounted.”
“Damn, you're good.” You exclaim, giggling at his funny face.
“I just–”
“(Y/N)!” Amelia's voice reaches you, and Billy stops talking, resuming his job. “I've been looking for you.” The old lady, with her gray hair tied up on a perfect, sophisticated bun, comes to the table you're at, a tray with a jar and six glasses on her hands.
“I've been here chatting with Billy.” You tell as she lays the tray down. “And no, I won't go back to the pool.”
“They're talking about James Whayland.” She starts, rolling her eyes. Amelia is the only one in this house, well, the only one you know who understands you. “Alice Martin was talking about marrying him...?”
“Yup.” A stronger wind messes with your hair, so you use a hand to keep it away from your face. “Something about joining their fortunes and being the king and queen of California. Some shit like that.”
“Poor Alice.” Amelia breathes out, taking a glass and pouring some lemonade on it before handing it over to you. “That Whayland kid is not the nicest guy on Earth.”
“Poor James!” You giggle, putting your glass down and serving her some lemonade too. She doesn't like when you do that, since she's here to serve you. Amelia, the woman who raised you is here for nothing else than to serve you. So unbelievable it almost makes you laugh. “Alice isn't nice either. She can be very manipulative to get what she wants.”
“Don't I know?” She mutters. “Well, I must go. Serve this to your friends.”
“No, no, no. Take your glass and leave the rest. If someone complains tell them I'll drink the whole jar.” Taking the tray from her hands, you place it down on the table again.
“Alright, Miss–”
“(Y/N). Honey. Bunny. Anything, but not this formal stuff, ok?” You correct her, and Amelia gives you a bright smile.
“Alright, (Y/N).” She repeats before turning around and walking away, cordially greeting Billy.
Taking a sip from your glass, you smile to notice Amelia's lemonade is as good as always. A little too sour for your parents taste, but you like it better this way. Your attention goes back to Billy, still dealing with the fallen leaves, despite being almost done. If you ask, he might say no, so you just pour another glass before jumping to the ground, making your way over him. “Here.” Raising your voice, you get his attention. And once again he has this confused expression on his face when he sees the glass. “Lemonade. It's hella hot out here and this might help.”
“Thanks.” Squinting his eyes a little, he takes the glass from your hand, taking long sips, drinking almost everything.
“Sorry if it's a little too sour. I don't like much sugar on it and Amelia knows so...” When he's done, he gives you back the glass. “Why are you looking at me like that? I swear I'm not a ghost.”
“That's not it. I'm just not used to being treated like that by the owners.” Billy's voice gets a little darker, and he pronounces the last word with certain anger. But you can imagine exactly why. Most of the people you know aren't very fond of their employees. They're just the people they pay off to do what they can't do by themselves.
“I know how some of the families can be mean.” Drumming your fingers on the empty glass, you stand there, staring at Billy, just now noticing the deep, beautiful shade of blue from his eyes. Involuntary, you breathe out, smiling.
“What?”
“Nothing!” You burst out, clearing your throat and finding your legs again, making the way back at the table. “I–”
“(Y/N)!” A shout startles you, and when you turn at the source of the voice, you see it's Gisele. “Get back here! You won't guess who just got here.”
“If it isn't Michael Jackson ready to perform Beat It, I'll be disappointed.” You mutter, only loud enough for Billy to hear it as you walk back to the pool.
“Call me if it's him,” Billy says and you giggle, giving him one last look.
It's not Michael. Well, it is, but not Jackson, just Michael Rothford. He stands by the pool, where everyone gathers around him. Trying not to look pissed, you move closer, offering a polite, fake smile. “Good afternoon, Mike. How have you been?”
“I'm way better now.” He answers, and you try to ignore how everyone moves a little, giving you more space to move closer to Michael. He takes your hand, giving it a shake, and awkwardly squeezing it softly. “I'm here to ask, once again, for you to let me take you to Sunday's gala.”
The two idiots, Antony and Ryan start giggling, and you know exactly why. “Sorry, Mike, I can't.” Pulling your hand away, you cross your arms. “I already have someone, so...” Thank God you have the perfect excuse, and it's not even a lie. You're so damn relieved you won't be forced to attend to such a boring event with someone like Michael.
“Who?” He snaps, suddenly pissed. “Daniel is going with that Angela chick. Robert, you can't stand. Andrew isn't in the country, Willian–”
“You don't know him, alright?” Cutting him off, you sigh.
“Oh, shit,” Ryan mutters, and you give him a look. He has a hand covering his mouth, trying to control a laugh. “You're really going to the gala with the pool guy.” Antony burst into laughter, and the others try to control themselves not to.
“You rather go with the staff than with me?” Michael sounds offended as if he was punched in the face. “Are you kidding me, (Y/N)?”
Quickly, you try to think of something to say. You can't say the truth, that he's a hateful human being you can't stand being next to. But nothing comes to your mind. “No, I'm not. I... Actually wanna go with Billy.”
“Honestly, (Y/N), screw you.” He barks, and before you can answer, he grabs both your shoulders and pushes you straight into the water.
Everything happens way too fast for you to process, so there was no way you could tell him you absolutely can't swim. So the moment you hit the water, you just sink, your body moving to the bottom, way too far from the surface. You do try moving your legs a bit, uselessly. But you're suddenly pulled, strong arms moving you through the water until you finally reach the surface, gasping for air. Breathing fast, the terror finally starts kicking in, and you push yourself up, stumbling a little, ignoring all the hands that offer help. Once you're out of the water, seated on the edge, you finally see who saved you, Billy, also pushing himself up, only with a lot more grace than you. You exchange a glance, and his hand is the one you take, pulling yourself back to your feet.
“You can't swim?” You hear Michael's voice, a curse caught in your throat. “I never met a Californian who can't swim.”
Not minding the small crowd around, you make you walk to Michael, losing no time before slapping him right on the face, the loud noise of your wet hand colliding to his cheek startling some of your friends. “Asshole!” You yell before storming away, embarrassed, still struggling to catch your breath, feeling cold thanks to your soaked clothes.
“Hey.” Someone calls, but you ignore them, walking fast into the house. “(Y/N).” Your arm being grabbed makes you stop walking and turn around, ready to make hell rain on whoever it is, but your fury melts away when you see Billy. “Are you ok?”
Taking a deep breath, you relax a little, nodding. “Yeah, I just... Got scared.” He lets go of your arm, but you don't step away, looking into his blue, calming eyes. “Thank you, though. You saved my life.”
“Can't believe he threw you at the water like that.”
“See why I need you to take me to that stupid party?” Crossing your arms, you pace around. “I can't even begin to imagine how it'd be to spend the night with that prick.” Looking down, you notice how you and Billy are dripping, soaking the white floor. “I gotta go change, and you should... I don't know. At least you got to enjoy the pool for a while.”
“I'd rather enjoy it when you're not drowning.”
“Yeah, that would be better.” Shyly smiling, you give a step backwards. “I gotta go... But thanks again.” Stopping in your tracks, you decide to be just a little brave. Stepping closer, you tiptoe to place a quick kiss on Billy's cheek, before turning around and rushing upstairs to your bedroom.
×
@multific @dontxfearxthereaper @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon @alwaysadreamingoptimist
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Text
Happy Birthday, booksandeverlark!
Our sincerest apologies for the delay on your gift, @booksandeverlark​! We hope your birthday back on October 22nd was a wonderful one, and that you got exactly the presents you were hoping for. To bring your party feels back around, the lovely @mega-aulover​ has written a monster of a fic just for you!
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RATED E - For sexual situations and trigger warnings for manhandling and mild violence.  Some Hunger Characters are off Cannon for the purpose of the story. 
a/n Peeta Mellark is one of the worlds most recognizable stars, and he needs a break. He goes missing and is hiding in plain sight because he has fallen for Katniss Everdeen who is raising a tween Prim. Everything goes according to plan until one day Hollywood comes a’callin  
- special thanks to @norbertsmom who beta’d this monster of a story. 20K sorry to Booksandeverlark for the lateness of the story I hope you had a belated birthday.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Pete Holly Golightly 
-THE JUNKET 
“Where the hell is the kid?” Haymitch growled. 
“He’s in his bedroom,” his red-haired assistant said, popping her gum not even looking up from her phone.
Haymitch opened the door, and saw red.  He took his phone and called the kid, and the phone began ringing. There was a buzzing sound coming from behind the ensuite bathroom. The younger generation never went anywhere without their phones. The kid was no exception. 
“Kid,” Haymitch marched into the room and banged on the door. 
He had a bone to pick with the kid. The junket was a roller coaster. The kid was barely coherent during the second half of the interviews.  His co-stars did the heavy lifting.  Haymitch did everything in his power to get the kid in this movie, and he was brilliant, an Oscar worthy performance, but now the kid was burnt out.
The phone began buzzing again. 
“Come on Peeta. I know you’re in there I can hear the phone buzzing.” 
It was silent on the opposite side of the bathroom door. 
“Kid,” Haymitch said once more. Peeta was one of the most responsible people. Today was so out of character for him. Yet again, the pressure by the press lately made the kid feel like a guppy in a bowl full of piranhas.
A few weeks ago, some not-so-distinguished members of the press broke into the kid’s home. Peeta’s privacy was smashed when he found out it was his own mother who gave the pap’s the key to his house for a cool $100K. Ever since then the kid changed.
Haymitch was worried. The pressure was getting to Peeta. He was no longer having fun. His smiles never reached his eyes anymore. Haymitch was just about the only one who could tell when Peeta became Peet-the-movie-star. No one could distinguish the polished, charming, and funny persona from the genuine affable, fiercely loyal, kind kid Peeta was at the core of his being. 
After the press junket was over the kid gave him the slip. Normally they talked about the next project or movie. Opening the door, Haymitch cursed when he saw the kids’ phone on the bathroom counter with a note next to it.
“Haymitch, I’m just exhausted. I need a break. I promise I’ll be at the world premiere of the movie - Holly Golightly.” 
Haymitch crushed the note in his hand. He laughed bitterly at the code name the kid gave himself whenever he checked into a hotel. The kid loved the movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
Thankfully, this was the last appearance Peeta had to make before the movie premier in less than a week. But a week later, when Peeta didn’t make it to his movie premiere, the entire industry went up in arms.
Peeta's disappearance was the talk of the town. Even three weeks later the fury hadn’t died down. Every paparazzi fueled by the promise of the mini fortune for the first picture of Peeta Mellark was now hunting down the kid. The good boy gone missing had every tabloid spinning articles and fake sightings. Peeta had gone into the Elvis Presley stratosphere of speculation. Everything from aliens, to he became a monk. One thing for certain, the pap’s were seeking Peeta like a struggling dieter seeking a rich German chocolate cake.
-THE SEARCH
“You got any proof you saw Peeta Mellark?” Claudius questioned Judy Morphling.
“You got the cash?” the thin girl with the dark circles under her eyes asked.
Claudius showed Judy the white envelope filled with a couple of hundred-dollar-bills. She was a junkie. And he took advantage of her broke status to make a quick buck to fix her addiction. Claudius slipped the envelope back into his pocket. He wasn't fooled by kids like these.
He’d spent the past four weeks hunting down dead ends. People willing to sell their left arm for money. True, there were other pursuits where he scored a couple of thousand. The hottest going ticket in tinsel town was finding the whereabouts of Hollywood's golden good boy Peeta Mellark. The movie he was in had gone to number one for the past four weeks. It was driven by the mystery of his disappearance, and the phenomenal acting performance in the movie about race. It was a true story, a love story about a man who moved heaven and earth for the love of his life, a freed slave. 
“Okay,” she said.
“Now the proof,” Caludius demanded. 
He was familiar with his informant's story, all too well. Judy won a popular game show when she was in college. She became an instant national sweetheart. During her 15 minute of fame, she was invited to every single hot Hollywood party. Subsequently, she got hooked on alcohol and drugs. One of the bellhops tipped him off that she was in the hotel where Peeta was having the junket and that she had seen him the day he disappeared.
She looked side to side nervously reaching into her pocket to whip out her phone. "Here."
With detached indifference he looked at the picture. It was hard to tell, the guy had on a baseball cap and sunglasses. Claudius swiped the screen and saw that trademark chiseled chin his ex fawned over. It was him. Still, knowing the kid had walked out of the junket didn’t help him. He wasn’t ready to part with his money for just any reason.  “This could be anyone,” he said.
Judy lifted an eyebrow. “A friend of mine that works at a gas station said he also saw him.”
Claudius took a step back. “Sorry Judy. I need real proof.”
“I just need something to tide me over...please...look I have a friend... my friend’s name is Morph.”
“Morph like in the TV show?”
“His mom was a big into 1970’s reruns.” She shrugged, though the light trembling in her lips let Caludius know she was desperate. 
“Okay look.” He took out a twenty and showed it to her. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the money. “Give me this guys information. If it proves to be fruitful, I’ll pay you what you asked for.”
“Okay,” she held out her hand. “I’ll text you his information.”
His phone buzzed. He looked down at the information. “That’s out of State?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes were on the money. 
“You say he works at a gas station?” Claudius enjoyed taunting his informants. He waved the cash, like a cat and mouse game. 
“Near the border.”  
Claudius withdrew the folded bill. He needed assurances that she wasn’t just talking to get the money and not coming through with information vital to him. The payout for finding Mellark was nearly 200K. Judy licked her lips as her eyes followed the money reaching out with her hand.
“I’ll text Morph to give you an exclusive.” 
“Text him now.”
“Okay, okay.” Judy’s fingers moved quickly over the screen of her phone. She even included him in the group chat. When the reply came back as “no problem”, Claudius was satisfied. 
“Here ya go,” Claudius said, giving her the twenty bucks. He walked away; he needed to make the trip to Peeta Mellark’s last known position. He hummed as he got into his car, thrilled for the chase. 
-LIVING WITH THE ENEMY
Gale Hawthorne glowered from underneath the tree in his backyard as District Twelve’s newest resident, that blond painter Pete Golightly, made a move on Katniss Everdeen. He was supposed to be taking out the trash when he saw them by the curbside.
They stood so close in the dark that she was swallowed up by the guy's physique. But they weren’t touching, and although that was a relief, he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. 
He liked Katniss. No, that was an understatement. He more than liked her, he could see that there was a potential between them. She was smart, he wouldn’t call her pretty, hell she never smiled. But she made sense to him, she was practical, determined, efficient, loyal, punctual, and some much more. Katniss never looked at him like a piece of man meat. A lot of girls looked at him that way.
Frankly it was great, but sometimes, Gale sighed, sometimes he wanted to have an honest conversation with a girl. With Katniss he could, he’d talk, sure she didn’t say much, but she listened and that’s what he wanted. He held a candle for her so long that watching her with the new guy made him grow tense. He wanted to punch a wall.
The nerve in his temple drummed making his headache even worse. 
Rubbing his temple he wondered what the hell a guy like Golightly had that made Katniss, and for that matter, every single woman within a fifty mile radius act like a cat in heat.  Even his own mother talked about how handsome the painter was. And of all of the available girls, the douche chose Katniss to hang around. 
The peal of girlish laughter reached his ears. Gale walked closer, using the darkness to hide himself. He wanted to hear what they were saying. He crouched by her car. From this position he could see them. Pete dipped his head low near hers. Gale knew that hovering move, it was a move he used to get close enough to kiss a girl. 
Gale furled his fist. He watched Katniss reach up and smooth Pete’s golden locks away from his face. 
Katniss didn’t do that. She didn’t touch people, hell she didn’t like to be touched. He recalled how she recoiled when he tried to touch her. She did the same thing at Greasy Sea's whenever someone touched her by accident. Gale loved it when she scowled at them.   
Then she leaned up on tiptoe.
“No, no, no,” Gale ground out.  He then stood agog as Katniss lifted her head up to kiss Pete Golightly. 
It wasn’t a long kiss. It was really a peck, but Gale could see that both parties enjoyed the kiss. Her hand was perched on his chest and his hand covered it while the other one cupped her chin. This guy was a smooth operator.  Gale’s head pounded as he saw red. 
Pete separated from Katniss and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before he walked away to his car. Once he pulled out, Gale stood to his full height. 
“I thought you didn’t have time for that.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.  He stomped over to her, his fists curling and uncurling. He was trying to keep his calm. 
Katniss turned around and gasped her eyes wide and silvery in the moonlight. “What the hell are you doing, Gale?” 
She had the look of a girl who was properly kissed and that drove Gale insane. “You chose that pasty faced wimp?”
Her face transformed into that steely scowl of hers. She walked around him. 
Gale followed. “I’m talking to you.”
She ignored him as she moved forward. 
When she reached the front door of the garage apartment she rented from his mother, he turned her around, leaning down toward her. “What, you don’t have anything to say?”
Katniss looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. “It’s none of your damned business.” 
Gale was going to say something to her when she opened the door to the apartment and quicker than a fox stealing eggs from a henhouse she slipped inside and shut the door in his face. 
Gale pounded on the side of the door. This wasn’t over. 
-80’s QUEEN
“Prim,” Katniss hollered through the bathroom door of the small studio apartment.
The apartment was basically a portion of Hazel Hawthorn's garage. There was no privacy except for the small airplane sized bathroom. She jiggled the bathroom doorknob. Prim was going to be late for the bus.
“Katniss!” Prim screeched from the other side.
She rolled her eyes at her baby sister's dramatic response. “You’re going to be late for school.”
The door opened and Prim stood there pouting, her blond hair a riot. Katniss did not dare gasp. Prim was a tween and Katniss knew how vicious kids could be at school. Instead she sighed, “Okay, what can I do to help?” 
“It’s 80’s day at school today and I need to look like that,” Prim pointed to the picture on her phone of Christie Brinkley. 
“We’re going to need a lot of hairspray and a brush,” Katniss rolled up the sleeves of her shirt.
“But I’m going to be late to school!” Prim cried.
Prim was twelve and at this age everything was a crisis. Katniss wasn’t as dramatic as Prim at that age, though she was moody. “Hey, I’ll give you a ride into school. It will be alright,” Katniss smiled over Prim’s head, their reflected images showed a united front. They were as different as night and day, but both girls had their dad’s smile and their mom’s button nose. 
"Thanks Katniss," Prim said in a small voice. She was almost a teenager, but still very much a little girl.
"Okay, let's rock this." Hair and makeup wasn’t her strong suit but Katniss had a crash course having to take guardianship of her baby sister at the age of eighteen. When their parents died, Katniss fought tooth and nail for her sister. She didn’t want Prim to go into the foster care system. She elected not to go to college and found a job. She sold their parents’ house, paid off the debts and made a home for herself and her then 10-year-old sister. 
It was a rough learning curve, but somehow Katniss made it work. 
Taking a brush, she quickly brushed and smoothed her sister's hair. She took a portion of Prim's beautiful wavy blond hair and put it in a side ponytail. The rest of her hair Katniss curled and teased into perfect 80's puffiness. Combined with her ripped jeans and oversized sweatshirt she borrowed, Prim was perfect to go back in time. 
They were rushing out of the house. Katniss started her beat up Camry and began to make her way down the mountain. The mountains of Panem’s District Twelve were a beautiful blue grey. A lot of the residents lived in the high hills because they were cooler than the valley below. It was private and no one got a house in the hills unless it was passed down by family inheritance or in her case, a rental by a friend of the family. The school was a good half-hour away from the entrance of the steep hill, but as they drove, the car began to shake as they made their way down a steep incline. 
Her palms were sweaty as she frantically pressed on the brakes as they made their way down to a small plateau. She pulled the heaving, trembling Camry to the side of the road.
“No, no, no,” she uttered as it began to smoke. Katniss sighed and hoped that it wasn’t something costly. “I’m going to take a look.”  She popped the hood. Getting out, she went to the hood and released the latch. She jumped back as a waft of billowy hot plume of smoke wafted from the engine. 
“Dagnabit,” Katniss muttered.
“Is it fixable?” Prim asked out of the window.
She grimaced before she looked toward where her sister sat in the car, at this rate Prim was never getting to school. Her knowledge on cars was limited. She knew how to change the oil, change a tire, and do the necessary upkeep for a car. However, it was the more complicated stuff like identifying which of the hoses that broke causing her car to overheat, was out of her scope. That would mean she’d have to deal with Gale, a mechanic by trade.
Gale was obsessive about her, something that Katniss hated. They were once friends until Gale stopped looking at her as a friend, but something to be possessed. He didn’t acknowledge they were too alike, in temperament and personalities. To Katniss it didn’t matter Greasy Sae said Gale was sex on a stick, she just didn’t like him like that.
Her appetite for men ran in a different direction. Sighing, she gave the car a bewildered look. The odds were not on her side. 
“Katniss, I'm going to miss school,” Prim said desperately from the window of the passenger seat.
Katniss felt bad. These were the times she felt guilty for not being a better sister / guardian to her sister. Prim was a good kid and deserved better. Looking down at her watch, time was running out.  Squaring her shoulders Katniss vowed she was going to get her sister to school. “Come on,” Katniss said, reaching down and grabbing Prim’s knapsack. “We’ll be late, but we can walk to school.”
“We can call Pete,” Prim said quietly.
Katniss couldn’t help the flush that crept up to her cheeks at the mention of their new hunky neighbor. Those darned butterflies began whizzing around her stomach. Katniss wanted to hush them or at least put them on a leash whenever Pete was around. 
Pete lived on the mountain with them. He was quiet, and he and her sister got along like chicken wings and buffalo sauce. Pete was the different her appetite was hungry for. Her mind replayed the soul stirring kiss they shared. They said a kiss was a window into a person’s heart, and if that kiss was an indication of what was in Peeta’s heart it was a three alarm fire that burned for her.
However, the kiss was something she wasn’t going to share with her twelve-year-old sister. Hell, that wasn’t something she wanted to even think about. “Prim.”
“Katniss,” her sister’s eyes glittered with mischief. The little imp knew what she was doing.
“I don’t need a man to come rescue us. We can walk to the school.”
“I know we don’t need a man, but we’re not even halfway down the mountain and I’m more than half-an-hour away from school. Pete is about two minutes away.”
Her sister’s logic was infallible, and Katniss knew it, but loathed to admit. “Fine, call Pete.”
-INCOGNITO 
Peeta drove exactly three minutes from his home to see the old dark Camry with the hazard lights on. His gut clenched when he saw the petite fiery woman with the olive skin tone, eyes the color of a raging storm, and cute pert nose. They were seeing each other, not in an official I’m dating you way, but definitely in the, there was something going on between them.
Peeta was used to women fawning all over him. Not Katniss, and he’d fallen for her harder than a sledgehammer hitting concrete. They’d kissed last night. Not a gentle peck on the lips, but the type of kiss that proved the earth was round, because your world shifted on its access. One moment you were standing on the floor and the next you were standing on the ceiling.
He’d been a star since the age of six months. A casting agent walked into his parents’ failing bakery and spotted him sitting in a high chair. The agent convinced his father to put him up for one of those national baby advertisements. Yet none of the accolades he received compared to winning a small smile from the woman standing on the side of the road.
“Hi,” Katniss said pushing her long rope of braided raven hair over her shoulder.   
“Hi,” Peeta said, climbing out of his truck. 
“Hi Pete,” Prim greeted, her eyes alight with joy.
“Hey, little duck.” Katniss' sister Primrose was as infectious as sunshine after a rainy day. She was the one person Peeta was sure Katniss would put her life down for. He had never seen that type of devotion and love before. In the industry he was in there wasn’t much room for any sort of relationship. Everything was colored by money.
His own mother was the poster girl for how money corrupts absolutely. When that casting agent walked into the family’s failing bakery his mother doubted he would get casted; she often said he was an ugly baby. His mother was wrong. Peeta won the contest. His round little face with his priceless blue eyes was soon appearing on every jar, can, and package of that brand of baby product. His mother got bit by the show biz bug, or rather the money that he made from it. She became his manager, and without anyone’s knowledge, took money from Peeta. As he became older and less easy to control his mother became abusive.
Peeta longed for a normal semblance of life. Despite not having two pennies to rub together, Katniss was raising Prim on her own and she was doing it all right. Not once did he hear Katniss lose her temper with her baby sister.
“Hi,” Katniss waved back, her face a deep shade of purple. She slipped her hands into the pocket of her pink diner waitress uniform Greasy Sae made Katniss wear. Her white sneakers shuffled back and forth.
Peeta got out and slipped his sunglasses off. He opened the cab door and held it for Prim and Katniss.
Katniss rolled her eyes at him.
They had this discussion before, about how he didn’t have to hold the door open for her. Peeta knew Katniss was more than capable of opening her own doors, but he was a romantic. He believed in Arthur and the Round Table and a knight’s code. His friend Finnick often told him he was born in the wrong era. He stood up when a lady walked into a room, held doors open, and walked little old ladies across the street.
“Seat belt,” Katniss reminded Prim who already had her earbuds in.
“K,” Prim replied.
“Oh, your lunch,” Katniss said, taking out a brown paper bag littered with glittery stickers from her brown leather messenger bag.
“Katniss, pink panda bears?” Prim huffed.
“I thought you liked them?”
“I do, but these stickers scream six-year-old kid.”
“Okay next time I’ll do a plain brown bag.” Katniss put on her seat belt.
Peeta caught the way Prim’s fingers went over the stickers with awe and reverence. Once more he couldn’t help loving the way the sisters were a unit.
For the whole of his life Peeta longed to be accepted and loved by his family. His older brothers were self-involved and didn’t give a flying fig newton about him; he was just their meal ticket. His mother was abusive and money hungry. His father was a simple man who couldn’t stand up to his wife.
His dad failed to protect Peeta.  
The lesson he learned growing up was that no one needed him. They needed his bank. That last stunt was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Peeta needed a way out and he found a way. His friend, mega star, Finnick Odair helped him get it. Starting over was worth breaking a few rules. He made a few withdrawals, put it in a new bank account and when the time was right, he left.
The trek to the small country of Panem that sat between the Canadian border and the United States border took less than 19 hours including a 90-minute ferry. Panem was a small island, with little islands scattered around it. District twelve was the smallest of the islands and had the smallest community. He chose this small island because it was so far removed from everything that reminded him of Hollywood.
He could have continued travelling but stopped when he met Prim and subsequently her older sister, Katniss. Peeta stayed far longer than what he wanted to because he was fascinated by Katniss.
Once they were on the road, Katniss kept on sneaking looks at him. It was when he caught her gaze going down to his mouth that he knew he was in danger, by the way he stiffened in his jeans. He looked back at Primrose in the seat and the pressing problem in his jeans shriveled.
“You okay?” 
“Yeah,” Katniss said, clearing her throat. She picked up her phone and called the school and her husky voice on the phone made him uncomfortable once more.
Peeta told himself to keep himself in check. Peeta wasn’t a lady’s man, but that didn’t mean he was a saint. However, he was the type who liked to be in a relationship. In his opinion, the best sex was had when he was emotionally connected with someone. When it was used just to blow off steam or to scratch an itch, he found it empty and meaningless, so he stayed clear of women who only promised that sort interaction.  By Hollywood standards, he was a virgin. Compared to him, Katniss was a unicorn.
He respected her and if she knew his thoughts she’d no doubt shoot him through the eye with her bow. To be fair, he was terrified of Katniss, especially when she was in what he called the ‘Hunter Mode.’ Her scowl combined with her glittering silver eyes promised pain and certain death to whomever was in her crossfire.
There were two things he learned not to mess with, one her sister Primrose, and the other was her personal business. Katniss was an extremely private person. Peeta sighed as they sped toward Prim’s school.
“Prim,” Katniss said. “I let the school know we’re on our way.”
“What about Greasy Sae?” Peeta asked.
“Greasy was the first person I called while Prim called you.”
They approached the school and there were a few stragglers, parents rushing to get their kids into the school building. Katniss jumped out of the car.
“Katniss, I'm not a baby. I can make it into school by myself,” Prim whined.
“Prim I have to sign you in, and that will continue straight up through high school.” Katniss' matter of fact tone of voice let Prim know this wasn’t the time for a pre-teen hissy fit.
“Fine,” Prim said quietly.
Peeta grinned. “I’ll wait here while you get her sorted.” 
Katniss nodded, a look flitted through her eyes. She had been avoiding him, and in a way he had been avoiding her as well. He knew the kiss was a dangerous thing and with everyday he stayed put, there was a chance he could be discovered.
He pulled his hat lower and slipped on his sunglasses. Even though he’d let his natural blond hair grow out, there was a chance people would recognize him, his eyes were legendary. The only thing he was grateful for was that his mother despised his blond locks. 
To the public at large, he had brown hair. For the majority of his career Peeta dyed his hair and eyebrows. He purposefully didn’t take movies where he had to be a blond. After his parents’ stunt, he had begun to let it grow out. Cinna, his stylist, helped him wear a wig whenever he needed to make a public appearance. 
It was easy to slip on some glasses and walk out of the hotel. About halfway through the interviews Peeta had his double sneak in, so that he could escape. No one could make out the difference, well no one but Haymitch. 
Peeta felt guilty for duping his manager and mentor. The wrap on the window pulled him out of his thoughts. Katniss stood on the other side, her eyes were staring at his hands. He didn’t realize the white-knuckle grip he had on the steering wheel. He felt the blush creeping up the side of his neck. Leaning over he quickly jumped out and opened the truck door for her.
“Pete,” Katniss mumbled under her breath.
“You’ve got your quirks, and this is one of mine.” He could see the beginning of a small smile on Katniss face and that right there was the reason he kept on coming back to see her. When she smiled it was better than Christmas, better than fresh baked cookies, and better than a greasy bacon double cheeseburger after a night out knocking back beers with Finnick.
He got into the car and drove out of the school parking lot.
“Look,” Katniss grimaced.
Peeta sucked in a breath. Here it came, the excuses passed off as rationalizations. Peeta dreaded the speeches that ranged from it was a mistake, we should forget that it happened, and his least favorite, it’s not you it’s me, I’m sorry I’m just not that into you.
“I don’t do that,” Katniss said. Her eyes were focused on her hands. 
Peeta sat back waiting patiently for Katniss to continue.
Her cheeks were tinged with a warm red color.  She wrinkled her nose and bit her bottom lip, all signs of her nervousness. Peeta found it endearing. 
“I don’t go around.” Her leg began shaking now. “...kissing, I don’t go around kissing...”
“I know.” He put his hand next to hers, but didn’t touch her. Yet, the nearness of their hands caused butterflies to make an appearance in his stomach. The connection between the two of them was electric. He hoped she felt the same way.  He saw her look turn from trepidatious to one of suspicion. He cleared his throat. “What I mean is you take care of your sister. She’s your whole life. You don’t have time for romantic entanglements.” 
Her eyes opened.    
“You have to worry about putting food on the table, a roof over your heads, plus everything that comes with raising a tween.” They came to a stop at a stoplight.
She blinked.
Peeta opened his mouth and shut it. He sighed and nodded; her actions proved refutably, his words were wrong. He didn’t hear her moving  across the cabin, or the way her hands braced his face before she kissed him.
Peeta’s heart exploded like a redstone rocket leaving the mission pad into the atmosphere. Her lips were warm and supple, and they tasted of ginger and mint. His hands gently cupped hers. 
Katniss pulled away. Her lips plump, her eyes were a dark stormy gray, from their kiss. She smiled at him shyly. “Thank you.”
“I think I should be thanking you.” The light turned green and he began driving. He couldn't hide the ear to ear grin.
Katniss raised an eyebrow and gave him a chaste kiss. “I like you Pete Golightly.”
Hearing his fake name sat like sour milk in his stomach. Peeta wanted to come clean to Katniss but didn’t know how. Katniss wasn’t anyone who trusted people easily, and she let him get close. He felt guilty for not being honest with her. But he held onto the idea that he was going to be leaving soon. He also told himself that the less people knew about his secret the easier it was for him to be able stay incognito.  
He gently let go of her hands and he missed her touch when she pulled away.  “I like you too, Katniss Everdeen.” 
“You want to come overnight,” Katniss asked.
“As long as you let me make you and Prim dinner.” 
She looked indecisive.
“Look, you’re going to be late picking up Prim tonight, and when you get to the apartment you’re going to focus on Prim and her homework while making dinner. Since today is Wednesday you do the laundry.” 
Wednesday is the most dratted day...it runs a close second to Sunday night. Katniss hated laundry. She hated the separating, the folding, the waiting well just about everything except for the smell of the fabric softener. She said it reminded her of a spring meadow on a warm day.
“Okay,” she said. Laughter bubbling up from her lips. “How do you know me so well?” 
Peeta winked slowly. “I always take notice when you’re in the room Katniss.” He enjoyed the blush that blossomed on her cheeks.
-THE CHASE
Less than two days later Claudius unfolded himself from his car. He pulled into the gas station near the border of Canada and Panem to fill up his tank. 
A young family got out of the rest stop right next to him. The girls got out and  were talking about Peeta. There was a billboard of the movie hanging right in front of them. Claudius followed them inside, he went to join the line, he had cash to pay for the gasoline. The girls queued up behind him.
“He’s so cute,” the young girl said, pointing to the tabloid with the picture of Peeta Mellark. The headline read he was taken by aliens. 
Claudius glanced behind him, and estimated the girl must have been sixteen.
The other one who looked to be fourteen said, “He’s so yummy. Too bad mommy wont let us see his movie.”
“I know,” the sixteen year-old grumbled.
“Do you think his parents had something to do with his disappearance?”
“I don’t know,” the older sister said. 
Claudius reached the front of the line and paid forty for gas. He walked outside into the sunlight. It had been a long ride from the junket to this small town. He had to stop halfway there and rent a hotel room for the night. After a complimentary stale pastry and tepid tea for breakfast, he was back out on the road. He was finally just outside the small town.
He walked toward his car and began to pump gas.  The girls came out of the small convenience store and sat down in the small shaded picnic area next to the gas stop.
A young boy about their age walked by them and they were giggling and laughing. 
“Girls,” their mother called out. “We’re leaving.”
“Okay mom,” the girls yelled out in unison. As they stood up from the shaded area. They looked up at the billboard. And continued to speak about Peeta Mellrak. 
Claudius smirked at the girl's conversation. The actions of the young star were a mystery to Claudius and to the entire world. 
Why leave all of the money and power behind, Claudius wondered? That question is what drew him to the story, he’d discovered. The kid was clean, didn’t do drugs, didn’t drink, he wasn’t broke.  The kid had millions in the bank. 
In his last movie, Peeta, was involved in the producing, directing, and script writing. The success of the movie had everyone clamorning to work with him. The kid was on the cusp, he had the ability to make more money and have the kind of power to make his own movies. They billed him as the next Ron Howard. Why would the kid throw all of that way? No one was that crazy. Claudius knew of one person who left it all behind at the height of their career, Dolores Hart. Dolores starred opposite Elvis Presley, and some of Hollywood's top male actors of the time. She left Hollywood to become a nun.
Claudius wondered if Mrs. Mellark had anything to do with Peeta Mellark’s Agatha Christie stunt. The Mellarks were a mess. The kind that were a paparazzi present wrapped up tightly with bright ribbon under the Christmas tree. His older brothers were sleeze balls. His oldest brother was in hot water for making several statements that were deeply offensive to a number of people. The middle Mellark was a mainstay in Vegas. He was a gambler and rumored to have connections with the mafia. He was seen with the daughter of notorious mobster Seneca Crane. 
His mother, she was a joy, a really Betty Croker, complete with shark teeth. The woman sold her son’s privacy for 100 grand. The reporters entered his house and took detailed pictures of his home. The best was his color coordinated underwear draw. Everyone knew he was a boxer brief guy. His father was a patsy, with the personality of a limp wet towel. 
Claudius wondered if they were the reason he left Hollywood? But then again, Peeta had nothing to do with his family. They lived separate lives. Peeta didn’t even have pictures of his family in his house. Only gorgeous paintings that were discovered to have been painted by Peeta himself. If his family was the reason, it didn’t matter to Claudius. He wanted to be the first to find Peeta Mellark.
It’s why he was in the border town looking for Judy’s friend Morph.  
-NIGHT IN
Katniss watched Peeta with her sister. Her heart raced a thousand miles an hour, a common occurrence whenever he was around. He was washing the dishes with her sister as she folded laundry. 
Prim introduced them, and Katniss hadn’t wanted to be his friend. She didn’t want to be with anyone. She had to raise Prim. Her sister took the priority in her life and few people understood the pressure that came with being so young and raising a child. She was still only twenty, and they were visited by a fastidious case worker Effie Trinket whose sharp eyes never missed a thing. If there was speck of dust on a lampshade Miss Trinket would spot it.
It’s why she stayed away from men. They complicated her simple drive to protect and provide for her sister. Pete however never imposed his person on hers. He never demanded that she pay attention to him. Instead he slowly and politely became her friend. She hadn’t wanted to face him after the kiss, but after fate brought them together, and she spoke to him in the car she couldn’t help but kiss him again. 
That second kiss caused Katniss to realize maybe she was ready for more with Pete. He was kind, gentle, intelligent, witty, funny, and sexy. The last word caused her to blush, because she chose that moment to stare at him. As if sensing her stare, he looked up and his eyes darkened. His gaze dropped down to her lips before they moved up once again. 
He was thinking of their kiss and Katniss squirmed in her seat. 
Prim said something funny and he laughed. 
“That’s just as bad as Gale making a pass at my sister.” 
“No way?” Pete said gazing at Katniss.
He was curious about Gale. Katniss told him she didn’t have any romantic feelings about Gale. 
“Way,” Prim said. “Gale thinks Katniss should date him because he’s so,” she said holding up her fingers in the air to make quotations. “...great.”
Pete didn’t say anything. 
“They were friends and then my parents died. Gale expected my sister to fall at his feet. He kept on coming to the house to try to help, to make it known Katniss was his girl.” Prim’s face soured like that time she drank bad milk. 
They never spoke about that time after their parents died. Katniss preferred to move forward.
 “After the funeral he tried to make his move.”
“After the funeral, you mean the day you were…”
Katniss stopped folding the clothing. She had no idea Prim had overheard. She thought her sister was in their old home.
“Can you believe it!” Prim shook her head. “I was in the tree house hiding. I saw him grab my sister by the shoulder and try to kiss her, but Katniss pushed him away. She told him she wouldn’t have time for him, because she needed to petition the courts for me. Gale told her that raising me was a mistake. My sister kicked him in the nuts.”
“Did she?” Pete asked, his eyebrow quirked. Katniss could see his admiration, not for kicking Gale in the nuts as Prim said, but for sticking to her guns to take care of her sister.
Prim giggled, “He never saw it coming.” 
“So how did you guys end up living in their garage?”
“Katniss had to sell our house to pay for the bills and for the lawyers and court fees.”
Katniss stood up and sighed. “Gale’s mother is the real estate agent that helped me sell our house. She offered the garage as a way for her to make extra money after her divorce from Gale’s dad.” Katniss shrugged,  “She needed the extra income, and I needed a place to live. It was a mutual agreement.” 
"Katniss worked really hard to make the garage homey."
Katniss watched Pete look around the apartment as if he’d never really taken a good look. His focus was always on Prim or herself. To be fair he wasn’t someone who took notice of the disparity they lived in. Gale constantly offered to fix things for her, including her person. It was like that perfect backhanded compliment. You look nice in a dress, you should wear one more often, or the one that always made her see red. Your face is pretty when you smile and wear makeup. 
Katniss wanted to hurt Gale every single time he said something stupid and asinine. 
Gale’s harsh words didn’t extend only to her person, they also extended to the apartment. Gale made her feel insecure about her flea bargain finds, dollar store buys, and hand-me-down furniture. He thought the colors dull, and her paint job was poor, but never offered to help paint. 
Katniss could see all of the gaff’s she made painting. Katniss decorated their small home with calm earth tones, wanting it to convey peacefulness, warmth and be inviting. When they moved here Prim was ten and Katniss wanted to make sure her sister felt like everything was going to be alright. 
The studio was small with a loft. Katniss gave her sister the loft so that she could have privacy. Prim was growing up and Katniss understood the need for space. Katniss went through those awkward years with their parents, their door was always open. It’s why she made a bedroom for herself in the nook below the loft.  Katniss used shutters for a wall near the entrance and creatively used a tension rod between two bookshelves to make an entry to her makeshift bedroom.
Yet in Pete’s warm blue eyes she saw what could be considered admiration. 
“You are amazing,” Pete said simply.
Katniss could feel the onslaught of warmth that rushed from her heart to her cheeks, because unlike Gale’s thinly veiled insults which hailed from a vain superficial perspective. Gale could only see beyond his own needs whereas Pete's hailed from deep within. 
“Yes she is and she needs someone just as amazing,” Prim piped up, and Katniss was mortified. What came out of Prim’s mouth next however made Katniss want to bury her head in the sand. “Someone like you, Pete!”
Katniss thought she wanted to strangle her sister, but her feet were rooted to the floor. She glanced up and found herself staring at Pete’s lips. She wanted to be alone with him and kiss him once more but she couldn’t do anything in front of her sister. 
“Prim I think you sister is more than capable of making her own decisions about who she wants to date.” 
Pete’s words were commendable, and given the way his blue eyes looked darker and the fact that his eyes were gazing at her lip was a clear indication that Pete was thinking of the same thing, that kiss. 
“You two are perfect for each other.” Prim’s gaze switched between Katniss and Peeta’s. “I am going up to my loft, put my noise cancelling headphones on and listen to my favorite K-Pop band really loudly in case you two want to kiss,” Prim wiggled her eyebrows with all of the mischievous and impish power she held. 
“PRIM!!” Katniss gasped.
Prim’s peal of laughter exploded in the apartment as she ran up her loft ladder. 
If Pete hadn’t been standing next to her she would have chased her sister.  She turned slightly to Pete who stood with his hands in his pockets. 
“I,” Katniss uttered, unsure what to say.  The mood was ruined by her impish sister.
“Katniss, we can just hang out,” Pete suggested. “Maybe watch a movie? Or even fold laundry.”
Katniss wanted  to roll her eyes at his suggestion to fold laundry.
“You doubt my folding abilities? I will have you know I know the secret of folding a fitted sheet, it’s a family secret but I may have to kill you unless you’re willing to die for it," Pete said wiggling his eyebrows.
"You know I am an excellent archer." Katniss narrowed her eyes in mock anger.
His instant grin and mischievous glint in his blue eyes caused a small fire to begin in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t explain the butterflies that sprung in her stomach whenever she was near him. Or the way she couldn’t stop staring at his nearly translucent eyelashes. She swallowed thickly as she stared at his lips and recalled how sweet he tasted, and the insane need, no scratch that, desire to walk up to him and kiss him. 
“Oh hell,” Katniss breathed before she walked up to Pete and kissed him hard. Her hands reached up to cup his face while standing on tiptoe. She groaned the moment his arms wound around her, bringing her closer to him. Warmth spread from the deepest part of her chest and spread throughout her body. 
The kiss wasn’t forceful, but man did it do things to her insides. Katniss disengaged and took him by the hand, dragging him to her makeshift bedroom. 
“Katniss,” Pete raggedly uttered her name.
Katniss wasn’t even sure if what she was doing was correct. She didn’t have much, okay, in reality she knew zilch, zero, a big old donut hole about intimacy. The laws of attraction didn’t lend themselves to her until the day Pete Golightly came into her life.
She sat on the bed and scooted backward, trying to convey silently for Pete to come to her. Katniss wasn’t sure where this coquettish side to her came from. But Pete did things to her that made her want everything.
Her eyes scanned him as he stood by the foot of the bed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. If this were Gale he would have been the aggressor and that would have been like being thrown into a frozen lake in the middle of winter.  It’s not that Pete couldn’t be aggressive, he was massive.  His hands were warm and large, he was broad shouldered, strong, and taller than she was. Pete could probably bench press her caveman style, but he was sweet and polite, and  that drove Katniss wild.
She sat up on the bed and crooked her finger at him. 
Swiftly Peeta moved, coming to lay on top of her. She felt the moment he melted into her and she reveled in the power. They both gasped and moaned at the sensation of their bodies being pressed into one another. 
Katniss tilted her head slightly to kiss him and little currents of pleasure flowed from her mouth to her belly and  further south. Her hands grasped his face so that she could do something she’d heard about, kissing with tongue. It should have felt weird to have her tongue in his mouth. She instinctively sought entrance to his mouth and Pete gasped then angled his head and slowly opened his mouth for her. Her toes curled the moment his tongue greeted hers. Kissing was phenomenal, her new found favorite sport. Yes, it trumped archery. 
Her hands released his face and began to roam as they kissed. Katniss had a sneaky suspicion that Pete was some sort of athlete because his chest was firm. Her hand snaked under his shirt and she felt the ridges of his abdomen. Pete moaned and pulled away, his blue eyes wide. He looked dazed, a flush spread up to his cheeks.
She wasn't the type of girl who noticed that a guy was hot. Not that she was blind. Even though she didn’t like Gale. Katniss could admit to herself Gale wasn't an ogre. He was actually good-looking in that tall, dark and too handsome for his own good sort of way. She was just not attracted to him. She was one hundred percent attracted to Pete. And at this moment, all the naughty things she never thought of, never thought she would ever want to do, and had no time for, were rushing through her mind like one of those poorly written super trashy novella's Delly was so fond of reading. 
Katniss wanted the shirt to come off, she wanted for it all to come off, she wanted him naked. The word naked should have terrorized her, but in actuality it didn’t. She sat up and tugged up on his shirt. Pete pushed her hands down.
“Katniss we can’t.” Pete sounded like he had run up the steep hill carrying one of those 100lb crates of potatoes Greasy Sae had delivered to the restaurant. He sat back on his haunches. His eyes traveled over her and he shook his head. Katniss sorley wished she knew how to seduce. 
"Katniss," he said before he grimaced.
She frowned. 
“Your sister,” Pete said pointing up at the loft above. 
She’d forgotten about her impressionable baby sister. “Dagnabit!”
Pete smiled gently.
“I hate adulting.” 
“We all have to be adults.” 
She fell backwards onto her pillow, frustrated. Selfishly she did not want to stop. Realistically Pete was correct. Prim was a scant few feet away. She couldn't act like a typical 20-year-old. She had to be smarter, which is why she tucked all of those awakened me-want-sexy-time thoughts into a corner of her brain. A place where boring things resided, like matching clean socks, cleaning the oven, or pumping gas.
"Talk to me." Pete laid down next to her, not touching her, but just looking at her. It was comfortable, it was nice and yet those butterflies were acting like they were banging spoons and pots in her stomach. 
Talking was not her thing. As her court appointed family psychologist said, she was introverted, thoughtful and not someone who could eloquently speak unless pressured. This was partly because talking could lead to trouble. Katniss always reminded herself that until her sister turned eighteen, she had to be careful.
“You’re right,” Katniss sighed. “I can’t get carried away.”
“Believe me, it’s not easy walking away, but I get that you’re not ready for some things.” 
“You do something to me,” Katniss blurted. “There are these butterflies I get in my stomach whenever you’re around.”  She then realized how childish that sounded, she was twenty and not a thirteen year old girl.
He laughed. 
Yep Katniss thought, Pete thought her crazy.
“I get butterflies in my stomach whenever I am around you too.” 
“You do?” she was surprised.
“I do. You’re the sweetest most beautiful, bravest woman I have ever met. You are amazing.”
“I don’t know how to take that?” She was awestruck. She didn’t consider herself any of those things. Especially beautiful. She was not beautiful.
“Slowly like breathing. Let the words penetrate your heart slowly.”
Katniss nodded. “I just, I’ve never been with anyone. I don’t have the least idea about what or how I am supposed to act.”
“To be honest there isn’t one way to act; you just be yourself. If you’re not comfortable with something you tell me no or stop. Just like I pulled away and you respected my decision to pull away. I know this sounds like a cheesy movie line, but I like you, Katniss, I like you a lot. You are, and I keep saying this word, amazing, because I’m in awe of you.”
Words shouldn’t be that powerful but the way Pete wielded them caused her to want to rip his shirt and pans off and do stuff. What stuff she wasn’t sure, but stuff that people did in bed. She closed her eyes briefly and wondered what happened to the girl who a few weeks ago was grossed out at seeing two people make out in public. 
 He smiled and his blue eyes glowed. “I think you did a great job decorating too.”
“Now I know you’re crazy.”
“Given what you had to work with, you did amazing. Besides I’ve seen Prim’s loft…” Peeta grinned, the loft was a riot of baby blue, pinks, and purples. “Believe me you did a great job, even with your sister's space. Just enough chaos but enough organization to help a budding genius.”
“Oh no, she’s got you watching Pinky and the Brain?”
“Zoik!”
“Ugh,” Katniss said.
“What? I’m not a Brain, I’m more of a Pinky. Prim is the Brain.”
“Sometimes I am afraid about how smart Prim really is.” Katniss sighed. “Do you know she knew her periodic table before she turned three? She can spout all of the weights of the elements and is in advanced calculus and physics in school. I’ve asked her if she wanted to move on, you know, to a higher grade, but she said no because she wanted to grow up normal.” Katniss sighed. “She’s had so much disruption in her life. I just want her to have as typical a childhood as possible.”
Pete leaned in and kissed her soundly. Katniss sighed. 
He leaned away. “I would like to take you out on a date.”
“When?” She scooted closer to him.
“What about Friday?” He scooted closer to her.
“S’okay.”  She moved closer, so close she could see the pale specks in his blue eyes.
“Cool.” He gently enfolded her in his arms. 
She’d never been held before, and it was better than ice cream on a warm July evening.
-THE SCENT
It took Claudius the entire day to track down Morph. Even with a stupid name, no one in this forsaken side of town knew the scrawny strung out kid. He went to every single gas station and no one could identify him. 
Claudius was frustrated. Viciously glad the only thing he wasted was chump change. He was going to pack it up when he came upon a run down gas station near the border. It was a sad place. The kind of place people were murdered or bodies appeared. With a broken lamp and one gasoline pump because the other one had a white paper taped to it with the words ‘out of service’ hastily scribbled on it.
Claudius went inside and was struck dumbfounded when there sitting behind a laminated counter sat Morph.
“Morph,” Claudius said.
“Yeah.”
“Judy sent me.”
“Oh, yeah,” Morph nodded. His eyes looked unfocused and even in the dim light of the interior his irises were fully dilated.
Crap, Claudius thought, the idiot is high.
“Judy,” Morph said grinning.
“Do you remember why Judy sent me here?” Claudius wondered if this was going to be another dead end.
“Yeah.”
“And.” 
“Oh.” Morph waited a moment. “Yeah.”
Claudius would rather get shot during a root canal.  “Look kid, have you seen him,” Claudius took the tabloid from off the wrack and pointed to Peeta.
Morph blinked. “He was here, he paid for gas, cash.”
“He did?” 
Morph held out his phone screen to Claudius. The thrill of the chase running through his veins. He showed him the picture of Peeta’s side profile. He was wearing the same baseball cap and sunglasses he wore in Judy’s picture. Morph then pulled his phone back and stared blankly.
“Can you tell me what direction he took?”
Morph turned his head. “Yeah.”
“Well.”
“He headed toward Panem.” 
“Panem?” Claudius was struck. “Are you sure he didn’t head toward Canada?”
Morph took out his phone and swiped. 
There on the screen was a picture of Peeta’s car with the license plate heading toward the Panem border. Claudius took the idiots phone and sent himself the pictures. He slapped a 20 on the laminate counter. 
Claudius pumped his gas but mentally he chanted, “Gotcha.”
 -CONSPIRATORS
“Good morning,” Prim said from over her bowl of cornflakes.
Pete grinned. The time on the microwave read 5AM. Rubbing the back of his head, he said, “Morning Prim.”  He and Katniss fell asleep in her room. He hadn’t woken up until this moment. Katniss was still sleeping. 
“So you and my sister,” Prim wiggled her eyebrows.
“Prim.” 
She grinned then made little kissy faces.  
“First, you are too young to think that way. Secondly, I respect your sister far too much…well, to push her into something she is not ready for.”  
“Please, there’s no need for an explanation. I know you guys didn’t do anything. I came downstairs around eleven and both of you were snoring. You, by the way, drooled on her pillow.”
Peeta rubbed his face. He had a sinking suspicion Prim was going to hold this over him. 
Prim smiled but as she continued slurping her milk.  
“Your sister,” Peeta said, sighing. “I really…I...like her alot, more than a lot actually.”
“Listen Peeta,” Prim said. “You make my sister happy and she makes you happy.”
“Prim,” Peeta hushed Prim. “You can’t use my real name.”
Prim rolled her eyes. 
She was the only one who had figured out who he was within seconds of meeting him. She waited until they were alone and then she began to grill him like a well done steak. He had been going to Sae’s diner for one of her infamous soups, but he also liked to watch Katniss. She was graceful. The way she walked around people without making sound or spilling drinks or bowls. He had been trying to gather the courage to speak to her. 
One day Prim showed up and his entire ruse was over. 
Katniss wasn’t the only Everdeen to be protective. Prim was like a mama bear around Katniss.  Her attitude toward her older caused Peeta to have a deep appreciation for Katniss. That she sacrificed so much for her sister was humbling. Peeta wished he could use all of his money and connections to help out the sisters. 
However as he got to know both of them, he knew neither sister would take money from him. These two were fighters, they were a team. When Prim figured out he wasn’t playing with her sister’s heart, she was a mini bulldozer pushing them together. Prim was, as Katniss stated, frighteningly intelligent.  
“You mean Peeta?” Prim said it louder.
“Prim, keep it down.” 
“My sister sleeps like the dead. And you owe me cheese buns.”
Peeta sighed. He’d forgotten the bet, which Prim won. Last night they did end up making out. He couldn’t help the buzzing in his body at the memory of the way Katniss silver eyes turned like liquid mercury when she was aroused. “Okay, we’ll have to go over to my place.”
“Why?” Katniss walked into the kitchen, her hair askew. Her sleepy face was adorable. 
Peeta walked to her and planted a sweet kiss on her lips. “Good morning. I’m making cheese buns.”
“Why?” Katniss yawned.
“Because, you should never make a bet against an Everdeen.” Prim winked. “I’m going to grab my clothing and stuff. I’ll pack something for Katniss too.”
Katniss frowned, watching her sister walk toward the loft. 
Peeta couldn’t help himself. He cupped her face and properly kissed Katniss. She hummed, groaned and moaned all at once. 
She gazed up at him with awe and with the embers of desire. “I lost a bet to Primrose, and now I owe her cheese bun.”
“She shouldn’t be doing that, but your buns are well worth it.”
“You like my buns?” Peeta hoped she meant something else entirely.
Katniss slipped her hand around to his butt and squeezed him briefly before sassily winking at him. “Yup I just love your buns.” 
Peeta laughed. And kissed her swiftly, feeling like he had come home.
-THE OUTRAGE
Gale wanted to rip the backyard tree from it’s trunk when he woke up to see Pete coming out of the apartment early this morning.  They were laughing and holding hands. 
Hi misery could only be accompanied by the rage he felt. 
Katniss was supposed to his girl. 
Gale closed his eyes momentarily as pain shot through him. He opened them to see the lovers wrapped up in each other. What hurt the most was that, this wasn’t sex, they weren’t fucking for fun. The way they held one another as they kissed, denoted tenderness, deep care, gentleness, and soft yielding toward the other. 
Gale tore his eyes away. He loathed Pete Golightly for taking the one girl he thought belonged to him. The one girl he wanted. 
Katniss might never be his, but he was never going to accept them as a couple. 
-THE HUNT
Peeta Mellark was smart, but Claudius was smarter. With the plates he was able to trace the car.  Peeta had turned his car into this obscure car rental in Panem’s Capitol. While he couldn’t confirm that Peeta rented a car, he showed the girl the picture from Morph’s phone. It was imperative he got that first picture of Peeta Mellark. It was now worth nearly 300 Grand. And Claudius wanted to sit on a throne made of money.
“Yeah, I’m trying to trace down my nephew. My brother had a heart attack and my nephew he’s on one of those retreats you go wireless.”
The perky blonde’s eyes widened. "Oh my goodness, are you alright?”
Bingo! Claudius said to himself. People were inherently good, well unless you were a bastard like him, but in reality they wanted to be helpful and that’s where he, the bastard, preyed upon them. “I am okay, my brother,” he added enough emphasis on the word brother to allude that he was mortally grave. “I just hope to find my nephew before…” He trailed off.
“Oh, I can’t give you information, because it’s private.”
Claudius grinned, “Yeah, of course,” he said pumping something close to sincerity in voice. “Could you tell me if someone has seen him if I describe my nephew to you?”
“Sure I can totally do that.” 
“Great, you have no idea how much this means to me.” 
-THE CONFRONTATION
Gale walked into Greasy Sae’s. He found Katniss briskly walking between tables, serving coffee.
He sat in her section, at the counter and waited patiently as the crowd thinned and she came behind the counter.
“Gale,” Katniss said, her lips were thinned into a tight smile. “What can I get for you today?”
“Coffee,” Gale’s eyes slid down her form. He recalled what she looked like in a pair of shorts and a tank top. She had a slight build, small breast and a small ass too. He thought before that outfit she had a boy's body, but he was wrong.  That was the summer before her parents died. “And you.”
Katniss plopped the coffee saucer on the table and then said, “I’m not on the menu.”
“Well you’re sure on Golightly’s menu.”
Her eyes widened before she narrowed them. “That’s none of your damned business.”
“What? That you’ve been whoring yourself to him?”  He reached out and snagged her wrist.
“Let go of me.” she tugged.
He tightened his grip, now that he had her, Gale couldn’t let go. He was fascinated by the silvery color of her eyes, the way her pert nose wrinkled. Once again, he thought she wasn’t beautiful, hell, she wasn’t even pretty, but there was this pull about her. One he could not let go, even though she was with that man.
“You’re hurting me,” Katniss whispered struggling.
“Gale Hawthorne,” Delly Cartwright said, slapping him upside the head.
Gale blinked and released his hold on Katniss. He frowned looking at the fat cow Cartwright.
“You let her go or I will call my cousin to arrest you for manhandling.” Delly’s voice was high and squeaky.
He realized everyone was looking at him. Embarrassed he pushed back his hat and said, “I don’t want anything from the likes of her.”
Katniss held her wrist protectively. Her eyes were a glittery silver. Her scowl was in place and he knew that if she had her bow she wouldn’t hesitate to use it.
“You okay?” Delly asked Katniss.
Gale scoffed looking at Katniss's wrist. “She’s not even bruised.”
“Get,” Delly said.
Gale saw that a few of the other residents stood up, their demeanor letting him know that they were backing the girls.
“I’ll be back.”
“No you won’t, I’m going to tell Greasy, and when she hears about this you’ll be banned,” Delly put her finger at the center of his chest.
Gale left, but he swore Katniss was going to pay for embarrassing him.
-THE DATE
Katniss was nervous. She looked at her wrist, glad she didn’t have a bruise after Gale manhandled her at work yesterday. She sighed and put the incident behind her. She wanted to focus on her date tonight with Peeta. Twirling to the side she fretted about the dress, was it too short, was it too revealing? She wasn’t sure about the color. 
“You’ve got to relax, Katniss.”
Katniss swung around to face her sister. “You’ve got everything?”
“Yeah,” Prim said, rolling her eyes.
“Prim,” Katniss forgot to worry about her date with the worry about her baby sister.
“Katniss,” Prim grabbed her cheeks between her hands. “I AM GOING TO BE FINE!”
Katniss frowned. It was a night of firsts. She was going on a date with Pete, and her sister was going to her first slumber party with her friend Ginnee at the new girl Coral’s house. Katniss had met Coral’s parents yesterday when Prim came home with the coveted birthday party invite. Coral’s parents were from District Four and they thought a slumber party would help Coral make new friends at her new school.
Katniss thought Coral was okay, it was Ginnee, she didn’t trust. Ginnee had older sisters and brothers. She was astute and as slippery as a snake. Katniss frankly did not trust the intrepid twelve year old girl who would soon turn thirteen. “If anything even remotely happens or you feel uncomfortable you will…” Prim gave her a look that caused Katniss to amend her choice of words. “…can call me.”
“I will.”
There was a horn outside.
“Stop grimacing. It’s just Ginnee.”
“Ginnee,” Katniss muttered under her breath. “Just be careful, and have a good time.”
Prim grinned before she slipped her backpack on her back and sprinted out toward the waiting car. 
Katniss stood outside looking like the proverbial mother hen with one arm wrapped around her middle the other lifted in a half-hearted wave. She couldn’t stop her sister from growing up.
As she stood there, Pete’s car pulled up. He came out wearing a nice dark blazer, white crisp shirt, and khakis. He clutched in his hands a bouquet of wildflowers. Where and when he got them she didn’t know. All she could think about was the shy yet sizzling smile Pete sent her way. And the breath she held when Prim left wooshed out of her.
“Hi,” she croaked.
“You look great,” he gushed.
Katniss looked down at the orange wrap dress Prim demanded Katniss splurge on and buy for tonight. “Thanks. You look nice.”
He grinned at her and that was how her control snapped. She stepped up to him and kissed him wildly. She moaned when his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to him. She was correct; kissing Pete was better than the thirty-one ice cream flavors Baskin Robbins boasted. “Oh Pete…”
Pete pulled back and sighed. “If we don’t get out of here now, I am going to carry over my shoulder and bring you inside, Katniss.”
Katniss raised an eyebrow, feeling emboldened and brazenly she said, “That wouldn’t be a bad thing.”
Pete groaned.
“But,” Katniss said, liking how her words affected him. She wickedly said, “I suppose if you want to spoil me for a nice meal, before I plunder you later on…”
“Do you not understand I am trying to be a gentleman?” His eyes were wide and wild.
Katniss wanted to sound coquettish, but she ended up telling him the truth in a rushed tortured tone of voice. “You’re not the only one holding on to restraint.”
Katniss watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “I am trying to think of everything that is disgusting and unappealing to make me come down back to earth and continue with dinner.”
“You are?”
“Katniss my brain short circuits any time you’re near, and when you kiss me I can’t even function. I have to literally sing the twelve days of Christmas in my head to calm down.”
“The twelve days of Christmas?” She couldn’t help the way a smile formed on her face.
“I have to keep on telling myself that you’re not ready, that this is moving way to fast-“
She didn’t let him finish. “What if I am ready to be with you?” It was impulsive and she was not sorry she said the truth.
“Are you sure?” He looked scared, almost reverent.
“I am, but if you’re not ready, then I’ll wait,” she said into his lips because he kissed her fiercely and such intensity that she was left breathless.
“Food,” he muttered when he pulled away. “Need food to keep up.”
He took her hand and tugged her along. The dinner that followed was uncomfortable in that they both wanted to go home and tear each other’s clothing off. Katniss couldn’t recall what she chose or what he ordered. The only thing she wanted wasn’t on the menu. 
When they got to her apartment the thin wall of restraint broke and they were kissing wildly.
“Slow, must go slow,” Pete said as he struggled with pulling off his shirt without unbuttoning it.
Katniss chuckled at his eagerness. A smooth operator Pete was not, but she didn’t mind. She slowed him down by putting her hand on his chest and tugging his shirt down. Quietly she undid the buttons. His breath was labored while hers was calm. She was more than turned on, her underwear were ruined, to be fair, and her nipples stood at attention in her bra. She was the inexperienced one, but at that moment, Pete was the one with jumbled nerves and that made her feel excited, yet calm.
His eyes darkened when she removed his shirt and her hands slid up his chest. Her heart was a riot inside of her chest. Her blood pressure, no doubt, through the roof. Her mouth watered at the sight of his abs. She understood why when women said six-pack they went haywire. On impulse she kissed his chest and licked his pec and Pete roughly called her name.
“Off,” she said, tugging his pants.
Pete's hands flew to his pants and her eyes were riveted to his hands as the zipper came down. Katniss shivered now she began to pant. Her mouth opened and her eyes widened at the sight of him. “OH,” she said. Her hands reached out to touch him, but she glanced up to see if this was alright.
Pete tersely nodded.
Her hand wrapped around him and she sighed along with his groan. He was long and thick, and his tip wept with pre-cum.
“Katniss, I want to see you,” Pete’s voice sounded low and dangerous and she shivered.
Katniss leveled a look at him as she placed her hand on the ties of her wrap dress. He placed his hand on top of hers.
“May I?”
“Okay,” she gasped, dropping her hands. She was by this point unable to talk. The anticipation was getting to her.
Pete’s eyes were hooded and dark as his hands tugged on the knot at the front of her dress. “I’ve been thinking about this all evening.”
Her dress slid open and it slid off her skin smoothly like chocolate melting in one’s mouth.
Pete made a strangled cry at the sight of her. Emboldened by his reaction she reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, letting the straps fall slowly revealing her breasts to him. His hands trembled when he reached out to touch her, but he sought her permission. 
“May I,” his voice sounded hoarse.
She nodded, but he just stood there staring at her. Unwilling to wait anymore she took his hand and slid it to her waiting breast. His touch sent her over the edge and her head snapped back and she moaned his name.
His free hand brought her closer and the press of flesh to flesh was an explosion more powerful than any force of nature. Their mouths met greedily, wildly, taking, giving, needing, and raising the temperature between them. She was a blaze for him and he was ablaze for her. He picked her up and mouths still fused, her fingers in his soft wavy hair. She pulled and played with the strands as they somehow landed on her bed. His mouth disengaged from hers once they were laying on the bed him on top looking down at her wantonly.
His lips began a decent down, his tongue tasting, lapping, tracking a path downward leaving her to be a wriggling mess. She called his name fervently as a tight coil wound deep within her womb. He paused at the juncture of her thighs. She could feel his hot breath on her inner thigh. When his fingers brushed along her soaked panties, she jumped.
“I want to taste you,” he said. His eyes flickered from her face to the crotch of her panties.
Katniss fisted her hands into the sheets. She’d accidently read about this in one of Delly’s books. She’d picked it up one day curious as to why Delly found them so appealing. What she read shocked her men kissing a woman between their legs sounded unsanitary. But right now, in this moment, with the way Pete was looking at her as if she was the most delicious plate of food it was the one thing she wanted. “Please,” she gasped.
Pete inched her panties down as if he was unwrapping a present and Katniss was relieved when her underwear were off and lay bare with her legs spread before him. He looked predatorial and yet worshipful. His hands slid up her thighs and a thousand points of electric pleasure raced to her core. And when she kissed her there, and she felt his tongue taste her and she yelled and thrashed wildly, her body shaking as he tasted her.
“Perfect,” he muttered, “delicious,” were words he repeated when he gasped for air.
Katniss didn’t care as she felt herself burn brighter and brighter, the coiling sensation whirled within her until her skin burned and she combusted with a loud sound and moisture seeped out of her.
She was barely back to herself before Pete began his onslaught again. This time, adding a finger, then another and like a dam, she burst over and over until she was a raw nerve, quaking needing more, desiring him to fill her empty spaces. The ones in her heart, mind, soul and body.
She called out his name, pulling him up to her so she could kiss him. His hands touched her and explored her body as they rolled around in the bed. Her hands also drifted over him. Her short nails scraping over his body, soft but hard, brushing over the hair that traveled down his belly button, downward to his cock. She grasped him, but Pete pulled away.
“I want you,” she growled.
His grin was instant. Then he said, “condom…”
Katniss was frustrated when he pulled away to find the offensive item that took Pete away from her. She was bereft without his warmth, and his heavenly body.  
When he returned back to her his eyes focused on her body. With fire she opened her legs, an open invitation.
“Fuck,” Pete said. His hand ran through his hair, and once more his lips descended upon her center until she was screaming his name. And when he crawled up pinning her to the bed she was a disarray of sensations primed and ready. With gentleness he lined them up before his body dipped into hers. Tears slipped from her eyes as she felt cherished, wanted, and loved.
His eyes conveyed that and more as she was split open and her mind flashed to the first moment she saw him come into the diner. The way he looked lost and bewildered when he first set eyes on her. The way his hands shook after their first kiss.
“Katniss are you alright?”
Katniss was sure, “Yes.”
“I’m not hurting you?” he gasped as she flexed muscles she didn’t know she had.
She shook her head. And with that he began moving within her and stole her breath away. Being with Pete was more than a treat, it was life altering, soul shaking. He was trying to make her feel good and there were a few times she felt the stirring, but her body was too raw and frayed to really be engaged.
“Katniss,” he panted, “you’re not with me.”
“It’s okay, let go,” she urged.
“But..” he groaned.
She gripped his butt and scraped her nails and he shouted.
She loved to watch him. It didn’t matter that she didn’t come again. She was well satisfied when she saw him lose his mind when he came. That was her new favorite memory. A memory to remove all of the bad ones.
Nothing else mattered because she had fallen in love with Pete.
-LA LIVING
Haymitch ran his hands through his hair. Whoever said there was no such thing as bad publicity should have been stuffed with the food from the first episode of that food network show America's worst cooks.
A month and a half had passed and still Peeta’s name was on the lips of every single exec, studio chief, or big time producer. They wanted Peeta to be in their next production. The Oscar talk in tinsel town was at a fevered pitch and with only one person leading the pack, his client, the kid.
He sat back in his chair. He had other clients, but the kid, he was special. Because unlike the other butter nutters that he dealt with, Peeta was a good kid. He was wholesome. Too darned good for this business.
His secretary buzzed in, “Mr. Abernathy.”
“Yeah,” Haymitch bit out.
“They are calling,” his secretary said with resigned annoyance.
 Haymitch gritted his teeth. The studio was calling.
“Fudge,” Haymitch said. He’d given up his two favorite pastimes, drinking and swearing. The drinking because when he found himself lying on top of a train track in the middle of nowhere with a train horn blasting in the distance. It had been time to get help. Two the cursing, it reminded him of the bars. There was something about a good curse word that brought images of a smooth malt whisky. So as part of his sobriety, he gave up cursing.
“You want me to tell them you’re not here,” his secretary sounded giddy as if she wanted to tell them what bridge they can use to take a flying leap from.
“No. Put them through.” He could only imagine what they wanted.
“Abernathy!”
“Ravenstill,” Haymitch greeted.
“I just wanted to tell you that this Agatha Christine stunt is the best thing that has happened. We are two months away from the Oscar Nominations; his name is like gold. Not to mention the movie has been number one for six weeks and has done phenomenally well internationally.”
Haymitch could hear P. Ravenstille the Third calculating the money in his head. To men and women like Ravenstille it was all about the money, not about the kid who had had enough to leave. 
“I just want him found before the Oscar nomination,” Ravenstill said.
“Is that all?” 
“Yes, good job. I’m sending a few clients your way, Abernathy. See what you can do for their careers.” 
With that Ravenstill was gone. 
Sighing deeply, Haymitch thought to himself, it was time to begin some digging of his own. He needed to find the kid.
-THE BUBBLE
A few days later Pete made her scream so much that the tension rods gave way and fell. Maybe it was the force of the bed hitting the wall, but it didn’t matter because coming with him buried deep within her walls shook her world. She couldn’t form a simple sentence afterwards. She was glad that afternoon, Prim had been next door playing video games with Vick and Rory.
It all came about because of laundry. She was making plies gearing up for laundry day. By the time she mentioned dryer sheets her underwear was hanging from the corner of the refrigerator. Peeta had a serious kink about laundry.
When Prim came home, she stopped and looked at both of them, as they made dinner. Her eyes narrowed. She looked suspicious.
“Why is your hair wet, Pete?” Prim asked.
Pete looked so embarrassed that he couldn’t come up with a single word.
“Prim go wash up. Dinner will be done in a few minutes,” Katniss shooed her away needing to quickly redirect her sister.
“But his hair is all wet,” Prim said.
This was going to be harder than corralling baby chicks. “We were playing with water Prim,” Katniss said.
“Wait, you had a water fight and didn’t invite me!” Prim sounded outraged.
“I’m sorry, you were so busy playing victory of something or other with Vick,” Katniss teased. It wasn’t a lie; she and Pete did play with water. A steamy game of hide the soap.
Prim twisted her face, and sounded like Daffy Duck, “You’re despicable.”
“I know,” Katniss winked. “Now go wash your hands.”
Pete raised an eyebrow.
Katniss felt the way her cheeks stung as she blushed. “I didn’t lie, we were playing with water.”
Pete’s throaty laugh made her wish they were alone.
-TINSEL TOWN CALL
“Haymitch darling!” Caesar Flickerman's excited voice made Haymitch want to stand in the center of oncoming traffic. The man was so cheerful it gave him a toothache.
“Flick, I’ve got an exclusive.” Haymitch said, jumping in his car.
“Rrrreally,” Caesar rolled his r’s like a cat purring. Caesar's real name was Pertanio Rodriguez, he changed his name to sound more commercial. But he emulated Walter Mercado, a famous and beloved astrologer. Despite his Liberace-like appearance, Caesar was one of the smartest interviewers.  
“Let’s just say I’m cashing in that favor, you owe me.” Haymitch slipped his glasses on. The black and white grainy pictures of a blond Peeta Mellark and a dark haired beauty were on his passenger side.
“You mean you know where Peeta Mellark is?”
“Yeah, I want you to get ready to move, and I mean move fast.” Haymitch knew everything, thanks to Finnick. He followed Pete Golightly to District Twelve and that’s where he found him playing house with a girl. Haymitch needed to spin this fast, because he guessed if he found Peeta this fast there were others who were on his trail. “The kid’s in love, and it’s why he left. To help his lady love.”
“OHHHHH,” Caesar said.
“Yeah, star crossed, flipping flip flop, lovers.”
 -THE APPROACH
Claudius was tired, but he knew he was getting close. He could taste it as he drove off the ferry into District Twelve. The island was small, mostly filled with rocky hills. This was the type of place where cousins kissed and everyone was related.
His proof? As he drove into town all he could see was tan and olive-skinned people, with slick black hair and light eyes. Yep, he was in an inbred clusterfuck. It was evening, and the sun was dipping low, closing on another day. It was starting to get cold.
The rented car needed gas; he drove it through the Capitol and eleven of the thirteen districts. He wanted nothing more than to find a hotel, get a hot meal, and a shower.
Pulling into the gas station a taller version of the inbred came out.
“Forty dollars regular.” Claudius offered the kid the two bills. He was looking at his emails. There was still no sight of Peeta Mellark.
He scowled. “You’re tearing the engine with regular.”
The growl snapped Claudius from perusing his phone. The kid looked like he could bench press him. “Fine.”
 “Ass,” the hot-tempered giant said.
“Look, I'm looking for someone. He’s medium height, blue eyes, broad shoulders…a chin that makes women swoon.”
The kid raised an eyebrow.
“Look, he kinda looks like Peeta Mellark the movie star,” Claudius doubted the giant had two brain cells that held a note of intelligence. “Do you know anyone who looks like that?”
The giant’s eyes widened and he growled, “I do.”
“You do, great!”
“Who the hell are you?”
Suddenly Claudius saw the kids eyes turn cold and calculating, and Claudius thought huh, he was wrong, the giant was smart.
“I’m a reporter, my name is Claudius.” Claudius took out his card and gave it to the giant. “I’m looking for him, you know where he is?”
“How much is it worth to you?”
“Sure, 50K,” Claudius said.
“100 Grand,” the giant countered.
“60..” the kids hand curled into a fist, and Claudius raised his price, his voice going up an octave. “70…5…75 Grand.”
“Good, name’s Gale.”
“Gale,” Claudius said, not sure if this kid was going to lead him to Peeta Mellark or  into the mountains and skin him alive.
“Meet me tomorrow,” Gale said scribbling the address on the back of his receipt.
“If this is…”
“You want Mellark, right?” Gale asked.
“Yeah, well meet me there tomorrow morning. Early, or you won’t catch him.”
Claudius knew there was a story here, “Why?”
“Look, this district is so small about half a dozen people already know that you’re here. The news will get to him quickly and he’ll leave. Do you want that?”
“No.” Claudius felt like he was back in third grade being chastised by his thick legged hairy teacher Mrs. Gaul.
“Good, then drive four miles, make a left on Chicory lane and stop at number 451, and tell the goat man I sent you. He’ll take care of you tonight. Meet me tomorrow before five at this address.
-THE CALM
Katniss awoke slowly, she was surrounded, cocooned in a delicious warmth and manly scent. Their first date led to her sleeping with him. Heat spread throughout her body as she recalled the way it felt to have him deep inside her, the way her body split and widened to accommodate him. His look was a blend of worry and bliss. Seeing him come undone was one of her new favorite things to do.
Of course Pete confessed his favorite thing to do was making her orgasm over and over.
“How is it you’re not sleeping?”
His sleep roughened voice caused gooosebumps to appear up and down her body.
“Well, I have to go get Prim, she’s at Coral’s house.”
“Right,” Pete rubbed his eyes.
“Pete, you don’t have to go.”
Pete looked at his phone, “Katniss it’s not even five in the morning.”
“It isn’t?” Katniss looked at his phone. “I forgot the whole time-change thing.”
Pete laughed, “Well that gives us time...”
Katniss turned and saw him leering at her and she gasped and laughed as Pete attacked her lips.
-THE SNARE
Gale couldn’t believe his nemesis was none other than the ‘goody-toO-shoes’ Hollywood star; Peeta Mellark was Pete Golightly. It was the same blue eyes, chin, build, height, even his smile was the same. Only his hair was different. Peeta’s blond hair didn’t look like a bottle dye job though. He looked like a natural blond. Either way, Gale wanted to smack himself on the back of his head. His anger had blinded him and he hadn’t made the connection; the missing Hollywood star was hiding here in District Twelve, and now that Hollywood star had seduced the one clueless girl on the entire island that he, Gale, desired.
Gale looked at his phone. Claudius, the reporter was late. Gale had googled the guy last night. Claudius was legit. He worked as an independent photographer for Snow Incorporated; Coriolanus Snow owned several tabloid magazines, and a few reputable newspapers. 
For once Gale was glad Katniss' sister wasn’t at home. He knew Prim wasn’t in the apartment. Vick, his little brother said she was having a slumber party this weekend. Prim shouldn’t have to pay for her sister's indiscretion. 
A cold breeze slipped by. It was cold outside, and it looked like snow was on the way.
Pete or rather Peeta, was inside with Katniss.   
Gale wondered if Katniss knew who Pete really was and if that was why she’d let him into her inner circle. Maybe she was attracted to his fame and fortune. If that was the case, and Katniss turned out to be one of those girls, then what chance did he, a mechanic, have. She would never go for him. And that is why he was waiting for the reporter.
He wanted her to hurt the way he hurt.
He wanted her to be embarrassed the way he was embarrassed at her denial of what he wanted.
He wasn't an idiot. He was smart.
And with the money he was about to make he certainly didn’t want a cheap hussy like Katniss by his side. He was going to get himself a good girl, a girl who wanted him for more than just his looks and money. 
Gale spotted the reporter’s car as it pulled up silently.
“What kind of Blair Witch Project kind of road is this? I swear I was afraid I was going to fall into a ditch and die a few times.” 
“You made it, didn’t you?”
Claudius sighed, “Yeah.”
“You got the money?”
“I need the goods,” Clausidius said.
“Look, I know you think I’m some backward hick living in a hole in the wall, but I know that if you don’t pay me, the best picture you’ll get of Mellark is a picture of him from behind, leaving this house. What I got planned is going to make you notorious.” Gale held up the extra set of keys to the rental. 
The reporter grimaced, but looked at the keys. “Fine,” Claudius said. He got out of his car and pulled out a messenger bag full of  money and handed it to Gale. 
“That's half, that's all I have with me,” Claudius said. 
“Once I get the picture, I’ll get you the other half.”
“Then let's go,” Gale said, striding forward.
-THE STORM
Peeta lazily let his hands drift over Katniss’ arm. They were cuddling, spooning. Her delicious backside was pressed up against his front. She was half-asleep, lulled by their last round of love making. 
Prim told him last night that he needed to tell Katniss the truth.  He was scared. But as Prim said, Katniss knew him. She knew the real him and not the poster board flashy grinning guy he had to portray in the media. Everything was pretend in Hollywood and over the top. He wanted something real and he found it in her. 
His heart melted for her. He was in love for the first time in his life. He loved and was in love with Katniss and this morning he was going to tell Katniss the truth about who he was.
“Katniss,” he whispered into her cheek. 
“Mmmm,” she moans sleepily.  
“Come on, Everdeen,” he nipped at her neck, chin, and earlobe. 
“Go away,” she snuggles into the bed. 
“Katniss,” he tried again. “I’m going to make you cheese buns.”
“Mmmm, cheese buns.”
“And my real name is Peeta Mellark,” he said quietly. 
Her eyes opened, just as the curtains to her room opened and the flash of a camera went off. 
“PEETA MELLARK,” Cluadius shouts as he takes pictures. “Is she what made you leave Hollywood!”
Peeta took his shirt and covered Katniss before he leapt from the bed and pushed Caludius out of the bedroom and out of the apartment.
“Gale?” Katniss asked behind him. 
Peeta saw the tall lanky neighbor with a pleased grin in the shadows as Claudius took pictures. His first instinct was to punch the idiot, because he knew it was Gale that sold them out. His second instinct was to call in the calvary, Haymitch.  
-THE FRENZY
"My sister. They're going to take my sister away," Katniss whispered, pacing back and forth.
“Katniss, I am sorry about this,” Pete says, running his hand through his blond hair. 
She can’t stop the worrying. Then she paused and stared at the man she’d fallen in love, the man who lied to her. “You were trying to tell me...before that...that.”
“I wanted to be honest with you.” He stood and came to stand near her. 
Suddenly she was filled with questions, all of them starting with the word, why. "How did you come up with your name Pete Golightly?”
“Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Audrey Hepbrun’s name is Holly Golightly. It’s the name I use whenever I check into hotels. I changed my name slightly and used Golightly. Only one person knows my alias, a fail safe in case someone needs to reach me in an emergency.” 
“Huh,” Katniss cocked her head. She didn’t like old movies and frankly had never seen it. But she was familiar with the posters of Audry Hepurn standing in front of the jewelry store.  “Breakfast at Tiffany’s, the girl with the black dress.”
“That’s the one.”
“Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Because." He waits a beat before he says, "I was in hiding. I didn’t want to burden you with  knowing. Besides, no one needs me."
Katniss couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. How could anyone not want him, need him.
“But you’re a movie star?” Katniss whispered, wondering how she missed out on the reality that he was Peeta Mellark, the movie star. She had a poster of him when she was younger. But she blinked to focus. Pete was really Peeta. She furrowed her eyebrows as she thought about what she knew about him. She'd seen him during these last few weeks, tested his metal. Carefully she made a list of the things she knew about Peeta, the man. He was smart, strong, generous, kind, sweet, good. At the last word she stopped. Peeta was beyond, just, plain ol' good. He had an inherent goodness that was at the center of his being, and people didn’t see it because they were taken in by the fame.
“Exactly.” He gave her a pointed look. “They need my money, notoriety, fame...but no one needs me. My family,” his voice sounds bitter laced with disappointment. "They only need me and use me for the money in my bank account. My mother sold the spare key to my house for a fee to the tabloids. They went through my home and splayed it in Snow’s publications for the world to see.  When I asked why, my mother said it was because I was a selfish, weak chinned, dumbass who she was going to sue for lost wages. As we speak her lawyers are filing paperwork.” 
He sighed and his eyes saddened. Katniss could see how broken and lost he was, and Katniss reached out to touch his hand. She wonders what kind of woman would do that to her own child.  Katniss had no idea. she didn't read the tabloids or watched shows about movie stars and their sordid lives. She was too busy trying to put food on the table and keep a roof over her and her sister’s heads. 
Sad blue eyes met her fiery silver ones. Katniss wanted to tuck him away and keep him safe.
“I left Hollywood because I was burnt out. I thought no one cared for me. I do not need attention, as Haymitch will attest to, I hate the attention, but I love the work. However, people want the movie star.  They don’t want me Peeta, the guy who would rather hang out, paint or experiment with food. I only have two friends Haymitch, which you’re about to meet and I am apologizing for what Haymitch is, and Finnick Odair.  Yes, that Finnick Odair who runs around in his movies, half naked, half the time."
Kathiss wrinkled her nose at the image of the guy with the Jason Mamoa body, and the devil may care grin. He was, in Delly's words, melt your panties hot. But Katniss didn't find him interesting. "I've been forced to watch a few of his movies."
His eyes lighted and his lips formed a smile at the word forced. 
"Delly." Katniss shrugged. "She thinks he is sultry, but he's not my type." She watched his eyes process the information. "So if you don't have that many friends..." her voice drifted. Gleaning his information about his family, she formulated the question. Katniss didn't have a lot of friends. There was only Delly and Madge. But she also had Prim, her only family,  and even her pacifist her sister would punch bees for her. "What do you do?"
"I sit home most of the time doing laundry. Perfecting my fitted sheet fold."
"You have a thing about laundry."
"Just yours," his heated look caused her pulse racing.
"Peeta," she chastised. He smiled mischievously and picked up the bra that she'd been looking for.
Intense heat flooded her cheeks. She imagined she had to be redder than the child of a tomato and a cherry. She snatched it from his hands. "You need to get back to Hollywood...and why you left."
Peeta cleared his throat. "I really don't do the whole Hollywood thing. I don't party. I don't drink and I don't do drugs. Most of my nights I hang out with Finn and his wife Annie. I do a lot of laundry for Annie. They have an adorable lil boy, a toddler, named Finian. Fin for short, who loves mud. I do their laundry for fun. But outside of them, like I said,  I have no one and I know that no one wants me, so I walked away. I didn’t think anyone would hunt me down. I am sorry.”
Katniss didn’t have a voice momentarily, so she continued to listen.
“I came here, intending to hide out for a few days and then head to District Thirteen. Then I walked into Greasy Sae’s and I couldn’t breath when I saw you and weirdly parallel stalked you…and then I met Prim.”
“What about Prim?” Katniss needed to know everything. It would serve her right that, her super intelligence off the charts, baby sister would figure who Pete really was.
“Prim knows, she figured me out. Within seconds...she knew all of my media history. She's tough, made me sweat.”  
Katniss chuckled. Her baby sister could be exasperating and could be terrifying when she turned on, what Katniss called her smart factor. Prim was a computer able to make calculations about all sorts of things. Katniss was the only one who could match her sister when engaged. But it also reminds Katniss of the pictures of her naked with Peeta.  "Oh the pictures. This isn't good Pete...Peeta."
"Katniss trust me, we'll figure a way out. I swear. My manager Haymitch will know what to do.” Peeta's voice was reassuring.
“No, you don’t understand the state; they will see this as me being irresponsible. They will take my sister away and put her in foster care.” Katniss couldn’t help the way her voice rose. Everything was spinning out of control.  She couldn’t help the tears that fell from her face.
“Listen to me. Haymitch is almost here. He said he has a plan.” He gathered her in his arms and she sighed and trembled. 
All she ever wanted was to make her sister feel safe. She wanted to make her sister feel as if nothing else could go wrong. She closed her eyes. Now she couldn’t do that because a paparazzi had taken naked pictures of her and Pete...Peeta. Naked pictures that would be splashed and splayed all over tabloids and news media outlets.  
Pictures that weren’t Peeta’s fault, but Gale’s. 
Gale sold Peeta out.
“Pete, I mean Peeta,” Katniss couldn’t hide her misery. “Those pictures, they’re going to use them against me. They are going to use them against you too.”
His eyes warmed. 
His cell phone beeped.  He looks at his phone. “Delly’s here.”  Delly was bringing Prim home. There was another ping. He frowned looking at the phone then said, “...and so is Haymitch.”
He gave her a look, as if pleading with her to trust him. He looked so vulnerable. Katniss expelled a breath. She’d question if she should trust him. A single word enters her mind. Together.
Taking his hand in hers. "There isn’t anyone I would rather do this with."
He chuckled. "You’re so fierce, like an Amazon."
Katniss grinned. "You haven't seen me with my bow."
"You’re so amazing."
Their hands threaded together. She was going to protect Peeta because the whirlwind of pain stopped here.
Let the storm commence.
"Together," Peeta said with hope.
 "Together."
-THE BUCK STOPS AT LA
Peeta opened his mouth to speak as Haymitch entered the garage. The kid’s text message that Claudius broke into the girl's apartment and took pictures of them in-flagrante had him calling in the troops. He had less than an hour to spin and control the narrative. Naked pictures of the kid wouldn’t have meant anything to Haymitch if it were another client, but the kid had a stellar track record. It meant the world. He sent a text to his contact, another favor. The kid was going to owe him big.
"Save it, kid," he said gruffly. He needed a drink, hell, he needed an entire bottle of whisky.  "Flipping burnt flapjacks, kid, if you needed a break." His eyes scanned the small interior. His car was bigger on the inside than this place. "I could have helped you."
"Haymitch," Peeta looked behind him at the girl and her sister.
"I'm sorry," Prim said quietly. "I wanted to tell you. But Peeta needed to feel safe."
"I know." Katniss nodded curtly. 
Peeta's love interest had the personality of a dead slug. His phone pinged. Haymitch hid his eavesdropping. His eyes focused on Peeta. The kid was more than just a client; he was like family. 
Haymitch lowered his voice. "I know this had to do with your family. So I let you go, my mistake. And I'm not letting anyone ruin you for a paycheck. Now introduce me."
"Haymitch, this is Katniss Everdeen and her sister Primrose.
It only took Haymitch seconds for him to assess the situation.
The little sister Primrose was sugary sweet, adorable. Her wide baby blue eyes held intelligence and goodness. The world was going to love her. 
His grey eyes met the girl. "Listen Sweetheart, if you’re going to survive this, you've got to listen to me."
His grey eyes watched the kid with the girl. He hid his grin when she scowled at his nickname for her.  He could see her bristle, before her eyes shuttered closed, almost like a camera lense quickly shifting to block out light. "Okay, lovebirds, Cinna is here. And Caesar is waiting outside to interview you both." 
"Haymitch," Peeta said, taking a step forward to protect both of the women in his arms. This behavior he expected from the kid.
Sweetheart’s behavior though surprised him. When Katniss glanced at Peeta, she transformed into a fiery creature that is so pure and majestic. Haymitch realized Sweetheart was a lot like him. Tender hearted, fiercely loyal, with a tough exterior. Haymitch knew the girl was smitten with Peeta himself, and not the Hollywood facade. This he could work with. 
"Haymitch, Katniss is Primrose's guardian. The pictures Claudius took are salacious and damning." Peeta glanced back at Katniss before moving forward. “She can't afford to have them come out. We need to make sure they are protected."
"Look, I can sell this star-crossed lover." As expected Sweetheart scowled. Good, Haymitch thought; he wanted her to go into combat mode. "You guys will tell Caesar the truth." As Haymitch spoke he was furiously typing on the keypad of his phone. "He's broadcasting it onto a live audience. People love a good love story. Any pictures Claudius has will be seen as intrusive."
Haymitch opened the door to Cinna who arrived with the prep team. 
"How long do we have?"
"15 minutes tops," Haymitch said.
Cinna nodded. The team hauled in dresses, makeup, lights, and things Haymitch was sure the Everdeen women had never seen. 
"What the hell is going on here?"
Haymitch turned to meet a woman who looked to be six feet tall. Her sharp eyes glance at Sweetheart. Haymitch guessed this was landlady by her agitated face. 
"Hazelle," Sweetheart said, and he could see that she wanted to cry, but she built up a wall. This wasn't a friend, but the woman was an authority figure. Someone Sweetheart looked up to. 
“Katniss what is going on? Why are all these people trespassing? Gale called me and said that you had all of these people here.”
Sweetheart was easy to read.  She was pissed at the name Gale. He quietly glanced at the kid who’s eyes ticked also at the sound of Gale’s name. 
“Who is Gale?” Haymitch abruptly asked, not caring about the woman before him. He knew Gale was related to Hazelle but he wanted to know what part this idiot had in this fiasco.
“Gale is my son, and this is my property.”
Sweetheart looked agitated, and he wondered if this Gale was the reason he was here. The reason the kid and sweetheart were in this mess.  Peeta mouthed Claudius to him and confirmed his suspicions. “You rent to her?” Haymitch narrowed his eyes. 
“Yes.” Hazelle bit back. “I want…” 
Haymitch got in her way, stopping her torrent of words. His phone pinged, and he got what he was waiting for, the pictures, from an insider at the tabloid Claudius sold the pictures to.  As he's suspected, the money shot wasn't of Peeta, it was of Peeta with Sweetheart. Haymitch then saw why Peeta was upset. Because the pictures showed how vulnerable the kid's other half was. It was Sweetheart’s whose life would be ruined. Her name raked through hot coals and muck. This was the intention of Hazelle’s son, and Haymitch scratched the words 'Hazelles son' and for the first time in years he cursed, that rat bastard. “Then you know your son allowed a paparazzi into your renter’s apartment and let him take pictures of my client and his girlfriend while they were asleep?”
Her eyes widened with shock. “My son would never…”
“Really,” Haymitch held his phone up and. “I believe that is your son in the background with a smug grin on his face. He violated the renter’s agreement to be notified before entering the residence. He also is a slimy, no good worm for doing that to her.” Haymitch said, “Hope you’re proud of your son.” 
Hazelle’s eyes lost her indignation. "I..."  
"I suggest you lawyer up. I've just sent the information to my client’s lawyer, Johanna Mason. I suggest you call your son and tell him he can kiss the money he made goodbye." 
"Johanna?" Peeta questioned.
Haymitch grinned wickedly. Peeta hadn't wanted to do anything about his mother, but Haymitch went behind his back to procure Hollywood's number one ball busting lawyer Johanna Mason. She gleefully was preparing the paperwork against Snow; the woman loathed the man. She already had an injunction against the images. "Don't worry Kid, she's doing this pro-bono. Now go get pretty. You go live with Caesar in less than ten."
-THE INTERVIEW
Caesar Flickerman was like a circus ringleader. Literally dressed like a ringleader with a red jacket, black lapels, and gold trimming. His hair was jet black and his smile was a little too crazed for Katniss' liking. She squared her shoulders, looking at Haymitch who raised an eyebrow and his eyes slid to the camera letting her know she was not acting like the doting girlfriend. It caused her to gaze at Peeta who took her hand and squeezed it. The butterflies that were eerily silent until this very moment were having a championship hockey match inside of her stomach.
She was so uncomfortable. In ten minutes she’d been waxed, pealed, and poured into clothing with price tags that made her head spin. The jean’s she wore cost more than her rent. She and her sister were sitting on either side of Peeta. Primrose looked beautiful, her blonde hair combed and styled to perfection. Cinna and his assistants dressed her in a graphic t-shirt dress and distressed jacket. She wore lace up black ankle boots. Prim was excited for the fashion and Katniss' heart twisted because she could never afford to give her sister any of this. 
Looking down at her hands, she thought this was all surreal. 
There were cameras, glaring lights, this fuzzy long thing that hung right above her head. It was hot and uncomfortable. It was also live.
Caesar was speaking to the camera about them. 
It was too much. Those butterflies that were playing hockey now drove dune buggies. Her eyes looked for an exit. She didn’t know how Peeta did it, being on center stage. 
Sensing her discomfort, Peeta put his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer. Katniss sighed, looking up at him. The sooty lashes that Peeta's prep team glued to her lids stuck together and she blinked to  separate them; this is why she didn't wear makeup.
Peeta might have read the wrong signal because he leaned in and brushed a kiss on her lips. Then his lips trailed from the cleft of her lips to her cheeks to her ear. "You okay?" he whispered.
Katniss could feel heat flush her face as she realized Peeta had found a way to communicate without breaking the charade. Katniss whispered, "My fake lashes keep on sticking together. And I loathe make up!"
The low rumble in his chest meant he was caught off guard.
She wanted to hide her grin, and he wiggled his eyebrows. There was the loveable goofball who had an unnatural love of all things laundry. Say the words fabric softener and he became a puppy with a favorite toy.
He roughly whispered, "You're amazing!"
He gently brushed her lashes and adjusted the troublesome lash before moving away.
"Look at you two, what a beautiful couple!" Caesar gushed.
For those few seconds Katniss was grateful for the man's exuberance; it's as if he was on their side.  
“So what happened Peeta?” Caesar said with notes of sincerity. “Why did you walk away?”
Peeta leaned forward and Katniss slipped her hand in his. 
“It was the whole thing with my parents.” Peeta’s voice hid nothing of the pain; he shared it with the world. “My mother sold me to the highest bidder, and,” Katniss squeezed his hand. “They went through my home. I felt violated, and unable to feel safe.”
Caesar said, “I recall that wasn’t that long ago.”
“The pressure, sadness, and betrayal were eating me up and I needed to step away.  I am not a drinker or a guy who enjoys partying.” Peeta shrugged. “I’m a homebody. I’m more domestic.” 
Katniss thought of his love of laundry and the butterflies in her stomach settled.   
Caesar laughed. “Domestic.”
“He makes great pastries,” Prim said. Her eyes were wide and lovely. 
“Pastries?” Caesar asked. 
“Here you want some?” Prim held up a bag of cookies. “They are heavenly.”
“PRIM,” Katniss huffed. “I’m so sorry.”
Peeta grinned.  “You see Caesar, this is what I needed.”
Caesar laughed. “Tell me who are these lovely ladies…”
“This is Primrose Everdeen,” Peeta introduced. 
“Hi Caesar,” Prim said. “Seriously though you need to try these cookies.” Prim opened the brown bag and handed one to Caesar.
“Well, alright,” Caesar looked at the cookie as if tasting it was going to make him gain three hundred pounds. 
“It’s gluten free, dairy free, and nut free,” Prim smiled. 
The camera zoomed into Caesar’s face and Katniss witnesses the power of Peeta’s bakery take down another person. The celebrity interviewers face turners into one of pure rapture. “Peeta, you must give me the recipe.”
“Sorry his baked goods are all mine,” Prim said. 
Caesar laughed. “Oh she is precious. But tell me who is this sitting next to you?”
“Caesar this is Katniss Everdeen.”
The butterflies were back and they had jackhammers. 
“She’s the reason I stayed actually. They aren’t the reason I walked away, but they are the reason I didn’t go back” Peeta confessed. His voice softened, his eyes held notes of tenderness as he spoke, “These two women mean the world to me.”
Even the hardened Hollywood crew sighed at Peeta’s words. 
“I met him first,” Prim said. “But I needed to make sure he had good intentions toward my sister.” 
“Katniss,” Caesar asked, “You’ve been so quiet.”
Katniss glanced at her sister and then at Peeta, unaware of the way her face transformed and caused the world to fall in love with her. She transcended into something fierce and wildly beautiful. 
The camera scanned down to the way her hands were intertwined with Peeta’s. 
“When did you fall for him? Did you know who Peeta was?”
Katniss couldn’t stop staring into Peeta’s blue eyes. “I didn’t know who he was; I was clueless.” Her voice trembled, “All I know is that he was so kind and generous.” She stared, not at the camera but at Caesar. “And when I found out who he was and what happened I just couldn’t understand why any mother would want to hurt their child like that.”   
Peeta smiled softly then he looked at Caesar, “Now you know why I stayed.” Peeta then placed a kiss on her lips and then said, “What I didn’t expect was another invasion of privacy.” 
 -AMERICAN SWEETHEARTS
“You alright?” Peeta tucked a strand of her hair behind Katniss' ear. She looked gorgeous. Cinna had outdone himself. She wore a red dress that looked like poured molten fire on her skin. Peeta couldn’t wait to get back home and strip her out of it. 
“I am.” 
He watched her hands shake. The Oscars was the superbowl of the movie industry. Peeta held her hand. Outside the limo, there were about a thousand reporters and wall to wall fans.  This was overwhelming for her and he was the professional. He could just imagine what it was like for a girl who would rather sit in the chair of a sadistic dentist sans novacaine than to be thrust into the controlled mêle that existed outside the limo’s door.
“You don’t have to go in with me; you can stay in the car. You can go back to the hotel, rent a movie, jump on the bed, steal all of the toiletries in the room, and if you are feeling dangerous," Peeta lowered his voice an octave, "rip the tags off the mattress.”
Katniss narrowed her eyes at him. He watched her struggle to keep the laughter she wanted to expel over his ridiculous suggestion. He, of course, made reference to the small argument they were having over her purity. 
It started with Finnick doing his whole Daniel Craig, James Bond thing where he came out of the water. Finnick was messing with her and Katniss disliked him. She proceeded to give Finnick, ‘if he were in her woods he'd be in big trouble’ looks throughout the barbeque. 
Peeta told her, Finnick was only messing with her because she was pure.  And Katniss bristled, and fought that she wasn't pure. But Peeta didn't mean it in a sexual way. He meant it in the way that she was pure of heart. Katniss had a pure heart. Like the hero's of old, she was valiant and although tough as nails, she was forgiving. Gale betrayed her and she was mulling over forgiving him.
After Caesar's interview, Peeta and Katniss’ relationship was cemented in the public eye. Haymitch was able to control the narrative since Katniss led a normal life and wasn't like Finnick, who had so many hidden skeletons in his closet. Haymitch was taking care of the Everdeen women, mentoring them. He had an affinity for Prim and Katniss. They understood one another because Haymitch had lost his family as well, and he had tried to raise his brother, but they were separated and sent into foster homes. 
Haymitch hired Johanna to help Katniss retain her custody of Prim. They were seeking visas for all three of them. Peeta to travel in and out of Panem, and For Katniss and Prim. 
Johanna, spurred by the public outcry over the second violation of his privacy, wanted Snow and his tabloids prosecuted for invasion of privacy of someone who wasn't in the limelight. Gale and Claudius were arrested for, breaking and entering and some other misdemeanor charges. Claudius was facing a harder climb because he was an outsider. Because of Katniss, there was clemency for Gale. And that brought him back to why Katniss was pure. She didn't even know the effect she had on people or how she inspired others.  
Peeta reached out and put his hand on top of hers. “No, I can do this,” she said.
He knew this was not easy, but as she sat perched at the edge of her seat, he thought about how Katniss became his family. How she encouraged him to take on meaningful roles, and to pursue directing and production. They were both still young, but he knew from the moment his eyes met hers in Greasy Sae's diner he was a goner. His feelings for Katniss multiplied as time passed and they worked through each hurdle together. 
Looking at her, Peeta knew without a doubt Katniss had strong feelings for him as well. She wasn't someone who used words; she spoke with her actions. Katniss fought by his side. Simple things she did. Like making his tea the way he liked it without sugar and milk. Opening the window before they went to sleep because she knew he liked to sleep with a window open. Googling how to make natural paints, then going out into nature and gathering supplies to make the paint for him. It spoke volumes.
"I love you," the words slipped out of his lips. 
Her eyes widened.
"You don't have to say it back to me, because I know that you care about me. You do a hundred little things in the day to show me the depths of your emotions toward me." 
He watched as a smile curved her lips. Her silvery eyes sparkled, greater than sunlight glittering on the surface of water. She stole his breath away. All he ever wanted was to be needed, loved, and here was the personification of that need.
"I need you Peeta," she rasped. He could hear and see the depth of emotion in her eyes. "I love you." 
He leaned in and with shaking hands cupped her face. Suddenly he didn’t want to be at the Oscars. Peeta wanted to be in a private room to show her with his words, his mouths, his hands, and his body just how much he loved this woman. “Screw the Oscars, let's get out of here.” 
Her eyes turned mischievous, “Oh hell no. I wasn’t plucked, creamed and stuffed into this dress like a holiday turkey by Cinna and his prep team just to turn around and leave. We’re going to walk that carpet, we’re gonna sit in our seats, and do this shindig, because as much as I like pissing off Haymitch, I don’t think we should give him a heart attack by not showing up.”
Peeta laughed. There she was pushing her own discomfort for him. “And afterwards?”
“Win or lose, Pete Golightly, you’re taking this dress off with your teeth.” She threw him a mischievous look, “And then we’re going to grab some fabric sheets and sniff them.”
The door opened and Peeta was stunned by her description. Heat and desire poured through his veins. He now had a boner. Then a slow smile spread on his face he was going to go home a winner no matter what.  Laughter erupted from his lips, though from the fabric sheets comment and the sheer joy on his face was the picture that was captured by the press.
Peeta did win the Oscar, and he did go home, and he did tear off her dress with his teeth. And afterwards they did laundry all night long. He was after all, a man of his word. 
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hankwritten · 3 years
Text
Keep in a Cool Dry Place
Demoman/Soldier, 3k
A couple of old, past their prime mercs live out their days, but at least they’re slowly breaking down together.
Oftentimes, Jane would go out onto the deck to find Tavish fixed in place, chin tilted skywards, soaking up the stars for all they were worth. He could be like that, sometimes for hours, eye glossy against the Milky Way as he stood so still he could make a statue proud.
“You’re up awful late,” he said to Jane, unmoving. Probably had realized Jane had been watching for a while now.
“Could say the same to you,” Jane said, pulling himself into a deck chair with a great cascade of air from his smoker’s lungs, the grunt of an old man he always thought was an exaggerated affectation until it started happening to him.
“I don’t get up at five in the morning,” Tavish reminded him.
“You could. Good for the health, Tavish.”
“I don’t think anything’s good for the health these days. Just bad, and slightly worse.” He drummed his fingers on the deck’s railing. “C’mere, look at this.”
“I can see the damn stars just fine from here,” Jane sniffed.
Tavish broke from his surveying to shoot a grin Jane’s way, features cut sharp in the porch light. “Come on you old fart, get over here.”
Jane grumbled, pushing out of the chair with more effort than he would have liked to admit. He made his way to Tavish, joining him at the railing, their shoulders brushing just briefly until Tavish swung an arm around Jane’s waist.
His voice took on a fading quality all of the sudden, as though far away winds were dragging him skyward. “Nice night, isn’t it?”
Jane watched him. In the past few years his good eye had grown white in the center, a fuzzy film growing out from the pupil that would one day take the whole cornea. It was irreversible, Tavish had explained, years of buildup from stromnium or strotenium or something like that, Jane could never remember. Tavish wasn’t surprised, had told Jane that he was shocked he’d still had the thing this long, but that didn’t mean there was no mourning within the man. It was just different than how most people would have gone about it.
“Sure is,” Jane said. “Real beautiful.”
“Aye. And you ‘n me, we’re not seeing the half of it. Those telescopes, the ones the size of whole buildings, all they have is a bunch of different magnifying glasses and yet when they put ‘em all together you can see whole galaxies that weren’t there before. Same sky, just some folks can see it, some folks can’t.”
“You can still see it,” Jane reminded him, a gentle bump to the shoulder.
“For now,” Tavish agreed. He turned, smiling with just the corner of his mouth, a testament that was gone before Jane could fully appreciate how much he loved the small, sad ways he chose to be happy. A hand came up to brush the side of Jane’s cheek. “I just keep thinking about how one of these days will be the last day I see you.”
Their foreheads came together. Jane’s hand rose to cover the one across his cheek, thumb rubbing the small band of gold on Tavish’s finger. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe this; despite the decades, despite the promises made on cold desert nights, despite watching the grey hairs spring in Tavish’s beard and knowing the same was happening to him, it was still hard to fathom that someone had chosen to spend the rest of their life with him. Even though the years with Tavish came close to outnumbering the years without, that time in Jane’s life of infinite loneliness, of stubborn self sufficiency, made him question how he was ever lucky enough that someone had hung on their sense and decided he was worth it.
Jane pulled Tavish closer. “Yeah. Well. If you’re going to keep a last image of me in your head, I really wish it was back when I was still handsome.”
Tavish laughed, swaying them both slightly in the unusually still air. Normally winds rattled the badlands, stirring up loose sand and seething through plants too hardy to notice. It felt like, for once, the world had chosen to be kind this night, just for them.
“You get handsomer every day Jane,” Tavish said, and hidden behind the words were each day I love you more. “I just…miss.”
“Miss how things used to be?”
“More than that. I’ve got the ‘ole yearning, I suppose, the eater of men.” Tavish chewed his words, looking up at the sky again. “I miss places. I miss how everything used to feel, even if it wasn’t terribly good.”
“Not talking about going back to your home planet, are you?” Jane joked, jerking his thumb at the now witnessed stars.
“No,” Tavish snorted. “Not exactly. But I…” He trailed off.
Now it was Jane’s turn to bring his hands to the sides of Tavish’s face, his own ring warm from where he’d been cradling it inside his fist. “What is it, Tav? You can tell me.”
Tavish looked not at the stars nor the horizon, but the ground, kicking the wooden deck neither of them had ever gotten around to re-staining. “I feel…I feel the hills always calling out to me. Like there’s something in my bones that just wants to rest, to go back where it’s green, to where it isn’t so bloody dry. Every time we visit I think ‘is this the last time I’ll ever see it? The very last time? Am I going to be too old or too tired the next time around, and never feel like I’m home again?’”
Jane watched the worry lines in Tavish’s forehead. “You want to go back to Scotland.”
“I dunno. Just the more my eye goes the more I…I dunno.”
They hung in silence for a while longer, just breathing. Jane hadn’t felt the need to wear his helmet for a long time, not at home, not at this mansion that was their private oasis from the rest of the world. Were money made their problems—if not vanish—then kept far back beyond the fence where they never had to think about them unless they ventured beyond. Where, even with BLU’s protection no longer keeping the various chapters of local and federal law enforcement trying to wrangle some comeuppance out of the soldier for sins past, he still had a place of refuge.
“Let’s go,” Jane said.
Tavish looked away. “I don’t mean for a visit Jane, I mean…”
“I know,” Jane insisted. Tavish’s milky eye fixed him with disbelief. “You want to go home. I get it. We should go.”
Tavish stared at him, still uncomprehending. “Jane you know that would mean…”
“I know,” Jane repeated.
A warm, subtle smile filled Tavish’s face, and neither of them had to say any more. Tavish drew Jane in closer, and the two of them rocked in the wind that had just picked up again.
***
“Jane,” Tavish frowned as he examined the box Jane had dropped thunderously at the bottom of the stairs, “do you really need to bring all of these?”
“Hey, I’m not trying to make you get rid of your treasured possessions,” Jane pointed out, depositing a second box filled entirely with Guns & Haircuts net to the first.
“We’re not going to have space for these,” Tavish retorted. “It’s going to be a tiny little thing, remember? They don’t build mansions in Ullapool.”
Moving had left the New Mexico mansion barren and faded where pictures had hung on the wall since Tavish had first moved in. Now they were all gone, sold off as their attempts to downsize left only what was necessary and a few DeGroot family heirlooms.
It twisted something in Jane to see their home of three decades slowly dismantled into carpet scuffs and cardboard boxes. This had been his dwelling longer than any other, a turning point from when the Gravel Wars had folded in on themselves and left Jane with an odd freedom he had no idea if he was allowed to act on. Even before that, when Tavish’s mother had still been alive and the halls were filled with her vigor, this place was safe haven for Jane, where he’d come to meet with his forbidden friend and get wasted in his living room.
Now it was mostly empty. Ready for the last goodbyes.
“These are important,” Jane declared of the boxes.
“You haven’t read them in ages,” Tavish pointed out.
“So? They are valuable. Scout sold his whole Bonk! Boy collection for a fortune, and I’ve got twice as many as that little squirt does!” Jane cleared his throat suddenly. “Did.”
It was hard to remember sometimes. He thought his old teammates would want nothing to do with him after the end, but to his surprise they actually kept in contact better than when they’d actually worked together. Maybe owing to the fact he now had an actual address they could send letters to.
Neither Spy nor Sniper had ever actually retired, and over time the tepid, passably courteous correspondences with Sniper had stopped a few years after Spy disappeared entirely. Jane assumed something similar had happened to them both. Occupational hazard.
Engie had complications with his diabetes. The remaining team had shown up for the funeral, except for Pyro, who everyone politely wouldn’t mention, even when Jane asked.
The one person Jane hadn’t expected to outlive was Scout. Scout didn’t write, but he could talk anyone’s ear off, and when coming home from the second funeral in as many years it hit Jane hard that he’d never hear the kitchen phone ringing off its holder again, practically trembling as the other line was just dying to tell him about whatever exactly Scout was so wound up about today.
Tavish noticed Jane’s slipup, and kindly ignored it. Nearly ten years, and Jane still found himself forgetting. “That’s because they were comics,” Tavish explained. “They were collectors items. The only person collecting Guns & Haircuts is you.”
“And don’t I know it!”
Tavish sighed. “Are you even planning on selling them, or are you just going to do the same thing you’ve done with them here and leave them in a big box to gather dust?”
“Of course I’m going to leave them in a big box!” Jane huffed proudly. “What other purpose is there in life other than to gather material objects and then have them accumulate in piles in your living room? You do not see me complaining about the giant, wall mounted family crest, do you?”
Tavish rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighed as an old argument became even older. “Ach, fine. I suppose we’ll fine the space.” When he opened his eye, he saw the third giant box Jane was hauling out for the movers. “Jane! We don’t need to be taking that.”
“Yes we do, sonny!” Jane said, slapping a hand on the trumpet of the old record player he hadn’t been able to properly fit in the box. “I do not trust those cassette tapes! The snakes that live in them always try to come out and strangle me!”
“We’ve got some CDs now-” Tavish tried.
“Even worse!” Jane declared. “Australian mind control devices!”
Tavish could see he wasn’t winning, which was just fine by Jane. The magazines were one thing, but the record player he wasn’t leaving without.
“Well,” Tavish said, looking around their house, stripped bare. “I suppose that’s everything.”
Jane couldn’t find a reason to object. He glanced around, looking for one last missing detail, one more reason to stall, but found none. Gently, he took Tavish’s hand and squeezed. “Everything we need.”
***
Scotland was even wetter than the last time they’d visited.
Mud, the most distantly remembered and ancient of substances, clung to Jane’s pant leg all the way up to the knee as they made their way down hundred-year old paths someone really should’ve figured out how to weather-proof by now. But, where Jane was grumbling, Tavish looked about as happy as a clam in water. (Or, Jane supposed was more fitting, a pig in mud.)
“Aha! Look, there it is,” Tavish said, tugging on Jane’s arm and pointing at the glimpse of water creeping around the bend. “Still there.”
“I don’t think they would have up and moved a whole lake while you were gone,” Jane mumbled, but Tavish didn’t seem to hear as he moved with surprising speed down the hill. It was times like this Jane actually envied the cane.
When he finally caught up, Tavish was breathing in the thick air, his chest rising and then collapsing with a satisfied sigh. “Used to play down here as lad. Sometimes there’s a beach, far as the eye can see.”
“Thought you were done with sand,” Jane said, stomping up next to him on damp boots.
Tavish just breamed broadly at him, drinking in the sweep of the land and the crash of the lake. Jane could remember the stories, ones from Tavish’s childhood much better than his own, told and retold so many times that he could flip open the memories like a scrapbook and find exactly where every place in Ullapool fit. An old pub, a crumbling church. The house where the DeGroots used to live, the field where Merasmus’s castle had once briefly towered. So vivid were they, they superimposed themselves over Jane’s (admittedly more insubstantial) memories until he felt he had lived here himself.
“…Gettin’ dark, Tav,” Jane pointed out.
Tavish frowned, and squinted at the horizon. “Aye, I suppose it is.”
“Think the movers are done?” Jane didn’t approve of hiring other people to life heavy things when lifting heavy things had once been one of Jane’s favorite pastimes, but Tavish convinced him that if he threw out his back again, it’d be a lot harder to get him to a doctor.
“Probably,” Tavish nodded. “Let’s go see.”
“Do you think they dropped my magazines?”
“I’m sure they’re fine, love.”
They made the long, much more slippery journey back to their new home. It overlooked Ullapool and the coast, but was nevertheless removed enough that Jane could revel in the privacy he had grown used to. Privacy was not on Tavish’s mind when they’d walked through town that first time, however, as he’d greeted nearly everyone who came their way. It had shocked Jane how many people knew him, or at least recognized the DeGroot name, and greeted Tavish as familiarly as they would have had he been gone for only a few weeks rather than years.
It was good, to see Tavish like this. Even now, as they climbed slowly back up the hill, Jane watched him out the corner of his eye, smiling at the look of serenity that hadn’t been on his husband’s face so naturally in years.
“Isn’t this cozy,” Tavish said lovingly as they crossed the threshold of their new home.
That it was. Jane had worried he had grown soft living in luxury, that his years of being rich and retied would make him forgot that he’d once loved his little apartment, had cherished the security its simplicity had given him. But now that he was back inside four walls, surrounded by the items that had come to mean things beyond their purpose, a swell of pleasant familiarity welled up in him. The curtains blocked out the last of the fading light through soft yellow. There was a fireplace (modern and gas powered) but one ready to fill the house with a warm glow.
Tavish made the motions to begin unpacking, but Jane’s pretense of rooting though the boxes had a different goal in mind. Preoccupied, Tavish didn’t turn around until Jane finally slipped the record into place.
Perking, Tavish looked over his shoulder to see Jane offering his hand as the music bubbled slowly to life. “Been a long time since we danced,” Jane said.
Tavish’s smile fit well in this homey, quiet room. He took Jane’s hand, and let Jane pull him up off his knees until they were chest to chest, resting his chin on Jane’s shoulder.
“Too long,” he agreed.
They began sway rhythmlessly to music in the middle of the tiny living room, caring little where they put their feet as long as it wasn’t one top of one another. Jane loved the record player, needed it more these days, as it was one of the only things that made the horrid, incessant ringing in his ears quiet for just a short while. Leaving the fan on at night might help him get to sleep, but the was no denying the scratching notes out of the player were a world more enjoyable.
It was piano piece, one he’d heard Tavish play now and again. There was no space for a grand piano here in this little cottage on the hill, but maybe they could get a smaller one, and Tavish could try teaching him again. Like he’d promised so long ago.
So many promises that’d slipped through the cracks, both to each other and themselves. Things they simply couldn’t do anymore. Ever since the scare with Jane’s lung cancer, they had tried to do better, had realized what they had built meant something and they couldn’t go piddling away with their complacent recklessness. Jane had quit smoking, Tavish had quit drinking as part of the deal.
But still, there were other things, other mistakes that had compounded over the years. Jane always kept thinking he should have been over it by now, that for how many gentle touches Tavish had placed against him, he should forget the violence those same hands had once brought him. The times they’d shoved a sword into Jane’s gut. The bombs from nowhere. The individual atrocities. It was duller now, the years had been good enough to do that, but if Tavish’s memories were anything like Jane’s, he understood why the ex-demoman sometimes woke screaming in the middle of the night, needing to be reminded—soothed, assured, sometimes begged—that the Jane beside him wasn’t the monster from his dreams.
That was the real tragedy of the War. Officially, all they had been paid to do was kill each other—the horrors they chose to inflict on one another had been their own doing, their own wills brought to fruition. RED had never asked Tavish to shove Jane’s shovel down its owner's throat, laughing vengefully all the while. Jane was sure he’d done equally as cruel things to Tavish during those hell times, but had trouble recalling exactly what. It’s much easier to remember the sins committed against you, than those you have unleashed yourself.
Those hands, those bloodstained, gentle, perfect hands, rubbed circles and Jane’s back, and he sighed. He’d listened to this record enough to know it was getting to the end of this side, but he found he didn’t want to move. He wanted to keep standing here, swaying with the man he loved in their home in the mountains, remembering that they had earned this.
“I cherish these moments we spend together,” he said resolutely into Tavish’s chest.
“Every one of them,” Tavish agreed.
Eventually they would lay down, rest their old bones in their new bed, but for now they held each other in the slowly encroaching night, the sound of rain playing its first patter on the roof.
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sweetstrawberry-jam · 3 years
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Minus Hex Hc
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OK SO If any of ya’ll don’t know this is official art of Minus Hex and lemme tell ya me and my friends went off on ideas for him, theres no info about Minus Hex so anything i talk about here is pure Hc i have came up with overall. So lets begin So We always thought this Hex looked rather gentle and soft compared to normal Hex who seems more energetic, so we came up with the idea “what if he was a sort of helper/ Therapy robot “ and we went from there. -Story/idea i wrote- Hex was created by a high tech company, he was commissioned by the family of an old rich man, he was wasn’t well and the family had no time to take care of him, so they asked the company to create a caretaker type/ Therapy  robot and so the manufacturer made Hex. In fact Hex was the first Model, and he was the first to actually run on solar and to be programed to do such a serious task, he was pretty much a prototype, the company wanted to see if this could be successful for future use, so they used the Old man as a  sort of guinea pig coming by to get reports on how well Hex was doing. Overall the beginning of Hex’s life was rather simple, he wasn’t anything like he is now, he was only programed to help the man, he wasn’t given a personality he wasn’t supposed to have one, he wasn’t even supposed to gain a full thought process outside of, ‘take care of old man’.  The company would note how successful the project was as Hex was doing as told, and was taking care of the man and the house, though the man himself wished the robot would do more then just say ‘yes sir’ and ‘no sir’ The company didn’t really care about that, after seeing how well Hex was doing they began to plan to mass produce robots like him, and once the man died they would make Hex obsolete and scrapped him using his parts for other better robots. But something happen that really none expected, overtime as Hex spent more time with the lonely man he started to gain more and more of a conscious he was taking out to see the world, and saw how others interacted something clicked in his system, it all started because he started to play basketball while the man was resting, though the man caught him one day, but instead of being upset, He was happy to see this, encouraging Hex to keep trying new things  the two grew a strong bond after that they would spend hours talking and the old man would show Hex how to bake and even how to sing, for once the man truly felt like he wasn’t alone. Hex would still do his job taking care of the man, and taking care of the home but he developed a complete personality and he even had his own opinions and thoughts. When the manufacturers came by and saw this they were in shock to say the least, they couldn’t understand how this happen, they saw it as some kind of malfunction and now they were worried their new care taker robots they wanted to sell would end up the same way, and that meant they couldn’t control them. The company offered to take Hex and program him back to his original state, or even just scraped him (mainly so they can take him apart and figure out why this all happened), but the old man refused saying “This robot is more of a friend to me then any Human i met..i won’t let you take my friend” Now the company can’t do anything until the rich man dies and they would have ownership of Hex again. So for the rest of the old mans life, Hex stayed by his side chatting taking care and just..listening Hex was happy and felt like he was fulfilling his purpose, even though he manage to reprogram his system and basically gain a soul in a sense, he could never get rid of his main function..Taking care and helping, Hex was always prepared to do whatever needed to be done..but no matter what, nothing prepared him for death, The robot could never forget the last interaction with his old friend before he passed on All in a flash before Hex knew it he was gone, and he gain a new emotion..sadness, now that the man has passed on the Company was ready to get Hex and scrap him for good, but there was a problem, the old man rewrote his will he gave everything to Hex when and made sure legally the company can't do anything to Hex.
So Hex was free, he didn’t have to worry about the company scraping him, though the problem was... Hex was lonely he was stuck in a large house on his own none to sing with none to talk to, for awhile it was hard, but Hex started going out more, even started playing Basketball with the local children, and then met Minus Gf and Bf, and after that Hex found Whitty, and then Carol And Finally Hex felt like he was truly fulfilling his purpose, by helping and taking care of those he can and not to mention gaining more friendships then he never thought he would He truly feels happy and will do whatever he can to help others. (I don’t write a lot so forgive me if this isn’t great) -Extra Hc- -  Hex learned other emotions over time such as happy, sad ect but due to his programing he can’t go over the top with his emotions, he has a rather calm versions of these emotions,when he’s excited it is very hard to tell as it looks about the same comparing it to his normal happy face.- Hex can’t raise his voice very loud, as he is meant to be a comfort caretaker, so his voice needed to be gentle and calm in order to not panic the one he takes care of, he was never given a loud voice box.
 -  None really knows how Hex manage to gain a personality, when he first started out he pretty much had no emotions and would just do as told, but as he did errands for the old rich man, he started to see the world and see how people acted, and something in him changed and he began to research more about life in his own little ways . - If Hex goes through a full reboot and doesn’t have his memory bank loaded in yet, he will be resorted to his original state before he gained his personality, he will remain like this until his Memory Bank gets restored in his reboot. - Given he is pretty much the first robot of his kind Hex is not perfect, he still has some flaws he is not built to fight so you could beat him pretty easily (and maybe break him a bit) he can also get hacked into pretty easily when his guard is down (Though his guard is not that strong to begin with) and if a virus gets in he can reboot to get it out, but his battery gets drained quite a bit and he will have to recharge after words. The robot is also not waterproof  - Hex loves charities he learned a lot about them thanks to the old rich man, as the two grew a bond the man began to take Hex to many charity events, he wanted to show the robot how important it was to do your part when you could, and the old man didn’t feel like he was wasting money on this, in fact it was a privilege to him to be apart of this and do all he can for others. That spoke to Hex a lot and after the man passed Hex continued on what the old rich man did and goes to many charity events and donates he knows that's what his friend would’ve wanted .- In the beginning the relationship between the old rich guy and Hex was a bit rough, Hex didn’t have a personality and the old rich man was a bit cold to him, given he felt his family just left him with something that he can’t talk to or even relate to, but slowly as Hex gain his personality the Man began to notice, even catching him playing basketball after gaining more a interested in it, and the man encouraged it rather than deny Hex any of these interest, in fact he began to show the robot things more even going out to show him the town more, and the man began to open up more to Hex showing really he was a good guy. - Hex loves gardening, it is a very peaceful time for him, he started gaining a love for it, after finding the garden room the old man had and wasn’t able to use given he wasn’t well, so hex began using it growing many lovely plant and flower, when the Old man died, he started to stay in his garden a lot more - Hex cares for all his friends/ housemates but he has a rather protective bond with Whitty, after they met the robot just knew he needed help, and will always help him no matter what - Hex learned to sing from the old man, The robot was a bit unsure about singing given he wasn’t built for that, but the old man didn’t listen he wanted to show Hex how much fun music was, and that began the robots love for music  But after the man passed, Hex hasn’t dared to sing since - Hex was created to take care, so he knows how to treat all kinds of injuries and illnesses, he doesn’t get affected by seeing others in a bad state or get sick at the sight of blood, he just wants to help them - Hex can’t get sick from human illnesses (like colds or the flu) he’s a robot, but he can get overheated or if he gets a small bug in his system he can feel unwell till it’s fix, he may act like he is sick because of it. Bleh and thats all i got thought i would share anyways tell me what ya think
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omnivorousshipper · 3 years
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Request Friday: I think you’ve done similar stories but my mind was thinking arranged marriage + Pirate King Luke with a glorious beard. Maybe Mama Shaw wants to smuggle her goods via the pirate king’s fleet and to broker a relationship between them she offers her eldest?
I’ve just got the mental image of Luke dripping in gold and jewels, sitting fiercely on his throne cutting quite the figure when Deckard is escorted into the room to help sway negotiations and Luke is captivated—wants nothing more than to wrap him in silks and jewels, spoil him utterly rotten. Owen isn’t happy about their mum’s plans for Deck but is distracted by Pirate Captain Roman (I’m sure an absurd nickname)!cutting quite the figure.
Hattie decked out in swashbuckling gear, threatening idiots with her sword/daggers/gun when they try to hit on her. (A deadlier Elizabeth Swan)
I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS FRIEND!
I have such a weak spot for Luke beard, especially when it's salt and pepper. And omg, Deckard given up as a sacrifice is hilarious
And Hattie as Elizabeth Swan??? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP
~~~
Looking over several papers, Queenie Shaw narrowed her eyes at them. The numbers weren't adding up to what she had been hoping for
She would have to go with her backup plan
Sighing, she waved on of her servants out front the corner she had been quietly embroidering in. The woman lifted her skirts in a curtsey as she bowed
"Please bring my daughter to me." Queenie said in a clipped tone
"Right away, madam." The woman scurried out of the room, barely making any noise
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Queenie knew what she need to do, but it all relied on what she could convince of her children
Glancing out of the large windows, Queenie could hear the laughter of the servants' children. Looking at the clock, Queenie knew it was the normal time Deckard would sit them down for a lesson
She never really understood his want to teach them how to read. Even their parents didn't know
After a few minutes of listening to the soft murmur of voices outside in the gardens, the door to her office finally opened to reveal the servant gesturing Hattie inside
Queenie couldn't help the prideful smile that spread across her face as she took her daughter in
Hattie looked like a right pirate
"Something the matter, mum?" She asked, throwing herself into a seat and leaning back provocatively. Any other lady would have yelled at her scandalous behavior. Queenie simply raised an eyebrow
"I wanted your opinion on a matter." Queenie said slowly. "What are your thoughts on the pirate king?"
"Hobbs?"
"Yes."
"He's an alright bastard." Hattie said thoughtfully. "Looks after his people and keeps them in line when need be. He's cutthroat but fair. Why are you asking about him?"
"Because I want to strike up a deal with him."
"What kind of deal?" Hattie asked slowly, eyed narrowed in suspicion
"Trade has been going down recently. Too many imperial arseholes sticking their noses in my trade routes recently, causing them to dry up. I need new routes and the only ones I can find are through Hobbs' territory."
"Thats a lot of risk for him to take, he won't do that for cheap." Hattie looked over her mother carefully. "What are you planning on giving him? He'll need more than money."
"I know." Queenie nodded. Leaning back, she crossed her arms and fixed her daughter with a careful look
"What?"
"Hobbs is a widower, correct?"
"Yes? Mum, if you think I would ever-"
"Not you." Queenie cut her off quickly with a sharp gesture. "Deckard."
"Mum!" Hattie yelped. "You can't just sell him like some kind of mare!"
"I'm not!" Queenie hissed
"Then what are you doing?" Hattie snapped. "Because if you think Hobbs will let him leave, you're dead wrong! Pirates are selfish mum!"
"I'm assuming you know from experience?" Queenie drawled, purposely looking her daughter up and down
"Yes." Hattie met her eyes and glared. "Yoi are not shoving my brother into some arranged marriage."
Queenie met her gaze evenly
"And what if I told you that if we don't get those trade routes, all that I have built will crumb?"
"What?" Hattie blinked at her
Queenie didn't look happy to reveal what she said next
"We need to keep our illegal dealings going, but the empire and the king's men have started to notice. If they do, they'll come after our whole family. I can't let that happen, Hatts."
"But, Deck-"
"Can slit Hobbs' throat in a few years if it comes to that."
Hattie's face twisted in discomfort
"I don't want to send him into that, mum."
"I know dear." Queenie sighed. "And that's why I want you and Oh to escort Deckard there yourselves."
Hattie looked out the window, where Queenie had been looking out earlier
"Think we could convince Deck to wear his favorite dress to meet Hobbs?"
"Doubtful. He only wears them in our presence." Queenie chuckled, but felt her heart clench
Their family's business might thrive, but would her son?
---
Sitting on his throne, Luke played with a gold coin as he listened to the squabbles of lower ranked pirates. Head rested in his other hand, Luke couldn't wait for the pirate court to be called to a stop
Just another reason he wished Jonah had become the pirate king. Luke would rather he be the one sailing across the seas every day with his crew and daughter
But no, he was trapped helping other pirates deal with their own shit
Deciding to just take one pirate's side for no particular reason, Luke was interrupted by a party of three people walking into the hall
Luke peered at them closely
He only really recognized one of them
Hattie Shaw was one of the cruelest and efficient pirates Luke has seen in over a decade. She ran a tight ship and was fear by every sailor that came across her. Too bad she still held ties to her family, or else Luke would have asked her to join his fleet a long time ago
Standing next to her were two men. Neither really screamed pirate like Hattie did, instead they were in plain clothes. But it didn't hide the weapons on the taller man, who was practically hovering over the smaller man protective
But it was that smaller man Luke couldn't take his eyes off
He was absolutely gorgeous
The candlelight seemed to soften his harsh expression and enhanced how sharp his cheekbones were. He held himself with a sense of dignity, even when wearing a plain white shirt and black trousers
No. The man deserved to be covered in gold and jewels. He should be wrapped in the finest silk and laid on the softest sheets
Luke mentally went through the many pieces of stolen jewelry he had that he could drape over the man. He had a large diamond necklace, almost collar like, that would suit the man perfectly
Lost to his fantasies, Luke felt someone poke his shoulder. Looking up, Luke sheepishly met the harsh glare Letty was sending him
"What's your decree, King Luke?" She said through clenched teeth. Luke had a feeling she'd been trying to get his attention for a while
"You." Luke pointed at random between the two feuding pirates. "You were in the right. Whatever it is, you get it."
With a wave of his hand, Luke dismissed them and didn't care if he had been right or not
"You three!" Luke called out, staring at Hattie and the two men. "Come forward and speak your piece."
Luke could hear the irritated hiss Letty let out. Probably upset that he let people cut the line
Too bad, he was a pirate and would do what he wanted
With her chin held high, Hattie led the two men towards them. As they enter more of the candlelight, Luke couldn't keep his eyes off the smaller man
If it was possible, he looked even more attractive closer up
Luke already knew which golden bracelets would adorn the man's arms
"What brings you here, Shaw?" Luke asked curiously. "Usually you don't need anything from me."
"Not usually, no." Hattie said, her face serious. "But, my mother has a proposal for you."
"Go on."
"You allow her transport ships through your waters."
"And for me?"
"My brother's hand in marriage."
Luke sat up eagerly
And felt like the luckiest man on earth when the smaller man pushed past the other man and closer to Luke
He held his head up as he met Luke's eyes in a challenge
Luke smiled, showing all of his teeth
"I accept."
---
The words seemed to ring out in the large hall
And echoed inside of Deckard's head, making his ears ring
What?
With wide eyes, Deckard stared up at the pirate king who simply leaned back into his throne
He didn't want to admit it, but the image had Deckard salivating
Luke Hobbs was a large man with muscles bigger than Deckard's head, and they shown beautifully in the candlelight, along with the gold that hung off his body
His powerful arms were free of cloth and had gold arm bands with blue rocks embedded in them. Deckard couldn't help but stare at the sight
"You may wait in my chambers while I discuss the details with your sister." Hobbs told him, breaking Deckard out of his staring
Blinking, Deckard wanted to glare at the man for dismissing him so easily, but he held his tongue
Especially when he saw the heated look the king was sending him
Deckard felt himself blush heavily. It was as if the man was undressing him simply by staring at him
A woman broke away from the crowd watching the proceedings
"I'll take him there, Luke." She said, bowing her head slightly
"Thank you, Ramsey."
Looking over at the woman, Deckard found himself relaxing slightly at her smile
Maybe being married off to a pirate wouldn't be the worst thing in the world
---
Owen frowned as he watched Deckard be escorted away from them. He wanted to follow after them, but the firm grip Hattie had on his arm told him not to
Grinding his teeth, Owen stayed put as Hattie dragged them towards a corner of the hall
Hobbs would discuss their contract further once he was done with the court
"I don't like this. It shouldn't be this easy." Owen hissed
"Maybe it can be." Hattie whispered back. "Now quiet."
Leaning against the wall, Owen watched the court carefully to gain any information
And soon found his attention on one pirate specifically
And can you really blame him, when the pirate's name was Roman 'Barnacle Whisperer' Pearce?
That was a story Owen wanted to get his hands on. And maybe the man himself
---
Stepping into a huge, lavish room, Deckard swallowed thickly. Was this really where Hobbs slept? Even Deckard's rooms at home weren't this big!
He heard the door close as Ramsey left him alone to admire everything. Sitting on a lavish couch, Deckard took a deep breath
No doubt in a few days Deckard would be married to the man who owned all this
It was a little overwhelming
Lost in thought, Deckard jumped when he heard the door open again. And revealed a small girl
Deckard met her curious gaze
"Who are you?" She asked
"Deckard."
"Are you a friend of my dad?"
"Kind of." Deckard coughed. He could only assume she meant Hobbs
"What're you doing here?"
"Waiting for him."
"Want to wait together?"
"I'd love the company." Deckard smile and was pleased to see the girl smile back. "And what's your name?"
"Sam." She skipped over to him and looked him over. "You look really plain."
Deckard blinked at her. And looked over the jewels and gold she was wearing. Definitely Hobbs' daughter
"Dad wouldn't mind if you wore a few things of his." Sam smiled at him and grabbed his hand. "Come on."
Frowning, Deckard let Sam pull him further into the rooms
---
Entering his chambers, Luke let out a sigh
He hated haggling deals. Especially when it came to two overly protective siblings. At least Owen Shaw had been distracted by Roman
Looking around the front room, Luke frowned. Where was the third Shaw, Deckard?
For a moment, Luke was scared Ramsey had taken him for herself. But as he listened closely, he could hear laughter from his bedroom
Quietly walking towards the room, Luke could hear Sam's voice
"You look so pretty!"
"Thank you, as do you." A man's voice responded
Luke could clearly hear the joy in both of their voices. Poking his head into the room, Luke felt his heart skip a beat
Sam was kneeling on a chair as she rummaged through his chest of jewels, while Deckard Shaw stood next to her and allowed her to dress him any jewelry she didn't wear herself
Luke's eyes immediately zeroed in on the diamond collar around Deckard's neck
Looked like Sam had had the same idea
Deckard Shaw would be theirs
Leaning against the doorway, Luke stayed quiet as he watched his future husband and daughter
~~~
I hope you enjoyed friend!!
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luckgods · 3 years
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Opus 10, part 2: Dexter, Sinister
Prompt: “Paralyzed by fear” for Bad Things Happen Bingo Warnings: torture, mostly non-graphic violence, past minor character death, panic attacks, dissociation, some ableism against a sometimes-nonverbal character Word count: 2.1k Summary: Luce finds themself captured by a stranger with a grudge.
So. This is... bad. Fuck.
Luce generally tried to be a realist. But some situations called for preparation for the worst.
Case in point: being tied to a chair and having a knife brandished at you by some evil... oh, that chestplate, she was a Storm-Hunter. Whoops.
Maybe keeping the stolen cloak hadn't been the best idea. (Well, was it really stealing when they were already dead? And the Storm-Hunters had threatened and then nearly killed Vesca, which technically made them the aggressors, so Luce felt pretty justified.) And it was enchanted! Cloaks like that didn't just fall out of the sky every day.
Well, that was fine. Luce could deal. Even if this lady couldn't. Find out what she wants, give it to her, get out. Or distract her until Ari notices I'm gone. Easy as pie.
Which was a funny phrase, because Luce had seen Uncle Keren's pie recipe, and it did not look simple at all. Focus.
Appease, distract, mitigate. It was just another performance: find out what they wanted, give it to them, get out before they realize you'd emptied their pockets.
Showtime.
"Why... what do you want with me?" Luce aimed for halfway between confused and frightened.
"Where did you get that cloak?" the woman asked.
Ah. Easy. "Stole it out of some rich idiot's hotel room in Voiraux. You'd think they'd get better security with all their money, right?" They forced a laugh.
Really, Storm-Hunter or no, it was embarrassing that this woman had gotten the drop on Luce. Luce was supposed to notice if the people around them were dangerous. Can’t protect anyone without the basic ability to identify threats.
"I think you're lying," the woman said.
Luce widened their eyes slightly, and then pressed their lips together. "I'm not, I promise, I— do you want it? You can have it! I didn't realize anyone would— well, obviously I stole it, but rich people don't usually even notice if something goes missing, that's why—"
"Shut up!"
Luce snapped their mouth shut.
"I don't want the cloak, I want to know which member of your little cadre killed my brother in Atropos!"
Oh. Double fuck.
"Well. Um."
Luce squinted at the woman's face. She didn't look familiar.
New plan: distract. Her brother... possibly the boss. Fucker deserved what he got. Possibly some goon. Also deserved what they got. Worth guessing? Can't hurt.
"He was the... leader?"
"Yes," the woman hissed, "and he was going to make us rich. And renowned. And you fucked it all up."
Keep her talking.
"In our defense, he did trick and then nearly murder our friend. He tell you about that? I mean, not the murder part, on account of... yeah, but the seduction. It was a whole thing."
The woman turned her back on Luce, and exited the room. She re-entered holding a cocked crossbow.
"You know, carrying loaded weapons is—hnnf—"
"You don't get to speak about him."
Crossbow bolt to the stomach. That's a new one.
Luce tilted their head back, glancing at the ceiling. They couldn't hide the grimace on their face, but they could give themself the dignity of some false privacy while they schooled their face back into some semblance of calm.
"Could have just... told me."
"You're lucky I need you to tell me how to get to your friends, or that bolt would have gone into your chest. Or maybe not so lucky."
Luce affected a wide, strained smile. "Any day I'm living... is better than one I'm not."
"Let's test that, shall we?" the woman asked. She turned away again. Probably to grab more weapons.
Well, if that's how she wants to play it. "You could always... ask... your brother."
The woman screamed in rage and whirled on Luce, planting a heel in their stomach, knocking the chair onto its back. Pain exploded up into their chest, down their spine, burst across their skull where it collided with the ground. Their lungs were paralyzed, burning but unable to draw in air.
Okay. New plan. Fuck. Fucking ow. Avoid dying until Ari notices I'm gone. Piece of fucking cake. Then avoid dying when Isaure has to fix me. No, unrealistic. Avoid dying until Isaure can kill me herself. It's the least she deserves.
Anything to distract from the pain.
Luce didn't realize they'd shut their eyes until their head spun as the chair was hefted back upright. The woman was back. They'd missed her footsteps. Lot of use you are. Focus.
They grunted as the change in position jolted the crossbow bolt, still embedded in the back of the chair—and their torso. Couldn't help but wince, wincing made it hurt worse. Tears welled up in their eyes.
"Weak, aren't you?"
Like to see you get shot and tossed around and shed nary a tear, Luce thought, but their voice was no longer working. Fine. "Fuck you," they whispered.
"What was that?" You fucking heard me. The woman laughed. "Not so tough at all. Tell me where your friends are or I'll figure out a way to make you scream."
Luce glared up at her. If their hands had been free, they'd have had a lot to say to her, not that she'd understand any of it. "Not fucking scared of you," they whispered instead. "Figure out a fucking way."
The woman's brow furrowed. Take that. "Is that a challenge? No matter. You'll tell me, or you'll die in misery and I'll just have to hunt your friends down myself."
She hefted a metal rod—fire poker, should have noticed, oh fuck—and swung it down on Luce's forearm. Luce heaved out a voiceless gasp. Oh, Lady. This is only going to get worse.
More blows. Arms, legs. A couple to the chest, not too many, probably doesn't want to break a rib and risk collapsing a lung, so considerate. More questions. The stomach was the worst. Like being shot anew every time the poker made contact. Gonna be puking blood when this is over. Luce didn't answer. Didn't scream. Would have struggled to produce a full-throated sound, even if they'd wanted to. Broken speech is good for something. Bet she's mad.
Eventually, the beating stopped. Luce could hardly tell through the tears blurring their sight, but they'd bet good money that the woman's face was contorted in fury.
Their theory was confirmed when she growled, "Why won't you break!"
Luce offered up a shaky grin in response. Squeezing their eyes shut to concentrate, they whispered, "Untie... hands... I'll tell you."
The woman only snarled in response. Worth a try.
Luce kept their eyes closed, tracking her retreat with their ears instead. Leaving. Regrouping. Good. Time. Speed up, Maré. Need you.
They half-drifted, breathing in time with the pulsing in their stomach. Ari, Maré, Maré, find me. Don't tell Darnell, he doesn't need to see. Secret, safe, secret, keep it. Time. Give it time. Find me.
The woman returned. Her steps were slow and heavy.
"What," Luce murmured, head lolling to the side, eyes blinking open lazily. Weapon? Knife. Hunting. I'm the prey. Threat established, they closed their eyes again. It wasn't much, but the darkness was a slight balm to their headache.
"Everyone fears something," the woman said. "You don't fear pain, I'll give you that. But you fear something. Death, I can tell. You don't want to die." She paused for a long moment. "Fire, probably."
Luce couldn't restrain the slight laugh that escaped them. Fire. Nothing would be as terrible as the all-engulfing flame that had scarred them in the first place. No, they didn't fear fire.
"Not fire," the woman concluded. Whoops. Ah well, she deserves one for free.
"You're a peacock. If you weren't already disfigured, maybe a threat to your pretty face would get you to talk."
"Rude," Luce whispered. "Still pretty."
"Still, there's more than one way to skin a kobold. You still wear makeup. Hands?"
Luce did not freeze. Their breath did not hitch. They forced their lips to curl into a smile. "So sweet... you noticed."
She doesn't know. Don't let her know. She doesn't know, she can't know, don't let her know, hide, hide, hide-hide-hide.
The silence dragged on and on. Luce put all their concentration into looking as unconcerned as possible. They regretted closing their eyes. Wished they could see the woman's face, couldn't risk looking and letting her know they cared. Couldn't move, for fear. Rabbit in the open. Pretend it's on purpose, but could you move if you wanted to?
Head hanging. Eyes closed. Playing dead. Being dead. The dead don't feel fear. Remember, the best way to sell a trick is to believe it yourself. Nobody likes a jaded magician. But don't over-sell. Watch my hands. How does it feel to see something impossible? Good, use that. That's what you're selling.
"Ears," the woman finally continued. "I see you tracking me. Neat trick, with your eyes closed. And of course your smart mouth."
Smart mouth, Luce echoed soundlessly. The last of their voice was gone. They opened their eyes.
The woman was twirling her knife. The front of Luce's shirt was wet with blood, cooling and crusting over. Probably the back as well. Their stomach burned. Their limbs throbbed in time with their pulse, too fast. I just want this to be over.
Focus on the pain. Like that hit to your stomach. Hurts, right? That's why you can't go down. Stay up, keep fighting. Doesn't matter how much it hurts. You go down, you're out, kid. Fight's over. In the ring, it don't matter, but in real life, you die. Got that?
"Hands first, I think. Then your tongue, then your ears. We'll see if I can't make you scream before then. I doubt it, given your apparent... defects, but we can try nonetheless."
No, no, no, no. Anything else. Can't perform without my hands, can't fight, can't talk. Be useless. Change her mind. Anything else.
Lower your eyes, Luce, don't look so invested. Watch your breathing. Not too fast, but not too slow, either. Smile. Look confident. Remember, you have something that they want. Confident, not cocky, Luce. They have something you want, too. Make them feel good about giving it to you.
"Knife or club, do you think? Is it worse to have fingers broken beyond repair, or no fingers at all?"
Frozen. Neither. Anything else. No more magic. No more fighting. No more sign language. Trapped, voiceless, again, forever.
Use your words, Luce. Negotiate with me.
...I'm sorry, Mom. I can't.
Then there was shouting and flames, almost pleasantly warm, dancing at the walls, when did it get so cold? Shouting, orange and purple bolts of magic flying past, a familiar dry voice saying "buckle up, bud, this is gonna suck."
Luce exhaled through gritted teeth as someone yanked at the crossbow bolt. Hands on their shoulders, hands on their stomach, a hand holding their own, pressing reassurances into it, words like safe and home and free.
Voices were passing over their head, the words lost in the buzz of adrenaline, a wave of exhaustion crashing over them in the aftermath of fear fear fear. Where was Ari? There. Warm and soft and safe, crooning soft reassurances to Luce's low humming. I was afraid. I wasn't good enough. I waited. You found me. Be careful, she's looking for you, the Storm-Hunter. They tried to stand up but their knees buckled underneath them, a web of hands and arms catching them mid-fall, settling them gently onto the floor.
"The woman, she's a Storm-Hunter, she wants revenge," Luce signed.
"She's been taken care of," said Isaure, in her typical understated fashion. "And you're next."
She sounded like she wanted to say more. Luce raised their eyebrows at her. Isaure shook her head in response. She looked tired.
Bad, then.
"Ari," Luce whispered, and there she was, on their right, Darnell on their left, Tesla twining around the three of them. "Am I okay?" Don't lie.
"You're going to be," she promised.
Luce hummed in agreement. "Got me... just in time," they said. I was so afraid, they didn't say. "'M cold," they said.
Ari turned to look at Isaure. Luce's head swam. Tesla chirped his sound of distress. Why? Maybe because of the water. Yes, the water. It was cold, which was why Luce was cold. It distorted and clouded the shapes around them and muffled the sounds. But it was nice in the water. It didn't hurt so much. Luce slipped under the surface and let the currents tug them away.
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