#I adore the idea of the mellark family
Text
i know some ppl can see katniss as the strict parent, but it has never came into my mind. have you seen how easy she can be w prim? have you seen peeta in cf? strict personal trainer extraordinaire ??!! katniss would look right into her kid’s face- connect something w peeta like her daughters blue eyes or her sons face and would go ‘okay-just don’t tell your father this- please. i don’t want you in trouble my little ducks’ ! allowing them to get away w it. not to say peeta wouldn’t be a fantastic parent- he would just be the more strict on w rule and routine
#post mockingjay#everlark#hungergames#peeta mellark#katniss and peeta#katniss x peeta#peeta x katniss#katniss woudl so call her children her little ducks#katniss everdeen#I adore the idea of the mellark family#peeta if it wasn’t for the baby mellark#peeniss
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
drabble prompt: “listen, i love you, but really?”
hi anon! thanks so much for the prompt! You gave me so many ideas with this one. I think I got a little carried away- but I hope it fulfills what you’re looking for!
Buckle up for some post mockingjay married Everlark goodness
Oh, and happy late halloween ;)
Katniss POV
It is late October in a peaceful District 12, as I make my way home from the woods to Peeta and I’s house. Though I’ve always loved the warmth of spring, I have grown fond of autumn. The air is crisp and smells fresh, the leaves are changing, and though the air is not warm- the people seem warmer.
Peeta adores autumn. He’s always loved the cooler air, and he is always trying out new recipes. He usually bakes with cinnamon, since it’s one of his family’s go-to spices, but I’m beginning to think he bathes in cinnamon now. And then drizzles it all over our house.
Though my husband is supposed to be running the bakery, I hear the clanging of pots and pans and off-tune humming from the kitchen as I approach our front door. After knocking the dirt from my boots and removing them, I step inside.
Instead of seeing Peeta, I see pumpkins. Hordes of them. They are in our entry way, in the living room, and they cover the dining room table.
What is he up to?
“Uh...Peeta?”
“Oh! You’re back! I’m in the kitchen, love.”
I meander my way through the pumpkin maze Peeta seems to have built, and see him at the far kitchen counter. His back is to me, and he is cutting through the top of yet another pumpkin with a very large knife.
“Okay, I think I’m missing something, Mellark.”
Peeta puts down the knife, wipes his hands on his apron, and faces me with a lopsided grin.
“So I may have gotten carried away. Not only me- Effie too.”
“Of course Effie had a hand in this.” I grumble. I adore our former escort, but I do not enjoy her habits of excess.
“Just listen to the whole story, it will make sense.”
I lean against the counter with my arms crossed to listen.
“So, you know all of those books Effie sends me?” I nod. “Well, there were a few books about the Old World, you know, before Panem. Turns out, they had a holiday called Halloween. I’m not totally sure what the point was, the book didn’t really explain, but anyway- It’s kind of like Harvest Festival. A celebration of fall. Except there are a lot of sweets. And everyone dresses up in costumes.”
“Like Capitol people?” I interject.
“Mm-not really. Mostly characters from books and television. And kids go door to door in their District and get treats from their neighbors! They all share-“
“Where do the pumpkins come in, Peeta?”
“Oh yeah! They decorate their houses and they used pumpkins to do it sometimes! They would carve faces in the fruit and then put a light in them, they were called jack-o-lanterns. So I got inspired. I realized that we didn’t really have a Harvest Festival anymore, and I just wanted to spread some joy to people. Haymitch might even help me plan the festival, but first I wanted to deliver a jack-o-lantern to everyone.”
Typical Peeta. Giving people hope. Spreading warmth to the people in our District.
“So I’m guessing you told this to Effie and-“
“Yeah, she sent a few more than I needed. But that just means everyone gets more than one.”
He picks at the curls at the nape of his neck nervously, waiting for my response.
“Peeta Mellark, listen, I love you, but really?”
“We have the money and the time. Why not use it for something fun? If anyone deserves a little frivolous fun, it’s 12.”
I groan and rub my face with both hands. He has a point. He always does.
“I know, I’m a little crazy aren’t I?”
I cross the kitchen with a shy smile on my face. I lean against him and rest both hands on his chest, and his arms encircle me as I stare up at him.
“You are a little crazy. But hey, I married you anyway didn’t I?”
He chuckles and pecks my lips. “Thank God you did, or else who would help me with all of these pumpkins?”
“Oh no, I married you for the bread, not the carving.”
“I was already planning to make every pumpkin treat you could imagine. My wife doesn’t like waste, you know. I’m not throwing out anything.” I raise my eyebrows.
“Every treat I could imagine, hm?”
“You name it, I’ll make it. Pumpkin bread, pumpkin cupcakes, roasted seeds, pumpkin pie, pumpkin cookies- I bet i could make pumpkin jam even.”
“Pumpkin jam? Now you’ve gone too far.” I start to pull out of his embrace, but he holds me tightly against his chest, vibrating with laughter.
“Okay, okay, no jam, just please help me. You’re good with a knife.”
“First treats and now compliments to butter me up? I see how it is, Mellark.”
“I have a lot of methods for getting you to give in. You’ve gotten softer over the years, Katniss.” He lightly tickles my sides, and I struggle to swat him away.
When the tickling stops. I roll my eyes. Now he has resorted to the “puppy eyes” method- which just means he pouts out his lip in a certain way, and stares down at me with the softest baby blues he can muster. It’s so adorable it makes me want to squeeze him. And kiss that pouty lip. And strangle him.
“Fine. But you owe me. And you have to carve the face, mine aren’t going to look right, I’m sure of it.”
“You’ll get every pumpkin treat that exists- I promise. Maybe even some other favors if you’re lucky.”
#prompt fill#answered#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#everlark#thg#katniss and peeta#everlark fanfiction#post mj
58 notes
·
View notes
Note
ann i did not read ANY of the questions for the interesting asks so i don’t know what i’m asking for but 5, 10, and 15 please?
Aaa hi Sarah and nw I do that all the time!! Thank you for the ask! <33
5. If you could marry a fictional character, who would it be?
PEETA MELLARK. Hands down. No hesitation. I adore him omg. He was my first fictional husband 🥺
10. If you could sit one person down and ask them an unlimited amount of questions, talk-show-style, who would it be? What would you ask?
The first person that came to mind was a specific family member lol. I'd just ask questions to situations I'm suspicious about.
What is your MBTI type/enneagram number?
LMAO I HAVE NO IDEA skjdjd if anybody wants to assign me one and explain why my ask box is open lol.
Interesting asks
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
WEDDING PHOTOS, PART 1/3: HIS PARENTS
yes, that’s new mini series, but really short one. can’t stop myself when some idea strikes me. also I will share some of my headcanons about Mellarks & Everdeens. today is the Mellarks day ❤️ (I love them so much, I just can’t even describe).
Some headcanons:
About the wedding: Maybe you already saw my comic about this two [here it is + sweet story by @frick6101719 based on it, thank you so much again!). So you know that their wedding was ridiculously unexpected (even for themselves). One day (night actually!) they agreed to marry and the next day they toasted and applied for marriage license (I think bureaucracy took some time, maybe a couple of weeks before they officially married). Toasting was very private (just them and some burnt bread), warm and intimate, full of hopes and excitement. Nobody knew about their plans and they entertained the idea of surprising everyone. That was one of the happiest days for them and Mr. Mellark, being rather sentimental by his nature, loved to share memories of this day with his sons (guess#1 which son was listening very carefully and made notes about secret toasting). The official wedding day however was not that bright, because practically everyone (families, friends, even fellow classmates) thought that this marriage was a mistake. Some friends said Mr.Mellark that he just needed to calm down and that it’s just a revenge for apothecary daughter’s betrayal and that he would regret everything, so they didn’t want to participate in this spectacle and didn’t attend the wedding. He was very upset about it because he actually was pretty crazy about his smart and beautiful wife and felt sure about future happiness. Polite but not very sincere congratulations by their families, awkward astonishment or blatant rejection by their friends, humorous confidence that this marriage won’t last long by everyone else made Mr. and Mrs. Mellark cling even closer to each other. They were wounded and a little angry to the world, they seek for love and comfort and were absolutely absorbed by each other. After some time (seeing Mrs. Mellark at the bakery every day) people started understand that this marriage was not a joke and accepted it. Mr. Mellark was happy to have friends again and forgot everything rather quickly. BUT. But Mrs. Mellark forgot and forgive NOTHING. Like Katniss she is not a forgiving type actually. She was (and is) absolutely indifferent to other people opinions but she was furious about their rejection of her husband - sweet, friendly, open-minded and kind - who was firstly rejected by his fiancée and secondly by all district. That was one of MANY reasons why Mrs. Mellark was never very, you know, sweet with people. She never trusted them again, never forgive them and never let them hurt her family (by never get them too close to hurt). Don’t mess with Mrs. Mellark, guys.
About the photo: Mrs. Mellark had two weeks to prepare everything for wedding. She had some money saved (because she knows how to deal with money, she is very good with it) and bought some lace to upgrade her old white dress (she didn’t want to rent the dress, she wanted it be only hers). So the dress was all her usual style with puffy sleeves and flying skirt (+ lace layer). She also bought a string of beads and did the hair up with it. If the wedding was planned and she had more time to collect money, her wedding gown would be a lot more beautiful and stylish and she would have a veil but she never actually regretted anything. She was beautiful, he was beautiful (light blue dress shirt + grey suit with vest), they were absolutely happy with each other those days. The framed photo stood on the dresser in their bedroom. There always also stood fresh flowers in the vase (traded to some bread with flower shop keeper by Mr. Mellark). Guess#2 who adored all this flowers and used to draw them in his sketchbook and then on many and many cookies.
#sorry for my english#the hunger games#thg fanart#lynx hunger games#mr and mrs mellark#mr mellark#mrs mellark#mellarks#thg headcanon#lynx wedding photos#lynx second quarter quell generation
244 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm so broody atm and I know you'll happily oblige on the toast baby front! so I just wanna talk about all the cute lil first moments they get to have with her that aren't milestones, just small things that are just exciting to first time parents. Getting to dress her for the first time, or take her outdoors for the first time. I bet they're the kind of parents that narrate everything as they're doing it too. Peeta because it's natural for him and Katniss cos she finds it soothing
🥺🥺🥺
ooooh this is so sweet to think about!
all of the little things that feel so big to them, like giving their baby daughter her first bath in the kitchen sink and spending their first night as a family. taking her into town for some groceries and buying her her first pair of shoes because they’re too adorable not to.
and the idea of them narrating to their kids is so 🥺 i can totally see peeta just talking to his little ones all the time, even when they have no idea what he’s saying. “And now we’re putting on your coat, little miss mellark, because mama will kill me if i take you out without it!” while he gets his daughter dressed and she’s just all blue eyes and big smiles for her silly papa. and i can see it being something that katniss picks up on, especially when she’s alone with her children. taking them out to the woods and quietly pointing out all of the different flowers and plants to them, comforting them with soft words when they start to fuss. it’s just too adorable 🥲
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Amazing and Corny
Author: @hutchhitched
Prompt: Corn Maze [submitted by @sunsetsrmydreams]
Rating: T
Summary: Stressed over classes, Katniss gives in when her friend Gale insists she join their group of friends at a corn maze. Somehow, she finds herself lost with Peeta, the golden boy she’s admired from afar since their freshman year of college. As a thunderstorm rumbles overhead, they find their way out of the maze and discover each other, too.
Author’s Note: Thanks to @mandelion82 for the extra set of eyes.
____________
Katniss Everdeen looked around her, wondering how in the hell she’d been dragged along on what her best friend Gale Hawthorne insisted was an adventure. As far as she was concerned, this qualified as a misadventure more than anything else. She didn’t have time for this, anyway. Only six weeks left in the semester, and she was at a damn corn maze an hour from the middle of nowhere.
“I don’t know how I let you talk me into something so stupid,” she grumbled, but Gale just knocked his shoulder against hers and laughed.
“Oh, come on, Catnip,” he chided. “It’ll be fun. Besides, I hear a certain someone might make an appearance, and I know how tantalizing that can be for the young co-eds such as yourself.”
“Shut up,” she snapped and immediately blushed the same shade as the sugar maple across the road. Ducking her head to hide the distinctly scarlet hue her cheeks had flamed, she crossed her arms over her chest and shrunk in on herself. Besides, who talked like that? Apparently Gale when he was messing with her.
Peeta Mellark. That’s who Gale meant, and her stomach fluttered at the possibility he might attend the evening’s event. Peeta was friends with Delly Cartwright who knew Annie Cresta who dated Finnick Odair who was friends with Johanna Mason who her traitorous best friend happened to be dating. It was not her favorite relationship of his.
“Relax. He might not come. Anyway, it’s not like you’d talk to him if he was here. You haven’t managed to yet the entire time we’ve been on campus together.”
Katniss hung her head because Gale was right. Peeta seemed to be friends with everyone at Panem State, the mid-level public university in the Midwest she and her friends attended. Everyone, that was, but her. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried. She’d run into him multiple times over the past two and a half years, but every time she clammed up, unable to speak and overwhelmed by his warmth. As far as she was concerned, Peeta Mellark was amazing. She adored his affable nature and the corny jokes he told. Her family always called them groaners, but he’d often joked he was practicing for when he became a dad. Peeta shone like the sun, and she paled in comparison.
And that made her feel even worse. Peeta had dad jokes, and Katniss quaked at the thought of future children. She wasn’t even 21 yet, and she didn’t understand the tendency of those around her who had baby fever. At least that was one thing Gale’s girlfriend had going for her. Johanna Mason didn’t seem to have a maternal bone in her body.
“But what if he does?” she mumbled and scuffed the toe of her shoe in the dust.
“Peeta?” At her nod, he sighed. “If he shows up, you might want to actually speak to him. At this point, it’s obvious you’re uncomfortable around him. He’s even asked the group if he did something to offend you.”
“He is offensive,” Katniss groused. “He’s too bright and shiny. Too nice. Too charming. I mean, give the rest of us a break. We can’t live up to his golden boy perfection.”
Gale rolled his eyes and looked over her shoulder. “Hey, Jo,” he called. “Delly, Peeta, Finn, Annie. Good to see you.”
Katniss’ stomach dropped to her feet. There was no way he hadn’t heard her. No possibility that Peeta Mellark hadn’t witnessed her confession that she thought his perfection was rivaled by none. How in the world could she play this off? She needed a place to hide. She was just about to bolt when Gale grabbed her forearm and tugged her against his side.
“Stay put,” he growled under his breath. “You avoiding him is ridiculous.”
Katniss elbowed him in the ribs, but he only acknowledged it with a barely audible grunt. Instead, he turned to his girlfriend and kissed her, which devolved into a filthy, open-mouthed, possibly pornographic grope fest that only ended because Finnick wolf whistled.
“Get a room! We’re here for the corn maze, not a tryst with a corn cob.”
“I don’t know. I think the corn might be jealous of Hawthorne’s cob,” Johanna retorted and turned her lascivious grin on Gale. “Later, lover,” she promised.
“Gross,” Katniss mumbled, and Peeta snorted. He hid his mouth and covered the chuckle with a cough, but his eyes sparkled mischievously when he glanced her way.
“Let’s go,” Finnick said, enthusiasm practically vibrating out of him as he led the way to the corn maze entrance. He purchased tickets for their group of seven and then tugged Annie into the maze. Katniss trudged along at the back of the group.
It didn’t take long for them to spread out, the couples drifting away from Katniss, Delly, and Peeta as the duos held hands and snuggled together. Delly and Peeta chatted companionably, while Katniss glowered and tried not to feel like a third wheel. Peeta attempted to engage her a few times, but she brushed off his efforts and stopped paying attention until they were fairly deep into the maze.
“Uh, Delly, do you have any idea where we are?” Peeta asked, shocking Katniss out of her stupor.
The night had cooled, humidity and the threat of rain making the air seem colder than it should. Katniss glanced upward and blanched at roiling clouds and lazy lightning sparking in the atmosphere. She shivered involuntarily and shifted closer to the other two.
“Not a clue,” Delly answered cheerfully. “Let’s try this way.” With that, she was off, leaving Peeta and Katniss in her wake. They stood together in semi-stunned silence before Peeta turned to her with a sheepish expression.
“Well, alone at last,” he said in an attempted joke that fell flat.
“We need better friends,” Katniss sighed. “The whole lot of them are terrible people.”
Amused, Peeta returned, “I feel like that says something about us, that we’d both choose crappy friends and allow them to, first, talk us into a corn maze on the night of a predicted thunderstorm during a really busy time in the semester and, second, abandon us like this. It feels like a plot to a bad horror film or something.”
“Horror or Hallmark?”
Peeta ran a hand down the back of his neck nervously and cocked his head. “What do you mean by Hallmark?”
“Oh, you know. Those corny movies where a woman goes back to her hometown and reconnects with some hot guy who convinces her the country is more wholesome than the city and she forgets all about her job and friends and the life she’s built for herself,” Katniss explained. “They always make me so mad. Like the female lead isn’t smart enough to have made decisions for herself, and she has to be saved by the noble, hot stranger who’s got it all figured out. It’s mansplaining at its finest.”
“What if the guy’s right?”
“Why? Because he’s hot and feels an inordinate desire to protect a woman who doesn’t need his help? If anyone ever tried that with me…” Katniss trailed into silence, unsure what the rest of her threat actually was. It wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate help; she just wanted help from someone who understood she could do it by herself, even if that wasn’t necessary.
Peeta studied her carefully, his expression unreadable, and she wondered if she’d offended him, somehow. He licked his lips and tugged the collar of his jacket up under his ears before speaking.
“Well, that explains some things.”
She bristled immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean,” he sighed, clearly dejected, “it makes more sense why you haven’t given me the time of day the past two years.”
Katniss gaped at him, completely taken aback at this statement. It took her a second to form a coherent thought, but she finally managed to stammer, “Wh-what?”
Peeta’s mouth twisted into an expression of misery. “You seem to hate me, and I have no idea why.”
Flustered, she blurted, “How does that have anything to do with hot guys from small towns? I— You’re— Yeah, hot. You really are, but… I’m so lost.”
Peeta flushed, his cheeks flaming red, and he stubbed his toe into the ground and refused to look at her. “It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Brought—?” Katniss stopped herself and held up her hands in surrender. Gently, she prodded, “Peeta? What are you saying?”
He shook his head and hunched his shoulders, shielding against the chilly weather and his disappointment. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be that guy,” he whispered.
“What guy?” she asked, using every ounce of her strength to quell her frustration.
He lifted tortured eyes and answered softly, “The guy that seems to think he’s entitled to a girl’s attention. The one that mansplains. The one who takes over the room when he walks in. I’ve never intended to do that, but you’ve always shied away from the popular crowd. You have every right to ignore me if you want. I didn’t mean to imply that you owe anything to me.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, that makes way more sense than… Well, than anything I was thinking.”
Curious, he asked tentatively, “What were you thinking?”
“I was trying to figure out how you were the hot, small-town guy luring me away from the city,” she laughed, and he grinned a little.
“Well, you did say I was hot.”
“You are hot,” she sputtered. Peeta coughed to cover a pleased smirk. His response was so soft, she almost missed it.
“Thank you.”
“I wouldn’t ever try to insinuate you weren’t smart enough to make your own decisions.”
The tips of his ears burned red, which she thought was about the cutest thing she’d ever seen. She opened her mouth to speak when her phone interrupted them. Grimacing, she tugged it from her pocket and glanced at the screen.
“Oh, hell,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Gale,” she offered in explanation. “He wants to know where we are.”
“We’re in the corn maze. Where else would we be? Is everybody else done or something?”
She nodded to affirm. “They’re all waiting at the picnic tables. Even Delly’s there. They have cider.”
They glanced around them and realized they still had no idea where they were. Katniss hadn’t been paying attention as they wound into the maze, and Peeta had clearly followed Delly’s direction. In short, they were lost. Katniss glanced upward, as a few fat drops of rain spattered around them.
“Would it be corny to say I’d rather be lost in here with you than anyone else?” Peeta asked, his lips quirked into a crooked grin.
“Oh, I don’t know. There’s a crop of freshmen on campus. Wouldn’t you rather be with one of them?”
Peeta’s eyes twinkled. “Punny.”
“Same to you.”
“You’re amazing,” he laughed, and they grinned at each other, content to joke about their predicament. Seconds later, the sky opened, lightning flashed, and they both jumped. “We need to get out of here.”
Katniss extended her hand to him. “Together?”
“Together,” he agreed as he took her hand.
They walked quickly then, alternating right turns with lefts until they began to see a pattern. Corn stalks guided their way as they wound through the maze, hopeful they were on the right track, as rain poured from the heavens. Soaking wet, they clung to each other, a lifeline in their confusion. They hadn’t seen anyone else for several minutes, and Katniss started to shake—from cold, anxiety, and frustration.
“It’s going to be okay,” Peeta assured her. Letting go of her hand, he shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. When she protested, he insisted. “I’m all right.”
“I thought you trusted me to make my own decisions,” she retorted, but her clacking teeth and shivers undermined her argument.
He wrapped his arm around her and guided them down another corridor. “I do. I promise, but your sense of direction is as terrible as mine. Let’s get out of here, and then you can go back to resisting my advances.”
“Have you been making advances?” she asked, curious.
“Since the moment I saw you across the room. You have no idea the effect you have on me.”
She’d have to ponder that once they’d escape the maze. She was too cold, too disoriented, and too woozy from the heat of his jacket and arm curled around her. The stress of the semester had been weighing on her more than she’d thought, and there was something really compelling about allowing someone else to take charge.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” Peeta sputtered as they rounded another corner and spied the flags marking the maze exits. His curls were plastered to his head in dark blonde waves, and he looked absolutely miserable in his soaking wet navy blue Henley and dark washed jeans.
“Wait,” she pleaded. “Wait.”
Peeta stopped immediately and turned questioning eyes to meet hers. His willingness to take her seriously without question made her smile. “What’s up?” he asked, rubbing her arms to warm her.
Katniss reached for him, grabbing his sopping shirt and tugging him to her. Their lips met as thunder rumbled above them, and she leaned into his heat. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her to him and increasing the pressure of his mouth on hers. They stood there, tangled together, until an echoing boom of thunder shook them apart.
“Electrifying,” he murmured as lightning flashed.
Katniss giggled and burrowed into his chest. “Such a dad joke.”
“They’re coming out my ears.”
“No. Stop. That was terrible.”
“I can’t help it. They just pop up when I least expect them.”
“So corny,” she grinned.
“So amazing,” he corrected and grabbed her hand. “Let’s get out of her, ditch our friends, and get to know each other.”
Katniss nodded. At the moment, there was nothing she wanted more.
93 notes
·
View notes
Text
Happy Birthday, kelskels95!
Happy Birthday, @kelskels95! We hope you’ve got a wonderful day planned, with a delicious cake to look forward to at the end! To start your party off right, the lovely @endlessnightlock has written a story just for you!
This fic is part two of something I wrote for Everlarkbirthdaygifts a few months ago- you can find a link to that story here; this part is based on the 1952 John Wayne/Maureen O’Hara movie The Quiet Man, which is set in Ireland during the 1920s.
John Wayne plays a disgraced former boxer who moves to his family’s homeland for peace after accidentally killing a man in the ring. Maureen O’Hara is his tempestuous love interest. It’s a fun, beautiful, very romantic, and funny (she is a real hothead in the film, and they have great on-screen chemistry) movie that I highly recommend.
I hope you enjoy this little homage to The Quiet Man.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Ah-ah-ah,” Haymitch stops me in my tracks when he glances over his shoulder and locks eyes with me. The village drunk is certainly the laughing stock of this little sheep-farming bit of countryside where I’ve been living for the last six months, so I wait, fully expecting him to crack a joke and cut the tension suddenly formed between us.
I wait, and Haymitch waits. He doesn’t smile- instead, he stares me down as if I were a thief flinching his best white liquor from his cabinet in the middle of the night and not a man in the middle of courting a young lady, trying to lift her down from the buggy.
I guess even Haymitch takes some responsibilities seriously. I just wished for my own sake it wasn’t this particular responsibility. The confounding traditions these people have are outrageous enough on their own without his overbearing attitude. Back in the States, a guy could just pull up to a girl’s house, honk the horn, and wait for her to run out and meet him.
A fella wouldn’t be forced to sit on opposite facing seats in this “courting buggy,” driven around the countryside by the town drunk, unable to carry on any real conversation with his girl.
Not that I would ever honk for a girl, at least not for Katniss Everdeen, anyway. She is small and beautiful and fiery and has the loveliest grey eyes I’ve ever seen. I might have enough sense not to pull up to her door and honk my horn (I’d have to have a car in this country to do such a thing, anyway), but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to spend a little time alone with her, now that I’m officially seeing her.
Damn it all; there is an honest to God twinkle in Haymitch’s eyes when he addresses me again, but only after I’ve dropped my hands away from Katniss’s waist and stepped away from her. “Mr. Mellark-”
“My name is Peeta if you please. My father was Mr. Mellark,” I remind Haymitch, crossing my arms over my chest and staring back at him. I’m much bigger and stronger than him (I’m bigger and stronger than most men actually, or I wouldn’t have had the boxing career I left behind in the States), but that doesn’t deter him the least.
“Ms. Everdeen is a fine, healthy girl,” he continues, leaning back in his seat and waving his hands at us, his expression knowing, “and she is quite able to climb out of the buggy by herself. So there’ll be no need for any patty-fingers there, Mr. Mellark.”
I frown up at Haymitch and his sly words. There were no, as he implied, patty-fingers involved. I was simply grasping Katniss’s waist to help her get down from her side of the buggy. I know she is an excellent climber; I did just dislodge her hair and hat from a tall tree limb last week in the middle of a disastrous rescue of her sister’s cat.
All three of us are aware that we are doing today is simply an exercise in etiquette.
Katniss and I have spent this evening, our first official “courting” outing, chauffeured down the local countryside’s winding roads. It’s so beautiful in spring’s palates of greens-
(I love the beauty of this land. I don’t think I will ever tire of it- I’ve never seen such shades of green all my life. The land wasn’t like this back home in Chicago, but of course, when you grow up in an apartment above the family bakery, how is a fella to know what nature looks like? Sunday trips for a stroll around the park didn’t quite cut the mustard, either.
Here, the surroundings are a feast for the eyes. Everything is colored in varying shades of green, rolling on for miles and miles: the trees, the pastures, the pretty dress that Katniss is wearing today. It goes so smartly with her straw hat, which, I can’t help but notice, is the same one I had to help her dislodge from a tree branch just last Sunday. This place is serene and peaceful, exactly why I chose to come back to my ancestral home after leaving the boxing ring behind.)
- past neighbor’s farms, and stone fences as far as the eye could see. In his given role as one of the senior men (and the local drunk) in the village, Haymitch has driven Katniss and myself around. We are not to be alone together now that I am courting her- even though she has visited many times at my farm, alone, without any threat of ruination. The “courting” title is the only difference in any of it; I’ve wanted to kiss Katniss’s pert little mouth since the first time I laid eyes on her.
“Patty fingers?” I ask indignantly, although I do drop my hands from Katniss’s waist. A scowl forms on her lovely face, wrinkling her nose adorably.
“Quit your fussin’, boy. Now what I’m doing here, well, this is a good stretch of the road leading into town. I’ll let you do about a mile or so on your own; give you a chance to see how you feel walking together. I’ll be right behind you, so no funny business,” he directs. I move to put my hand on the small of Katniss’s back but am quickly tut-tutted by Haymitch. “Patty fingers!”
Katniss’s and my eyes meet, and she rolls her eyes at Haymitch’s evident enthusiasm for his task.
Ha- see if I’m eager to buy him another pint at the pub!
Instead of speaking, we walk close beside each other, not touching- the only sound the click of her low heels on the packed-dirt road. Once there is some distance between us and the buggy, I hear Haymitch make a clicking sound at the horses and snap the reins, and soon he is moving down the road, following us again.
At least this time, Haymitch is keeping a little distance- I know he is giving us some room to speak with each other, but I cannot think of a single thing to say to Katniss with an audience. We continue in silence, neither of us anxious to speak, which is unusual because I am quite the talker. Katniss, while not overly verbose, is rarely short of things to remark upon when she is alone with me.
Finally, I open my mouth. “You look lovely today, Katniss,” I say, admiring her because it is the truth, and you can never go wrong telling your girl she is lovely to you.
Her eyes skate over my frame quickly before she faces forward again. “Is that your best suit you’re wearing today, Peeta Mellark?” she asks, a grin forming at the corner of her mouth.
I smile at my full name crossing her lips; it reminds me of a prim schoolmistress- I like it very much. “Yes, it is my best suit, Katniss Everdeen,” I answer in kind. “Do I pass muster?”
Katniss’s eyes slide to the side; I catch her watching me. “It does look quite fine on you,” she says softly, glancing forward again.
I hear the buggy come to a halt behind us as Haymitch stops to speak to the vicar, so we stop in the road as well. Katniss faces me, and when our eyes lock, I have an overwhelming desire to be alone with her, talk with her, make her laugh, and maybe earn a chaste kiss. I want to know everything there is to know about Katniss Everdeen, and I cannot do any of those things with our chaperone in tow.
Although I would never say time spent with her is a waste, I am mourning the freedom of those evenings she would visit me at my farm, when we were alone to talk, even if it was only in the manner that friends do.
I sigh.
Katniss shrugs her shoulders. “This is quite ridiculous, isn’t it?” she bites back a smile. I think she’s growing as tired of the proprieties as I am.
“It is.” I agree. Neither Katniss nor I are youths needing looking after. I just passed my 26th birthday, and she is only a year younger than I am. Considering what I’ve been through in those short years, it’s been much longer than one would think since I’ve felt like a boy.
I catch sight of something then- a two-seater bicycle, leaning against the side of the pub, and it gives me an idea. “Can you ride?” I ask, nodding discreetly at the tandem. Katniss glances over her shoulder then, and so do I.
Haymitch remains in conversation with the vicar.
In unison, Katniss and I take off in a dead sprint for the tandem. Reaching it, I hop on the back of the two-seater bicycle, and she climbs onto the seat in front of me. Moments later, the two of us are riding the bike through the village on our escape route out of town, all to the sounds of Haymitch bellering indiscernibly behind us.
#everlark#everlark fanfiction#everlarkbirthdaydrabbles#everlarkbirthdaygifts#fan fic#by endlessnightlock
62 notes
·
View notes
Note
i beg of u. on bended knee. please write peeta on bended knee. by which i mean proposing. to katniss ofc
You asked for it...and here you go--
______
The bar—per every Friday night—was hopping. Round tables were filled with customers, old and young, and the noise was deafening. However, that was exactly how the owners liked their customers—jovial, bawdy, and just there for a good time.
Katniss looked around before waving at one particular waitress before reaching her usual table in the middle of the room. As she pulled out a chair and sat down, another woman approached with a group of her girlfriends.
“This is our table,” she stated before looking to her friends who snickered in approval.
Katniss smirked, clasping her hands and placing them on the table. “No, it’s not.”
“I know the owner and he said that it was my table,” she persisted. “So, you can just move—there’s room for you at the bar.”
“I’m pretty sure that he didn’t,” Katniss stated plainly.
Agitated, the girl placed a hand on her hip jutting it out aggressively. “How do you know?”
“Because he’s our Dad and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t say yes to someone who’s insulting the heir apparent to his business.”
A golden-haired waitress, blue eyes cool and strong stance, appeared before the woman.
“My sister has had this table reserved since she spit up on it as baby—not to mention, I’m pretty sure that she was conceived on top of it.” The waitress nodded her head towards the exit. “Now, beat it before you make the wall of people barred from Everdeen Spirits.”
The women quickly scurried away, and Prim snorted before turning to her sister.
Katniss stood up, hands on her hips. “Do you really have to tell everyone that story?”
“It’s gives the table a little more distinctiveness,” Prim responded easily. “Plus, I’m pretty sure our parents have had sex on at least one of these tables. I mean, I caught them making out behind the bar just last night.”
“Gross.” Katniss pulled her sister into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you!”
“Well, that’s what happens when you move to the city with your boyfriend!” They both sat down. “How is living in sin with Peeta going?”
Katniss frowned, resting back against her seat. “It’s been good—but lately, he’s been…different.”
Prim leaned in curiously. “How so?”
“He’s been working a lot lately,” she explained. “Then, there are mysterious phone calls where he hangs up right when I walk into the room and he’s been skittish.” Katniss turned to his sister. “We’ve known Peeta since we were kids—he has a tell. When he’s lying or doing something obviously stupid, he does this adorable thing where he scratches the back of his head…like he’s trying to come up with a good excuse for whatever he did.”
Prim look unconvinced.
“You’re right,” Prim replied. “We’ve known Peeta long enough to know that when he’s lying or hiding something, he’ll get caught.” She flashed her sister a smile. “The man loves you and you’ve been blissfully shacking up with him for a year now. Trust him.”
“And, you don’t think that he might be cheating on me?”
Prim reached, smacking her in the back of her head.
Katniss scowled. “Ow! What was that for?”
“Because you sound like a dumbass,” her sister retorted. “You love him?”
She sighed, nodding her head. “Yes.”
“Then relax, enjoy Thanksgiving week with our crazy-ass family, and get excited for karaoke!”
“Since when do we have karaoke at the bar?” Katniss asked with a smile.
“Since drunk people love to post videos of themselves or their friends singing ‘Don’t Stop Believin’ and tagging our bar,” Prim said. “I told Dad that it would be great for business and he agreed. Sometimes he even goes up there and sings—you know he has a voice of an angel.”
Katniss could see Darius, one of the head bartenders, setting up the microphone on the small makeshift stage.
“Oh yeah. Practically stole Mom’s heart with that voice.” Katniss smiled softly. “It’s nice to be home.”
Prim leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
“It’s great to have you home. I’ll have Vick bring your usual.”
With that, her sister stood up and headed back to the bar.
++++++
Once karaoke got started, Katniss put her thoughts on Peeta aside. Prim was right; there wasn’t a bad bone in Peeta’s body, it was why she fell in love with him.
What was once a childhood friendship had turned into love during a middle school dance. After being dumped by her boyfriend, Cato, for a girl who looked like her but had bigger boobs, Peeta had come to her rescue and asked her to dance.
Then, under an overabundance of streamers and the sound of slow jams on the speakers, Peeta Mellark became her boyfriend.
Surprisingly to a lot of people, they had remained together from high school through college—attending separate campuses—up until now. She worked as a paralegal for Haymitch Abernathy, a prominent Manhattan lawyer while Peeta worked as a sous chef for famed chef, Beetee Latier.
They were content with their life together.
At least, she thought they were.
The volume of the crowd heightened when her father crossed the stage. Richard Everdeen, with his salt and pepper hair and kind coal eyes, became everyone’s dad as soon as they entered his bar and it was apparent in the appreciative applause as he took to the microphone.
“Hello darling!” Katniss turned to find her mother pulling out a chair across from her. They embraced before sitting down. “I would have been out sooner, but I was having a hell of a time dealing with these wine distributors.”
“It’s alright,” she told her mother. “You didn’t miss anything but a round of Journey songs and a really good rendition of ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody.’”
“I really just came to the front for your Dad.” Her mother’s blue eyes went soft at the man on stage. “And you, of course.”
Katniss chuckled. “Thanks Mom.”
“Oh, you know I love my first-born baby!” She gathered Katniss against her. “But I’m always hot for my man!”
“And, you wonder why you two were never popular with the other parents,” she responded.
Her parents were great, but they were a little more…boisterous than the staid parents that often ran the events at the girls’ schools. That never bothered Katniss or Prim though as their parents were as supportive as any parents could be.
The girls were often the top sellers during fundraising events as patrons at the bar would buy anything to support the Everdeen girls. Or whereas a parent might run a cotton candy booth during the annual springtime carnival, the Everdeens were the ones who ran the dunk tank which often featured her father promising a free bottle of wine or soda for anyone who dunked him.
“Who needs popularity?” her mother said. “We have each other.” She looked around. “Where’s Peeta?”
“He should be along,” Katniss said. “Had to work late…but he should be here soon—I hope.”
Peeta had texted his apologies, but he was once again caught up with the restaurant. He spent less time in their apartment the more successful he became.
Her mother gave her shoulder a squeeze. “He’ll be here sooner than you think.”
Katniss nodded, turning her attention to her father.
“Anyway, thank you for coming in for this new thing we’re doing. My girl Prim’s idea—” The crowd whooped and cheered for Prim who did a curtsey from the front of the bar. “It’s a joy to hear all your beautiful voices—”
“SING!” someone called out from the crowd.
Katniss looked around quickly before turning back to her dad.
“I guess we’re getting a request,” her Dad said with a humble smile. “I’m going to dedicate this to my wife. Pearl, darling, this might be a little past our time, but I think you’ll enjoy for many reasons. Also, Katniss, my oldest girl, is back home so I think she’ll enjoy this as well.”
The familiar strains of the song began, and it was like she was 12 again—all legs and arms with no tits, but feeling the beginning of womanhood and the beginning of love.
“Darlin' I, I can't explain
Where did we lose our way?
Girl, it's drivin' me insane
And I know I just need one more chance
To prove my love to you—”
There was a scrape of a chair and suddenly Peeta was sitting right next to her.
“Peeta!” She beamed at him. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
Peeta pressed a kiss to her lips. “Sorry I took so long…Beetee is so panicked about making sure that the holiday menu goes as planned.” He turned to Katniss’ mother. “Hey Mrs. Everdeen.”
“Hey sweetheart.” She stood up. “I’m going to grab a snack for you two—”
“Mom, it’s alright,” Katniss assured her.
“No, no…” Her mother was already heading away. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back!”
Katniss turned to Peeta, who took her hand. “I guess she’s giving us alone time.” She smiled at him. “I really am glad you’re here. Truthfully, I’ve been a little worried about us.”
Peeta frowned. “Why?”
“You’ve been so busy…and sometimes I feel like you’re keeping something from me,” she replied.
“I’m sorry.” Peeta gazed at her, earnestness in those blue eyes of his. “I don’t know why you put up with me sometimes.”
“Because I love you, dummy.” His mouth widened at her words and she slid her hand to his cheek. “Always.”
Peeta covered the hand on his cheek with his own. “Always.” He looked to Katniss’ father and nodded a hello. “Do you remember this song?”
“Of course,” she replied. “It was the first song we danced to—when I got dumped for being Miss No-Boobs.”
“Trust me, the boobs came and more than made up for the delay,” Peeta told her with grin. He stood up. “Dance with me.”
She looked around the crowded bar as everyone listened to her father singing the chorus. Some people were even singing along. “Here?”
“Yes. I want to dance with my girl,” Peeta insisted as he stood up, pulling her along. He wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her close. “I remember being so nervous when I asked you.”
“You were my hero,” she replied as they began to sway. “Imagine I was thinking that I was so heartbroken over Cato when you were in front of me all that time.”
Peeta met her eyes, suddenly nervous.
“I’m really sorry if I’ve been neglecting you. It’s just that I realized something; I don’t want you to be my girlfriend.”
Her heart suddenly ceased to beat, and she pushed away from him, her eyes filling.
“Then you don’t have to be.”
Katniss turned but Peeta still held her hand. “Katniss—”
“Let go!” She was full on sobbing in front of everyone. “I don’t need to hear anymore.”
Peeta obliged her and let go.
Katniss pushed past the rush of people, wiping her eyes. She couldn’t believe that he was dumping her in her family’s bar, on Thanksgiving week—
“I'm gonna swallow my pride
Say I'm sorry
Stop pointing fingers the blame is on me—”
Why the hell was Peeta singing?
She turned as the crowd parted and Peeta, mic in hand, walked towards her.
“I want a new life
And I want it with you
If you feel the same
Don't ever let it go…”
“What the fuck are you doing—”
Peeta stopped in front of her, falling to his knees, as he continued to belt out the bridge of the Boyz II Men ballad.
“You gotta believe in the spirit of love
It'll heal all things
It won't hurt anymore
No I don't believe our love's terminal
I'm down on my knees begging you please…”
“You really should get off the floor,” Katniss told him. “It’s disgusting.”
“Not until you hear me out,” Peeta told her.
Her dad was suddenly by their side and Peeta handed the mic to him. The music stopped and the whole bar turned silent.
“I don’t want you to be my girlfriend, Katniss, because you are so much more than that. You’re my best friend, my biggest supporter, my guidepost, and advisor…because I do some dumb shit sometimes—”
She scoffed. “That’s for sure.”
“And, just like that, you keep it real. You’re also my soulmate,” he continued. Reaching into his pocket, Peeta present her with a velvet box. “I’ve already mucked this up, but hopefully this will help you understand.”
Her hands shaking, Katniss took the box and opened it. “It’s a ring.”
Peeta chuckled.
“That it is. A pearl in the middle because you love them so much—and of course, it’s your mother’s name,” Peeta explained. “The two diamonds to the left and the right are for your father and Prim. If you look at the outside of the band, there’s a small engraving of the signet that I found when I was doing research about the Mellark family during our senior year and if you look inside—”
Katniss pulled the ring out and looked inside.
“Always,” she read out thickly.
“I don’t want you as my girlfriend. I want you as my wife,” Peeta told her. “So, I’m on bended knee—on this beer-stained floor—asking you if you will please…please…be my wife.”
From out of nowhere, her mother pushed her forward. “For God’s sake, Katniss, say yes to the boy!”
“Yeah,” Prim said from the bar. “That floor is so gross and I’m pretty sure he’s wearing Armani.”
“Will all Everdeens please shut up—” Katniss called out. She joined Peeta, going to her knees, and looking into his eyes. “—so I can say yes to the man who’s loved me since before my boobs came in?”
Peeta blinked back in shock. “You’re saying yes?”
“I’m saying hell yes.”
Katniss watched as Peeta slid the ring on her finger with trembling hands.
Standing up together, her fiancé pulled her close to cover her mouth in a deep kiss.
“She said yes!” Her father bellowed to the crowd. “Free beer for everyone!”
The bar erupted in cheers as Prim, wiping her eyes, dashed behind the bar to help the bartenders serve.
Richard held his hand out to his wife. “I guess we’re having a wedding.”
Pearl wrapped an arm her husband’s waist.
“Our daughter must really love Peeta,” she said, watching the newly engaged couple, lost in each other’s embrace. “Because with a voice like that—”
“Well, let’s just hope that the children don’t inherit his voice.”
FIN.
Song: “On Bended Knee” -Boyz II Men
128 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Everlark Carols (Part 3, Up on the Housetop)
Happy December, Everlarkers! Some of you may know I was planning to finish Playlist: Home this December, but I came up with another idea after @everlarkchristmasgifts posted their list of prompts. For those of you who read the first part, you might have noticed it’s a sequel to Blue, the story I wrote two years ago for @everlarkchristmasgifts. Enjoy part 3!
The story page for The Everlark Carols is here.
“Hon, I think something fell off the roof,” I yell over my shoulder.
My husband, bless him, doesn’t even seem flustered when he asks, “Is it a reindeer?”
Laughing, I grip my mug tighter and take a sip of the cocoa Peeta made me again this morning. He’s the best because he also whipped up a pan of cheese buns that make my mouth water every time I smell them.
“I think it’s some sort of candy cane thing? I’m not really sure.”
He comes up behind me and kisses me on the cheek with a smack. “I’ll take care of it. Be back soon.”
He’s outside in seconds, bundled in a plaid flannel coat with a fleece collar he’s had since I’ve known him. I’d give him crap about it, but he looks really sexy in it, and I don’t want him to get rid of it. It’s comforting to see him in his oversized jacket, well-worn jeans, and scuffed boots. He looks a little bit like a lumberjack, and I kind of want to do him when he gets back inside.
Peeta grabs the plastic decoration (It is a candy cane! Go me!) and climbs up the ladder. His legs disappear above the window, and I hear him moving across the roof of the house when his cell phone rings. Glancing at the screen, I grab it and slide my thumb to answer the call.
“Hey, Finnick.”
“Katniss Mellark. As I live and breathe,” he drawls, and I have to roll my eyes at his flirtatious tone. The guy just never stops. “Where’s your gorgeous husband?”
“Up on the housetop.”
He chuckles for a moment and then realizes I’m serious. “You mean, like he’s on the roof?”
“He is,” I confirm, “but I liked the song version better.”
“If reindeer start flying, let me know. If not, well…then nothing. It’s normal when plastic decorations stay grounded. Either way, can you have him call me back?”
“Only if you promise to take my man out and show him a good time sometime this week. Poor guy’s been working so hard, and I think he’s in need of some guy time soon.”
“Oh, I’ll show him a good time. You know I will.”
I laugh because I know it’s true. Finnick’s been Peeta’s best friend for as long as I can remember, and it makes me unnaturally happy to know my husband has someone who cares about him as much as I do. If anyone deserves loyalty and friendship, it’s Peeta Mellark.
A few minutes later, Peeta comes inside, flushed and happy and cold. He kisses me with chilly lips, and I squirm when he teases me with his freezing hands on my back.
“Warm me up, Kat,” he murmurs in my ear, and I’m helpless against him. His mouth is insistent, and he picks me up and carries me to the couch. If our bedroom wasn’t upstairs, we wouldn’t have to settle for the sofa, but I don’t actually care that much one way or another. As long as he’s inside me, I’m good. Really, really good.
Soon enough, I’m naked and straddling him. His jeans are puddled around his ankles where they caught on the boots I admired when he was outside. His jacket falls to the cushions, and I tug off his t-shirt and sweater and toss them onto the floor. He guides my hips, and I release a shuddering groan as I sink onto him.
“Love you so much, baby,” he mumbles as he paints my neck with open-mouthed kisses that mark me as his. I rock my hips, and his respond. My fingers tangle in his hair, and the sound of slapping skin ricochets around the room.
I love this, the way he makes me forget my name and everything that hurts when we’re together. That he’s my family, and I’m his when we’ve both hurt so much in the past. I adore the way his forehead furrows when he’s close to losing control and the control he exhibits when he makes sure I’m almost there before he gives into his own needs.
We both have a million things to do before the day is over. I need to remember to give him the message that Finnick called once we’re done, but there’s no way I’m bringing that up when I’m riding his cock and desperately trying to hold it together so I can enjoy this a while longer. I have Christmas presents to buy; Peeta has cookies to bake for our Secret Santa exchanges. Something bangs on the roof, and I’m positive it’s another decoration succumbing to the wind, but it can wait. The world can wait.
It’s so cold outside, blustery and overcast, but it can’t hold a candle to inside where my husband brings me to climax, kisses me, and then comes with a groan so long and deep the sound of it alone curls my toes. He tugs me to him, and I collapse against his chest where his heart races faster than mine.
“Anything pressing?” he asks, and I shake my head, unwilling to let him go.
“Nothing more important than this,” I breathe against his neck.
He grabs his t-shirt from the floor, wads it into a ball, and gives us both a cursory cleaning. When he’s satisfied, he arranges me on the cushions and lays down beside me. His kisses are languid now, and I melt against him. His back muscles bunch under my fingernails when I rake them over his honeyed skin. After a while, our eyes droop, and he ends our make out session with a tender kiss to my forehead.
“Sleep,” he whispers and pulls a blanket over us. As the snow begins to fall, we spend the afternoon wrapped together in a long winter’s nap.
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Heart is Heavy - an Everlark!Bachelor-ish AU
I’m trash. I haven’t updated my fics in years but after watching The Bachelor last night (major spoilers below if you follow and know what the references are) I couldn’t unsee this little scenario. Sorry in advance. Maybe more to come.
Title comes from the Albert Camus quote: “Yes, be patient with me. My heart is heavy.”
...
My Heart is Heavy
She wasn’t supposed to be here. In what universe was Katniss Everdeen a contestant on The Bachelor?
This universe apparently. A universe where her nosy sister and her college roommate joined forces to submit her application. Prim thought Katniss needed love; Johanna thought Katniss needed to get laid. Regardless, they joined forces and for some reason the producers liked her look and the bio that the two had concocted without her knowledge. When she got the casting call, she figured they’d send her packing. She would do the audition process to appease Prim and get Jo off her back, but she would never get chosen. Somehow, the producers came back to her not a day after her final meeting with an acceptance. They probably figured she could be villain of the season - a surly, scowly girl bound to cause drama without even knowing what she was doing.
She really had no idea what she was doing. She didn’t know then. She didn’t know eight weeks ago when she first stepped out of a limo and stood face-to-face with Peeta Mellark. And she sure as hell doesn’t have a clue what is going on right now.
It is absolutely surreal. She just spent the entire day in Portugal with Peeta. Sweet, adorable Peeta, who took her to an old folks’ dance class where they spun with people who could be their grandparents, who didn’t speak a lick of English but smiled and pointed at them kindly, warmly, as if they were proud of these two random Americans with cameras following their every move. One woman, with curly gray hair that reminded her of Sae back home, danced with Peeta and pointed at Katniss - esposa? Esposa? And Peeta smiled that smile. The one that makes her stomach clench, a touch too shy not to be genuine, and met her eye.
“Maybe,” he told the woman. “If she’ll have me.”
And that’s when her stomach bottomed out.
She paces the floor of the extravagant 5-star hotel they’ve been staying in since they arrived a few days prior. Tonight is the infamous “Fantasy Suites” and on the way in from the airport, the other two contestants left - Glimmer from Alabama and California Cashmere - could not talk about anything other than what they were going to do to Peeta as soon as they got the key from the host, Caesar Flickerman.
I’ve heard great things about that mouth of his.
She takes a breath and continues to pace. Her poor producer has the camera trained on her as he sits on the couch. Pollux is quiet, but so is Katniss. They make a great pair - except for the fact that she’s sure they’re going to be hounding her for additional sound bites later because she and Pollux didn’t tape enough to fill her scenes.
There’s a knock on the door and she stops mid-step. Maybe it’s Caesar. Maybe Peeta decided to dump her before the evening portion of their one-on-one. She shakes her head. Peeta is too much of a gentleman for that. If he was going to send her home now, he would do it himself. Peeta has been nothing but honest this season - something some of the girls have been whining about behind his back. He hasn’t told any of the girls that he has loved them yet, specifically telling them on the very first night that he was going to try not to hurt anyone, try not to lead them on.
“The first time I say I love you on this journey, it’s going to be to my wife,” he had said. “And I’m so excited to figure out who she is.”
She looks up at Pollux and swallows her spit. It’s accumulating in her mouth like a fountain.
“Do you know who that is?”
Pollux shrugs, looking guilty. As a producer, Pollux is typically one step ahead of her at all times. She likes that though. He has been nice about it, sending her nonverbal hints about what is going on since she has never watched a single episode of The Bachelor in its entirety, though Prim gave her an excellent recap of the recent seasons before she left. He definitely knows who it is because he has his camera steady, poised and ready to go.
She walks to the door and swings it open. Her mouth drops.
“You gonna let me in, sweetheart, or you just gonna stand there dumbstruck?” Haymitch says, before pushing passed her.
Cressida, Peeta’s producer, told her that everyone loved Haymitch during her “Hometowns” filming and that the editors are having a field day with all of his one-liners. Prim was sweet and dainty. Jo was brash as usual. Haymitch was...Haymitch. That’s her family. Small, but hers.
And now the whole country’s, apparently.
“What are you doing here?” she demands. “Did you just leave Prim all by herself?”
“She’s a senior in high school, not a toddler,” Haymitch says. He smirks. “I left her a bowl of food next to Buttercup’s.”
Katniss glares and Haymitch collapses on the couch next to Pollux.
“What are you doing here?” she says, crossing her arms. “You flew all the way to Portugal? You’ve never flown anywhere before.”
He shrugs and eyes something in the distance. Before he answers, he stands back up and strides to the mini-fridge, rifling through before pulling out bottle of white liquor.
“I figured it was high time I explored the world’s bounty,” he says, gesturing to the liquor. “Also, when someone hands you a free ticket, you take it, kid.”
She sighs. The producers. Of course. Cressida mentioning Haymitch the other day wasn’t a fluke. It was a warning she never would have caught about them flying him in. But why would they fly him in?
Haymitch strides passed her and presses his index finger into her forehead. “You’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep overthinking everything.”
She swats his hand away and scowls as he takes his seat back on the couch. Then he pats the cushion next to him.
“Get over here, girl.”
She glares at him for a beat before she sighs and does just as he says, taking the seat beside him. They sit, both stiff beside each other, looking straight ahead.
“Go on.”
“Why didn’t you give Peeta your blessing?” she hisses. “He’s so upset.”
Haymitch keeps his eyes focused ahead of him, but taps his fingers against the glass of the bottle in his hand.
“It’s not mine to give,” he says slowly.
They sit in silence as it digests. Peeta asked all the families for permission to propose, something the other girls thought was sweet. Haymitch was the only father figure to say no. Normally, that wouldn’t bother her, because Haymitch is not her father, the tradition is a little archaic even if her father was still in the picture, and Haymitch would be the first person to tell Peeta that the permission isn’t his to give, it’s Katniss’s herself. But the fact that it meant so much to Peeta and Haymitch said no…
“That’s not it,” she says, finally turning to look at him. “Tell me the truth.”
“You’re right. I could have. It wouldn’t have been any skin off my nose to make some dumb line up to tell him.” Haymitch blows out a breath. “Katniss, I didn’t give it to him because I didn’t want to get the poor kid’s hopes up.”
She had a feeling that’s what he was going to say.
He shrugs and continues. “That kid loves you, you know. It’s written all over his face.”
She squeezes her eyes shut. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“And?”
Haymitch raises his eyebrows. “You need me to tell you everything?”
She covers her eyes with her hands before Haymitch can see the tears pooling in her eyes. It doesn’t matter. It isn’t as if Haymitch is going to pull her in for any sort of affectionate hug like the producers would want him to do. They just sit, side-by-side, while Katniss tries her hardest not to cry.
She knows Pollux is taping her. She knows this is going to be the start of her villain storyline. He told her the other day - when they got drunk at a bar together after Peeta left her hometown and Johanna cheers’d Katniss to ‘definitely getting a rose this week and getting her fantasy’ - that the producers all initially thought Katniss was going to be the villain but they had been pleasantly surprised. He told her that he was sure when the edits were made and the show started airing in January that she was going to be the frontrunner. She was going to be the girl the entire nation rooted for - he was, Cressida was, heck even Caesar Flickerman was rooting for her.
Until now. Now she is sure that the edits are going to make her look like a villain because she is one. And now that is finally going to come out.
“Talk, sweetheart. Just spew.”
She doesn’t remove her hand from her eyes but she does talk.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she murmurs. “I’m so confused, Haymitch.”
He sighs but doesn’t move to comfort her. She wants him to say something to contradict her. But he doesn’t and so she starts saying words she doesn’t want to mean but she knows she does.
“I can’t do this. I never wanted this,” she says. “I don’t know what to do.”
“And that’s fine because you are twenty-three and you have all the time in the world,” he says, in a rare show of wisdom.
“I can’t give him what he wants,” she says. She turns to him. “He wants a wife at the end of this and I...I can’t do it.”
Haymitch puts a hand on her knee. “That’s up to you.”
He knows why she ‘can’t do it’ but he doesn’t say anything for Pollux to catch on camera, to which she will be eternally grateful. It’s not something that she wants the entire world to know.
She hasn’t been totally honest with Peeta during their one-on-ones. He has told her very vulnerable things about his life. He has told her about his lackluster relationship with his father, his borderline abusive relationship with his mother. How his brother Rye is the only family member he really talks to anymore. She told him her father died and mother isn’t in her life right now but that’s all. He took that as enough vulnerability, giving her the rose for the night without pushing her to delve deeper.
She should have told him that seeing her mother turn to drugs after her father died swore her off relationships. She should have told him that she ruined her only solid friendship, her friendship with Gale, because he wanted a relationship and she told him to disappear if he couldn’t get over it. He couldn’t - so when he left for college that was it. She never saw him again.
Instead she told Peeta that when she was little she used to imagine a fairytale ending to her life that looked just like her parents’ - the big white dress, the happy little family, the whole soulmate thing. She just didn’t tell him that it all changed when she was eleven and her world collapsed around her.
No matter what she feels for Peeta - which is something she hasn’t allowed herself to even think about - this isn’t a good start to a relationship. It’s not fair to him when he has been completely honest and she has been manipulating him.
She puts her head in her hands. She was supposed to go home a long time ago. She wasn’t even trying to be the Bachelorette like some of the other girls, who strived to stay long enough to be considered. So why did she stay so long? Other girls have sent themselves home, why didn’t she?
She can’t think about that right now.
“I have to go home,” she says, looking up at Haymitch with puffy eyes and a red face the producers will love. “If I can’t accept his proposal, then I need to go home. He deserves someone better. Someone good like him.”
She has never once cried over a boy. When you close yourself off to the idea of love at eleven, it doesn’t leave a whole lot of room for crushes and first loves that leave you heartbroken, she supposes.
It had to happen sometime apparently.
Pollux shuts the camera off, giving her some dignity. She will have to thank him before she leaves. She probably won’t see him again after she and Haymitch board their flight back to the US. Will they stay tonight? She hopes that as soon as she tells Peeta, they’ll just head straight to the airport. She wants to go home and curl up in her bed and think about how horrible she is for what she has done. Remove all of her social media accounts and pretend like nothing ever happened.
Cashmere and Glimmer both actually love Peeta. Whether or not they love him more than the idea of being the Bachelorette or Insta-famous is yet to be seen, but they can say it. They can say that they love him. They can say yes when he asks to marry them.
She never wanted to get married. Prim and Johanna both promised her that she would be off the show before that was even a question.
Joke’s on them.
“You know you can’t go on Twitter when this airs,” Haymitch says. “Because everyone out there is going to roast your ass.”
She nods.
“I can see it now. You can live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve that boy.”
“Are you going to be one of my internet trolls?” she deadpans.
He smirks and tips his mini-bottle toward her. “Prim already made my Twitter handle.”
She chucks a throw-pillow at his head and Pollux laughs, the first noise he has made since Haymitch arrived.
...
Maybe more to come if anyone wants to see Peeta get heartbroken and then the two coming together.
#bachelor au#everlark#fanfic#drabble#everlark-drabble#it's been a long time since I've posted anything here#hope it's not too rusty
181 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dissever My Soul From Yours (part 2)
Written by: @alliswell21
Rated: Mature *Smut Ahead*
Warnings: Modern AU; Age Gap; Mourning; Grief Stages; Hurt and Comfort; Angst; Brief Description Of Domestic Abuse; Implied Past Child Abuse; Smut; Guilt; Canon Typical Anger Issues; Fasten your seatbelts, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride. All mistakes are mine.
Synopsis: Losing a loved one is hard enough, losing a child is torture. Peeta Mellark struggles to move on from the loss of his son, so he clings to the last piece of him left alive, his son’s girlfriend. Based on Prompt 106: Katniss is Rye’s girlfriend when he dies. Katniss and Peeta (Rye’s father) start to hang out to go through their grief together. [submitted by Anonymous]
Acknowledgements: Thank you Anon for this prompt, I wish I knew who you were to dedicate it to you, but I guess this way the story simple belongs to the universe :) Also thank you @kleeklutch for reading this through and helping me get my ideas straight… I truly loved your insights! lastly, thank you Everlark Fic Exchange from bring us all together!
Other Notes: Excerpt of the lyrics to “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” by Randy Newman (Toy Story, 1995)
Excerpts and rewordings for the poem “Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allan Poe; featuring the poem “Alone” by Edgar Allan Poe
This fic got away from me. I had outlined it to be around 8-10K words, but this monstrosity grew up to be close to 32K… this is the second part, and when I post the story to AO3 there will be an epilogue.
KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP
I press the call button, but chicken out after the first ring and hang up tossing the phone on the couch next to me and putting a cushion on top of it for good measure.
My childish fix doesn’t help one bit. The phone rings under the cushion all the same, because stupid smartphones are snitches. I miss the 80’s when the most technologically advanced phone was a wireless wall unit.
“Hello?” I answer, pretending to yawn. I’m not sure what does that help.
“Hey! Were you trying to call me?” She asks.
There’s something about hearing her voice that makes my heart stutter. Suddenly I want to see her. Badly.
“Rye’s headstone is ready.”
There’s a pause on the other side of the line.
“I’m coming over.” She says determinedly.
I hear some shuffling, her breathing pattern fluctuating while she does who-knows-what. Then she asks if I need anything, if I’m okay. But I only make some nonverbal noises. I just want her here. I’m about to tell her I’m going to put the phone down, we can talk when she comes, but I hear the unmistakable turn of a key in my front door, and when I look up, there she is, walking into my apartment.
Her hair is down, I’ve only ever seen it down a handful of times, but it’s the first time I feel the urge to run my fingers through it’s length. Pull on it a little. See what sounds she’ll produce if I do so.
My groin area grows warm and tight, and for a moment I lose myself in this devious reaction to her, a primitive hunger unfurling in my core, all consuming and blinding to the rest of the world. I hear nothing, smell nothing, taste nothing but the scent of her. I watch her with sicken glee as she hurries towards me. I twitch excitedly when she drops in the couch next to me, willing her to just come closer.
Yes pretty girl, come closer, put your sweet little arms around me, so I can… so I can… so I can…
The scary voice of the mutt inside me gets fainter the longer I repeat the the last three words.
So I can… Do what?
So I can do what?
“Peeta!” She squeezes my hand, breaking the cursed spell.
I tear my hand out of hers as if her finger had burned my skin. She retracts her hand and her face turns scarlet in embarrassment, but when my eyes can’t focus on anything, her gaze fills with concern.
“Hey, where did you go just now? Are you okay? I’m here.” She tells me soothingly, chancing a pass of her hand over my shoulder.
I have the feeling she’s been trying to get me out of it for a while. I wish I could tell her I’m fine, but the truth is that I’m shaky.
I don’t know what exactly just came over me. I felt like the wolf, disguised and salivating for Red Riding Hood’s tender flesh. I feel predatory. Dirty. Despicable.
I start crying. It’s all I can do to release this darkness inside.
I’m furious with myself when she mistakes my odd behavior as grief, and pulls me down to lay my head on her lap as the rest of my body curls into itself, because I should ask her to leave, I should tell her I may turn into a beast and devour her whole, but I refuse to deprive myself from her touch; because I’m selfish, because I’m disturbed in the head, because I’m a fucked up, lonely failure in love with his son’s girl.
Somewhere deep down, I’ve always knew I a was goner, and I hate myself for being weak, perverted and a bad father. The worst part, I can’t make myself want to stop falling for her.
——-
Rye’s headstone gets placed on his grave on a Thursday morning.
It’s cold and windy out, though the sun is shining. I’m surprisingly calm through the whole event. It just feels like it’s the end of the story. He’s gone then, for real. Nothing will bring him back and his name glaring at me in that fucking rock is the proof.
My father is bawling though. My mother can’t even look at the stone, it’s as if it hurts her, just glancing at it.
The cynical part of me rejoices that finally something happened to force her show she actually gives a damn. The vindictive side of me wants to scream at her, that she’s a hypocritical bitch, she tossed me out on my ass when I told her I was raising the baby on my own.
“If you think you’re big enough to ruin your life, then you must be big enough to be on your own.” Those words will be etched in my mind for the rest of my life.
At the end, after everything was said and done, it turns out my mother loved Rye, doted on him even. Grandbabies have that effect on people. They make the most unfeeling individuals softer, loving, sweet. I’ll never know what that feels like, loving your child’s child. My hopes for grandchildren are buried with Rye.
As if in autopilot, my eyes find Katniss and I stare at her, scanning her navy blue peacoat clad form from head to toe. Beautifully sculpted legs asides, I stop on her middle and stare where my grand babies should’ve bloom and be given life.
She’s free to find someone else to fill her belly with children. Though she says she doesn’t want them, I’ve seen her interacting with my nephews, she’s amazing with kids.
A possessive thought sinks it’s claws in my mind. Her womb should be filled with Mellarks, not some faceless schmuck threatening my legacy. But Rye’s is really dead, who’s stopping her from falling in love with someone else, marrying them, have children… be happy with a family of her own, where I have no place in.
Now I’m angry at Rye for dying.
He left me alone. He took my potential family with him into his grave.
Katniss wanders off after paying her respects to Rye. Her mother and sister trail after her like a family of ducklings.
When the three of them are together, is clear to see who the head of the Everdeen household really is.
Prim came to the cemetery with two small bouquets. One she placed against the shiny, new headstone of one Rye Joshua Mellark, the other, I see her place in a vial on the mausoleum where ashes are put to rest.
Something tells me that if I came snooping around, I’d catch a glimpse of Mr. Everdeen’s last resting place.
“Bread Boy, when are you heading home?” Jo startles me, when she sidles closer on my left.
I turn to look at her, but she’s staring at the Everdeen’s in the distance.
“As soon as she’s done,” I gesture to the Everdeens vaguely.
Jo frowns, so as way of plantation I inform her, “She came here with me.”
Jo gives me a disapproving stare that I ignore. After a while she simply sighs. “That was ballsy of you. Stealing and rewording Annabel Lee.” She says in reference to a line I commissioned to be etched at the bottom of the headstone.
She entones,
“Wingèd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted him.
And this was the reason that,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Navy seaman”
I glare at her for a moment.
“I thought Rye hated Poe.” She adds flicking her fingernails, and old habit of hers. It means she’s holding back.
“He still knew it by heart.” I deadpan.
“Because it was your favorite! You used to bored him to tears with it. How come you’re still trying to shove it down the poor kid’s throat?”
All gloves are off now.
“Because of her!” I point in the direction of Katniss, hissing and whispering harshly. “She loves Poe! and then he did too! I just didn’t know it until the wake. Then, she shows me some of his letters; he wrote the most beautiful poetry I’ve ever read, and he was fucking amazing, Jo, the kid had a natural talent with words we never knew!” I’m so angry at Rye.
I’m also jealous. I feel like he hid something we could’ve have in common, bond over probably, and shared it with someone else instead. I feel he kept part of him from me, and that just hurts deeply.
I paw off an angry tear from my eye, “He credited me for his love of dark poetry.” I say bitterly. “Apparently, lying to his girlfriend about how he adored her favorite author, instead of telling her he felt indifferent about it, was what got him into her pants. I don’t know, Johanna. It was Katniss’ idea, to include Annabel Lee since it was Rye’s favorite poem according to her.”
Johanna’s face remains hard the whole while.
“Did it occurred to you, that maybe your son did like your pal Eddie after all? Obviously he was into emo chicks I find hard to swallow. And since when did he have to show you his love poems? You were his dad! He loved you, but he was his own person too, Peeta.” She starts to walk away from me.
“Tell me when get your head out of your ass. I’ll be here waiting with tequila, seeing as you refuse to listen to me.” She tosses over her shoulder heading towards my dad and brothers.
I’m mad at her too!
On the ride back home, we’re both quiet. Our hands kept brushing against the other over the center console the entire ride.
We stop at a restaurant, because we are not ready to go back home to face our new reality after Rye.
My hands keeps finding her waist, the small of her back, the end of her braid. She seems content with my proximity, leaning into me, holding on to my arm when we walk, and when we’re finally seated, the touches just get bolder. At one point, my forearm rests on her knee while we play thumb war on the table with our free hands.
The waiter wishes us to enjoy the rest of our date, and she smiles brightly at him and thanks him. We hold hands the rest of our meal, all the way to the car and all the way up to my place. She spends the night in the spare room Jo hasn’t stayed in in 7 weeks. I’ve been counting.
We change out of our nice clothes, I miss seeing her in a dress and heels, but I like her in her yoga pants more. I’m in basketball shorts and a plain white t-shirt with my socks clad feet on the coffee table, watching Impractical Jokers.
She plops sideways next me, so her whole back is resting on my right side from our hips up. My arm goes around her automatically. This closeness feels natural, right, comfortable. Domestic.
She’s reading some book, only glancing at the tv when I’m laughing very hard. During a commercial break, she asks if I’d like a drink or a snack. I’m not used to anyone catering to me this way, but she kisses my cheek, patting my chest, and all I do is nod.
She comes back with a bottle of Mike’s and a bowl of popcorn, the resumes her place up against my body.
“What about you?” I ask curiously.
“What about me?” She questions not looking up from her book, twirling the end of her braid around her fingers.
“You don’t want a snack?” I ask her, squeezing her side a little.
She makes a face, “We’re sharing!” She looks at me with a ‘duh’ expression that simply shuts me up.
I chuckle a little, and pull on her braid wanting to be playful, “Why do girls sit like that all the time?”
“Like what?” She turns her head to look at me.
“Crisscrossed applesauce.” I point at her legs. “It doesn’t matter where you guys sit, your legs always go like a pretzel under yourselves.”
She looks at me under her lashes for a second, and shrugs.
“Is comfortable.”
“How? I’ve seen girls sit on the bakery chairs that way. It looks painful as hell.”
“Don’t know what to tell you, Peeta. I’ve never thought about it.”
“Yeah, but… isn’t it weird that every. Single. Girl does it? Hell, Jo sits that way!”
“Then why do you ask Johanna about it?” She snaps aggravated.
Well, I didn’t expect this vipery response. Girls do this regarding other girls too. They get catty.
She goes back to her book moodily. I simply hug her. Rye’s mom used to have this same reaction to Jo. A hug usually mollified her, and as Katniss starts to relax in my embrace, I think I’ve succeeded, so I also go back to watch the tv.
“Why does Johanna hate me?” She asks casually after a while.
I turn the volume of my show down, though her nose is firmly planted in the book I realize with a jolt is one from the box I gave her a few months ago. Girls also like to seem casual about things that truly bother them. I remember that from Rye’s mom.
“She doesn’t hate you.” I say softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “That’s a strong word.”
“Could’ve fool me.” She says under her breath.
She doesn’t say anything further, and I wait a minute longer just in case, but I go back to my show since she’s yet to stop reading.
Ten minutes later, she adds. “I don’t like her either. So I guess we’re even.”
The truth is that neither has to like the other. I like them both and that’s what matters, but I know for a fact that saying that will just make her angry enough to leave, and I don’t want her to leave, so I keep my mouth shut.
She leans her head on my shoulder a few minutes later, and without thinking about it, I place a kiss on the top of her head and rest my cheek on it.
“How come you didn’t tell me this were all your books? I was bound to figure it out at some point. You’ve scribble on most of the margins. Which isn’t entirely kosher, you know. You’re defacing the books.”
I chuckle, dropping another kiss to the crown of her head, “It wasn’t important. Sorry if my notes bothered you.”
“I wasn’t bothered. I’m just telling you that other people would find that off putting.” She snuggles into me.
She doesn’t say anything for a bit. Then she speaks quietly.
“Rye told me once he felt like you were more involved in our relationship than he was. He was joking of course, but he said that he didn’t mind it as long as we kept the geeky to ourselves when he was around.” She closes the book and lowers it to her lap, her face finds the crook of my neck, but she doesn’t stay there long.
She sits up. “You know what I thought about today?”
I shake my head, my hand still resting on her hip, willingly her to sit back as she was.
“I thought, that now that he’s officially gone, we don’t have to hide ourselves anymore.”
She turns to face me, her eyes are filling with tears.
“Does that make me a bad person?”
She doesn’t let me answer. She’s up and inside the spare bedroom in the blink of an eye. She cries the rest of the night, locked behind the door. I just sit on the floor with my back on her wall and let her say her final goodbyes.
———
It’s May 8th, Katniss’ 22 birthday, and she warned me to not even think of congratulating her. She’s going to see her sister and mother this weekend, back home in Panem, but today I took the day off and left the shop in my store manager, Rue’s, capable hands.
Rue and Katniss met a couple of years ago at the bakery and hit it off despite there being a few years age gap. They speak a language of their own those two, and though I knew of Katniss’ birthday because of Rye, it’s Rue who insists I do something low key for her.
At 6:15 I rap on her door, and rock on the ball of my feet holding a tiny bouquet of wild onions and katniss blooms behind my back.
She scowls at me as soon as she opens the door.
“Wipe that silly grin off your face, Peeta. I’m warning you, I don’t do birthdays.”
“Come on!” I cajole stepping into her apartment when she stomps back in. “You don’t even know what I’m here for!”
She just glares at me, and I smile widens. I stick the flowers and inch from her nose, unable to say any of the words I had practiced on my way down to her floor.
Instead, I just say, “I’m taking you up!”
She’s staring at my flowers, still not taking them from my hand, but her eyes are as big as silver dollars.
“Where did you get these?” She asks in awe caressing a petal of a katniss flower.
“Garden on the roof,” I say nonchalantly.
“What? That’s impossible!”
“Not really. There’s a bunch of the things up there. If you wanna see it, then put on some shoes and I’ll show you.” I tell her easily.
“I’m in my pajamas!” She protests.
“So? I think you look cute. Plus nobody goes up there anyway.”
We’re out her door and in the elevator in a heartbeat. She’s exuding excitement and it’s contagious. When we step in the 13th floor, there’s a flight of stairs we have to climb and then we’re on the roof of the building.
Her mouth drops open in astonishment when she sees the sea of wild flowers all over planters in every inch of the roof, and in the very middle, there’s a picnic set up.
“Where did all this come from?” She whispers out softly. Her hand gliding over the cheerful blooms closest to her.
“Well, technically, they all came from Panem!” I say simply.
“How?” She faces me demanding my answers.
“I had your sister’s boyfriend find them for a fee, and then I just transplanted them here.” I say trying to shove down the ever increasing anxiety I’m feeling. “The duck potatoes were the hardest ones to get to take… you can recreate their habitat without water.”
Her eyes snap to me dangerously. “What kind of fee did you pay?”
“Monetary kind.”
“How big of a fee? Because these plants are basically weeds in the woods back home, and if Rory dared to rip you off—“
“Katniss! Can you for once, just enjoy something nice some has done for you? let someone else worry about costs and such for once.”
Her eyes soften. “You didn’t have to go through this trouble,” she gestures around us.
“Just say you like the flowers, and that you’re hungry, and we’re even,” I smile at her.
She smiles back, albeit reluctantly and nods.
We’re both wearing crowns of dandelions she weaved for us, dipping cheese buns in hot chocolate, when she asks seriously, “How did you come up with this idea?”
“You said you wanted to go home. And I know you’re going to say you’ll be in Panem Friday evening, but when you talked about your favorite birthday being out in the woods with your father, gathering wild onions, and katniss tubers, and mint leaves… I wanted you have that memory back, but I’m not your father, I’ve never set foot in woods in my life. I know how to tend a garden, and I figured the city needed more pretty wildflowers, like you.”
“Peeta…” she sighs my name, and I swear I’ll never forget the effect that sound had over my body and soul. Her eyes search mine, imploringly. “Why are you so nice to me?”
I stare at her for a moment, the words that come of my mouth, escape without my consent.
“You know why,”
“I do?” Her voice is breathy, and dances away with the swift breeze.
“You have, no idea the effect you can have…” my voice matches hers.
I don’t think she meant to speak the words, since her lips barely move, but I heard them all the same, minute and ethereal, here a moment and gone the next, “kiss me?”
And who am I to deny her anything?
In the blink of an eye, I lean forward and pull her lower lip inside my mouth, I release soon after, to kiss her properly, and my hands move in to trap her face and pull her closer to me. Her hands take hold of my wrist and she just sighs contentedly against my mouth.
In a matter of seconds, she’s migrated to my lap, and the kisses turn into a straight up makeout session. Things just escalate from there without any kind of brake. We are free falling, and neither of us cares.
My lips and tongue seek her skin hungrily and she’s just too happy to oblige dipping her head back granting me access.
Is an unseasonably warm evening, so we’re both wearing shorts, hers is a flimsy material that matches her tank top. I’m taking complete advantage of her skimpy sleep clothes, my hands caress the supple olive skin of her shapely legs all the way down to her ankles, then creep back to her hips.
My lips are attached to her jaw, my tongue dances across her neck and collarbone. At some point, we ended up laying on the picnic blanket. I’m hovering above her.
“Is this okay?” I whisper into her ear, nipping her lobe before sliding my hand into her hair to undo the braid.
“Yes,” She sighs.
I kiss her some more and she speaks raggedly against my lips.
“Peeta. You make my heart race…”
She takes my hand, and slips it flushed against herself from her hip, all the way to her chest, where her heart is indeed beating frantically. The palm of my hand is half on her breast and half over the spot where heart beats. Her tank rides up as she drags my hand up her body.
I swipe my thumb over her nipple under the thin fabric of her shirt, and she arches her chest to meet the slight touch. I take it as permission to dip my hand under her top, and almost cry when I’m met with bare flesh. I push the tank top up and she raises her arms so I can pull it over her head. After tossing her shirt to the side I dive in to devour her perky, pretty breast.
She digs her fingers into my hair, to keep my head in place. She didn’t need worry. I’m not going to stop sucking on her nipples any time soon.
I’ve pinned her lower half to the ground with my hips, but I don’t dare move for fear that I’ll explode in my shorts. Katniss is making the most delicious noises I’ve ever heard, undulating her body against mine, and I have to give her something to stimulate her, so I bring a hand to her knee and let my hand travel slowly upwards and inward, as I suck and kiss her breasts non stop.
I’m only aware of how big of a mistake touching her there is for me, when I find the cotton of her panties soaking wet and hot. She shouts as soon as my fingers find her.
“Peeta… please…” she begs.
So I slip one finger under her underwear, and find the glorious mess of her arousal, dripping wet and warm.
“Fuck, Katniss… you’re soaked.”
“Your. F-fault.” She meowls twisting under my weight.
“My fault? Do I make you wet often?” I tease her slit unhurriedly.
“Y-yessss. Ah… lot…”
“When?”
“I don’t. Knooow. All the tiiiiimeeeee?” I slide my finger inside her and her head rolls back.
“Peeta… don’t… tease!”
Her own slim hand snakes down our bodies, and palms the bulge in my shorts. Is too much, I pull away but she whines. She opens her glassy eyes, and stares me down until she’s wrestled my cock out of my shorts.
Her grey eyes grow determined, she pulls my erection in her tight fist making me grunt with want. I push her panties aside, just as she positions the head of my cock at her entrance.
“No more teasing!” She breathes out sternly.
“Whatever you want, Katniss. Just answer me this question first,” I plead, and she nods. “Are you in love with me?” I hear the shakiness in my voice, the desperation, “I need to know.” I whisper into her ear, leaving a kiss in the shell.
“Yeah,” she breathes out against my cheekbone. “Been for a while.”
I picture in my head all the times I’ve caught her staring at me, blushing and smiling sweetly. I know in my heart she’s accepted her feelings and come to terms with them before now, I want to give her anything she wants, including my heart, if she asks for it on a platter!
I press into her slowly to give her a chance to adjust to my girth. She gasps, and her clever dainty fingers curl around my shoulders tighter the deeper I go. She’s so wet and welcoming, her body offers no resistance whatsoever. Her walls envelop my erection like a fitted glove, accepting the intrusion with a warm, snug hug.
She feels like heaven.
Once I’m completely sheathed in her, all I can do is hold on to her hips for dear life while I wait for my lungs to breathe naturally. I’m scared I’m going to blow my load if I move, it’s agony trying to tell your body to calm the hell down when all I want is to get lost in the sensations.
She seems to understand I need a minute, because one of her hands let’s go of my biceps, caress my face lovingly, then she kisses my jaw and nuzzles her nose on the side of my face.
“We have all night, take me slowly.” She breathes into my ear.
My forehead drops to the crook of her neck for a moment. It’s been so long since a woman has shown me affection, I want to soak it all up and live in her warmth forever. I kiss a path from her cheek to her mouth, and start moving slowly within her.
Pulling almost all the way out, then plunging back in quickly, thrusting all the way to the hilt. The elastic of her panties rubbing on the side of my dick drives me insanely hard. Her hot breath hitches every time I enter her hightnenig the feeling.
She barely makes any noises, her mouth forms a silent scream, I’m convinced I just expelled all the air out of her body when I slid in.
I pick up my pace, when her feet lock around my calfs, thrusting faster and harder; that does it for her, and I swear is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
She moans my name over and over, her body seizing under mine, and her walls fluttering around me ushers my own release.
I slump on top of her and she attacks my chin and neck with tight lip nips. She actually bites the collar of my t-shirt and pulls on it like a playful puppy.
She giggles, and starts playing with a curl of hair that’s fallen on my eyes. My whole body shakes with her laughter.
“What’s so funny?” I ask her curiously cracking one eye open so I can look at her disheveled, beautiful, flushed face.
Her hair falls wildly around her head like an inky halo. I love it. I love her.
“Nothing really. I was just mentally calling myself a horny hoe… you felt so thick inside me, I was wondering how long I’d have to wait to see your hard dick properly? I was wondering if next time we could be completely naked? I could give it a lick if you think that’ll help…” she trails her short nails down my arm blinking her lashes innocently.
Then, she purrs, “Can’t wait to give you head.” She has the fucking audacity to suck her bottom lip inside her mouth giving me a peek of her teeth and pink tongue.
I’m rock hard and ready to go, just like that.
She oomphs when I scramble off the ground pulling her up by the waist. I grab her top and shove it in her hands before picking her up and throwing her over my shoulder, like a sack of flour. She squeals and kicks at first, but then she just giggles as I bound down the stairs, leaving behind the picnic to deal with later.
Her shorts and panties are still askew from before. I run a finger down her messy slit and inform her, “You can have me naked and in your mouth in a minute. But I’m eating you out first, so brace yourself sweetheart, I’m not done with you just yet!”
———
I wake up to a rain of sweet, loving kisses peppered all over my face by luscious, warm lips.
I try to trap her in my arms, but she’s sitting in a very weird position just out of my reach. She giggles pecking my eyelid.
“I have a meeting with a professor in an hour. I have to go.”
“Is he hot? Your professor?” I ask sleepily.
She chuckles. “No. Professor Lattier is awfully smart and a great mentor, but I don’t find him attractive.”
“I don’t like having competition… the brainiacs are the worst!” I lunge at her and drag her back into the bed as she yelps. “They always end up charming the pretty girls, at the end of the movies.”
She turns in my arms laughing, until she’s laying across my body. Punctuated with lazy kisses on the lips, she assures me, “You. Have no. Competition. Anywhere!” She smiles down at me, “I happen to like the jock, wrestling champs, with hearts of gold type… like you!”
“Good! Everything is right with world then.”
We kiss again. Languidly.
“I’ll bring take out for supper this evening?”
“But I texted Rue that I wasn’t coming in today either, so I could stay in bed with you all day!” I pout. “Can’t you just meet with the professor real quick and come home right away?”
She giggles again, and kisses me all over.
“I think we need a little break to rest ourselves, don’t you?” She combs my hair back off my forehead. “You can have me all to yourself tonight, I have to finish my graduation project this week, otherwise…” She runs the palm of her hand down my bare chest with a wicked smirk. “That was some birthday gift!”
She’s fast though. Before I can move to pin her under me again she hops off the bed and blows me a kiss from the door.
“You minx!” I call after and her melodic laugh trails down the hall and dies when she leaves the apartment.
I try to sit up, but every muscle in my body screams. My junk is chafing too. She’s probably right about that break; I can’t imagine how she feels. I took her in every conceivable position I know, and made her cum at least twice as many times.
I lay back down and reminisce on last night’s events.
It wasn’t all just mindless fucking, we had some quiet moments filled with meaningful conversations or just easy banter. Our age difference was never an issue last night, and although in the last few years I’ve gotten a bit of a flabby belly, she seemed to enjoy my body as much as I enjoyed hers.
It was what I’ve always pictured a healthy, mature relationship would feel and look like. I can’t wait to be with her again, and I don’t mean in bed.
I want to take her out on dates, or just sit sit somewhere quietly and sketch her. My mind gets away from me, planing future trips to Europe, because once, she mentioned how she’d love to travel but never had the means to since growing up she had to help support her sister Primrose.
I’m not a millionaire, but I’m pretty loaded. I could take her anywhere in the world. I think we should start with London, so she can visit all the places she knows from literacy. I bet she’d get a kick out of Paddington Station. We could get a Sherlock Holmes and also a Harry Potter tour… she’s so well read, my Katniss!
But the human mind is just as much a pitfall of despair, as it is a well of dreams and noble ideas.
MY Katniss?
She isn’t mine.
She belongs to Rye.
Guilt, shame and self loathing hits me like a ton of bricks.
What have I done?
The roiling in my stomach gets painful and I have to rush to the toilet to vomit.
I get up, shower, avoid looking at myself in the mirror for fear of what I’ll find in my reflection.
The out of the blue, I have to see.
The white hair in my temples looks painfully obvious now that my hair is damp and a shade darker. My two day stubble is also sprinkled with the white fuckers, mocking me.
Suddenly I’m questioning if any of her actions were real. Did she mean anything she said last night about liking me?
Our age difference is so stark and jarring when she’s not around to muddle up my thinking process. I can’t think straight when she’s around. I’m not sure is my memories of her are real or not. Looking back, everything has a shiny quality to it, too hypened.
After getting dressed, I pull the covers off the bed and switch them for clean ones. I febreze the entire bedroom, because it’s smells like sex with her, and I can’t deal with the emotions her scents stirs in me.
But I’m jumpy. I need something to do, so I go through a box I haven’t dare touch since packing it back in winter. I’m not ready for this, but in the dark recesses of my mind, some nagging voice suspiciously similar to my mother’s says that I deserve punishment for being a weak creep.
My hands tremble when I grab Rye’s duffle bag. He never got the chance to fully unpack.
I’m a despicable piece of shit! Here I was planning some romantic trip with his girlfriend, when I never once asked him if he wanted to go somewhere. Granted, we did travel some when he was young, we visited most of the important landmarks all over the continental US, and when he graduated high school, before boot camp, we went with Jo to Hawaii for two weeks. He tried to look excited, but I knew he missed Katniss the whole time. I wish I had asked her mother permission to bring her with us.
Could I’ve been that dad that condones their underaged children have sleepovers with their sweethearts? Did any parent in the world actually allow that?
I gave my child the best life I could; why do I steal from him in death, is beyond me.
The tears start falling freely as soon as I unzip the bag and I’m met with my boy’s scent. The first t-shirt I pull out of the duffle, I recognize as one he’s had since high school. I completely lose it.
I bring the worn cotton to my nose and breathe my son in. I hug the shirt to my chest and scream in pain. I can’t go on for maybe an hour, and really I should just stop, find one of those hermetic storing bags, so every ounce of my Rye’s precious essence is preserved. But I need to atone for what I did. I can’t even think of it or call it by its name, but the ugly sensations twisting the pit of my stomach into a knot won’t let me have a reprieve, so I keep unpacking, and then I see it, rolled up into a sock, stuffed into a boot, a tiny black box.
I don’t wanna open it, I don’t wanna know what’s inside, but what else could it be?
And now I’m filled with full hot white rage. So much so I want to go find her, yell at her, tell her how much I hate her for what she’s doing to me, to Rye. To his memory, but I don’t, I just sit there and cry.
————-
“Knock, knock!” Her voice is cheerful, carefree, innocent, and grating in my ears.
Up until this point, I’ve only blamed myself for the betrayal of Rye. But now that I hear her, I realize she was an all too willing participant in this debacle,
going as far as inciting the events. She has a responsibility too in this mess.
A small voice in the back of my mind tries to tell me that I’m just projecting my own guilt on her, that my anger is unwarranted, that she has no idea of what I’ve been stewing in my head all day, but I want to be angry, I want to lash out, I want her to feel as sad and hurt as Rye probably does right now!
‘It’s the grief talking’. “It’s the truth!” I argue with myself with low growls.
She walks in the kitchen and the smell of fried rice attacks me, making my stomach churn uncomfortably.
“Hi handsome!” She greets obviously to the storm brewing in my chest. “Did someone forget it was my turn making dinner?” She asks playfully when she sees me hard at work kneading some dough.
“I didn’t forget. I just don’t want Chinese food” I say quietly.
She had been unpacking bags but abruptly stops, I glance at her for the first time since she left this morning, and I punch the dough harder than is necessary.
She’s so beautiful it’s gutting me out.
The smile etched in her face slowly falls as the tension in the room mounts.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I bought all this food because I’ve been ravenous all day after last night. I could’ve gotten something else.” She chuckles nervously.
I stop kneading, and take a beer from the fridge.
“I think you better leave.” I say flatly, take a nice long drink from my bottle the whole time staring her down.
“Are you… is this… did I miss something? what’s- what’s the matter?” She’s visibly stunned, there are around 10 little containers of take out sprawl on the counter, she eyes them wearily, but starts putting them back in the plastic bags she brought them in.
I have to hold onto the back of a chair, just to feel in control of myself.
I can see the concern in her eyes. I know her well enough to know she’s trying to tamp down her own emotions, she’s very wise that way. If she doesn’t understand something, she waits until she can see the whole picture.
“I just… I can’t deal with y— ‘it’ right now.” I bow my head and squeeze the back of the chair until my circulation cuts.
“Did I do something wrong?” Her voice is thin and broken.
That’s when I scream at her.
“You don’t think cheating on your dead boyfriend is enough wrongdoing?”
She flinches at my outburst, frozen in place.
“He bought you a fucking ring, you know, and you repay him by sleeping around?” I accuse her viciously.
She’s panicking, but I don’t feel anything right now, other than shame and guilt, and she’s the cause of it. The floodgates of hell have been opened, I can’t stop the vile that comes out of my mouth, even though I know I’m being completely unfair.
“My son hasn’t been in the ground five months and I’m fucking his girl raw! But you ask if you’ve done something wrong? You’re letting me, a man 18 years older than yourself, fuck, you who can barely rent a car legally! You should be mourning my son, not sleeping with me, that’s what’s wrong!”
I take a lamp from the corner of the counter and throw it across the kitchen until it smashes on the wall besides her.
She shrieks and slings herself the opposite way.
She doesn’t move for a minute, huddle by the refrigerator. She looks terrified and my heart breaks into a million pieces.
“I— Katniss—” I try.
She shakes her head, extends her arm and gives me her palm to stop me, to keep distance between us. She grabs the bags of food trembling like a leaf from head to toe, muttering under her breath between choked whimpers something about the homeless around the corner, and how much they’ll appreciate a nice warm meal.
Her face is a mess of tears and snot.
I want to rush to her, wrap her in my arms and apologize a million times, whispering in her ear that I didn’t mean it, that it’s not her fault, that I’m a jerk and a fuck-up just like my mother always told me I was.
But I don’t move and inch. I’m not just an useless fuck-up, I’ve turned into a monster, an abusive mutt. I’ve turned into my mother.
I’m paralyzed. My body doesn’t respond to my frantic commands, not even when she hightails out the kitchen.
“Katniss?” I plead choking back a sob.
But the front door slams after her.
———-
It’s been a week since I scared Katniss away, and I feel like shit.
I run into her in the lobby. She perks up, standing straighter, and I can’t help my wandering eyes.
Her hair is loose today, and she’s got makeup on, she’s wearing slacks and a nice flowy blouse. I wonder where is she coming from, but instead of talking to her like a normal person, I ignore her.
My eyes flit back towards her, then I board the elevator and we just stand face to face, staring at each other mutely. She’s chewing on the inside of her cheek and holding to her big girl purse as she calls it, for dear life. Neither of us move but eventually the elevator doors start closing.
There’s a fraction of a second in which her eyebrows arch expectantly, like she’s giving me a chance to do something; her gaze searches my eyes, but I see the disappointment dulling down her usually sparkly eyes. She finally lets her eyes fall away. The last thing I see before the doors are shut, are her shoulders hunching.
My eyes are stuck on the spot I last saw her, but in front of me is only my own reflection on the buffed steel surface of the elevator.
I look even older.
Is better this way. I have no business messing with a 22 year old. She can do so much better. She did so much better. She used to have Rye. Now she’s got no one because I took myself from the equation.
The next day I come home to a neat pile of books on my coffee table that weren’t there when I left for work in the morning. On top of the books is a note hastily scribbled in Katniss’ loopy handwriting, and on top of the note, the spare key to my apartment she had never gotten around to return until now.
My eyes prickle with unshed tears.
She returned even the books she took the day of the wake.
With a pang to the heart I pick up the note and stick it on the fridge, right on the place she had leaned her head to cry on, because I deserve to be reminded everyday of the things I’m not allowed to want, let alone have.
‘Alone’
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—
Edgar Allan Poe
———
It’s been over three months since I last saw Katniss. Closed to 9 months since laying Rye to rest.
Thanks to Rue I know Katniss graduated college last week. Her mother and sister were here for that, and she got a job her professor recommended her for. She didn’t even interviewed for it! It doesn’t surprise me. She’s so smart and clever, she is also such a hard worker.
I was so proud of her, I think I smiled the whole time Rue was talking about Katniss’ accomplishments.
“You should call her.” Rue says and my smile fades. “Whatever fall out you two had, it’s obvious you miss each other.”
“No. I’m being realistic, she doesn’t need me holding her hostage to some loyalty to Rye. He’s dead, she’s not, she deserves to live her life.”
“I understand you want her to move on, but so should you, Peeta. Loving someone is not a sin. But not fighting for that love… well, that’s just tragic. Don’t look at me like that, mister!” She sasses when I just stare at her in disbelief. “I’ve known how you felt for her for ages.
“You think you’re so discreet? Well, it’s pretty much written all over your face. That lovesick puppy face you make when you say her name is a pretty obvious giveaway.”
“What? you’re exaggerating.” I protest.
Rue just cocks her head to the side, stares at me and says, “But, am I?”
———-
I get a ping on my phone and I’m surprised to see it’s from her.
17:55
Katniss: Hey! Can we talk?
I delete the message. It’s taken me too long to get her out of my system to fall into this rabbit hole again.
The next day, she calls, and I let it go to voicemail. She calls two more times and I let them ring until the phone goes silent. She leaves messages, but I don’t hear them before erasing them.
She texts again two days later.
18:33
Katniss: When will be an appropriate time 2 call U?
28:34
Katniss: Or U can call me. I’m free anytime
I ignore those too.
Johanna finally comes to the city, once I tell her I cut Katniss completely off my life.
She dusting a picture of Rye wearing his 8th grade quarterback uniform.
“He hated football.” I say glancing at the picture. “He hated wrestling. He hated baseball. He hated art. He hated everything!”
“He loved track and swimming.” Jo says smiling down at a picture of baby Rye eating a lemon wedge.
“Two things Katniss is good at.” I grimace. I didn’t mean to say it aloud. But all comes back to her at the end.
“Good riddance.” She breathes out. “I’m so relieved you’re not seeing her anymore.”
My heart squeezes tightly in my chest. I feel like Johanna during Christmas all over again, when I didn’t want to go to Panem and she could understand why I wouldn’t just get over my sadness and join my brothers with all their living sons and have a merry holiday.
“Why? What did Katniss ever do to you, Jo? What is it about her you hate so much? She’s a sweet, caring, smart, beautiful girl. She doesn’t deserve all this hostility!”
Johanna is just staring at me weird.
“WHAT? Goddamnit?” I yell.
“You’re crying.” She says simply.
I hadn’t notice. Having tears rolling down my face is so commonplace now, I don’t even feel them anymore.
Johanna breathes deeply, gets up from her spot and gives me a hug. “I don’t hate her. I just don’t think is healthy for you to hang out together.”
“I know that! You don’t think I know that? But is not the way you’re thinking. You think she’s gonna hurt me, when in reality I’m the one who hurt her. That’s the reason I let her go, because she needs to be protected from me.”
Jo looks perturbed, and she doesn’t know half of it. So I fill her in on my doomed relationship with Katniss. The whole time, she just made faces, interjecting here and there, piecing the story together.
“Peeta! Please tell me you didn’t sleep with her?” She asks anxiously and a little grossed out.
When I don’t answer she says my name again in disappointment. “Were you at least safe?”
I refuse to answer and her face tells me just how bad I’ve fucked up as if I need her judging me, it takes her a while to look at me again, but she finally resolves that the next thing I need to do is have hot date, expensive food, and a good fuck with a lady more on my age bracket, and I’ll be good as new.
I don’t want to date and fuck anybody other than Katniss, but I let Jo convince me that her remedy will work, because it’ll be like a rebound. I’m not sure about her logic, but I let her set me up in a date, for the next weekend.
On Saturday night, I open my front door, and jump back startled, when I find Katniss with her knuckles poised to rap on my door.
I frown. She’s persistent.
And as pretty as ever, if a bit fuller looking. Johanna would have a field day talking about how round and rosy Katniss’ cheeks are.
She’s startled too, but undeterred.
“Hi, Peeta!” She says shyly, “Um, do you have a minute? I’ve been wanting to talk to you. It’s kind of important—“
“Sorry, I’m late for a date.” I say stepping out of the apartment and locking the door.
“Oh?” Her eyes flit away, I see the pain in her face, and it sucks.
“Maybe I’ll see you around sometime next week.”
“Mmm, m-my lease is up actually. I’m moving back to Panem in a few days. But I have to t—“
My phone rings, and it’s my date.
“Sorry, I have to take this… I’ll try and catch you up?” I walk away, and see the agitation in Katniss’ gray eyes.
“I just need a minute, just a minute,” She practically begs. But then holds back, standing in the middle of the hallway.
I answer the call and my date tells me she’s 10 minutes away from the restaurant, so I hurry away to the elevator. When I turn around Katniss is still standing there, dejected.
It strikes me as odd. Her eyes are always so sparkly, even during Rye’s funeral her eyes sparkled, but right now they look dull and sad.
I’ve just walked away from the girl I once sworn didn’t want to lose. And a conflict unfolds inside me, on the one hand Rue’s telling me to fight for her, on the other, Jo keeps telling me I’m better off without her.
Who I’m I gonna listen in the end?
———-
I’m pissing drunk. I can barely hold myself up, but I do my best, until I’m in front of the door I’m looking for through slitted eyes.
I pound on the door as savagely as the coordination of a man with this level of intoxication can muster.
And then I start slurring loudly.
“Kantiss! You cock-blocking, cock-blocker!
“Kantsissss. You win goddamnit!
“I miss you!
“Hell, I’m fucking in love with you!
“Kat-niiiiith!”
I pound on the door again, “I’m yours! And I’m sorry I’ve been such a… mmm… Kat—” I slip a little.
When I get up, I start just chanting her name.
“Katniss, Katniss, Katniss, Katniss, Katniss, Katniss,”
A door two apartments down the hall flies open, revealing a bewildered Katniss in yoga pants and a loose t-shirt. Her hair is piled up on top of her head in a messy bun. I sigh like a schoolboy when I see her stalk me, looking positively angry.
“Heeeey, purty thang!” I smile dreamily at her.
“What the hell are you doing, Peeta? You’re gonna get us in trouble!” She pulls me away from the door I’ve been hollering at.
“Wait!” I exclaim alarmed. “Where we going? I been knockin’, and callin’ and tellin’ ya shit… you-you came out of the wrong door!” I look back at the door but still go willingly after her when she tugs on my hand.
“Uh, sorry to break to you, Peeta, but you were about blast down the wrong door.”
“Na-uh! You live in D12!” I inform her proud of myself.
She glares at me. “I know! It’s been my address for a few years now. But you were screaming at D10, you’re lucky Dalton is out of town.” We are about to cross under her threshold, but she turns around sharply. “Did you drive here? How did you get home?”
“I drove myself silly! But first I stopped at the vodka store, because you can’t get smashed without vodka!”
“So you did this to yourself intentionally,” She rolls her eyes and pulls me inside her apartment.
“Duuude! This is exactly like your old place! Look it, it even has the same stain of pasgetti I left on the carpet!”
She huffs. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.”
“Are we gonna… do… IT?” I whisper the last two words as if I’m saying something naughty.
She shuffles me inside the bathroom, and frowns a little with her fists on her hips. Without turning to look at me she says in a no nonsense voice, “We are not gonna have sex, Peeta.”
“Whyyyy?” I whine. “You’re hotter than a hapaleño! Wait, that ain’t right… ñalapeño, haranero?”
“It’s either habanero or jalapeño. Sit down here and take off your shoes and socks.”
“Yeah! That’s it! hañavero!” I smile goofily, doing as she commanded.
I’m not very coordinated so she has to help, and once my feet are bare, I wiggle my toes at her.
She bats my foot away before gesturing with her hand. “Shirt.”
I raise my arms so she can pull of my shirt off, but it’s a button up, so she has to undo the top three buttons before pulling it over my head.
“You didn’t tell me why you won’t let me do you?”
”Pants and underwear off. We’re not having sex because I’m angry at you, Peeta. Plus, you’re skunked and smell horrible.”
“I love you!” I tell her.
This makes her stop for a second to glare at me, before continuing.
“I love you too. Even though you’re a jackass.” She deadpans. “Sit tight for a second, I’m gonna get the water.”
She takes her own close off real quick and we get into the steaming shower together. She washes my body as if I was a toddler. She even bats my hands away sternly when I try to touch her breasts.
“You have amazing boobs! I think I’m in love with your boobs.”
“I know. Turn around and rinse off.”
Once she declares us cleaned, she gives me a towel and I do a mediocre job drying myself. I follow her to bed. We climb naked under the covers, I’m so tired I don’t even try anything funny.
“Marry me, Katniss. We should get married,” I stare into her face, while she settles next to me.
She combs my hair softly, not quite smiling.
“Ask me again when you’re sober.”
“Willyousayyes?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hey, Katniss, have I ever tell you about Lavinia?” She shakes her head. “She has auburn hair and dark green eyes that you’d think are emeralds. She was the first girl I fucked. We fucked like bunnies. In the car, in the movie theatre, in the public library bathroom, in her folks bed, in my dad’s bakery closet. You name it, we’ve fuck there. I knocked her up. She wanted to have an abortion, I told her I’d support anything she wanted, because I was scared shitless.
“Lavinia’s daddy was a preacher. He didn’t let her have the abortion, but she didn’t want to keep the kid. So, the day Rye was born, I fell in love for the first time, ever! I felt bad I wanted Lavinia to abort him. The child was a joy to be around. So sweet, so funny and opinionated. Lavinia only met him a couple of times. She didn’t come to his funeral because she felt guilty. Her loss. My boy had a family that doted in him, and family who adored him, and a gorgeous girl to call his own, he never really miss her as a mom.
“But that made think. Maybe, just maybe, Rye was here on borrowed time? And then I think back on all the wonderful times we had together… he was my greatest treasure, my greatest accomplishment and my greatest love. I wish I had given him siblings. I love babies, but the right woman never came along until you showed up, and I feel terrible that I’m stealing from Rye, but I went to see him tonight instead of going on that silly date. I mean, I went to the restaurant, but one small conversation with Ms. Cashmere sweater- whatever her name is- and I knew I wasn’t gonna stay long, and she didn’t regret it either.
“But, yeah… I went to Rye’s grave, I came clean to him. I told him how I felt for you, and I asked him to forgive me. I told him, that if you’d have me, I’d try my best to honor and cherish you as much as as he did. And I would treat you with love and respect… and then, a breeze started blowing. Sweet and fragrant and warm. It felt like he gave me his blessing, which was further confirmed when I got to my kitchen and was drinking my vodka, and in my head, I heard him reciting some words, and then he said I could borrow his poem. So, here it goes:
“— Our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Katniss Everdeen;
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Katniss Everdeen;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Katniss Everdeen;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
Katniss Everdeen.”
I pause and look up at her, she has tears in her cheeks, silent ones, but not angry ones.
“Did you see what I did there?” I ask her trying to wink. I’m still pretty drunk, but this, I’ll remember in the morning.
She smiles sadly, “Yeah. You replaced Annabel Lee’s with mine. So clever, Peeta. Just one problem, won’t mr. Poe be angry for your plagiarism?”
“What are you? Poetry police? Nevermore!” I shout and she finally gives me a real smile.
“You’re impossible.”
“Nevermore!”
“Nevermore yourself!” She chuckles, “Go to sleep, you crazy man. Who goes to the graveyard at night?”
“I had important business with my boy.” I yawn. “Hey Katniss. I won’t forget to ask you to marry me tomorrow. I remember everything about you! So think about your answer? I’d like to know what’s in your mind. I know you don’t want babies. I’m okay with just being us two. But if you ever change your mind, that’s cool too… just think about it. Say you’ll think about it,”
I don’t hear what she says, sleep catches up with me, but I’m okay since my beautiful Katniss Everdeen is next to me. All my nightmares nowadays are about losing her.
———-
“Peeta?”
I hear her voice coming groggily from her bedroom. I would’ve answered, if I knew where my voice had gone to.
I hear shuffling and moving in the other room, then she pads almost silently to the living area. I hear her sighing and walking again. The bathroom door opens and she screams when she turns the light on and she sees me sitting in the tub.
I don’t turn to face her.
I can’t.
My eyes are fixed in the grainy, black and white picture I snatched from the fridge door this morning after getting dressed and attempting to make some very strong coffee for myself.
I’ve been sitting in the bathtub with my knees drawn to my chest staring at this image ever since.
Once she recuperates from the jump scare, she walks cautiously inside, lowers the toilet lid and takes a sit. She says nothing, but feel her inquisitive eyes on me.
All I can think to say is, “Is this what you were hounding me to talk about?” I caress the glossy picture with my thumb.
My eyes flit to her quickly.
Her hands are neatly clasped on her lap.
She nods slowly. “It is.” She confirms.
“Why didn’t you say anything last night?” I ask her holding her eyes for a short moment.
“Your were drunk as a skunk! Your head wasn’t in a very good place, and earlier when I went to see you, you acted like you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”
I release a stuttering breath. She’s right, I did dismiss her without giving her the chance to say her peace, and later I just barged in here like a mad man.
“And… You’re keeping it?” I’m trying hard to tamp down any emotions I’m feeling, which are confusing at best.
“I am. I really want it.” Her voice is small but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips.
“Is this why you’re going back to Panem? What happened with that job offer here in Capitol City?” I ask nervously.
“I turned down the job. My mama said I could come back home, she’ll cut down on her hours at the hospital to help watch the baby, while I figure what to do for a job. I could apply for few positions there, it shouldn’t be that bad. And Prim…” she hesitates grimacing. “Prim will go to medical school as planned with her scholarship and grants and the small chunk of money my father had the foresight to save all those years ago.” She shrugs, “We’re gonna make it work.”
“So… your mother knows?” I keep running my thumbs over the sonogram.
“Of course she knows. I had to tell someone. Who better than a highly qualified nurse practitioner who’s also my mother?” There’s a hint of reproach in her tone.
I feel like such a tool right now. “Does she know who the daddy is?” I enunciate.
She frowns. “I didn’t have to tell her actually. She… she kinda just knew. She wasn’t even mad, just… disappointed.” She sighs.
“Okay. And… what about me?”
“About you? I guess is up to yourself.”
Then before I swallow down the words, because I know it’s a terrible, terrible, terrible stupid thing to ask, my mouth runs idiotically in the worst possible question ever. “Any chance I’m gonna be a grandpa?” I grimace right away. I know this is costing me mayor points with her, and I can’t afford that as it is.
I’m surprised she still responds.
“I would have to be 19 months far for this child to be your grand baby, if that was even a remote possibility.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Not that I have to justify this to you, but FYI, including yourself, I’ve slept with only two people my whole life, and neither is related to the other.
“Rye and I never had sex. We never had the chance. The night he got murdered would’ve been our first time. He wasn’t concerned with sexuality, in fact, sometimes I wonder if he was asexual or something. I guess we’ll never know. Now, can you stop with the weirdness?”
Well, this is news.
Katniss and Rye were serious since before he was deployed. I never actively thought about Rye having sex, it’s just too strange, disturbing and gross to think about, but it actually surprises me more to hear he and Katniss weren’t physically intimate than the opposite. Too many implications that only the two of them understand.
The way he spoke about her, or how he looked at her like she was the sun. I know my son was smitten. I can’t imagine him not wanting her sexually.
But I guess, you don’t have to be physical to express love for somebody. Besides the one crazy night of passion, Katniss and I have never been romantically involved, yet we had a level of intimacy I’ve never experience before, and I’m completely smitten with her.
“Katniss, I honestly don’t wanna know about Rye’s sexual life—“
“You brought it up!” She snaps.
“Sorry.” I mutter sheepishly.
“You should be!” She’s fully scowling now, “The issue with sex with Rye was always a touchy subject for me. For the longest time, I thought that there was something wrong with me, or that he was a closeted gay guy with a girlfriend, wouldn’t had been the first sailor to do something like that.” Her legs are crossed now as well as her arms.
I’m no body language expert, but she looks very defensive and unapproachable right now.
“Look, my bladder’s shrunk to the size of a lima bean. I’ve been holding it all this time because I think it is important we have this conversation, Lord knows we have too much shit to deal with, we may even need professional help depending on the direction we’ll take with this, but I have to pee, badly, and I really want a break from this conversation, because you keep putting your foot in your mouth, and my patience is running thin,”
I assent, knowing she’s right and willing to start being the man both her and the baby deserve, I climb out of the tub heavily. I pass her still sitting on the toilet, bouncing one leg impatiently and her arms still crossed over her chest.
My mind starts wandering down the wrong path, but I force myself to bring it back and keep it on the straight and narrowed. I won’t let go of the sonogram though, and I’m not sure what am I gonna tell her, but I’m keeping it.
Once in the living room, I don’t know what to do with myself. I keep pacing in a irregular circle, from the kitchen to the tiny two chair table that doubles as her dining room, around the couch and back to the kitchen to start my loop again. After three laps of that, I start wondering if the baby is hungry?
I should’ve asked Katniss when was the last time she ate. I should make her breakfast! I have cheese bun ingredients upstairs. She likes those!
I knock on the bathroom door and speak loudly. “Hey, Katniss… I’m gonna go make us something to eat. Text me if you want me to bring it down here, or we can eat up if you like.”
“Okay,” comes her response. “I’m feeling nauseous right now, but I can eat!”
The idea of someone saying that, for real, tickles me, but something tells me laughing out loud about it right now will be counterproductive.
I’m almost giddy hopping on the elevator and waltzing through my apartment door. I turn on my oven, gather all my supplies, set Pandora to something cheerful; I’m feeling ska, because is that kind of morning, old school but colorful.
30 minutes later, my buns are in the oven, and my figurative “bun in the oven” rings my doorbell.
I sigh dreamily when I see Katniss.
I wonder if the fact that I know she’s pregnant makes any difference in how I look at her? So I indulge myself in simply staring at her in a way I’ve never allowed myself before: unapologetically hungry.
Her hair is wet and tightly braided, she’s got clean comfortable clothes on and is barefooted. She realizes I’m starting at her feet.
“I just felt like it,” She says jutting her chin out at me.
I raise both my hands in surrender. I’m not going to say anything. I’m smarter than that. Instead, I direct her to the breakfast bar where I’ve set my best china, glass and silverware. I wanted to put flowers on the table for her, but I don’t have even a measly fake one in here, so quickly I whipped up some frosting, in a few several colors, and voila!
Flowers!
Sugar flowers stuck to an upside down mixing bowl, but still, flowers. A whole bouquet of wildflowers, like the ones I used to have out on the roof, before everything fell apart, and I never returned to tend my garden.
I usher her to her seat, and help her on the stool, though I know she’s perfectly capable of getting on it herself, I can’t curb the need to touch her… any part of her.
“For you!” I plate two cheese buns on a dish I’ve pipped wild onion blooms on the edge of.
Katniss’ eyes go wide.
She takes one cheese bun delicately, and bites into it with relish. She closes her eyes while chewing, and after swallowing, the floodgates lift.
I panic. I jump from my stool and round over to her, I pick her up bridal style, and carry her to the couch.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it!”
“Nothing is wrong!” She cries loudly. “The buns are perfect.” She heaves a deep breath.
Now I’m at a loss, wondering what triggered this episode. “Okay, but why are you crying then?” I try to be as gentle as possible.”
“I’ve missed cheese buns! I’ve been craving them for weeks, but you were ignoring me, and I went to the bakery to buy me some, but they were out… and I was so hungry! I ate a whole large pizza all by myself, and threw it all up after… now I can’t even smell pizza, I start gagging.”
She gives me look of misery, then asks me in a tiny voice.
“What if the same happens with Cheese buns? What if this baby decides to hate them. They’re my favorite food ever! I don’t wanna have to start eating gluten free. I want my bread to be gluten full!”
“That’ll be ironic, actually. I mean, It’s a baker’s baby.”
She cries even harder after my attempt at a joke.
“This isn’t funny, Peeta! Your baby is making me sick! She hates food!”
“She?” I ask, Katniss isn’t even showing, but I wonder if science is advanced enough, you can tell a baby’s gender so early on.
“It’s a She… Everdeen’s only give girls,” She grouses.
I smirk, “Mellarks only give boys,” I smile at her. “Ask my mother, she’ll complain about it. No daughters or granddaughters for her.“
I lean back on the couch, and she falls on my chest like a rag doll. I start rubbing circles on her back and feel her relax on top of me.
“One thing I learned in biology when I was a kid, is that men give the gender chromosome. So maybe is a boy…”
Then all the excitement of the news, crazy as they are gets smashed to smithereens.
“So… I’m not looking to replace my son.” I say bluntly.
She sits up and looks down at me wearily.
“I’m not asking you to.”
My arms fall off of her when she stands from my lap. I let her go, because I need my space right now.
“What are you asking then, Katniss?” I cringe internally, I sound accusing even to myself.
“I’m not asking you anything!”
“Really? Because you sure as hell wanted to tell me I knocked you up, very badly!”
She blushes violently. Her eyes are on fire.
“Is the responsible thing to do!” She yells. “You have the right know. In the sea of irresponsible shit I’ve done in the last few months, this I wanted to do right, because I owed it to everybody: you, Rye and the baby and myself. Whatever you do with the information is totally your prerogative.”
She’s crossed her arms again, but let’s her shoulders fall. “I was hoping you wanted to be part of the baby’s life. I know you already raised a baby from infancy and this is like starting over again, so I’ll understand if this isn’t for you—“
I dig the heels of my hands in my eyes. And then say what’s on the tip of my tongue.
“Let’s get married, then.”
She frowns. “No.” She answers emphatically.
I roll my eyes in frustration. “Why the fuck not?”
“Because last night you were drunk as fuck, borderline alcohol poisoned, and you still managed to do a better proposal then.” She says throwing her hands in the air.
I did propose to her last night, at least twice, and it did sound better than what I just said.
“I don’t want you asking me to marry you, because I’m pregnant.” She deflates plucking a cheese bun from her plate, then sitting on the corner of my coffee table facing me.
“I want the baby, though.” I stress. “I just don’t want to replace or replicate Rye.”
“No child could ever replace another.” She says looking older than her age, not for the first time.
Sometimes I forget Katniss is truly and old soul trapped in a young, hot body.
“Peeta, this baby complicates many things. I’m going back to Panem because my mom wants me there until I know what I want to do about my future.” She pauses. “I’m terrified.” She confesses. “Not of the baby! I want this child so much I feel like I’ve been living a lie forever. Which is scary in a different way.” She explains.
She takes a bite of bun and I just stare quietly. Not moving a muscle.
“People will gossip,” I point out stupidly.
She shrugs, “Prim’s not talking to me at the moment. She called me a hussy. What do I care if other people talk about me?” Her lip quivers.
I’m beyond pissed off at Primrose. I don’t understand how she could’ve said something like that to her big sister who has always sacrificed for her.
“Don’t go back to Panem then. Stay in the city.”
She shakes her head, staring at her half eaten cheese bun. “Mama says Prim’s just in shock. She’s grieving Rye, and she’ll come around when the baby is here.” Katniss shivers.
“But Prim was so nasty when I told them you were the father. She yelled that I went after you because I’m some kind of horrible gold digging cunt.” She breaks down. “I never thought my little sister could be so mean and angry…”
I grab her in one swoop move and sit her back in my lap, where she belongs.
I kiss the shell of her ear, her neck, her jaw.
Her hands grasp my shoulders, and her mouth opens up when I kiss her lips. I feel our lives aligning again.
“Everything is gonna be fine, sweetheart,” I tell her raining kisses on the side of her face. “We have each other.”
She relaxes against me, letting me hold her close. She moans softly into my mouth. I bring us down from the steep road we’re taking. It’s incredible to me how fast we go from zero to banging just with a couple of kisses.
“I’ve wanted you for so long. Sometimes I’m convinced I’ve wanted you even before Rye was taken from us. If anyone is a hussy, that’s me, not you. You’re so… pure! An angel. The only bright spot in my sad, dreary life.” I hesitate for just a moment, but I take her hands in mine, and look her straight in the eyes. “I love you, Katniss.” I say seriously.
She blushes, but her smile is more radiant than the sun. She tries to hide it thought.
“I know,” she mumbles, the ghost of her smile hovering. “You blurted it out a few times last night.”
“And, you?” I ask nervously, “You love me. Real or not real?”
“Real,” she smiles softly.
“Marry me?” She makes an unconvinced face, so I rush, “We will go at your pace. We will do as you say. I’ll support your decisions, always.” I kiss her lips again and rest our foreheads together. “I don’t want you to go back to Panem. Will you consider moving in with me? Or at the very least renewing your lease?”
“I told my mother I wouldn’t go back to you until we got some things worked out.”
“You… told your mom about getting back with me? Like she knew you’d want to come back?”
“I told mama everything. And I mean, everything! She knew you’d try to lure me back in eventually. She asked me if I’d consider it, knowing how badly things went? I said I might. I loved you enough to think about it. So… we’ll see.”
“So. You’re saying there’s a very good chance?” I know I’m pushing it, but I need to make sure.
She huffs. “If we do this, Peeta, I have a list of demands:” she announces business like, “I want you to seek anger and grief counseling, because I’m not a fucking statistic! I will not live with you in fear that something would trigger a hijacking episode and you’ll yell at me and destroy shit in a fit of anger. I get that you grew up watching your mother doing that exact same thing, I just want it to be clear, I won’t tolerate that behavior. You never did it to Rye, which means you can control it. So, control. It.”
I grimace. “Katniss, I already felt like shit about the whole thing. How do you think I feel now, knowing I threw a lamp near you, and you were already pregnant?” We just stare at each other for a moment, “You want me to get help? I will! Today!”
“Good… I’ll consider your many proposals, then”
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
Santa's Official Helper
Day 3 of the Hayffismas Week : Au or Semi-Au based on a Christmas book/Movie/Song etc
Summary: This is a Modern AU based on a scene that I had Seen on TV.
You can also find it on [AO3]
__________________________________________________
Peeta Mellark stood in The Twelve’s library, staring at the empty red velvet chair in the town’s small scale version of a Christmas Village, looking for all the world like he was about to burst into tears. His uncle, Haymitch Abernathy stood behind him, looking like he had no idea what to do if his nephew were to burst into tears.
“It’s - it’s alright, Peeta,” he said, giving the boy’s shoulder a squeeze. “You can leave school a little early tomorrow, and we’ll drive down to Portland and go to the mall there.”
Peeta looked up at him uncertain, his lower lip pushed out in a rather endearing pout. “But tomorrow is the holiday party at school. You said you’d help me make cookies tonight.”
“Right…” Haymitch frowned. He’d known that, but things had been a bit busy the last couple of days with it being so close to Christmas and the end of the year. It was the first Christmas he celebrated since he was sixteen and it was because of his nephew. The child's family had died in a fire and he was the only superstite. They have been living together for almost a year.
He had always hated Chistmas, even when he was a child. But here he was, in a place where his nephew should have meet Santa Claus, even if he was nowhere.
Haymitch was certain though, that he had read the times for the Christmas Village in the paper correctly. “Santa” would be there from ten to seven, and it was just now five o’clock.
But there was no Santa, just an empty chair.
“Oh!” came a voice from the back of the library. “I’m sorry! I didn’t realize anyone came in.”
The man’s face lit up as Effie Trinket came around the shelves. “Trinket,” he started, then he stopped and his mouth dropped open when he saw what she was wearing.
The green skirt was a bit shorter than her usual wardrobe, and it puffed out around her legs from the crinoline that was beneath it. Her top was a simple green button down with some red and white embellishments, but what really made her ensemble were the candy cane striped stockings and the sparkly red heels. She was the most adorable Santa’s elf he’d ever seen, and he was quite possibly even more smitten with her. And that was saying something given that he’d been besotted with her from the first day they met and had been harboring a growing crush every day since.
"Finally, you have learned my name. But you should add 'Miss' before my surname." She said amused.
“Uh, I’m - I mean we were -” He snapped his mouth shut and pressed his lips together, struggling for words as a slow smile spread over her face.
“Where’s Santa?” the child asked.
Effie’s face fell. “I’m so sorry, dear. He had to, uh, go - back to his workshop.”
Peeta shuffled his feet and pushed his hands down in his coat pockets. “Oh. Why?”
She knelt down in front of him and gave him a small smile. “Well, there was a problem with some of the toys and he had to make sure it was all fixed in time for Christmas.”
Her eyes darted up to Haymitch’s face, and her smile broadening when she met his stormy grey eyes. “It was very last minute, I’m very sorry. I meant to put up a sign, but I got distracted reshelving some books.”
Haymitch shook his head. “That’s quite alright, Sweetheart.”
The woman glared at him, probably because of his lack of manners.
When he had met her the first time he had noticed that she loved to behave like a proper lady. And he had found entertaining to annoy her, so he used pet names like Sweetheart or Princess.
"He is a very busy man." She added.
The Santa duties were usually covered by a combination of Mr. Heavensbee from the drugstore and Mr. Odair who taught biology at the high school. Something must have happened to one or both of them for there to be no one to cover.
“Will he be back tomorrow?” Peeta asked.
Effie bit her lip and shot another look at Haymitch. “I’m sorry, but Santa’s schedule is so busy he won’t be able to come back tomorrow.”
The child looked almost distraught. “But Mitchy - how - how will I tell Santa what I need for Christmas?”
The man braced himself for a difficult evening of dealing with an extremely disappointed six year old. “Well, uh, we - we can go this weekend...” No, there was the Everthorne’s party this weekend in the woods. “Or, um…”
“Hey, darling,” Effie said, her voice just above a whisper so that Haymitch could hear what she was saying.
He flash her a smile when she glanced up at him, grateful that she’d sensed his distress.
Peeta immediate turned his attention to her, and she leaned in with a sly smile. “You know, I’m Santa’s Official Helper in Twelve. If you tell me what you want for Christmas, I can tell Santa.”
Peeta titled his head to the side. “How?”
“I’ll text him.” the woman grinned. She didn’t care if it made sense or not, if it made the child happy and save his uncle some grief, it was worth it.
The boy’s eyes went wide. “You have Santa’s phone number?!”
Even though it was harmless white lie told for the benefit of a child, she still felt quite important.“All Santa’s helpers do.”
“Wow…” His voice was hushed and he looked up at Effie in awe. Then he pulled a face. “Do I have to sit on your lap?”
It was all she could do not to laugh, and when she looked at his uncle again, she could see he was having the same problem. “Not if you don’t want to, darling. All you have to do is whisper to me.” She turned her head to the side, her eyes on Haymitch’s as his nephew leaned in to whisper his most wanted presents in her ear. The way he was staring at her made her heart skip, and she had to ask Peeta to repeat his last item to make sure she got it all correct.
“You promise you’ll tell Santa?”
Effie smiled and straightened, brushing her hands down the front of her outfit. “I’ll do it right now.”
She walked over to the main desk and picked up her phone, opening a new text message and typing out what the boy had just told her. To make it look more real, she entered SANTA at the top in the recipient list. Of course there was no such contact in her phone, but the child didn’t need to know that.
“See?” she said, bending down to show him the phone.
Peeta eyed the screen and a wide grin spread over his face, much to his uncle relief. She had turned away to show his nephew the message she was pretending to send to Santa, but he could read the screen quite clearly over her shoulder. Luckily, he knew his nephew would have asked for a recipes book and for a small building kitchen that children usually used to faking cook. He had only to go out, bought them and then wrapped and hid on the top shelf in his walk-in closet. He thought he must be beaming from ear to ear. Effie Trinket was an absolute treasure.
“Thank you, Miss Effie!” Peeta exclaimed, throwing his arms around Effie’s neck.
She laughed and hugged him back. “You are so welcome. I’m glad I could help. And I see that you are a gentleman, fortunately you aren't like your uncle.”
Her eyes found Haymitch’s again as she said his name. She had turned around and her eyes were sparkling.
Haymitch scoffed but he didn't say anything.
An idea popped into her head. “Sweetheart, Why don’t you go grab some candy out of the bowl? I think there’s some peanut butter cups left...”
Peeta gave a cheer and ran across the room to the refreshment table to dig through the candy bowl.
“Speaking of phone numbers...” she said as she turned to the man and held out her phone.
The message to “Santa” was still open on the screen, the cursor blinking next to it. It took him a moment, but he finally reached out and took it from her, and entered his personal number.
He wasn't sure he'd had done the right thing. Giving her his phone number. He found her annoying and crazy. Who cared that she was one of the sexiest teacher he had ever known? Who cared that he loved her smile and how she behaved with children? Who cared that she had a masterpiece as an ass? Certainly not him... Well, he might had a crush on her but it was only that.
He handed the phone back, while thinking at all of those thing. A few seconds later, his cell beeped in his pocket. Effie waited as he pulled it out to see a message from her number. Up popped the list of Peeta’s gifts.
He grinned. “Very clever, Princess.”
Effie’s head dipped and she smiled. “Why, thank you.”
"No, really you have just saved me, Princess." He added.
She gave him a soft smile and then she spoke again. "So now the princess had just saved her prince?" She asked with a strange glint in her eyes.
Her words left him unprepared and he found himself without a quick remark.
He touched nervously his hair. "I'm not... We are not.. well not that I don't find you hot.. but you are my nephew's teacher.." He bubbled.
She started to laugh at his attempt to say something comprehensive. "It was just a joke, you have to relax," she brushed her hand with his. "Prince" she added with an amusing smile on her lips.
He shook his head while Peeta hurried back to his side, the pockets of his coat stuffed with candy. Haymitch rolled his eyes.
"Umh, we need to head home and - bake - a batch of cookies for tomorrow.”
She gave Haymitch a sympathetic look. “Goodnight, Mr. Abernathy. And goodnight, Peeta!”
“Night, Miss Belle!” The boy hollered back, already halfway out the door.
“Goodnight, and thank you.” He sighed and inclined his head, not looking forward to spending the night in the kitchen, covered in flour.
“If you need help,” Effie called out, and Haymitch stopped with the door open. She help up her phone and wiggled it back and forth. “You know how to reach me.”
She winked at him, and his eyebrows lifted. “Indeed I do, Sweetheart.”
*
Effie was standing in her small kitchen, toying with the string of a tea bag while it seeped, when her phone buzzed. She picked up and tapped the screen.
I'm bored, sweetheart. You know how to help me? Haymitch.
She smiled fondly at his inappropriate message.
1 note
·
View note
Note
Would you guys sort all of the hunger games characters (all three books) pretty please?
We would love to, I hope you enjoy! -Abigail
The Hunger Games
Katniss Everdeen: Gryffindor
Where most people would sort Katniss into Slytherin, We feel that is not where she belongs,she has to be Gryffindor. The amount of bravery she shows throughout the three books is amazing, it all starts out with her volunteering for her sister, you always see the little description for what each house would do in a emergency, and it says Gryffindor would die for you, whereas Slytherin is kill for you, and when Katniss volunteers she does not believe she’s coming home, she just knows she could make it farther than her sister, and that’s why she believes she has to volunteer. So she has to be Gryffindor!
Peeta Mellark: Hufflepuff
This guy is literally the epitome of kindness and love. He gives to people without even knowing them, and is willing to take a beating for it. He has too much love for people, he literally runs when Katniss calls for him, he always cares about her well being. As well he is extremely loyal, to Katniss and Haymitch, enough to risk his life multiple times. So he has to be Hufflepuff!
Primrose Everdeen: Hufflepuff
For Prim, we had some troubles choosing between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, but honestly it shouldn’t have even been questionable, she learns to heal to help people, and helps people the entire time, and does everything she can to give her sister strength throughout this huge thing, and she’s even quoted recognizing that everything is changing and uses that to push her sister. So she has to be a Hufflepuff!
Gale Hawthorne: Slytherin
This guy is incredibly amitious , he tries to make this whole plan of Katniss coming home and falling back in love with him, even though it could get her killed. He is also very loyal, always making sure to take care of Katniss’s family while shes gone. So he has to be Slytherin!
Effie Trinket: Hufflepuff
Effie is extremely kind, though she doesn’t always carry the right type sensitivity to Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch about the games, but when she begins to understand the sheer amount of terrible things they go through in the games, and the thought of them having to do it again, makes her so sad. She is so loving and loyal to them. So has to be Hufflepuff!
Haymitch Abernathy: Slytherin
This guy is EXTREMELY ambitious, and cunning. As well he is loyal, incredibly loyal to Katniss. So he has to be a Slytherin!
Cinna: Ravenclaw
Cinna is incredibly intelligent, he thinks of these brilliant ideas. When it’s his final creation that he will get to see played out, he knows that he will be killed for his actions. He is incredibly wise and supportive of Katniss, making him a Ravenclaw!
Seneca Crane: Slytherin
Ambitious and cunning. Nuff said Slytherin!
President Snow: Slytherin
This terrible man is incredibly ambitous and will do anything he needs to do to get what he wants. He’s incredibly self-perseving as well. So has to be Slytherin!
Cato: Gryffindor
This guy is incredibly brave, he knows his duty and is ready to fulfill it. Has to be Gryffindor!
Clove: Slytherin
This girl is crazy ambitious, she wants to surivive these games, and she will do anything to do it. She has to be Slytherin!
Foxface: Ravenclaw
She is incredibly intelligent, she is able to stay invisible for a large part of the games by being very creative. She uses her knowledge about the different poisonous things to help her as well. Thus Foxface is a Ravenclaw!
Thresh: Gryffindor
This guy is incredibly brave, and very protective over those he loves. Has to be Gryffindor!
Rue: Hufflepuff
Rue is the adorable little sister I’ve never had. She is incredibly kind and loyal to Katniss without even knowing her. So her has to be a Hufflepuff!
Caesar Flickerman: Hufflepuff
This guy is incredibly kind to all the tributes he meets, but he believes the games are a good thing that have to happen, and I blame that on the corruption of the Capitol, but regardless Hufflepuff!
Catching Fire
Finnick Odair: Hufflepuff
I really really, don’t think I should need to explain this one but, he is extremely kind and loyal to the promises he’s made, enough to save Peeta’s life and almost get himself killed.. multiple times. So he has to be a Hufflepuff!
Mags: Hufflepuff
I really don’t think I should have to explain this. She GAVE UP HER LIFE TO MAKE SURE FINNICK, PEETA AND KATNISS SURVIED. Nuff sad, Hufflepuff!
Johanna Mason: Ravenclaw
Since Johanna is a character that is ultimately sorted all over the different houses, Slytherin, Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw (never Hufflepuff lol) So I thought it might be a good idea to add some quotes to prove my point. But we chose Ravenclaw, one as described in the first quote, she got through her first games by being very creative and intelligent. As well as that, when she does her interview, as well as everyone else she pushes the connections between the victors and the Capitol, knowing she could possibly put the game makers in a corner. Then she always goes back and tracks her steps making sure to think logically and always have a level head, making sure they do whats best to keep everyone else. Bring me back to the post mentioned in Katniss’s sorting where Ravenclaw description is “think of plan to keep everyone alive” which she tries to do over and over again (third quote). So Johanna has to be a Ravenclaw!
“She won by very convincingly portraying herself as weak and helpless so that she would be ignored. The she demonstrated her wicked ability to murder” (Catching Fire 214)
“By there time Johanna Mason gets up, she’s asking if something can’t be done about the situation. Surely the creators of the Quarter Quell never anticipated such love forming between the victors and the Capitol. No one could be so cruel as to sever such a deep bond” (Catching Fire 251)
“It doesn’t matter, you had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless “ Ironically, her logical, if demeaning reply is the only one the comforts me” (Catching Fire 336)
Beetee Latier: Ravenclaw
Incredibly intelligent and creative, has to be Ravenclaw!
Wiress: Ravenclaw
A little odd, but incredibly smart, has to be Ravenclaw!
Plutarch Heavensbee: Slytherin
This guy is incredibly ambitious and cunning, he took the job as head gamemnaker and masterminded this huge plan to make Katniss the Mockingjay so has to be Slytherin!
Mockingjay
Annie Cresta: Hufflepuff
I think it’s a district 4 thing, but she is incredibly kind and loyal. Has to be Hufflepuff!
President Coin: Slytherin
This girl is incredibly cunning, she uses all the publicity about the Mockingjay to gain popularity about herself running for president. Very ambitious and self-preserving as well. Has to be Slytherin!
Boggs: Gryffindor
Boggs is so brave, the fact that he holds the tracker and looks around trying to make sure there are no bombs, ending up in his own demise, making me sure the he is a Gryffindor!
Cressida: Ravenclaw
This girl is incredibly intelligent, she knows what she needs to do to keep Katniss alive and she does just that. She ends up saving all of there lives by knowing this huge world of people. So she has to be Ravenclaw!
We hope you enjoy!
-Mods Abigail and Jinx
#ask#anon#the houses four#slytherin pride#gryffindor pride#ravenclaw pride#hufflepuff pride#the hunger games#ask the mods#the mods sort#abigail speaks#jinxy speaks
39 notes
·
View notes
Note
For the meme: Hunger Games?
my all-time ultimate fave character: Katniss and Finnick. Like, I have a lot of them who I love, but Katniss and Finnick are tied for my number one spot.
a character I didn’t used to like but now do: Mrs. Everdeen took a while to grow on me, but by the end of Mockingjay, she really had.
a character I used to like but now don’t: tbh, it’s not that I used to like Peeta and now don’t, because I never really liked him and I still wouldn’t say that I dislike him, personally
—but there’s a lot about Peeta, especially with regard to his and Katniss’s relationship, that I find troublesome for various reasons (e.g., the way that Katniss, who is definitely canonically dark-skinned and is written against a backdrop that’s blatantly inspired by the racialized dimensions of classism and poverty, is always contextualized as Not Really Deserving the blonde white boy, who is regularly written in terms that are super not subtle about comparing him to Jesus)
To say nothing of how the text itself seems to agree with this idea, and does shit like go, “Wow, Peeta is oppressed by the Capitol too, like damn Katniss how much of a bitch are you, I mean your family and Gale’s only haven’t very literally starved to death because you and Gale know how to hunt, but wow, damn, Peeta had to help make the goat cheese and apple tarts and he wasn’t allowed to eat them because they were too expensive, that’s totally the same thing as people in the Seam literally starving to death”
Like, I’m not saying that Peeta and his family weren’t oppressed by the Capitol, because they were…… but it’s explicitly established in-text that the Capitol manufactures gradations as part of how they try to keep the Districts all fighting each other instead of fighting them, so yes, Peeta and his family did not experience the same thing as Gale, Katniss, and theirs, and part of that difference was how the Mellarks didn’t need to worry about getting enough to eat, they just couldn’t eat the expensive treats
The thing that bugs me the most, though, is the way that Peeta has supposedly been in love with Katniss since they were kids — except……… how? How can you say that he has truly been in love with Katniss when he, by his own goddamn admission, knew basically nothing about her and never even tried to get to know her for real? I’d buy that he was in love with his ludicrous headcanons about Katniss, but that’s not the same as being in love with Katniss Everdeen: Actual Person
And sorry not sorry, Peeta, but it is NOT true that you, “couldn’t talk to her”; you COULD have talked to Katniss and you chose not to talk to Katniss or deal with her at all in any context where you didn’t have the power of life and death over her (whether it was because she was literally dying of starvation, or because she needed you to make her look sympathetic to viewers in the 74th Games, and you needed her to literally and immediately keep you alive)
……Also, his version of how he fell in love with her has way too much in common with Dante Alighieri’s account of how he first fell in love with Beatrice Portinari for me to be truly okay with it, because Dante is one of the Western Literary Canon’s biggest examples of entitled dudebros who objectify women even while they claim to adore them (because over-idealizing someone is a form of dehumanizing them).
This said, I still don’t dislike Peeta. I just don’t think he’s that great, or that he’s as pure and innocent and cinnamon roll-ish as the books and fandom all make him out to be. Even without my misgivings about Ever*lark, ffs, he is one of the sneakiest, most manipulative characters in the series, and his BS sense of entitlement doesn’t only come out with Katniss
a character I’m indifferent about: Presidents Coin and Snow are both well-executed villains, but I don’t have a lot of feelings about them, personally. They were actually helped by the movies, for me, because Donald Sutherland and Julianne Moore were both really good in their roles, and it made me like them a little more, even if it still didn’t make me have feelings about them or anything
a character who deserved better: Most of them, tbh, but my top six are (in no particular order) Johanna, Madge, Rue, Annie, Finnick, and Gale
a ship I’ve never been able to get into: Katniss/Peeta, see above
But also? Gale/Madge. In my experience, the whole thing only exists so people can have some kind of “uptown girl” fantasy and go, “Look, see, I don’t hate Gale!!! Stop saying that I hate Gale!!! Just let me shove him off to the side and completely mischaracterize the shit out of him and pair him up with Madge for no reason beyond getting him out of the way so I can have Katniss/Peeta!!!!”
Also, Madge Undersee is a lesbian. #sorrynotsorry
Even worse: Effie/Haymitch. For one thing, both of them are gay. I don’t know what books everybody else is reading, but in MY copies of the books, Effie and Haymitch are both gay as fuck, why would you pair up a gay man and a lesbian like that unless it’s like, a situation where Effie and Haymitch get married so no one knows that they’re actually married to Portia and Cinna, respectively
But aside from that (because it’s admittedly a matter of my own headcanons even though I refuse to back down from them), I just??? Effie/Haymitch is just so blatantly a bunch of straight nonsense, pairing the two of them up because he’s a man and she’s a woman and therefore any time they exchange more than two words, it’s ~flirting~ even when Effie has HAPPILY AND ENERGETICALLY been a part of the system that treats all the kids Haymitch as mentored as if their lives mean nothing, and she’s been helping shepherd them to their deaths without getting that this is not good until it affects Katniss and Peeta (which only makes Effie get it because she likes them), and as much as Haymitch’s distaste for Effie is understandable, a lot of his lashing out at her isn’t actually coming from a place of, “I object to you for these fair reasons” so much as it’s coming from a place of Haymitch being a troll for the sake of being a troll, and I just
Why
Why is this ship a THING
Why is it so fucking POPULAR
I only understand this phenomenon in the most cynical way possible (i.e., the way where my explanation for it is, “they are so popular because it’s an M/F ship and, in the movies, both of them are white, even though Haymitch has dark skin and black hair, and the same racialized poverty-coded background as Gale and Katniss, in the books”)
Also, both of them are gay, sooooooo……… #sorrynotsorry
a ship I’ve never been able to get over: Katniss/Johanna, Katniss/Madge, Katniss/Finnick, Annie/Finnick
a cute, low-key ship: Annie/Johanna, and in some AU where Rue and Prim both get to grow up, I think they’d be cute together.
Also, Gale/Peeta. I’m just saying, it’s a perfect solution to the issue of the alleged love triangle because it means neither of them ends up without a ship, but Katniss doesn’t have to be with either of them.
an unpopular ship but I still enjoyed it: dude, my only M/F “ship that deserves to be called an OTP” for Katniss is called a crack ship by most of the fandom, even though she and Finnick have better-written relationship development than Katniss/Peeta and even though Finnick consistently respects Katniss Everdeen: Actual Facts Person and not some shiny pretty pretty princess headcanon about her
Sure, he may not want to be her friend, at first, because he assumes, like she does, that friends are not A Thing that’s going to happen, and if he maybe feels like he has been tasked with babysitting her and Peeta during the Quarter Quell, then… that’s not actually inaccurate, because he was kinda tasked with babysitting them by the other rebels.
Like, helping the two of them to survive and getting them out of the arena was the job that Finnick and Mags were given by the other rebels, and he had to be more hands-on about it than, say, Johanna, since Katniss wanted to have an alliance with Mags, which meant she had to have one with Finnick
So, no. The two of them aren’t exactly cozying up to each other in Catching Fire, because both of them are playing certain parts and performing certain versions of themselves based on a lot of assumptions about How The Fuck This Shit Works and a lot of assumptions about their roles and positions in everything (which admittedly end up being less than accurate… because both of them have been manipulated and lied to by everybody who’s pulling the strings)
Anyway, I shouldn’t go on about this too much more because it will make me get defensive and angry, but Finnick and Katniss are my autistic children and they are not a goddamn crack ship and if I had money, I would pay people to stop saying that so I could look at their tags and only see people tagging everything with them as “BROTP,” as opposed to that plus people calling them a crack ship
Also: Finnick/Gale, Cinna/Haymitch, Annie/Katniss
Also, I didn’t really LIKE Gale/Katniss, but it made me feel more things than Katniss/Peeta (even if I have more thoughts on that one, that’s the thing: they’re thoughts, not Feels; the only thing that I ever really feel about Katniss/Peeta is frustrated), and the whole, “Katniss is all but explicitly suicidal and that’s why she wants to mack on Gale” thing from Mockingjay totally does it for a lot of my angsty catharsis interests
a ship that was totally wrong and never should have happened: Effie/Haymitch. I went, “EEEUGH” out loud when they kissed, when I say MJ2 in the theatre, and I didn’t feel bad about it because: 1. all of the people who loved them collectively when, “AWWWWW”; and 2. eww, can you say, “what the fuck is this hetero pandering bullshit”
my favourite storyline/moment: The entire, “I drag myself out of nightmares and find there’s no relief in waking. Better not to give into it” scene, because I’m a human cliché and Katniss and Finnick are my autistic children. Also, any and every Joniss scene, because I’m garbage and a human cliché and I just want them to be together, is that so bad
a storyline that never should have been written: idk about anyone else, but I personally choose to live in a world where the series-long alleged “love triangle” was between Katniss/Madge and Johanna/Katniss, and the Katniss/Peeta stuff was only ever during the Games and not actually for real, and Gale and Peeta can go do each other or something, because fuck forced hetero love triangles, that’s why
Also? I’m willing to accept that Prim’s death was legitimately necessary for the plot and the narrative, in the same way that I hate Sirius Black’s death but accept that it was necessary for the sake of the story that JKR wanted to tell, so I can just go, “I see your point and I don’t begrudge you this in canon, but I am going to headcanon around it anyway because I don’t like it”
—but there was ABSOLUTELY NO REASON to kill Finnick. See, much like JKR’s senseless murders of Remus and Tonks in DH, Finnick’s death did nothing to make a point that hadn’t already been made multiple times over, and it added nothing to the story. Yea, like JKR before her, SCollins only killed Finnick for the sake of cheap shock value and reaffirming certain ideas about heroism that the rest of the series tried to deconstruct
It was pointless, it was senseless, it wasn’t necessary, and the story, characters, and readers all deserved better than that
Finnick Odair is happy and fine and he’s definitely alive, because all that unadulterated bullshit, “lmao finnick dies” crap never happened
my first thoughts on the series: uh. The first time I tried to read the books, I didn’t even get to the games themselves, because SCollins introduced Madge, introduced the backstory of her and Katniss being like kinda friends but kinda not but they’re not sure, and I was like, “ugh, why. I already know you’re going to make me suffer this bullshit between the two boys, but why would you hand me a totally valid and much more interesting F/F option. Why” and on the other hand, because Katniss reminded me too much of myself at a point when I wasn’t ready to deal with that
my thoughts now: We all deserved better, but I say that all the time about the HP series, too, so me feeling like the series was kind of a let down in various places and criticizing different aspects of it? Isn’t going to stop me from enjoying it
Also, Finnick is fine, Madge is fine, Effie and Haymitch are gay, Gale is bi, and most of my favorite characters are autistic because I said so, that’s why (—I mean, I actually have cases based on canon evidence for Finnick and Katniss, but my real rationale here is, “I want them to be autistic, so they are now, okay peace bye”)
#builttobalance#memes for ts#ask box tag#mine: memes#opinions for ts#criticism for ts#ship disliking for ts#the hunger games#mine: thg
14 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey, i read your one shot « two kids » from the Writer’s Block and I really like it ! And it would be so great to read more of this verse (if you want and if you have time, of course)Happy New Year to you and your cute family !
Hello anon! Happy 2020! Hope it’s been great so far!
Ask and you shall receive...
Happy reading!
________
Summary: A follow-up to “Two Kids”. Katniss didn’t realize that it would happen so fast. Now, she just has to tell Peeta. Post-Mockingjay. Everlark with a smattering of Hayhanna.
“Two hearts, new start, every card is wild
There in your arms, with the radio up and the windows down
Loose hands, slow dance under crooked stars
We were clumsy at love
It was a shaky two-step in a parking lot…”
-Laura Gibson
Two Hearts, New Start
Six Weeks Later…
“This can’t be…”
I look over what is known to everyone—except for Jack, of course—as the ‘baby calendar’. My ovulation dates are carefully highlighted with my peak day circled as well as my expected date of menstruation. The idea was my mother’s after I approached her with the thought of having another child.
One morning, in-between feeding Jack, and making sure that the water was boiling for tea, Haymitch walked into our kitchen, tossed the calendar on our counter and walked out. Not that he would ever admit it, but the arrival of another Everdeen-Mellark offspring would be a welcomed event since he adores Jack.
My shock comes from the dates from the previous week; Peeta and my ‘attempts’ at conceiving. We try to keep it relaxed when it comes to all of this, but we’ve been so busy that our times together are usually quick and dirty—Johanna’s words, not mine.
In the woods…at the lake…on our back porch…Peeta’s back is probably killing him.
I understand that we’ve had sex frequently, but this is definitely off.
Am I pregnant already?
“No, it’s too soon.”
“Too soon for what?”
I jumped out of my skin, turning to find Johanna in the doorway. Jack, seeing her, flings the toast in his hand where it smacks into the cupboard right next to me.
“You scared me,” I tell her. “Look at this.”
Johanna goes to the calendar and examines it before turning back. “So, you have your rag?”
“I’m going to assume that means my period.” I shake my head. “Not today.”
“So Peeta has gone and put another baby in you.” Johanna grins. “Isn’t that what this whole thing was about?”
“But it doesn’t add up.” I go to the toaster and retrieve another piece for Jack. “I thought my period already happened—that’s why the sex happened last week.” I butter the toast and hand it to my son. “It wasn’t much and didn’t last for very long, but it was the same way last month—”
“You really are brainless.” Johanna peels the toast splattered on my cupboard and examines it before taking a bite. “Call your mother.”
++++++
“It’s called implantation bleeding,” my mother explains over the phone. “Or, at least that’s what it sounds like. Do you have any other symptoms?”
“The first time this happened is implantation bleeding?” I sink down in my seat as I try to add it all up. “And, was the second time—”
I feel my eyes watering at the thought.
“Have you felt any cramping?”
“No, just the bit of bleeding.”
“Then I don’t think that it’s serious. Women often spot while they’re pregnant,” my mother replies and I breathe out a sigh of relief. “But there is something else we should talk about.”
“What?”
“Katniss, if what you’re telling me is all correct, you are a little over eight weeks pregnant,” she tells me.
“No, we just started trying,” I argue.
“Wow, you’re slow.”
I jump and turn to find Haymitch at the doorway with Jack in his arms. I left him with his godfather and Johanna so I could discuss what was happening without someone throwing toast at me. He smirks as he sits Jack down in his highchair before pulling out a chair to sit.
“Mom, I’ll call you later,” I tell her.
“I’m sending you something,” she tells me quickly. “It might help assure you.”
“Assure me?”
“Bye Katniss.”
I hang up the phone and look to Haymitch. “What are you on about?”
“Has it ever occurred to you that you were pregnant before you even started trying?” he barks at me.
Damn.
I feel dizzy and sit down. “We weren’t even trying…”
Haymitch quickly goes to the cupboard, grabs a cup, and reaches for the pitcher on the table to pour a glass of water. He hands it to me then sits in the adjacent chair.
“You had that same glazed look when you were pregnant with Jack,” he informs me. “And, you didn’t try with him either.”
I would glare at him except the nausea hits me.
So instead, I vomit on his shoes.
++++++
“My God, it reeks in here!”
I glare from my spot in front of the toilet. “Go away…” My stomach turns again, and I retch.
It was never like this with Jack; this child is going to be a terror.
Instead of listening to me, Johanna joins me on the floor. “You really did a number on Haymitch’s shoes.” She gives me an easy grin. “He’s out in our yard setting them on fire.”
“So, it’s our yard, now?” I question.
Now it’s her turn to squirm. “What are you implying?”
“You’re having sex with Haymitch.” Her jaw drops just slightly at my directness. “I’m throwing up my innards; I have no time for subtleties.” Sitting back, I press my face to the cool tiling of the room. “My only question is whether it’s fucking or more than fucking.”
“Whoa, that’s one dirty statement,” she retorts. “You kiss Peeta with that mouth?”
“Yes and more.” I look to her. “Is it serious?”
Johanna fidgets. “Haymitch hasn’t exactly kicked me out.” She closes the door, leaning back against it. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s happening.”
“You should probably figure it out.” I flush the toilet before closing the lid. “He may seem very rough, but Haymitch can get hurt just like the rest of us.”
“Well, so could I,” Johanna counters softly. “How are you going to tell Peeta?”
“Oh yeah…” I close my eyes tiredly. “I forgot about telling him.”
Johanna chuckles. “How about not throwing up on him?”
“Probably the best course of action.”
She moves towards me.
“Why don’t you tell him tonight? Wear a nice dress…have an intimate dinner…strip him down—and then tell him mid-ride?”
“There’s the Johanna I know and love,” I respond. “That sounds good, even the mid-ride part.”
Johanna helps me up and I wash my hands and face as she re-braids my hair. I’m beginning to feel normal again and then turn to her.
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here,” I tell her.
And, for some reason, I give her a hug—this baby is making me all sorts of crazy.
“Gross. Your breath smells.”
And, we’re back to square one.
++++++
“It smells great in here!”
Peeta comes into the kitchen just as I pull out the roast from the oven. I never really go this fancy so I’m hoping that he gets that this is a special occasion.
I am wrong.
“It’s been crazy at the bakery,” he says as I place the roast on the table and then sit next to him. “I’m trying to figure out how to negotiate with the new suppliers because they’ve raised the price. Not sure how my Dad did it or whether it was my mom that negotiated…it seems like a job that she would be better at.”
Peeta gaves me a sad smile.
“Just add it to the many things to deal with when your parents are gone…my mother would have never bothered to teach me anyway. I think she may have even been surprised that I managed to open the place back up.”
Even though Mr. and Mrs. Mellark are gone, they still haunt Peeta in these small sometimes biting ways.
This is definitely not the right time; not when he is brooding over his parents and possibly worried about not living up to their expectations.
I place my hand over his.
“We can figure it out together,” I assure him.
Peeta nods, giving me that sweet smile that Jack sports whenever he gets the right piece of toast.
“Thanks—” He looks at the spread of food besides the roast; roasted potatoes and carrots that I spent hours peeling. Then, he looks at me in my knee-length green dress that displays my more positive attributes—according to Johanna. “—this is all nice. Did I forget an anniversary or something?”
I shake my head. “No. Johanna and Haymitch wanted to take Jack off our hands and we have some alone time…”
He nods slowly before standing and holding out his hand. “Let’s go.”
I take his hand. “Where?”
“Upstairs.” His hand lingers along the zipper on the back of my dress. “I need to appreciate this dress more—and aren’t we trying for another baby?”
It’s at the tip of my tongue to tell him that there is no need to try anymore.
Then, Peeta looks at me in that way that makes his bright blues darken into the blue of a midnight sea; that same blue when he kissed me in Quarter Quell and that familiar hunger draws up from my belly.
So, I let him take my upstairs.
++++++
“So, you didn’t tell him?”
Johanna sits on our porch steps as I sit on the adjoining bench, Jack in my lap.
“I was going to,” I start. “Then, he started talking about the bakery and how his parents would’ve known what to do…when either of us gets in a mood, it’s better to not throw big life changes into the mix.”
“So, you just didn’t go through with the plan,” Johanna states bluntly. She pokes Jack in the stomach, and he laughs. “Looks like your Momma is being a big ol’ chicken.”
My son tilts his head, his large eyes gazing on his playmate. “Chik’n?”
“Yup…you know…bok…bok…bok!” She bobs her head at him as if she has a beak and Jack bursts into giggles. “Come on Jack! Pretend to be Mommy Chicken!” Jack, so excited to play, immediately slips off my lap to follow her head movements. Then they stand up and circle the porch with their arms flapping like pretend wings.
It’s so strange to watch Johanna so carefree, as if neither of us had to fight for our lives in an arena.
However, we did.
Part of me is still a little afraid that I’ll wake up back in an arena…or in District 13…or on Reaping Day.
Part of me is still afraid that all of this isn’t real.
In times like these, I remember small things, like the way that Jack gives me kisses—sloppy but full of love. Or his strong kicks when he was inside me, or even that first turn of my stomach realizing that this new baby was inside me.
“Special delivery.” I look up from my seat to find Haymitch standing in front of me, a worried expression on his lined face. He holds out a medium-sized box wrapped in brown paper. “You okay?”
I nod quickly. “Yeah, just doing a lot of thinking.”
The box is from my mother and I remember her saying that she would be sending something over. Ripping the paper, a note from my mother is taped to my present:
Katniss—
Normal fetal heartrate is 120 to 160 beats per minute.
Call me with questions.
Mom
I look at the box displaying a handheld device with a probe connected to it.
“It’s a fetal monitor,” Johanna tells us. We look to her in surprise and she has the good grace to blush. “When Annie thought she was pregnant with Dylan, I went with her to see a doctor in the medical facility in 13. They used one of these things on her.”
“Care to explain how this works?” Haymitch asks her, his gaze soft.
It’s still strange to see Haymitch affectionate in these small but meaningful ways. Peeta and I were so used to our taciturn—and often inebriated—mentor that watching him with Jack still surprises me at times.
I’m not even sure that he notices that he looks at Johanna that way.
“Katniss, lay down on the porch,” Johanna tells me.
I raise a brow at her. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to show you how to use the thing,” she replies. “Now, be a good girl and lay down.”
With a huff, I do as she says, laying on my back. Jack follows, laying next to me and I take his hand.
“Are you excited to be a big brother?” I ask him.
Jack scrunches his nose. “Brudder?”
“Yes, Jack,” Haymitch says. He sits on the porch bench. “Your Momma has a baby in her belly.”
“Here.” Johanna hands me the small monitor. “Just tell me if you can—”
I sit up. “Stop.”
Johanna puts her hand on my shoulder, quickly looking me over. “Is something wrong?”
I shake my head. “It’s just…someone else needs to hear this first.”
++++++
“You wanted to see me?”
Peeta sits next to me on the blanket. The wide field behind the fence stands before us, the orange of the sunset soaking us in its last bits of warmth.
“I have to tell you something,” I say. “But first—close your eyes.”
“You’ve been acting strange,” Peeta remarks. I glare and he raises his hands in surrender. “Okay! Closing my eyes…”
I hope I get this right; I spent half an hour on the phone with Mom to make sure.
Reaching for my knapsack, I take the fetal monitor out and spread the gel that it came with.
Laying back, I place the probe on my abdomen and begin to look…
“What’s that sound?” Peeta asks, eyes still closed.
“Just wait…”
Where are you, little du—
Then right at the very bottom of my abdomen, I find it—that sound of galloping that my mother described.
I find her.
“Open your eyes,” I tell Peeta.
He does and I watch him process the sight before him; me on my back with a probe on my belly and the strong beat echoing through the monitor.
“You’re…you’re—” Peeta can hardly speak, his voice thickening and his eyes filling. “Oh God, Katniss!” He presses his mouth to mine and as he pulls away, his hand reaches to my cheek. “You’re incredible.”
“I didn’t make her myself, you know,” I reply with a grin.
He smiles at me; that lovely lopsided smile that makes my stomach flip and I swear the baby flips too.
She already loves him.
I don’t blame her.
We stay listening to her gallop until the stars come out.
++++++
“I think that they’re celebrating.”
Haymitch sits on our front porch steps, Jack in his arms.
“Hope they don’t celebrate too hard,” I retort. “There’s a baby inside her.”
He laughs, that deep laugh that hits my core and I feel dizzy.
Actually, I’ve been dizzy lately, so maybe it’s not him.
“Are you okay?” he asks suddenly.
I join him, perching myself on the step below his. “I was just thinking…you’ve never asked me to leave.”
“Do you want to leave?”
The question is fraught with uncertainty.
I almost laugh; how could he be so uncertain while I’ve never been so certain in my life?
“No,” I say. “I don’t want to leave.”
“Good.” Haymitch presses a kiss to my temple. “Don’t ever leave.”
And, suddenly I’m dizzy again.
FIN.
#Everlark Fanfiction#Everlark#Follow Up#Two Kids#The Writer's Block One-Shots#Hayhanna#Post MJ#toastbabies
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
Happy Birthday, onewomanopinion!
Today, we wish @onewomanopinion a Happy Birthday! We hope you’re having a lovely day so far, and that it only gets better from here! To make your day extra special, the lovely @mega-aulover has written a story just for you!
For: @onewomanopinion
Prompt: Modern Au, Everlark and the toastbabies celebrate Halloween
A/N: Happy Birthday I hope your day is filled with happiness and joy. Enjoy a bit of homey Everlark family life!
Rated G, Un beta’d all mistakes are mine
Title: Stayween
------------------------
Katniss and Peeta stood by the door of the kitchen watching their kids gathered by the bay window sadly staring outside.
They were dressed as the Darling children from Peter Pan. Melody was dressed as Wendy, with a beautiful bow in her hair. Linus was dressed as Michael complete with top hat and umbrella. Charlie was dressed as John in an adorable onesie. He clutched his bear against his chest. Katniss refused to cut his blond curls, she only trimmed his hair and under duress.
Thunder rumbled through the darkened sky followed by a flash of lightning. The day began so lovely and bright but as it progressed it became overcast and darker. By the time the kids came home and dressed torrential rain began falling. Their plans for collecting treats had become one giant trick.
Peeta and Katniss shared a look. They were supposed to go out as a family, Peeta was supposed to be Mr. Smee and Katniss the crocodile. The lights flickered, it looked as if they were going to lose the electricity. The kids weren’t bothered by the thought of being plunged into darkness, they were hoping for a miracle. They hoped the rain would stop and for the clouds to miraculously dissipate. Unfortunately, none came, and they sat dejected watching it pour outside. This was quickly becoming a bad day.
"What are we going to do," Katniss whispered. “They were looking forward to going out with their friends.”
Peeta rubbed the back of his head.
Their kids huddled together watching the rainfall.
"Go get pillows," Peeta said, "I'll get blankets."
Katniss caught on, they were going to make a fort. "We’ll need flashlights and chocolate.”
“Chocolate?” Peeta questioned.
“We can make smores."
Peeta gave her a peck on the lips. "Great idea.”
Katniss and Peeta set out to gather the materials needed to make a blanket fort.
“What are you doing father?” Melody watched Peeta dump blankets on the sofa.
“We’re making a fort,” Peeta winked, “for stayween.”
“Stayween?”
“Staying inside to celebrate hollow…”
“...ween!” Her eyes became wide as saucers. “Can we help?” By now Linus and Charlie were paying attention.
“Sure, you can get lots of pillows, things to make our fort comfy.”
“Hooray,” Charlie jumped up and down.
Within twenty minutes they had erected a blanket fort on the floor of the living room in front of the fire. The lights had gone out but in their cozy den, they roasted marshmallows, dined on popcorn and fizzy water.
“Okay, time to raid the fridge,” Peeta said.
“For what daddy?” Linus asked standing to his full height.
“For whatever you can get, in two minutes or less. Without getting caught by the creepy crocodile.”
Katniss giggled as she pounced around outside of the fort, her shadow looking scarier in the fire-lit interior.
“I can do it I’m the fastest,” Melody said.
“You’ll each get a chance,” Peeta said, “but you can’t let the crocodile get you. You have two minutes to run to the fridge get whatever you can grab and run back here as quickly as you can.”
Normally, Katniss, wouldn’t be up for such shenanigans but tonight of all nights she needed to push her discomfort aside for her children. She hid behind a love seat. She watched her daughter dart from the tent toward the fridge. Getting up Katniss used the shadows to her advantage.
“Hurry sister, hurry!” Linus’ voice urged.
Katniss waited until her daughter turned around. “BOO!!!”
Melody screamed, causing her brothers to yell, Katniss could hear Peeta laughing. Melody quickly darted around her, and Katniss was incumbered by her tail as she spun around.
“Run, sister, run!” Linus called.
Charlie gleefully laughed as Katniss nearly tripped on her crocodile tail.
“HOORAY!” Peeta cheered as Melody came back.
Linus was up next and Katniss did her best to chase him around the living room giving him time to run into the tent. When it was Charlie’s turn, she allowed him to run to the fridge. It was no surprise Charlie went for the cheese. He was like his mother in that respect, they both had a deep love for all things cheesy.
With his prize possession in his arms, he ran back. He looked adorable in his onesie, his golden curls bouncing as he ran. Katniss couldn’t help herself she caught him and kissed his tummy much to his delight. His childish uncontrolled chortle filled the air. She proceeded to give him raspberries which only produced more laughter.
“MOMMY THAT WAS FUN!” Mellody and Linus shouted hugging Katniss as she crawled back into the tent.
With the pilfered goods from the fridge, they made fridge raid sandwiches. Katniss decided to keep her sandwich simple, adding cheese in between her slices of bread. Peeta, however, mixed peanut butter and bananas and added potato chips for the crunch.
Katniss told them about the story of how she had been treed by a bear while hiking in the forest, they screamed when she roared and thunder grumbled in the air. They played a round of campfire stories. Peeta began telling a wild tall tale, when his time was up he handed the flashlight to Melody. By the time the flashlight was handed to Katniss, all sorts of silliness had ensued including cosmic bodies of radioactive blue elephants that were saving the planet, Venus.
By the end of the night, they were snuggled up against the other. The kids were between them. Katniss watched Peeta as he pulled the blankets around their kids, before settling back into his spot. He gazed at her with a mixture of love, awe, and joy.
“Did I ever thank you for making me the happiest man on earth?”
Katniss hid her smile Peeta was always saying sweet poignant things to her. At the beginning of their relationship, she wasn’t used to such praise, in fact, she found it suspicious. However, as the years passed, she learned Peeta was sincere in his praise toward her. Taking his hand in hers she squeezed it, “I love you.”
Peeta grinned then his face turned serious. “Running around out there in your condition, wasn’t too much, was it?”
Katniss shifted her hand to fall on her gently rounded belly, “Nah these guys have to know what they are getting into with our family.”
“Happy stayween, Mrs. Mellark,” Peeta leaned across their children and kissed her on the lips.
Katniss sighed, this turned to be the best day ever.
#everlark#everlark fanfiction#everlarkbirthdaygifts#everlarkbirthdaydrabbles#fan fic#by mega-aulover
96 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
