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I Like Pears is a Good Omens cookbook fanzine with a focus on food, beverages, stories, art, and the recipes that accompany these works. This digital zine is free, but any donations collected before April 19th will be sent to World Central Kitchen!
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GOAD: A Week of WAMEN | Date TBA
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hey, i love your writing!!! i wanted to see you write something about k&p complimenting each other's looks. like, katniss still has it since peeta said she's not "particularly pretty" and he has to reassure that he thinks she is the most beautiful woman alive etc thanks S2
Ask and you shall receive (I don't know where this came from):
I pulled the sweater on, running my fingers over my head to tame the static flyway's. I felt the distinct pressure of attention on the back of my skull, and with a smirk, I glanced over my shoulder.
"You're being such a creep right now."
"Am I?" Peeta replied from the other side of the closet. He didn't even pretend not to be staring at me. He just smiled shamelessly, standing there in his socks, boxers, and nightshirt, watching me as if he didn't see me every day. "You just look really pretty."
I rolled my eyes and walked over to the full-length mirror. "Okay," I said, braiding my hair with practiced ease. "If you say so."
"I do say so," he replied amusedly, going about the business of getting dressed for the day. I rolled my eyes, forgetting about the conversation as I assembled my list of tasks for the day. With my braid tied off, I started digging around the closet for my bag. I'd need something to carry the shopping back home with.
"Why do you always do that though?" Peeta asked, but my mind wasn't present, so he had to speak up again. "Katniss? Did you hear me?"
"Hm?" Aha, there it was. Why did I always have to throw it on the floor? "Did you say something?"
"I just asked you why you always roll your eyes when I say you look nice."
"I didn't roll my eyes," I refuted, wondering if we were going to end up having an argument over something.
"You know what I mean, you just always blow it off." he clarified, coming around to my side so he could smile in my direction. Okay not an argument then? "You look nice."
"Thanks," I said with a reluctant tone, rolling my eyes.
"See!" Peeta pointed at me. "Why do you do that?"
I gave him an unimpressed look. "Seriously? Can we just go?"
"Yeah, I guess." He shrugged; sounding put out.
I sighed, "are you mad at me?"
"What? No," Peeta laughed. "Why would I be mad?"
"Then why are you trying to have a fight?" I was exasperated. "It's like you're looking for something to be mad about."
"I'm not mad!" Peeta insisted with another laugh, he looked very confused. "I was just asking."
I crossed my arms, "You're being serious?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Oh," I looked down sheepishly, feeling my cheeks warm with an embarrassed flush. "I don't know."
Peeta shook his head, he looked bewildered. "This is silly, let's just go."
"I just-- I don't know, I guess I don't buy it is all." I admitted with a shrug, turning towards the exit with embarrassment. Peeta stared at me with an eyebrow raised.
"What?"
"You asked!" I tugged at the hem of my sweater. I felt twitchy and weird, like a fish out of water. "Stop looking at me like that!"
"I'm looking at you because you're not making sense," He ducked down to make an incredulous face at me. "Why are you hiding right now?"
"Ugh," I scoffed, pushing him away. "I'm leaving."
"Wait! I'm supposed to be driving you!"
"I'll just walk." I sneered over my shoulder. Well, we were arguing now. I strode across our bedroom and out onto the staircase, Peeta hot on my heels.
"So, what you're saying is that someway, somehow, you, Katniss Everdeen, the prettiest girl to ever come out of District Twelve, think you're not extremely hot?"
I shot him a look over my shoulder, not even bothering to acknowledge that insane statement. I headed for the foyer.
"If you're coming with me, I'm going to need you to shut up."
"One, hurtful." Peeta commented flippantly, lowering my hand when I gave him the finger. "Secondly, I'm just being honest."
I made a face and turned away to pull on my coat, "sure you are."
"Why would I lie?" Peeta asked as he shut the door behind us.
"Hey guys!" Peeta and I waved in reply to our next door neighbor. "I borrowed the wheelbarrow, if you don't mind?"
"That's fine!" I called back, Peeta flashed a thumbs up. I hopped down the stairs and went to yank on the door to Peeta's truck.
"Ah, ah, ah, I have the keys." Peeta waved them above my head. I tried to snatch them, but he just raised his arm higher. "Tell me why you're pissed all of a sudden."
"I'm not the one that's mad!" I insisted.
"And yet you're yelling at me, yikes." Peeta snickered, his free hand palm out to fend me off when I smacked him. "Okay, okay, you're not mad."
"I'm not." I agreed sullenly, crossing my arms. I sighed, realizing he really wasn't going to let it go. "Fine, if you want to know that badly, I know I'm not particularly pretty, or nice, or tall because someone told me."
"Why does that sound so familiar?" Peeta frowned, the realization slowly dawning on him. "Oh, oh no Katniss."
"Yeah ."
"You're being unfair," He frowned at me, going around me to put his key in the door. "You know that," he said, sliding into the drivers side.
I was taken aback, "so you're not going to apologize?"
Peeta leaned an elbow against the open window, "are you actually mad about that or are you using it as an excuse? Because if you really hadn't forgiven me for that you would have said something I'm guessing... six years ago."
I scoffed, rounding the car to climb into the passanger side. "Drive."
"Ouch, seems like I forgot how to do that." He leaned back on his seat dramatically. "I guess we just have to wait until my girlfriend starts being nice to me again."
I tried to glare at him but it was hard to keep the angry thing going when he was so clearly trying not to laugh. I groaned.
"Fine, I don't know. I'm just," I made a face moving my hands around to try to get the message across. "You know?"
"I really don't." He crossed his arms leaning towards me over the gear shift. "You seriously think you're ugly?"
"I," I briefly struggled to string a sentence together. "I guess? Just look at me. I could accept average, I think, on a good day."
He raised his eyebrows, "Wow."
"That's all you're going to say to me?"
"Wow, you're blind." He leaned closer to me, invading my personal space. "Blind."
"Can we go now," I gently pushed him away. "Please? I-just. I think Wendel is staring."
Peeta glanced out of the windshield, making a face as he put his key in the ignition. "Damn, I miss when we were the hermits of the District. Those were the days."
"Everyone thought we were deranged," I said dryly.
"But the privacy couldn't be beat." He turned to look out the rear as he pulled away from the house. Victor's Village hadn't originally been built with the intention of holding a car, let alone Peeta's massive truck, so he had to park in the yard and drive past the fancy wrought iron gate.
"We're not letting this go, just so you know." He said after he got the car on the road. "I'm just trying to keep all the neighbor kids alive."
"I don't want to talk about it anymore."
"Good thing I can talk for the both of us," he waved at an approaching figure. "Hi Mrs. McAlister! Lovely weather we're having. I'd love to stay and chat, but Katniss and I have to get going. Oh! Okay!" He laughed at Mrs. McAlister's usual joke. "Okay, see you!"
"You could roll the window up, you know." I said bitterly for no reason.
"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that because I'm a very nice man." Peeta retorted. "And because we're in the middle of a self-image issue."
"Ugh, you sound like my mother." I cringed thinking about her new 'therapy is the way' approach to life.
"Wha-" Peeta glanced at me with his mouth open, shaking with laughter. "Oh, by the odds, I try to tell you you're beautiful and you tell me I'm a middle aged woman. Where's the love? The poetry? You used to think I was the coolest thing that ever happened to you."
"I never thought that, you're delusional." I accepted the searching hand he placed on my lap, intertwining our fingers. "But thank you for saying that."
"I'm not just saying it, though." He leaned forward to look for an opening before he pulled onto the main road. "I'm being so deadly serious, Katniss. I think you're beautiful because you are."
"Peeta-"
"You have these eyes," he interrupted. "They're so intense. Like smoke. Sometimes, when you look at me it feels like.. God, it feels like fire. Like I'm going to die if I can't be near you."
I slammed my mouth shut, suddenly very interested in his new line of thought.
"You know, for a long time there I thought you couldn't get more beautiful than you already were. You were so serious back then, always frowning, like you were thinking about the hard stuff all the time. But then your smile. Katniss, I love your smile." He smiled at me then, before turning back to the road. "You have these funny uneven teeth, and on anyone else they'd look out of place, but on you? They're perfect."
"You like my buck teeth?"
"I love your little rabbit teeth," he said with a laugh. "And your hair? You have no idea how obsessed I am with you hair. I used to wait for you to fall asleep so I could smell it. It made me feel like a creep."
I laughed, "I knew about the hair."
"And you haven't left me? Wow, you must really like me."
"Just a bit," I agreed leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Thank you."
"Oh, I'm not done. I could write poetry about the curve of your nose. And your hands, even your lips. And we haven't even gotten to the dirty stuff yet. I think I actually did write something about how much I love your boobs once. It's in an old sketchbook somewhere."
I laughed, "I love you, dummy."
"Love you too." He honked. "Hey! Are you blind? Get outta the road!"
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