#Craig gets into a really good college far away from home and he...probably...ends up going...

[dumbass-404]

If Dirt Lifter was a song:

https://youtu.be/BE40pO2r1oU?si=2ytr2gsCVVS7PWvY

So Craig-core. He listens to this on repeat and stares at the wall.

#i am lifting dirt #I have more dirt lifter plot but have no motivation to write any more than one shots #Craig gets into a really good college far away from home and he...probably...ends up going... #this is based on very recent events and I don't know how it will turn out for him or me... #But uh. yeah very dirt lifter even in the high school part

[itsbeautifulhologram]

Fatherhood [South Park] Prologue

Kenny isn't a complicated man, no way, he was raised in poverty and expected a lot less as a kid as he did as an adult. He expected himself to finally move from the shitty home into another shitty place away from his house with Karen in tow. He wouldn't dare leave his sister in the same shitty house he had been raised in, and end up at some dirty part time job to make ends meet and so he could help put Karen through college or a home of her own, whatever floats her boat. Then he'll meet some super hot chick, slide into her dms and somehow get her pregnant then marry her out of guilt she since was stuck with him and their kid. Just like his mom and dad, but he wouldn't abuse her or anything else, he wanted to be a better father than his was. 

He wanted to be the best and never let his kids go through everything he went through as a child. Kenny expected his life to be like that until he met [M/N] at least.

The guy turn his head around and made his chest hurt, he actually died. [M/N] actually gave him a heart attack, which was funny and the next day, he asked [M/N] for his name and number. The rest was history actually. They started dating at a young age, they never really fought either which was different from most relationships in South Park, they always had a date every Sunday and Thursday night since [M/N] and Kenny's schedules were terribly busy with their own lives and families. Usually it was at [M/N]'s home too, both relaxing and they watched movies. As they grow older though, they had more dates and worked their own jobs. [M/N] saving up for college and maybe somewhere nice to stay in while Kenny saved up for himself and Karen's own needs. Though, slowly, their relationship began to slowly break. Like the chain that kept them together was slowly rotting and cracking.

They knew it, everyone else did too but mind their own business. Kenny's eyes began to wonder and [M/N] began throwing himself into his studies and work when he noticed Kenny's eyes did wonder to the female population like he did in their younger years. Oh how it hurt him, how it made [M/N] question himself too. Was he right for Kenny? Was he neglecting him badly that Kenny wanted more compony with someone that had a perky set of breast? Was he a horrible boyfriend? [M/N] must be if he was holding back the only man he loved. He was horrible.

That's why he had to let him go, If you love something then you have to let him go right?

Right.

So, that's exactly what he did with a heavy heart and soft sobs, " I'm sorry," He had began to Kenny's horror and as horrible as it sounded, to his relief. " I don't think I can do this anymore, keeping you with me when you want something else. I've seen your eyes wonder to girls and I knew you don't have to gull or balls to cheat on me. So instead of making you suffer any longer, I'm breaking up with you." Before Kenny could console his Ex-boyfriend, [M/N] walked away from him and down the street. Kenny's eyes watching his figure get smaller and smaller until he was out of sight.

Kenny began chasing girls after that, he was a free man now. He was free from being the best boyfriend, free from his expectations, free. Maybe he wasn't someone who liked being in a relationship that lasted long as theirs's? Of course, he glanced at the occasional man but his focus was on women with the largest tits and the softest [H/C].

[M/N] never seemed to taken interest in the same sex, as far as Kenny knew, Craig was pushing it at times but nothing serious between [M/N] and him or any other guy, not like Kenny was paying attention either. It just bothered him but Kenny pushed it away.

He wasn't jealous, no way. He should be busy with the current girl around him, they kissed, screwed and everything else but Goldie Anderson never was one for labels. The short black-haired girl had two dull brown eyes and usually had cheap and dented glasses. She had a medium set of breast and a slightly curvy waist, but god, her lips were thick and usually wore ruby red lipstick. Her outfits were dirty or were tight on her which she used it to her advantage when she seduced Kenny to her bed.

Goldie Anderson's situation was like Kenny's, poor family and drunks but the only difference was that Goldie was an only child and often seduced others who had money. How she ended up with Kenny was a strange situation but no one said anything. They were almost adults, they'll handle their messes.

Except this was a mess they couldn't exactly clean up, or Kenny couldn't. Nine months ago, Goldie had slept with Kenny, no condom and claimed she was on the pill which was good enough for Kenny at the moment. After that, Goldie avoided Kenny like the plague which confused the other but shrugs it off. More girls were waiting for him anyway.

[M/N] gotten his student job thanks to the school, which would look great on his college application, he would help at the local daycare on the weekdays after school. Only Monday through Thursday, paid twelve dollars and hour. He was good. As long as he works through until he graduates, PC Principal would send a letter of reccomdation at a college in Boulder or Aspen for his teaching degree. He was busy with focusing on school to know of Kenny's sexcapades. He would start officially in October. He had his own expectations on himself, work hard enough so he could teach kids, don't get caught up with drama then marry some guy and have his own kids.

Two different men and their expectations through the roof. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kenny groans as he woke up to his parents fighting in their bedroom, they were fighting since he could hear his dad say over and over, " Fuckin' bitch, FUCK YOU!" Like a broken record, then the sound of glass breaking against the wall. The blonde sighs as he combes his fingers through his blonde hair and slowly get off the bed. It was early as far as he knew, the sun was poking out from under blanket that he covered the window with. He shuffled his boxers back up and covered himself the bottom half of himself with them, then a pair of sweat pants then his orange Parka. He pulled the hoodie up before walking out the door.

He was sure there was some bagels for him and Karen for breakfast, not to mention Tweek as given them a few days old coffee to warm up. Nice breakfast for the first day of the month, the blonde entered the kitchen and ignored the squeaks of mice and rats who breaks away from their groups and hid away. Kenny pulled the bag of bagels out the fridge and open up, his teal eyes peering in to see the first bagel was turning green and fluffy, he throws it away and takes the other one that had yet to turn gross. At least Karen would be able to eat today, he placed the bread into the toaster and switched it on. Kenny takes what's left of their cream cheese and placed it on the counter. 

The fighting hasn't stop but he didn't move to stop it, they always fought and always threw things and today Kenny didn't want to be apart of it. Kenny placed the coffee he had left in the cup and began warming it up in the dirty microwave, he watched it spin around slowly and the machine humming as it warmed his drink. Probably the only thing he would be eating at all. Not that he minded, his sister before himself. Kevin finally booked it when he turned seventeen with Stan's sister, Shelly. Last he heard, she was large and about to pop out Kenny's first niece or nephew. 

As long as Kevin doesn't turn out like their father, than Kenny had no problem of them having a kid together in some other none fuckish place like South Park. Plus not another mouth to feed. I hope they're okay though, knowing Kevin isn't one for reasonability, Kenny thought as he placed the bagel on the plastic plate. He used the butter knife and spread the cream cheese over the bagel as he heard footsteps come towards the kitchen. He turns to see Karen, she was rubbing sleep from her eyes and smiled drowsly at her brother. For now, karen is my only responsibility. " Morning Ken." Karen greeted with a yawn, " How are you?" " I'm good princess, you?" Kenny asked as Karen smiled but both winced when another bottle hit the wall and then there was knocking on the door. " Get the door?" Karen smiled and walked towards the door just as the microwave beeps, the blonde turns around and opens the tiny door and picks up his lukewarm coffee cup. He inhales it for a moment before drinking it. He heard the door open and closed within minutes, " You okay-woah-baby." Kenny said all in once when karen came back into the kitchen with a baby in her arms. It didn't move but he could see it breathing. " Just because we live in a shitty neighborhood, doesn't mean were a dumping ground for bastards." Kenny said, annoyance growing. " It's from Goldie's mom." Karen answered softly, looking down at the sleeping baby. " It's a boy..." " Okay, so Goldie got pregnant from some other dude and her mom wants it gone-" " Ken, he looks like you from the pictures mom has." Karen stops her brother from ranting away at Goldie being a bad mother. " She said Goldie went away and she didn't want him." Kenny stared at the bundle in Karen's arms for a moment and blinked, he could see blonde hair poking out from under the blanket a bit. He had a son, a baby boy. Another McCormick, he had made another McCormick. Kenny made a baby with a girl who didn't want anything to do with him other than sex. Oh how screwed he was, the grip on the mug falters and it falls to the floor which startled the baby and began crying loudly in a distressed Karen's arms. He wails and raised his chubby arms in the air as he sobbed for comfort. That's how it all began.

#south park kenny #malereader #south park #gay #kenny mccormick #eric cartman #kyle brovlofski #stan marsh #male reader

[gaspbrat]

Senior Year Hues

not blues

au where IT is just a normal travelling clown.

Georgie is alive and well.

As is the prom haze.

warnings: angery jealous eds, swearing

ENJOy, I don’t know why I never posted this. Undoubtedly was part of an entire series.

wc: 3500+

Gretchen Tozier was a beloved and respected 1968 partially black Barracuda “carefully” handed down through the family. Gifted to Richie’s uncle in ‘71, pawned off on Richie’s dad following his uncle’s first DUI and the damage that came with it in January of '72.

Two matte grey mismatched panels on the driver side door and the front bumper were added, hoped to be finished by '73 so Richie’s older sister could joyride through her senior year, seven years later. Thanksgiving that same year, though, dear Uncle Andy rolled through Derry again. He borrowed the car for about twenty-six minutes before overturning it on an embankment near Neibolt. Gretchen was towed, fixed and released back to his father a few months later. His uncle spent the night in the drunk tank, receiving his second and final DUI. Andy hasn’t returned to Derry or their lives since.

To his sister’s distaste, she would not be able to take it a few hundred miles down the coast to college with her like she had hoped. His parents told her she needed to buy her own, especially with her living on campus. She does, a beat up ‘88 Mitsubishi with peeling forest green paint and a bumper that didn’t match.

Richie, upon turning 15, bought her off of his dad for fifty dollars and a pay stub in '91. She has been appreciated properly for the next three wonderful years. Only the finest of company near Ol’ Gretchie.

Eddie definitely hated the ridiculous, loud, obnoxious piece of junk. He definitely didn’t end up falling for that piece of junk just like he did with its driver. Out of the question.

He didn’t get excited when he heard the rhythmic drumming of the old engine approaching his street from a block away.

He most certainly did not love the homey fabric of the seats with endless rips in them or the faint lingering smell of the little trees Richie puts up to mask the ghost of cigarettes past. (Eddie is almost certain they aren’t Richie’s, but if they were he knew Richie would never admit it.)

Eddie did not love that car. Whatsoever. But he did find a place in his heart for all the memories made with it. With him.

So when Richie told him he had to take it to the dump, Eddie nearly lost it.

“What do you mean you’re trashing it, I thought you loved that thing?!”

“Eds, why are you getting so upset, I thought you hated it?”

“I do (not), but… it’s sad seeing you just get rid of it like that.”

“You’re gonna miss ol’ Gretchie aren’t you, spaghetti?”

Richie knew his car didn’t actually need to be trashed entirely it just needed a few major repairs that he knew he would never be able to afford. At least not soon; not for another three months until he could save enough. And if Eddie found out he’d dump his savings into that thing no question. His little hypochondriac was far too good to  him. Even if he wasn’t his yet.

Eddie always was ready to help Richie any way he could, he knew that wholeheartedly, but his stupid damn pride would not allow it.

Richie took up working overtime on the weekends just so he could get back to driving his little Eddie bear around Derry as soon as possible.

Gretchen was a staple in the Tozier’s Promposals. She accompanied his parents to their prom. He was not about to break this tradition just because of his bank account. Eddie deserved the best carriage for his first prom. He was going to have to swallow his pride and buckle in for the most agonizing waiting game of his life, so far.

“Hey, Richie,” Eddie called over to his friend, remembering an invitation he was to extend, snapping Richie from his brooding, “Bill’s having a sleepover tonight, did you want to go? He said you can pick the movie.”

Eddie’s smile was so genuine and hopeful the he almost said yes just so he could keep that smile right where it belonged always but he remembered he had to close tonight and work the mid shift tomorrow. And Bill never let him pick the movies, ever.

“Wish I could but I work tonight. Sorry, buddy.” he patted Eddie’s shoulder and gave him a weak smile.

“You’ll get along without me though, won’t you, Eds?”

“I guess… yea.”

Richie immediately wanted to take it back just to see that smile. Just to see those damn dimples.

He seemed to have gotten his wish when he noticed those big brown eyes light up.

“What about tomorrow? We could go see that movie you wanted to see?”

Again, almost horrendously, Eddie looked so hopeful to be spending time with him that Richie’s frozen heart thawed, just slightly.

“My old man wants me to help him get my sister’s junk out of the house and down to her dorm this weekend, shit, I’m really sorry Eds.”

Richie really really hoped Eddie would leave at that but of course not. He really wanted trashmouth to suffer even if he didn’t know he was suffering.

“..I could help?”

Eddie knew he just grasping at straws here but he really missed being annoyed by this dumb stupid asshole every day even though he would never tell him that.

“Eds, I’d love for you to,” the smaller boy’s eyes twinkled, “but there probably wouldn’t be enough room?”

He knew he didn’t sound convincing. Not at all. He just didn’t want to think about it anymore. He wanted to just get work done so he could get paid and then never ever ever have to see this look on Eddie’s face again.

“Oh. Yea, you-you’re probably right, um, sorry I asked. Maybe next week, I guess.” Eddie decided it was best to just give him his space at that point, turning away from him, trying to end the conversation.

“Eds, wait-”

“Stop fucking calling me Eds.”

Richie didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the weekend after he dropped him off at Bill’s that night. Partially from working almost the entire weekend, partially because Eddie had avoided him as much as he could.

Somehow Eddie managed to steer clear of anything remotely related to Richie that next Tuesday.

The taller boy caught a couple glimpses of him the previous school day but he would disappear before anything could be said between them.

Richie sauntered over to the rest of the losers at lunch to find Eddie absent like the day before.

“Hey, where’s Spaghedward?”

“We thought you would know, didn’t you guys just have chem?” Ben answered from beside Stan.

“Yea but he darted off somewhere in a hurry. I thought he’d be here.” Richie turned around hoping to spot Eddie coming from the bathroom or something.

“He seemed kind of upset when I talked to him earlier, what’s going on?” Beverly interjected after swallowing her first spoon of peach yogurt.

Stan ate in silence while the others discussed what could be wrong. He eyed Richie with what others would call just blatant disgust but hid it behind his thermos of chicken noodle soup.

“Yo, Stan, what do you think?” Richie finally asked him directly. He knew something.

“I think you should talk to him.” Ben responded before realizing he wasn’t the one with the answer Richie wanted.

“I second that. Talk to him.” Mike said around his turkey and cheddar sandwich.

Beverly and Bill simply nodded as they picked through their lunches.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Stan very quietly said, focusing pointedly on his sandwich.

“Why not?” Richie started to get impatient. Stan knew something he didn’t and it was clearly upsetting enough that Stan couldn’t hide his distaste. More than usual.

“He clearly just wants some space, I think you should respect that, okay?”

Stan started to raise his voice slightly and that immediately made Richie eight times more concerned knowing that Stan, of all people, was trying to keep Eddie away from him. Stan quickly picked up his tray and dumped it into the trash before heading down one of the halls.

Richie gave Beverly a kick under the table.

She initially was annoyed but softened when she saw the beat up Docs that had kicked her, nodding without a word. She kicked back twice, the second kick stronger than the first.

“Ow,”

“What, Richie?” Bill raised his head.

“Nothing just kicking myself.”

Lunch proceeded in near silence. Richie was silent for once while the others gossiped about their classes. He was debating the decision to ditch his last period to be early for work. Craig would appreciate him showing up and relieving him early, anyway.

The others returned to their classes and the day sailed by. After school most of them, save for Richie and Mike, met up by the racks to see each other off. Beverly and Ben made a plan to head to the library to cram for their English final tomorrow morning. Bill was planning on tagging along but decided to spend some time with Georgie instead.

Stan knew he didn’t want Ben to third wheel, even though it was evident Bill would be the outlier.

“Bye guys, see you Monday!” Eddie called to the other three losers as he and Stan got on their bikes to head home.

“Oh, hey can we stop by the store really quick? I need to pick up some more of the Nutty Buddies for my mom.”

“Sure.” Eddie didn’t think twice about the grocery run given Mrs. Uris had an acute craving for peanut butter after four.

He was unaware, however, that Stan had set a plan in motion.

Just so happens that the general store was directly across the street from the arcade. Eddie immediately got excited and thought to tell Stan they should go say hi to Richie. Then he remembered Richie telling him he had to help his sister today and brushed it off.

The two went inside to pick up the Nutty Buddies. Stan bought a kit-kat and a bag of chips for him to eat after dinner later.

“I don’t know how you can eat all that junk Stan, how do you sleep at night with your teeth just-,” Eddie stopped nagging momentarily as something outside of the store caught his attention. A dark green, vaguely familiar, car pulled up outside the arcade.

He saw Richie pop out and walk into the arcade with a can of Shasta cola in his hand and a snickers hanging from his mouth, leaving who Eddie assumed was his sister to drive off.

Weird. Thought she would still be in New York right about now.

“Eddie whats going on? You stopped yelling at me.”

“Shut up Stan, look!”

Eddie pointed out the window towards a car he noticed was parked every other season in the driveway.

“Wait, I thought you said he was helping his sister.” Stan inquires further, knowing far better.

“He said he was.” Eddie was immediately disappointed for a reason he wasn’t sure of yet.

Their investigation was put on hold while the clerk rang up their items. She tried starting small talk but Stan just replied curtly with, “Not interested, thank you” while waving a twenty in her general direction.

Eddie supplied a ‘thanks’ to Stan for buying the goods without once looking away from the arcade, observing a cloud of teenage girls huddled in a corner. Their ring leader was approaching the glass and Eddie started to feel dread at the pit of his stomach. He nudged Stan and then started bagging erratically.

They gathered the items and bolted out the door, trying to make sure they could see Richie through the glass without him seeing them.

“Wait, who’s that girl?” Eddie said after a long period of silence.

“Looks like Melissa Cromwell. She’s pretty hot du-.” Stan passed on the general rumor he heard relentlessly from around town. They made him sick but she was definitely well recognized by most boys.

“Shut up, Stan, who asked you?” Eddie whipped out, hoping his words stung like the sting he felt in his chest at this moment.

“You.. did-”

“What the fuck is she doing?”

“Is that a trick question?”

He scoffed but let Eddie’s rambling continue, however, because he had a feeling that Eddie cared a lot more than it already seemed he did. He hasn’t said anything to Stan like ‘Hey I’m bangin’ Richie now, deal with it’ but they’ve been spending a lot of time in each other’s company as of late.

He also knew exactly what a little jealous sap Kaspbrak was like so he didn’t intervene; didn’t mean he couldn’t feed the flame just a bit. Richie was being dismissive and kind of a dick lately, not that that’s anything new. Stan just didn’t want to see his friend tossed over a cliff over this dirt bag.

“Oh my God he’s making her laugh? Look- look at that!”

“I mean, yea? They have Lit together.” Stan announced with his all-knowing bird brain. He saw all and only repeated what he wanted to.

“Why do you care about what Richie fuckin’ Tozier does with his wa-”

Eddie turned to Stan and gave him the look.

Stan shut his mouth tight.

“He lied to me Stanley and know he’s chatting up that hot chick.”

He would never say it to Eddie’s face, (Richie’s face is another story) but Stanley didn’t truly understand what Eddie saw in that asshole. Richie was a dick about three-hundred percent of the time. A dick to Eddie three-hundred percent of the time. He was also for some reason intensely obsessed with his mom.

Stan decided it was best to just let that ship sink on its own eventually when the captain abandoned it. However, if he saw a time bomb ticking down the hull of that ship, he would hop on that lifeboat without a single word and paddle away, letting the pieces fall behind him.

But he couldn’t do that to Eddie.

Right?

The pair noticed the girls all call his name as they exited through the glass doors, cackling with their mob mentality. Stan found them repulsive but knew most guys saw the other qualities.

“Eh, Richie makes a lot of girls laugh sometimes. I guess they think he’s funny?” Stan attempted to level out some of the doubt surrounding his friend.

Much to Eddie’s dismay, Richie started to head back outside of the arcade.

He let out a panicked ‘oh fuck’ before darting off into the alley and biking through it, he didn’t care where he went he just wanted to get far from there.

Stan was struggling with the bag and his kickstand and failed to notice the quick departure of his friend.

He started off a moment later but hesitated when he saw Richie following Melissa further down the street holding a pair of sunglasses and a sharpie in his hands.

Bright neon lights blinked in the arcade window with a welcoming glow. It felt like home to Richie. Except he worked there and wasn’t allowed to play (unless it was empty because it was so slooow after eight).

He got out of his sister’s car with a quick ‘thanks, sis’ before closing the door and heading into work. He wondered what bullshit he’d have to put up with today as he munched down on his snickers.

Richie immediately noticed Melissa and her biters at Pacman not far from the counter. He knew all too well that it yielded almost no tickets at all.

“What’s up, Craig?” he called from around his almost-gone snickers.

The mid-twenties blonde looked up from his comic to acknowledge the brunette boy before him with his hand outstretched in a fist. They bumped fists before Richie set down his shasta on the glass prize display case so he could vault the counter. He landed with a huff loud enough to peak the interest of one of the vapid cheerleaders. It wasn’t hard, none of them were at all focused on collecting dots.

“Those girls came in about a half hour ago. One of them was asking about you.” Craig was telling Richie offhandedly while the younger brunette took off his leather jacket to replace it with his work shirt.

“They’re annoying please, just, like, give them your number and be done with it, totes,” Craig started to bust out laughing while he took off his work shirt and headed into the back of the store.

Richie bent down to put his keys and jacket under the register, pausing when he heard a light giggle from above him.

Fuck.

He slowly got up to face whoever was waiting on the other side of the counter.

“Heey, Richie.” Melissa was leaning on her hand with her elbow propped up on the glass of the counter.

Richie took small a step back from the register.

“Hi, Melissa.”

“I, um, wanted to exchange these tickets for something.” she reached into her back pocket and brought out a pitiful stack of tickets.

Absolutely pathetic.

“Okay.” Richie took them and put them into the ticketing counting machine next to him.

27

“You have twenty-seven.” He said back plainly.

“Ooh, jackpot.” she said slyly smiling as she bit on the end of her sunglasses.

“You can get a finger puppet, a pocket alien” He began listing the lowest tier of redemption.

“A pair of dice,”

“Or jelly bracelets.” The short list came to an end, his attention being returned to the glinting eyes across the counter. He took note of how flattering this direct light would be on anEone else. He pushed it back and awaited her decision.

“Can I get that one?” she pointed to a particularly adorable bear toy.

“Oooh, no sorry. You don’t have enough tickets. How sad.” he clicked his tongue, cocking his head to the side.

“How many more do I need?” She asked with a horrible attempt at puppy dog eyes.

“One.”

“Let me check,” she dug into her back pocket, bouncing from foot to foot.

“Ah-hah!” Melissa pulled out a single ticket, setting it on the counter and sliding it across to him.

“Lucky you.” he said so sarcastically he almost sounded believable.

Richie turned the ticket over before putting it into the machine revealing red numbers and a call me in sloppy cursive loops with,his favorite, a little winky face. He paused, collected his nerves before presenting her with a coy smile.

“I’m sorry, this ticket has been tampered with. I can’t accept this.” he slid it back, grinning.

“Fine. Then I’ll take the,” she leaned much farther than necessary over the counter to point to a tiny alien on a key chain.

“Weird ass alien thing.”

“All yours.”

“Thank you.”

She winked at him before returning to her gang of much too giddy single sheeple friends.

He couldn’t wait to tell Eddie all about this petty ordeal but then he remembered he probably wouldn’t see his best friend until tomorrow at lunch if Eddie showed. Maybe he’d sneak out tonight.

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw Melissa and company head towards the exit.

“Bye Richie.” they all called in shrill unison as they left the arcade, giggling manically to each other. Melissa dangled her alien keychain from hier pinkie as she turned away.

Fuck he hated his job.

He crossed his arms on the glass that he would need to clean anyway and rested his head on top of them. His nose bumped something on the counter causing him to jolt up.

Fuck.

Richie picked the glasses up off the counter before vaulting it again. He walked with some urgency through the glass door after Melissa.

Lucky for him she was lagging behind her friends while they undoubtedly chattered among themselves about how perfect him and Mel would be together. How great they would look together at prom, most likely.

“Melissa!”

Eddie’s bike was thrown into the dirt far from the arcade while he sat down on a rock and used his inhaler. He hasn’t biked that fast since they had to chase Bill to that stupid fucking house on neibolt. That house that he broke his arm in. The house that the clown tried to eat him and all of his friends in.

That goddamn house where Richie set his broken arm after relentlessly trying to keep his focus on that motherfucking shit clown.

He coached his breathing back down to mildly panicked just before he saw Stan biking rapidly towards him. He seemed shocked.

He immediately worried if Richie had seen his buddy Stan and stopped him.

“Hey Stan, what’cha got there, lube for you dad?”

“No it’s Eddie’s snacks, he bolted like a bitch when you came out.”

“Oh damn, well, I got Melissa’s digits and I would have wanted to tell him that his mom’s gonna have to wait unt-”

“Eddie!”

Stan shook his shoulder lightly.

“Wait, when did you get here?”

“Like a minute ago while you were lost in thought, dude.”

“Shit. Damn.”

“You okay?” his only sanity broke off at Stan’s useless question.

“No, Stanley, Im not o’ fuckin’ kay.”

Thanks for readin’! Much love

#reddie #it 2017 #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stanley uris #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #2 years old #lol i suck #pt 1 #gaspbrat #reddie fics #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak #slowest of burns #syhnb #fics

[paladin4theright]

Revenge: Prologue

Karen McCormick was six months pregnant. She would be the perfect object to use in Cartman’s twisted, devious plan he’d dubbed, “Project Jew”.

Karen had accidentally gotten pregnant by Ike Broflovski. She apparently didn’t want to graduate from high school as a virgin and Ike needed to know whether or not he was gay. Win, win, right? The only problem was that neither teen was expecting the Canadian to be extremely potent, only getting Karen pregnant on pre-come. Ike had discovered he actually was fucking gay and Karen found out later that she was pregnant.The two were best friends along with Tricia Tucker. The three amigos were practically inseparable which made this plan extremely difficult. Not to mention Karen recently started dating Fillmore Anderson. Another set back. This, of course, was all to get Kyle back, that damned fucking Jew boy.

Stan Marsh had left just after high school to join the Marines and Kyle stayed obsessed with school. He used this as an excuse to bury his head in homework rather than wonder why the fuck his heart hurt. Of course, Cartman tried to make him feel better by taking him out but that was a rare occurrence. Hell, just a little fucking attention from Kyle would have been nice. Cartman just wasn’t good enough. All his fucking attention went to his courses and Kyle made no time for Cartman. Therefore, Cartman had to go and find attention elsewhere. He preyed upon Butters Stotch for almost six years. Even poor ass Kenny McCormick had gone to college. He became a paramedic while Kyle became a microbiologist. Fuckers. Kenny always wanted to help people and better himself. He always put others before himself. Then one day he came back to town and literally stole Butters away from Cartman. After that, all Cartman could think of was Kyle. Somehow the putrid Jew always weaseled his way back into his mind, even when he was fucking someone else. Even with Butters, Cartman would imagine that curly, red-headed Hebrew writhing under his body and the images just grew from there.

Craig Tucker and Tweek Tweak had gotten engaged during their high school graduation ceremony. It was definitely a sight to behold and not one easily forgotten. A year later they were married. As far as Cartman knew, Tweek had opened his own coffee shop in Denver, ‘Tucker’d Out Coffee’ he believed it was called. It supposedly was even better than his parents and had NO traces of drugs, making the little twitchy blonde slightly less twitchy. Craig had a job at Ball Aerospace Corporation near the coffee shop. He spent his day looking at stars and helping NASA reach them. Fucking space geek. Kyle had moved to Denver for school and now he worked at some bio-engineering laboratory and Kenny worked at a hospital somewhere in the downtown Denver area. Almost everyone lived in Denver now. Butters lived with Kenny and about six months ago fucking gay-ass Stanley came back from touring in Afghanistan. Honorable discharge so Cartman hears it. Supposedly a few months ago Stan and Kyle actually became an item and it wretched Cartman’s stomach. He was fucking sick with rage and envy. He had been there for Kyle, not Stan. Stan was a notorious alcoholic from early elementary school on into high school. Their senior year Stan held his birthday party at his parents house and got fucking plastered. He took Kyle to his bedroom and tried to drunk fuck him. Cartman saw it all through the gap in the closed-over bedroom door. Kyle had a few drinks, but he was smart enough to hold himself back. Fucking Stan, though, confessed his feelings that night. He even literally threw them up. Cartman thought that Kyle probably didn’t even realize Stan was admitting the truth; Stan’s slurred words were just that of drunken stupor. Thoughts of that night still make Cartman digest rocks. Instead of interrupting them, he just went home to jack off to pictures of Kyle he had collected over the years.

Cartman remembered the next morning. He remembered the look on Kyle’s face when he realized that Stan had forgotten everything that happened the previous night. He saw how much Kyle hurt even if he said nothing about it. Cartman and Kyle actually became really close after that. He thought he would finally have Kyle to himself once Stan was out of the picture. Kyle’s stupid super-best-friend always held him back from being happy. Low and behold, the fucking bastard came back a goddamn hero. Guess the military set his drinking problem straight because he went through police academy and was currently serving as Denver’s rookie police officer. Motherfucker. He didn’t deserve Kyle. No one did. Except Eric fucking Cartman.

That’s why over a month ago Cartman began sending Kyle texts from unknown numbers. He confessed his love for Kyle over text. He had always intended to tell him in person but Kyle gave him no choice. He knew Kyle knew it was him. He was going to have Kyle to himself whether willingly or by force if necessary. He didn’t know where the couple lived in Denver even with the extensive research on the two. This is where his plan came into play.

Cartman only had a small window for his plan to be operated. He knew Butters and Kenny were coming back to South Park for the last few months of Karen’s pregnancy so she could receive help to finish out high school. She wanted to graduate with her friends. Kenny’s weakness was always his sister and they would be in town by the end of the week.

So there Cartman was: silently opening up the window of the pregnant’s girl’s room. Oddly enough, Karen was living with the Tuckers in Craig’s old bedroom. She was kicked out of her parents house when they found out she was with child. This made Cartman have to work harder at tracking the bitch. This was the first night he had found her asleep in her bed without her damned boyfriend or having some kind of sleep over with Ike. Once the window was open, he clambered his large body through and pulled a Ziplock bag from his thick jacket pocket. Inside was a rag doused in chloroform. He opened the bag, gritting his teeth together as he pulled the plastic grips apart, trying his best to not make a sound. He quickly took the wet rag out as he crossed the carpeted bedroom floor in a few strides. He took in a deep breath and quickly shoved the rag over the Karen’s nose and mouth. It startled her enough to where her big blue eyes flew open and she struggled against him. Cartman used his weight to his advantage and pressed against her. She squirmed and tried to scream but the noxious fumes of the chloroform worked all too well. Her arms fell limp and her eyes fluttered to the back of her head. Now everything else would fall into place…once Cartman figured out how to take the limp body to his mother’s house.

Someone would realize Karen was missing, Kenny would be notified and tell Kyle. Then Kyle would text him. It was all just a waiting game now.

That’s when the transaction would take place.

A trade.

The pregnant teen for the ginger Jew.

This is my main story on AO3 and I am trying to keep up with updating it when I can. I have quite a few chapters if you’d like to read more!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672818

#P4R writings #Paladin4theright fanfics #revenge au #south park #south park fanfiction #sp fanfiction #sp stan #sp kyle #sp kenny #sp cartman #sp craig #sp tweek tweak #sp creek #sp style #sp bunny #sp butters #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #eric cartman #kenny mccormick #butters stotch #craig tucker #tweek tweak #fanfiction #fanfics #sp revenge AU #sp kyman #one-sided kyman really

[nerdy-flower]

@sinunamor IT IS WRITTEN

Sorry for the heckin long wait ;^; here it is! Ernest Growing Up Part 3/3! (For now~)

(Ernest curses a lot and it’s a little sad at the beginning, otherwise it’s G)

It isn't working.

In spite of everything, Ernest came out of college doing kind of okay. He had an alright resume, a little pocket of savings, some furniture. Better than some kids he sat next to at graduation, for sure. He gets that coveted first apartment to himself- literally a room and a bathroom. The water pressure is like a dog lifting its leg and peeing on him and the neighbours are obnoxious, but it was his. He was paying rent! Utilities! Insurance, even! Life was looking up! Was.

He stayed in the city he went to school in, With his Pop's new condo a half hour away, it didn't feel so far. They'd have dinner all the time. Pop would give him tips on places to go and things to see. At one point, he says he wouldn't have moved here if he didn't know Ernest was staying. Ernest didn't have a great answer for that, tongue sudden;y stuck. They get froyo anyway.

His shit job became two shit jobs and then one again, then two, then three very briefly, then one with occasional paid-in-cash online ads stuff. Maybe illegal? Only in a tax law way, so whatever. He busts his ass- well, some of the time. Sometimes he half-asses it and gets paid anyway, other times he gets fired, depends on the place. What it comes down to is that he never has enough money. All the Gen Z-targeted personal finance advice blogs are shit, too. “Get a roommate!” For where? The cupboard under his kitchen sink?

Actually, in his postal code, someone might take it. But they'd be just as broke as him.

Even now, he feels spoiled and pathetic. Plenty of people just had to make do, they didn't have a Dad to send cheques in the mail, a stepdad to order them groceries online, a Pop to full-on spot them rent money. He tries and tries to make it work and he /can't./

Finally, he picks up the phone. “Dad?”

“Ernest? What's the matter? Is everything-”

“Can I come home?” With his stuff, he means, with the furniture he can't use anymore and his rejected debit card and-

Hugo makes this little noise, a very parental click of concern that sticks right in his chest. “Of course, always.”

Lucien drives him because he's been working solely off his laptop and following Pablo around the East Coast. Ernest isn't a hundred percent on what he does, but it's enough to pay for a rental van and a premium streaming account so commercials don't interrupt their drawn-out silence on the way back North to Maple Bay.

“Do you need to be an asshole about this? I said I was sorry, okay? I'll pay you back as soon as I get money, /god./”

“All I asked,” Lucien drawls, smartass as always. “Is if you wanted me to buy you a bagel. So I'll just buy your least favourite one and we'll carry the fuck on, shall we?”

Ernest officially hates everything forever, but mostly himself.

Dad and Damien welcome them home with big, awkward hugs and lots of understanding when he wants to go to bed straightaway and they left his room the way it was and /fuck/-

Pics or it didn't happen, as the young adults say. If no one sees him crying and hugging his teddy in his mid-twenties, it never took place.

His dignity drops a few more points the next day when he has to beg and plead with his Dad not to tell Pop.

“What if he goes to your place and you're not there?” Hugo insists, hands soapy from washing the dishes. “He'll be so worried!”

“He always calls or texts first, always,” Ernest thrusts another dried plate into the cupboard and balls his fists together. “I'm not gonna pretend forever, honest. /Please/, Dad,  just a few more days, that's all I'm asking. It's my thing to tell him, anyway!”

“Okay, okay,” Hugo holds his hands up in a peacemaking gesture. He tucks some overgrown hair behind his ear- shit, he's gone even more grey. His dads are going grey and he can't afford his own Netflips account. “I won't tell him, but if he calls and asks, I'm not going to lie. Alright?”

“Fair enough,” Ernest sighs through his nose, tucking the cutlery away in brooding silence. Goddammit, he's too old to brood. This sucks.

Hugo watches him a minute before draining the sink. “Have you heard from Carmensita? She's back in town, you two should meet for coffee or something. Get your mind off things.”

Ernest swings his head around, barely listening to the second half of the sentence. “She's back already? I know she was talking about it, but- yeah. I'll text her.”

He does, and they meet up, later that day because his schedule is open indefinitely. He waves to River and Crish, doing something with multiple types of sportsballs in the Cahn family driveway and thankfully too focused to do more than wave back. Carmensita comes strolling out of Mat's house in a flower-print romper and jogs up the sidewalk to him and he's never, ever been so happy to see someone.

Except that time he got lost at Disney World, but we don't talk about that.

“There's my favourite human!” Ernest laughs as she hops up to hug him. He insists he never got taller, she got shorter, but she still gives the greatest hugs. “No more braids, huh? That's a big change.”

Carmensita giggles and teases her fingers through her mohawk, her sides shaved down to thatches of brown fuzz. “I just got it done, do you like it? It's pretty different, for me at least.”

“I love it,” Ernest scratches one side of her undercut until she playfully bats his hand away. “Nah, it suits you. Makes you look cool and smart, like you're gonna mess somebody up but with your know-how instead of your fists.”

“Overly specific, but I'll take it.” Carmensita grins, a flash of snarky white and he feels like he can stand up straighter. They wave again at the over-active River on their way across the cul-de-sac, and 'Sita leans in to him, talking behind her hand. “You heard about Ashley and Mary, right?”

“Yeah, I sure did.” Ernest glances across the street, almost feeling eyes on him from Mary's house. Which used to be Julian's house, but then Julian and Damien talked and agreed to sell it to Mary shortly after her divorce so she could get out of Damien's spare bedroom and have enough space that custody would be a non-issue. Julian was totally cool with it, because he was practically moved in with Mat anyway and Amanda was fully settled into New York- “God, this neighbourhood is weird.”

“Something in the groundwater, I think,” Carmensita laughs, shaking her head. “Craig's the real deal though. He's legit totally cool with it. I was here in time for the first summer BBQ and I expected, y'know, some awkwardness.”

“Folks around here save all the awkwardness for their kids,” Ernest drawl to make her laugh again. It's nearly sticky outside, but he refuses to remove his sweater. He goes bare-armed for exactly two months a year, tans up real nice, and goes right back into his cotton cocoons of happiness. “So how's life n'stuff?”

“Life n'stuff is pretty good. I've got all my boxes unpacked in less than two months, so that's my record.” She slips off her glasses to polish them on her shirt. “I'll show you my place when we get there, I'm teaching piano lessons out of my living room right now, and- oh! You know what tonight is, right? Are you busy?”

Ernest shakes his head to both, he's been too depressed to check social media and he definitely isn't busy. “What's tonight?”

Carmensita grins wide and imitates an airhorn to punctuate her words. “Open mic night! Woo woo woo!”

It's a little different to watch from the audience with everyone else. The Cahn twins are working part-time at the Spoon now and they're the ones doing the backstage stuff. Lucien drives into town for it, Pablo's tour wrapping up with 'boring business shit' that he'd apparently rather skip. The three of them claim a corner table with high stools and enjoy the quirky parade.

His dad was right, it is nice to forget about his bullshit for a while. He recognizes kids he used to see racing around the playground strumming guitars and nervously messing up their lyrics. Back then he would have made fun of them, and maybe he does chuckle a little, but he gives them credit. He hasn't been on a stage in- oof, at least a year. Discounting karaoke, of course. He wonders what Disaster Master Quinn is up to these days.

The night ends, early enough for all the teens to go to bed, with a pretty tight Sunstroke Project cover on theramin. There is much clapping and whooping and thanking before everyone starts clearing out. Carmensita chugs the rest of her coffee, discreetly wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “Alright, let's pay our tabs and head upstairs. Who's feeling Mario Party?”

“You know I am,” Lucien smirks as they gather their things. “None of the car ones though, I hate that shit.”

Ernest loses the thread of the conversation because there's a hiss of static in his ears. He can't pay his tab. His chequing account is a negative number and he can't remember if their register takes credit or not but that's not an option either. He's too broke. To pay for a goddamn /tea./ God, why does he only clue into shit when it's too late?

The thought of asking them to pay makes him wanna puke, so he performs the maneuver that saved him from many a terrible college party: the Irish Goodbye.

The crowd makes it easy to slip away. He lopes through the parking lot and heads into the undeveloped no-man's land behind the softball field. He shuts off his phone, which any rational instinct would encourage him not to do. He's gonna take the long, long way home and- then what? Isn't that just the biggest fucking question of his life- and then what, you witless idiot?

The static does not stop as he hurries through the warm summer air, eventually cutting across the street and walking down the bay. His pulse is really high for no friggin' reason and he probably couldn't type a text if he needed to- wait, is this a panic attack? No, come on. He's too old to get on any of his dads' benefits. He can't be doing this. He can't, he can't-

A car drives up slowly beside him, and he has a split-second of facing his death before the window rolls down to reveal two annoyed, very familiar faces. “You live in my Dad's house, what the hell was your long-term plan with this?”

“Look, I'm sorry, I couldn't pay and I-” Ernest rakes a hand through his hair, pulling on his scalp. “I'm sorry I'm such a fuck-up, okay? I shouldn't have come out tonight, I'm no good to be around right now.”

Carmensita runs her tongue over her bottom lip. “You ditched us over a four-ninety-seven tab?”

“I called it.”

She scowls, undoes her seatbelt, and clambers out of the passenger door, stomping around to his side. “Give me your face, right now. C'mere-”

Ernest hunches his shoulders so she can reach, mostly out of confusion. She takes his cheeks in her warm hands and paps them with each word, like she's trying to wake up a drunk guy in a movie. “We're not hanging out with your wallet! We want to hang out with /you,/ if you'll stop! Being! Such! A! Dumbass!”

“Can you stop smacking my face?”

“Maybe,” Carmensita drops her hands after two more, crossing her arms. “Seriously though, not cool. What's gotten into you?”

“Dude, I forgot that I couldn't afford to buy a bagel, like how fucked am I?” Ernest scrubs his face, palms burning with his need for a shave. “Everything's so messed up right now. I feel like a complete waste of space.”

“Again with this?” Lucien makes an irritated noise from the car, leaning out the window. “Like you're the only one who's ever been broke. How much money do you think I had after college?”

“Why do you think I'm living over my dad's shop?” Carmensita tilts her head at him. “I know you're upset, but you're not on your own, for god's sake. I would have bought you that bagel anyway, you didn't need to freak out.”

“Guhhhh,” Ernest pushes the heel of one palm against his eye. “I'm sorry I'm such an idiot. I can barely fuckin' think right now.”

“Do you wanna go home or do you wanna play video games with us?” Lucien asks, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “No judgment either way. But maybe decide quick, before some cops come by and get all up in our business.”

Ernest would really like to bury himself in all of his blankets but, in the interest of not continuing to screw up his personal relationships, he picks the right choice. “Video games, please.”

They collectively kick the CPU's ass at getting stars and Carmensita hugs him before he leaves, Lucien's taillights in the distance. “You're not a waste of space, okay? It'll get better, just don't let things get this bad again.”

He almost misses being the one to cheer her up. It's a shitty thing to miss, but at least he didn't go home feeling all squashed on the inside.

Ernest gets up the guts to call his Pop a few days later. He's totally cool about it, even though he sunk how much into that one room. Somehow that makes Ernest feel worse.

“Trust me, my credit in my early twenties was a /mess,/ I was really stupid with my money. It was bad. Like, scary bad. Your gramps flipped his lid when he saw my pile of bills on the table.”

“Mine's a mess too,” Ernest mumbles, knees folded up to his chest as he leans back against his headboard.

“Yeah, but it's more fixable than it looks. It'll just take time. If you owned a car or something that would be kinda rough, but hey, I turned it around, didn't I? Before I met your dad too, no way would he have dated pre-grad school me. Nuh-uh,” Pop laughs, a hiss-crack in his ear because he does this weird almost-silent laugh that Ernest makes fun of constantly. “Tell you what, I'll pay off your card so you're not getting those assholes calling you every day. Then you can focus on finding a job, I heard they have a youth program you'd still-”

“I'm sorry,” Ernest manages to wobble out, a big lump in his throat as the tears burn.

“What?” Pop's voice turns all anxious and concerned, which hurts even worse. “Hey, kiddo, it's alright. You don't have to be sorry. I know you were trying your best, it's really tough when you're starting out alone-”

“I'm so sorry,” Ernest hiccups, covering his face with his hand as he snots. “I can't pay you back and I probably never will and I'm gonna have to put Dad in a nursing home with cockroaches because they just slashed teacher pensions again and everything is so fucked /forever./”

“Ernest, Ernest, listen to me,” Pop's voice strains against the weak receiver of his phone. “Nothing is fucked, okay? No one's mad at you. We'll fix this, I promise. Ernest?”

It's a rough month, for sure. Pop comes to visit. Him and Dad have been really good at not-bitching-at-each-other since he crossed that adulthood threshold. Maybe it was child support that made them fight after all. Pop used to get these little digs into dad, telling him to quit and go into something with a future. Maybe him and money are just cursed or something.

He loses it again when they hug him at the same time. He's only gotten those at graduations and he's all out of those now. “We would do anything and everything for you, do you hear me?” Dad is halfway out of his lawn chair, the three of them on the back porch, having borrowed a little barbecue from Brian. “I'd rather have you here than starving in some apartment somewhere. Everything's going to be fine, mijo. I promise.”

“I'll bring you down for a visit whenever you want.” Pop assures him as he's leaving, hugging him again. It's so weird that he's taller than him now. “If you want to move, I'll help. But honestly, you might be better off here for a bit. Rent is going crazy in the city and it's not worth it.”

“How does a couple hours' drive make such a huge difference?” Ernest sniffs, shuffling in the driveway.

“I mean, I could explain but it's really boring.” He smiles and ruffles his hair. “You'll be alright, kiddo. Don't worry so much, okay?” Easier said than done, but it's well-meant. He accepts it.

He does qualify for extra help at the employment place, but unfortunately he has a humanities degree, which means no marketable skills. Which means part-time at the small bougie grocery store downtown, which is in fact a hell of a lot better than nothing.

“Excuse me.” An older woman clutching a plastic handbag strolls up to him while he's stocking shelves. “Do you have any of those sweet honey mustards?”

“No ma'am, sorry. We ran out.”

She narrows her beady eyes at him. “Why?”

Most of the time.

Carmensita's doing pretty well for herself between the Coffee Spoon and her piano lessons. Not move-into-her-own-place good, but she's got a nice little loft space over the shop. Sick prints up all over the walls, those fairy lights she's always liked, her keyboard set up beside her computer desk all tidy for when the kids come by. Ernest spends his off-hours googling potential side-hustles and making music for the first time in a while.

“-Practically everybody's stressed, yes!” Ernest snaps his fingers with one hand and runs his beats with the other. “But they press through the mess, bounce cheques, and wonder what's next!”

“In the heights! I buy my coffee and I go,” Carmensita sings clear as anything, laying into her keys. “Set my sights on only what I need to know...”

“Girl, how'd you get so good at that? Damn,” Ernest shakes his head after they stop recording. “It's like Mandy Gonzalez was right here.”

“Vocal coaching, son!” Carmensita grins, sticking out her thumb and pinky finger and twisting her wrist. “Taught me how to sing from the diaphraaaaaaagm.”

Ernest cracks up at the low note she hits, spinning around in her chair and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling. “Hey, do you ever feel bad for being happy? Like, you're not supposed to be, or something?”

“Hell yeah, all the time,” Carmensita stretches, laying out on her secondhand piano bench and popping her back. “Like if I'm having a good day I get thinking, 'oh but if I was at X point, I could be doing Y.' I think I'm scared I'll get complacent or something.”

“Yeah,” Ernest sits up, catching his feet on the carpet. “But like, I don't know how long our whole generation's gonna be stuck like this. So if we can't enjoy this...”

“Oof, heavy stuff.” Carmensita swats at the bag of mini Oreos until he passes it to her, grabbing a handful himself. “This isn't so bad though. Who knows, maybe we'll look back with nostalgia goggles and miss it.”

“Yeah.” He settles back in the chair, toying with the music program on his aging laptop. “Maybe.”

Carmensita sits up, tugging her off-the-shoulder t-shirt back down where it had ridden up on her belly. “Wanna eat pot brownies and watch Bebop again?”

Ernest scoffs. “Is that even a question?”

By the time Pablo and Lucien come down for Thanksgiving Part One (there's always cliffhanger holidays with divorced parents, but it's not so bad anymore, it's just a part of it), his life has a routine. He's too grown to resent 'being another cog in the machine' in any significant way. Predictable income and free time is a blessing and a half and he's not giving it up unless he works his way up to something real good. Which will take time, and energy, and so, so much luck.

But right now he's got a favourite lunch and does his share of the chores (cleaning Damien's weird house only seems daunting, it just takes a lot of furniture polish and a big-ass feather duster). He sees his Pop as often as he can with him jetting all over the continent, texting when they're in different time zones and laughing about stupid coworker stories (his Pop's are more maddening, apparently higher salaries don't strain out the truly incompetent, somehow that's comforting, too).

He can pay for Coffee Spoon bagels now, coming to Carmensita's aid during lulls in her shifts. Both their schedules are pretty regular, so they exchange barely a message or two before coming to see each other at certain points in the week. With what pocket money they do have, they get concert tickets once or twice, go ice skating, and buy fries at the mall, wandering around the stores after dark and trying to pick out new versions of themselves. Mostly they just go home with small things they don't need and pricey chocolate bars they split. When she gets wicked cramps, he hits her up with aspirin and movies they've seen ten times. When he can't get out of bed, she sends him memes and cute dog videos.

Dad and Damien are gross as per usual, but they're also way less nosy than they used to be. It's weird to just take off for the day or night without any further questions. Though coming back is a different story.

“I got your text,” Hugo leans out of the study (yes, they have one, of course they do) when he hears Ernest's sock feet shuffling up the hallway. “What happened?”

“I don't know,” Ernest shrugs, unbuttoning his uniform shirt. “A sewer main burst while they were working on the parking lot. The fire department scooted everyone out of there pretty quick, it smelled awful. I had better get paid for the full shift.”

“You have a right to, you weren't the one driving the backhoe.” His dad grins, re-shelving a book before shutting the door. “On the bright side, unexpected free time is always a bonus.”

“It sure is, and I'm gonna use it to take a well-deserved nap.”

“Oh.” A beat while he fixes his expression. “Okay, I'll record that documentary for you.”

Ernest turns, hand on the ornate doorframe. “Is that on today?” Hugo's eager nod goes right between his ribs and he smiles. “Nah, I'll watch it with you. Naps mess up my sleep schedule anyway, make me all cranky in the morning.”

“As opposed to any other morning?”

“Rude,” he snorts while his dad chuckles. “I'll be down in a minute, okay? Just gotta get changed and stuff.”

“Okay.” Not five minutes into changing and checking his email, he gets a text.

HV: You want to order in for dinner? Two-for-one at the pizza place

HV: We can get those chicken bite things, I have a coupon :)

Ernest laughs, oddly reminded of coming home to Duchess after high school sleepovers. He sends a quick 'sure dad,' and takes some of his recycling down. They spend the evening in their boxers on the couch in the den, three of the four hairless cats Damien had adopted when they came through the shelter (he didn't last long post-Duchess once he had a taste of pet ownership) snuggled up beside and on top of them. It's not their first or last night spent this way.

He does quietly scream to the heavens at the mere suggestion of a girlfriend. “I'm a cashier- oh, sorry, 'customer service associate.' All I've got to offer someone right now is pocket lint and my winning personality.”

“But that is precisely what you should be offering in a relationship!” Damien insists, winding black tinsel up the staircase while Ernest does the same on the other side. “If wealth was a prerequisite, only the rich would fall in love.”

“I don't need to be rich, but I do need a little something to put in my dating profile, you know?” He's already down a few pegs courtesy of his 'no sex for me please' sexuality, but he won't bring that up now. Tis the season, and all that.

“You have much to include! You are in possession of many fine qualities,” Damien smiles at him, looking less vampire and more nerd with his hair up in a bun and his glasses on. His outfit is like Dickens and Mary Shelley had a weird baby, though. “Your father and I just think it would be nice if you had someone special in your life, that's all. We're not pressuring you to bring someone home for the holidays.”

“Well, that's appreciated,” Ernest ties off the tinsel, zipping up his hoodie again. What did thermostats ever do to fathers, anyway? “I'm just kind focusing on me right now. I'll get in a relationship when I'm in a better spot.”

“Ah, that is fair,” Damien grabs another handful of tinsel for the top banisters. “But love can happen upon you when you least expect it. Such was the case for me both times.”

Ernest had never decided if Damien getting sappy about his dead husband or his very-alive husband who is also Ernest's dad was worse, they might tie for first place.

EHV: Plz never let me become this gross n sentimental when I'm old plz

LB: You cry at Hamilton now and you've seen it so many fing times

EHV: ELIZA DESERVED BETTER GDI DON'T START W ME

CS: I WILL CRY AT ITS QUIET UPTOWN UNTIL THE DAY I DIE FIGHT ME SCRUB

EHV: YEAH THAT'S RIGHT

LB: Oh ffs I forgot this was the groupchat

Speaking of awkward sad times, this year's holidays are busy and bright and not as rushed as last year where he could barely visit anyone for more than a couple hours, but the same anniversary comes around. He's celebrating a third Christmas up at Damien's parents place over New Year's weekend, laughing it up while everyone is maybe too drunk, but he has a sixth sense when that text buzzes in.

CS: I wish missing someone didn't hurt so much :(

EHV: I know <3

CS: Dad's sad, but he's got Julian now

CS: I'm just by myself up in my old room, they're asleep already

EHV: Aw, shit. Do you want me to call you?

CS: No, you're with family. I'm fine

EHV: Everyone is tipsy and Dad is losing at trivial pursuit

CS: Okay then yes please <3

He makes his first appearance at open mic night in the cold and crisp new year. One technical glitch makes him nearly piss himself but it otherwise goes okay. Carmensita sings right after him, her dad on guitar and it's so frickin' good.

“God, you guys are so cool,” he says afterwards, spinning a bottle of Windex around his finger and taking Wild West-style aim at the glass in front of the baked goods.

“Glad I've still got it,” Mat grins, going back to counting the money. “You should do more of these, everyone was super into it. There's another place that does really good open mics out in the boonies, it's a cafe-arthouse thing.”

“You think so?” Ernest had immediately repressed all memory of his performance upon leaving the stage, it was a good coping technique.

“We should start a YouWatch channel!” Carmensita exclaims, as if for the first time, though she's been bugging him for weeks. “We'll do covers to get the subs, then post our own stuff! I bet we could get sponsors!”

“Mister Sella,” Ernest says very seriously. “Are you aware that your daughter is selling out to the man?”

'Sita hits him with a broom, but he does decide to take the leap. Not like starting a channel takes a lot of upfront capital investment, exactly. They do pool money for one good mic, and figure they'll work their way up if it turns out to be worth it. They pick songs from their early teens to indulge their own and others' guilty pleasure fix, and they do weird remixes of things that aren't songs, and he convinces Carmensita to do tag videos. It's fun, and some people like it. Not a ton, but hey, maybe someday.

They only complain on days they're not recording, not wanting to wreck their voices. This time they're slumped on Ernest's bed, him whinging continuously after his first attempt at online dating ended in utter failure, therefore he should give up and never try again, right? Less money on dating, more money to eventually adopt dogs?

“Ernest, I want you to try something.” Carmensita reaches over and covers his eyes, her voice only a little exasperated. “Envision what you want in a relationship. Dad taught me this, I used it to figure out where I wanted to go for college.”

“Okay. Does it work, or is it some hokey bullshit?”

“Quit being rude and humour me, dammit.”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, feeling her well-manicured thumb jab his cheek. He wets his lips while he thinks for a moment. “Uh, I wanna be with someone who's funny and nice, fun to be around.”

“Okay, can we get a little more depth than that?”

“Give me a second here, woman,” he snorts. “I want- someone who's chill, who likes some of the stuff I like- not everything, but we gotta have stuff to do together, you know?” Carmensita hums. “I want- I really want someone I can build a future with. I don't wanna just play around, y'know? I want someone responsible- heh, maybe not too responsible. But someone I can trust, someone I can see myself having kids with.”

“Woah, you want kids-plural now?”

“Well not a whole bunch, but two would be nice. They can play with each other- anyway,” Ernest gulps, strangely caught up in the thought process. “I want someone who when I look at her- I just want all the good stuff in the world for her. She's going places and she's talented- I want someone who I really get, who gets me back. When people talk about marrying their best friend, that's- that's what I want. Someone who- accepts me, and we can be ourselves around each other, always.”

They're quiet a moment, Carmensita's hand still on his face. She takes it away slowly and smiles softly. “So, you want what you have with me, but with kissing?”

Ernest blanks for a solid thirty seconds before raising his finger. “Okay, first of all, when did you get so smooth?”

Carmensita laughs, loud and cute, sweeping some loose curls off her forehead and looking at him with these eyes- he's never seen her look at him like that until now. Or maybe he was just that clueless. “Is that really all you want to ask me?”

Ernest swallows, loud enough to hear it, sitting up a little straighter. “Can I- kiss you?”

“I don't know, can you?”

He groans outright, dropping his head on her shoulder while she giggles. “One of these days, 'Sita, one of these days.”

She smells really nice this close, maybe it's her shampoo? It's damn good, whatever it is. Her hands end up on his shoulders, not pressing, just holding him. He lifts his head and god, that little moment of eye contact before they both lean forward-

First kisses are not usually perfect, but he's willing to call this one close enough. She's warm and soft beneath his lips. His arms slip around her waist and it's like she was made to fit against him. He outright sighs when they part, kissing her nose just to hear her laugh again.

“Are you-” He can't quite find his words right now, his mind cycling through all the new and so very nice stimuli his senses are taking in. Carmensita's always been beautiful to him but he never thought, never let himself- “Do you- are you sure you wanna do this? I can't- I really like you, but I don't think I'll ever be able to do the physical stuff. You deserve-”

She presses a finger to his lips and he silences himself immediately, distracted by the light of her eyes. “There's nothing I want that online shopping with discreet shipping can't provide. None of that 'you deserve better' crap. I want you, if you want me back, then we should keep kissing and see where it takes us.”

Ernest works his jaw for a few moments, then nods. “Yeah, I can get behind that train of thought.”

Carmensita's laugh as he pulls her in for more smooches is the sweetest sound he's ever heard.

They end up cuddling up and falling asleep together- hahaha an asexual sleeping with someone on the first date, hahaha, puns and stuff -a bonus of neither of them having morning shifts the next day and Carmensita not having anyone expecting her back at home. He wakes up before she does, spooned up behind her, all their clothes rumpled, the blankets cocooned around them. He kisses the nape of her neck and sighs. He feels content, for the first time in a while.

The softest of knocks precedes the door creaking open. “Hey, Ernest, do you want- /oh/.”

The door shuts quickly, rousing Carmensita and making Ernest groan. “So much for keeping quiet about it.”

“Were we going to?” She yawns, sitting up and stretching. “Also, I'm bringing my silk pillowcases or we're only sleeping at my place. How do you live like this?”

“I dunno, I'm a mess.” He laughs and sits up, a tentative hand on her back. “I just- I'm scared. We've been friends for so long, I don't want to risk it going badly.”

“But if we don't risk it going badly, we also don't risk it going well.” She clumsily boops his nose, smiling dopily at him. “Guess which outcome I have my money on?”

“Girl, what money?” He laughs when she jabs him in the stomach. He leans in for a kiss after a moment, realizing that they can do that now, and smooches her cheek gladly. “So, if the Dads know, that means we're officially an 'us.'”

“We are.” She grins and kisses his cheek back. “I like being an us, it's pretty great so far.”

“It is.” He grins back, feeling like he can't stop. Shit, it's really happening. Is he in love? Is that an okay word to use after literally one very unexpected day? Probably not out loud.

He walks her downstairs, and they whisper-laugh a few walk-of-shame jokes before she heads out in her poofy pink coat, leaving him alone with the giddy feeling in his gut. In the dining room, Dad and Damien are doing maybe the worst acting job he's ever seen. “Are you two gonna make a big deal out of this?”

“Make a big deal out of what?” Damien inquires with convincing innocence, frying pan and spatula in hand.

“Yes, is there something we should make a big deal out of?” Hugo smiles, legitimately doing the newspaper crossword like he's a goddamn cartoon character.

Ernest sighs and drops into his chair, accepting several pancakes from Damien. “We literally just started- dating, I guess. No wedding bells, no grandbabies, nothing crazy yet, so please relax.”

“You know we're not like that.”

“Certainly, I'm not my mother.” Damien chuckles, almost unconsciously rubbing Hugo's robe-covered arm while they eat. So gross, but also goals.

“But, out of curiosity,” Hugo teasingly elbows him. “Did you kiss her yet?”

The dads laugh while Ernest howls. He'd text his Pop for backup, but he will get the exact same shit in different wording. He pulls out his phone and texts Lucien instead.

EHV: Hey Carmensita and I are dating just FYI

LB: About gd time, you've been heart eyes at her for literal years

CS: What

CS: Lucien why would you not tell me this

CS: I COULD HAVE SAVED SO MUCH TIME >:(

EHV: Oh shit group chat again

LB: Let's rename these things plz

EHV: Sorry babe <3

CS: Np hon ;*

LB: And here I am, third wheeling it again

EHV: You are basically married stfu

LB: That does not make this better

CS: Ladies ladies, you're both pretty

EHV: Sita knows whats uppppp

LB: Finishing BNHA this weekend y/n?  

CS: Y, obvs

EHV: Also Y, I'm off at 7 don't watch ahead

LB: Don't walk so slow and we won't

EHV: Eat a dick

CS: G2g, love you guys

EHV: Love ya too

LB: <3

LB: Also, straaaaaaaaaaight

EHV: Fuckin really dude

LB: Someone has to

LB: Tell Dad I'm coming for dinner tonight

EHV: Will do, bye weeb

LB: Cya loser

#sinunamor #dream daddy #dream daddy hc #ddadds #ernest hemingway vega #carmensita sella #ernestsita

[blesspastacraig]

Sixteen (SP Drabble Bomb Day 1 - Decade)

Here’s my offering for the @spdrabblebomb prompt decade!

Predominantly Craig focused but there’s some light Creek.

Just a story about Craig and all his Stripes throughout the years.

On ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765684/chapters/34146584

Drabble Track - Sixteen - Lucy Camp

I Don't Wanna Be Sixteen Again I’m Just Nostalgic

Craig has been a keen owner of Guinea pigs since age eight. He used to hang around the pet store while his mother ran errands a couple of stores down. He’d place his chubby little hands on the glass and peer in at them as they waddled around the cage going about their day. He wanted one more than he wanted the new season of Red Racer on DVD or maybe, even more than he wanted a telescope, to look up at the stars.

But his Parents said no, both to the Guinea pig and the telescope. They said that he was too young to be responsible for either of them. That didn’t stop him from asking, though. He begged almost every day for a year, and on his eighth birthday, his tired parents finally gave in.

He woke up to find a small cage in the middle of their living room with a tiny, squeaking fluffball inside. An all-black baby with only a singular white stripe across its nose. Craig was almost too scared to pick the baby up: what if he broke it? He remembered the instructions from one of the books on Guinea pig care he read religiously, in an effort to try and convince his parents that he was responsible enough to take care of one. He gently picked up the baby, making sure all four legs and its bottom were supported before he nestled it to his chest.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” He asked.

It is, in fact, a girl. Craig and his family find that out for sure when Craig peers into her cage one day to see Stripe (Craig wasn’t very creative with names), and two smaller Stripes wheeking up at him for breakfast.

Craig has to cover his mouth to stop himself from shrieking with excitement. (Loud noises scare Guinea pigs, one of the many things he recently learnt about them.)

He goes bounding down the stairs from his bedroom into the kitchen to where his mother’s packing their school lunches for the day.

“Stripe had babies, Mom!” It’s the most animated Craig’s sounded in a good while. Well, probably since he got Stripe, at the very least.

“She what?”

“She had two babies! Look!” Craig excitedly grabs her hand with his own little one and tugs. Laura Tucker obliges, bewildered that her son’s Guinea pig has somehow managed to multiply.

(When they call the pet shop they got Stripe from, they get a bored teenager who tells them that it’s hard to tell when a Guinea pig is pregnant. Thomas and Laura know there’s no way they can take Stripe back for a refund now. Craig is attached.)

That afternoon, Craig borrows a book about caring for Guinea Pig babies at the library. He decides to name the babies “Stripe #2” and “Stripe #3”, and his parents give up on any idea of giving them away.

All three (all girls, by some kind of freak of nature) die suddenly and together not long after Craig has turned ten. Craig strongly suspects foul play, but he can’t prove it. His parents blame it on the temperature, but Craig doesn’t buy it.

All he can do is try not to cry about it in front of his friends, lest they label him a crybaby like Clyde. According to all the books he immersed himself in after becoming a Guinea pig owner, two years isn’t a particularly long life for a Guinea pig, and that makes him very sad. For all he could see, they were just happy, furry goofballs who had never done anything wrong in their short lives.

Why did his pets have to die? Why couldn’t it have been someone else’s, someone who didn’t care as much? Or why couldn’t they at least have been older? It doesn’t feel right or fair.

Despite the fact that Craig called him a crybaby countless times, Clyde still comes over and helps him make drawings to mark their graves. Clyde later takes those drawings and gets them laminated for Craig, so they’ll still be there after the rain.

Craig doesn’t call Clyde a crybaby again after that.

Craig starts dating Tweek before deciding to get a new Guinea pig. He hadn’t meant to; they’re only ten and have no idea what they’re doing, but it seems to make everyone around them happy. Tweek’s not so bad himself, not really, it’s nice to be spending so much time with someone he genuinely likes and doesn’t feel like he needs to impress all the time. Craig discovers that’s one upside to dating Tweek instead of girls. Girls seem to have these expectations of him that he could never hope to meet. He’s supposed to not play in the dirt? No way! At least Tweek is there, playing in the muck with him, which is much more fun in his opinion.

Tweek knows Craig is sad about Stripe and her babies. So sad that he hasn’t even thrown away their cage or any of their toys. Craig is pretty sure that his parents aren’t going to let him have another one anyway. Tweek is nice to him about it, though. He takes Craig to the movies, and offers him his leftover fries when they go to McDonalds afterwards. He holds his hand a lot, which is more helpful than Craig expected.

When they head past the pet store, Tweek stops, and they both end up hovering out front for a few crucial seconds. “Can we look?” Tweek asks, and Craig shrugs.

Tweek wants to look at Guinea pigs. Craig tries not to fall in love with a particular tricolour—one with a white stripe across their nose.

“Do you like that one?” Tweek asks him. “I want to get you -nnn- one you like.”

“You want to get me what?” Craig frowns. There’s no way his Mom will just let him bring home another Guinea pig.

“I’ve been saving up… you seemed so -ah- sad. Your Mom and Dad said I could. As long as I got a boy.”

“Oh,” Craig says, dumbly. “I like that one, yeah.”

He doesn’t say thank you in words—but in the way he holds Tweek’s hand the whole way home.

Craig comes home with his first boy Guinea pig in a cardboard box. There won’t be any surprise babies this time, but Craig is sure both he and Tweek can be enough to entertain Stripe #4.

Stripe #4 passes when Craig and Tweek are teenagers. Just on the cusp of making their relationship more real, more genuine. Not just two little kids play-dating because that’s what they saw their parents do. At least Craig has had the label ‘gay’ slapped on him since he was ten, so he doesn’t feel so weird about wanting to kiss Tweek for real.

Craig has braces, and Tweek is a little chubby around the middle, but Craig figures at least they can go through their awkward stage together.

The vet suspects cancer, which is very common in rodents, and Craig is inclined to agree. Tweek promises over and over that it was nothing Craig did and that even the best care can’t prevent something like cancer. Craig still feels guilty anyway. Tweek bought Stripe #4 for him, and Craig hasn’t kept him alive very long at all. Five years is a good run, but this Stripe had only gotten to have four.

Craig makes Stripe #4 a marker for his grave in woodwork, and Tweek lovingly bedazzles it. They add it to the Guinea pig cemetery in Laura’s flower beds and sit in silence as a tribute. Craig rests his head on Tweek’s shoulder, and Tweek holds him close so that any nosy neighbors won’t see him cry.

When they decide to get Stripe #5 (there’s no discussion on what he will be named), they go together. They also pay together, half and half - it feels weirdly adult. Craig feels like it’s a commitment even if they’re only fifteen and clueless. Their only condition is that they have to get a boy again: Craig’s parents are still scarred from the surprise baby debacle and will not chance a girl ever again.

“That one looks like he has hat hair!” Tweek exclaims, pointing to a small boy with black and white fur, a white stripe along his nose, and an impressive-looking crest. Craig doesn’t correct him regarding the crest, and instead laughs along with him.

“He looks small,” Craig says. “Do you think he’s okay?”

“I think he’ll be just fine if someone who really -hnn- cares takes him home with them,” Tweek replies, knowingly. After nearly five years together, Tweek can read him like a damn book, and Craig has a love-hate relationship with that fact.

“Okay then,” Craig says. “I want him then, if you do?”

Tweek does, although he argues on the way home that they should have named him Pepe Le Pew.

At eighteen, ten years after he set his eyes on Stripe #1 in all her glory, Craig and Tweek have a huge decision to make. Sure, applying for colleges and choosing your future is super hard, but for Craig the most agonising part is deciding what to do with Stripe #5. He’s three years old, and as far as Craig can tell, he’s perfectly healthy and thriving. He’s doubled in size since they first brought him home as a tiny runt who could fit nicely in Craig’s palm. They could take him along, but that would mean they’d have to find a pet-friendly apartment. Living on campus would also be completely ruled out. It narrows their accommodation options by a lot.

Craig thinks maybe it might be better if they leave him behind. Craig and Tweek could always come back to visit him during their holidays - Craig’s bedroom in South Park is all he really knows, and Craig isn’t sure that it would be kind to move him somewhere else potentially hours away.

When Tricia offers to take him, Craig breathes a secret sigh of relief.

He feels, in an odd way, he’s passing the baton to her. Maybe she’ll become as avid a Guinea pig lover as him. Maybe in the future, Craig and Tweek will get another Guinea pig once they’ve finished college and have a place all their own.

That doesn’t mean Craig still doesn’t shed a tear as he and Tweek bundle their things into Tweek’s hand-me-down car. Tweek holds his hand over the console as they drive away, without their beloved Stripe #5.

#south park drabble bomb #sp creek #craig tucker/tweek tweak #craig tucker #tweek tweak #south park #spdrabblebomb

[everlarkficexchange]

Battle Scars

Writen by: @jrheartbreaker

Prompt 36: Katniss and Peeta are friends on the verge of more. Katniss or Peeta is hesitant to take the next step until something tragic happens to the other (just not death) that pushes them to realize their feelings and commit. [submitted by @ra3lynn3]

TRIGGER WARNING!!

CONTAINS VIOLENCE AND RAPE.

Battle Scars

“Katniss! It’s the Prom. You’re telling me you really don’t want to go?” Prim asks me.

It’s hard to believe my little sister Primrose is in the 9th grade. It feels like only yesterday that she was in diapers. She’s quite popular at school. Practically everyone falls in love with her right away. Because of her naturally sweet disposition, her beautiful long, blonde hair, and her radiant, azure eyes. Not to mention her sense of humor. She is, by far, my best friend and my favorite person in the world. But we are opposite in so many ways.

“Prim, who would I go with? Gale has already graduated, and he’s going with Madge to Aspen this weekend.”

Gale is my other best friend. Most people think he’s my brother or cousin. He’s two years older than me. I’m a senior this year, which is why my kid sister, who would kill to go to any party, is trying to force into a Prom dress and heels.

I can’t wait to be out of school.

Gale’s olive complexion, brown hair and grey eyes that match my own, are the main reason everyone thinks we we’re related. Even more than that, we share the same temperament, love of outdoors, and being the oldest child in single parent families. I feel at one point, it was probably expected by our families, that we’d fall madly in love, but we could never be more than friends. He started dating Madge Undersee about 4 months ago and I’ve never seen him happier.

“Would you even have gone with Gale? Maybe he’ll put off Aspen-“

“No Prim. I don’t know why this is such a big deal to you.” I cut her off before she can suggest ruining his plans.

Madge’s great, considering her father is the Mayor and she comes from Oprah money. Gale’s mom, Hazelle Hawthorne, both of his younger brothers, Rory and Victor, Prim and I are so happy for Gale. He’s finally with someone who can put out some of his fire, when need be. Even his 7 year old, baby sister, Posy, likes Madge. Posy’s not easily won over, but a very good judge of character.

“Well, you should go… I may have even flirted with a teachers aid to procure a dress for you.” Prim states crossing her arms and sighing.

“Primrose Lilac Everdeen. What on God’s green earth are you talking about?” I question.

Where did she get a dress?

“I borrowed one from the drama’s costume department that’s just your size. Please don’t be mad… I think there’s a boy who wants to go with you, too. This guy, who I‘m pretty sure I’ve seen staring at you before, stopped Rory and I walking home the other day and asked us if I was your sister. Anyway, he was asking him to ask me. And… if you have a date to Prom! Maybe he’s gonna ask you today.” Prim squeals.

He’s probably a creeper.

She should’ve called the police.

Even if he’s not…

“I don’t want my baby sister setting me up on a date.”

“I’m technically not. But, Katniss, he’s gorgeous, blond and blue eyed, and he had on a letterman’s jacket. I don’t know him that well, but Rory does. He said he’s a really nice guy. You should give him a chance.” She says, her eyes pleading with me.

“Prim, seriously? The dance is tomorrow and I don’t have any shoes. My hair-”

“I got 20 bucks. From babysitting Posy for Hazelle last weekend… and I’ll do your hair. Come on Kat.” She whines.

Ugh, She’s giving me no outs.

“Prim you can’t use your money on me.”

“Sissy you deserve this. Mom works all the time; which leaves you here to help me with my homework, dinner every night, and you always have just enough money to get anything I need. Whether it’s supplies for projects, dance classes, or new cheerleading outfits. You’ve even magically provided me with lunch money we didn’t have, when I cried like a brat, because it wasn’t cool to have a boxed lunch anymore. You’ve given up every other school dance and so many extracurricular activity for me.”

Her voice starts quivering her eyes well up, but she pushes on. “ Please let me do this for you. Cause one day… after you move to L.A., becoming a famous singer/song writer, I won’t have many opportunities to make up for all you’ve done for me.”

Great now I’m gonna cry.

“Oh, Little Duck, you’re so sweet. I do all of those things for you because… I’m your big sister, and I love you. Thank you for believing in me, but I’m probably not going to be famous, Prim. Plus, who says I’m moving to L.A.?” I counter.

How could she know!?

“I saw the brochure and expectance letter under your bed for the Arts Academy in Hollywood. Aren’t you excited?” She asks sniffling and wiping her eyes.

“Prim, why were you? How… I’m not going there. I mean, I haven’t decided… it would be too far and it’s not even a full scholarship…”

“Katniss, you are mad talented, so stop. Stop doubting yourself. We could figure it out. Plus, your songs need to be heard. They make me feel like I could do, anything. Become anything or anyone I want. Not just some poor, fatherless girl, with a dead dad and a slightly distant mom, from Wildomar, California.”

“Okay, Sis, I’ll think about going to school The Arts Academy, but I don’t think I’m gonna go to Pro-”

“No buts… Don’t say it. You’re going to Prom, whether that guy asks you or not. That’s the end of it. I love you.” She insists, hugging me.

I drive us to school in my beat up 92’ F250 truck that barely runs. I got it from Gale. After he graduated, his mom got him a 70’ Chevelle off Craig’s List for $600.

It took him all of his summer job money, but he restored it. He painted it orange with black racing stripes. I told him he drives a Dukes of Hazzard car. Even though I later found out that car was called, The General Lee, and had a pretty inappropriate flag on the roof. He laughed at me for getting the car models confused. Either way I still call the Chevelle, Daisy, the character Jessica Simpson played in The Dukes of Hazzard movie. Gale says his car’s name is, Peaches McGee, which sounds like a country stripper’s name to me. Prim and I call the F250, Colby, since it’s a faded cobalt blue.

After dropping Prim in front of school, I park. I contemplate what I’ll make for dinner tonight since I know mom hasn’t gone grocery shopping, and we don’t get more food stamps till the first of the month. At least the rent money is in the bank. But that leaves me pretty cash poor. Grabbing my messenger bag out of the seat beside me, I head over to my friends. My main squad consists of friends I’ve mostly known since elementary school.

Annabelle Cresta and Finnick Odair are the it couple at school, probably in our district. Annie, as we call her, is as beautiful on the inside as she is out with green eyes and curly auburn hair. Finnick, who is both gorgeous and charming as hell, has green eyes, and seemingly always perfectly coifed, bronze hair. He’s like a tanner, funnier, Twilight vampire.

We have bets on if they will get married right out of high school or get pregnant before graduation because we all know they’ve been secretly in love with each other since 5th grade and they can’t keep their hands off each other. He finally got the nerve to ask her out in 9th grade. To his dismay, she said no like 80 times… even though I know for a fact; she used to doodle Mrs. Odair in all of her notebooks.

I think she said no just to make him sweat… and possibly to get back at him for flirting so shamelessly. Finnick used to tell us he would always be single, so he basically hit on anything moving, in a skirt and never actually exclusively dated a girl. But Annie told me once that he was over compensating. That it was all an act, because he thought he would get crap from other guys, for liking just one girl. When she finally said yes she would go out with him, she made him wait three more months before she let him kiss her. Serves him right. He’s been attached to her hip ever since.

Cordelia Cartwright and Thomas Mason Jr. is also a major cute couple. Delly, as she prefers to be called, is a sweetheart, but she doesn’t take crap from anybody. She used to be chubby in middle school… but one day, she showed up to school a total knock out, curves in all the right places. Her new body, blonde curls and crystal blue eyes must be Thom’s weaknesses, because he fell hard and fast for Dells.

Thom has light brown skin, hazel eyes and curly brown hair. He looks like his older sister Johanna Mason, who graduated with Gale but got pregnant and moved back home last year to have her baby boy. Thom and Delly are smitten with each other. They plan on trying the long distance thing while in college.

Bart Latier III and Wiress Hawkins… Hmm. They’re a couple. I think. They refer to each other as “lab partners” but… I know BeeTee likes Wiress, a lot. You can tell by the way he laughs at all her jokes, stares at her and walks her to all of her classes.

I even saw him once; while in conversation, in the middle of a sentence, take off her glasses, huff on them, wipe them on his shirt and put them back on her face. He didn’t even pause in his explanation of the Pythagorean theorem to Thom. She just looked at him and blinked a few times, and then went back to reading war and Peace.

Suffice it to say, both are brown eyed, brown haired, very smart, very cute, kinda nerdy, but very loyal friends.

I say what’s up to my crew when I reach them. We usually hang out in the parking lot until right before the bell rings.

Thresh Tillage, Blight Harris, and Marvel Gladstone, a few of the football hotties, is in the parking lot too. I consider them good guys and friends. But, Ugh, Glimmer and Clove, whom I don’t consider friends at all, are hanging all over those guys.

Glimmer Gladstone is Marvel’s little sister. She’s two grades below us and has always been a leggy, severely blessed on top, potential Pantene Pro-V hair commercial… bitch. Most guys fall all over themselves to talk to her, and she knows it. But she’s mean as an old, mangy cat. She doesn’t discriminate either. She’s mean to girls, to guys… to old people, little kids. Hell, she probably tortures, small animals… like a serial killer.

Her bestie “for like… ever”, Clove Fields, is just as evil but the exact opposite physically. Clove has darker features and she’s petite with no chest. Which probably fuels her perpetual bitterness. They wear skimpy clothes; too much makeup to be so young… and they think boys are meant to be their slaves.

“Hey uh… Katniss?” I hear from my right.

Huh?

Peeta Mellark pulls me out of my thoughts. He has to be the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. Always opening doors for people. Always smiling. He brings freshly baked muffins to his teachers. Not just to get good grades, either. I heard he volunteers to read books at a children’s hospital, in the cancer and burn units. Peeta’s good at art and wrestling and he’s also a football player. He’s pretty much the hottest guy I know, but doesn’t act like he knows it.

His dad owns the closest bakery (hence the bread name) and he has two older brothers who have already graduated. Peeta’s eyes, some of the prettiest blue eyes (only topped by Prim’s) that I’ve ever seen, frustratingly throw me off balance. I don’t usually get this affected by any boys. He doesn’t usually say all that much to me. So I can ignore any disturbance in the force, normally.

Even if I wish he would.

Stop just… staring at him, spaz.

Say something, duh.

“Hi Peeta, how are you?” I ask.

“Umm, good… Hi… I mean… I’m great how ‘bout you?”

Gosh, he’s cute when he’s nervous.

He runs a hand through his wavy blond locks. The other hand is pulling at his book bag strap. He looks and me at smiles.

“Hi Peeta!” Glimmer waves at him from behind us.

Skank, crack-whore.

Peeta waves at Glimmer, quickly. Then he turns back to me. I laugh because behind her, Finnick is making faces at me. Annie smacks his arm.

“I’m good too, but the bell is gonna ring soon. Let’s walk and talk okay?” I suggest and grab Peeta by the letterman jacket, pulling him towards our first period class.

Peeta and I have most of the same classes. He probably just needs my notes.

“Okay. I think you… uh… are really, NICE, Katniss. You… we have class together. And you’re really smart.” Peeta says.

We stop walking. I let go of his jacket. He glances down, possibly at my bag. So I guess this is about class notes. Then out of nowhere…

“Everdeen. Baby. You’re killing me. Why you look so sexy in those jeans? You should get locked up for looking so damn good in those jeans. You know that?” Cato Johnson says stepping in my path.

What?

Cato seems to be talking to me, and, well, hitting on me. I look at Peeta, who looks just as shocked as I am, but shrugs and looks down again. So I turn back to Cato.

Cato isn’t a friend or an enemy. He’s just a guy who most people would call popular and easy on the eyes. He’s so tall and buff for his age; he looks like an undercover narc. He also happens to be captain of the football team. Typical jock.

Never really talked to the guy. We have some classes together. I heard a rumor that a girl got caught hunching with him in the teachers lounge once in 10th grade. But there’s so much gossip at this school, you never know what’s real and not real. Cato would be attractive if it weren’t for his ego.

“What do you want? And why are you using those tired ass lines on me, Johnson?” I shoot at him.

I hear a couple of, ooohs and aw mans, in the background. Along with some chucking from my friends who just walked up. A little crowd is forming.

Crap, I don’t need an audience to egg whatever this is on.

“Kat? Why you gotta cut me down, in front of everyone? I think you are the bomb-dot-com.” He says all Rico Suave like.

Cue over exaggerated eye roll.

Cato grabs one of my hands and puts it on his chest feigning heartbreak. This kind of stuff happens all day. Just not usually to me.

"Okay. I’ll bite. What do you want?” I say squinting my eyes at him.

He must’ve lost a bet or something.

“Just what I said. I like you Everdeen. You’re cool and sexy. I want to take you out.” He sounds crazily sincere.

What the hell is going on here?

I feel like I’m being punk’d.

Where’s Ashton Kutcher?

“You wanna take… ME? Out? Where?” I ask stupefied.

“How, bout… to Prom?” Cato says, smiling from ear to ear.

Ho-ly Crap.

Is he the boy Prim was talking about?

She wasn’t making it up.

Holy Crap.

“Uh, uh… to prom? With you to…” I start.

“To-morrow night. Yeah. Come on. Say you’ll go with me. Please?” He practically begs, getting down on one knee.

He pulls out a single red rose from his letterman jacket. Swooning is heard from the girls standing around watching. My heart is beating in my ears. I don’t even know Cato that well. I mean, we know of each other. But…

Prim’s voice is in my head.

You’re going, and that’s the end of it!

I look around at my friends to see that Annie and Delly are stunned. Finnick looks nonchalant about the whole thing. Peeta looks like he’s going to be sick or something.

What do I do?

What should I do?

Drake says, “You only live once”, right?

“O-kay. Ok. Sure.” I say blushing and biting my bottom lip.

“Yeah?” He stands up and picks me up in a hug, swinging me around.

Clapping and woots are heard in the background. As he sets me down, my hands are around his neck and he kisses my cheek. Then pecks my lips. I don’t have time to respond.

“Class everyone!” The assistant principal yells and kids disperse.

“I better get to class.” I say softly.

“See you later, sweet cheeks.” Cato says.

Embarrassed, I let my arms fall to my bag. He walks away from me backwards, with a huge smile on his face. Then he turns and high fives two of his teammates.

Did that just happen?

I hurry to class and sit down. I’m still not sure if I made the right decision. But also, I’m sort of floating.

He asked me to Prom.

In front of a bunch of people.

“So? You and Cato, huh?” Peeta snaps me back to reality for a second time today.

Oh yeah, he probably still needs my notes.

“Sorry, Peeta. Yeah. I guess. I didn’t know he even liked me.”

“Well. What’s not to like?” He says so quietly, I almost ask him to repeat it, to be sure.

“Did you need my no-”?

"Miss Everdeen! Is my class taking up your social time?” Mrs. Leeg asks me.

“No, Mam’.” I say.

Busted.

Peeta looks and mouths at “sorry”, me. I give him a small smile and try my best to pay attention to the lesson.

Just like she promised, Prim does my hair. We found some cute shoes for $12.99, and the dress she borrowed, fits me like a glove. It’s a pretty, shimmery coral color. Right now she’s doing my makeup.

“Katniss! Hold still. Just… don’t blink for a minute.” Prim scolds me.

“Okay, I’m trying. I think you put everything in this makeup bag on my face. Are you sure my hair needs hair spray? I never use that stuff. Isn’t it bad for the ozone or something?” I ask feeling more nervous than I’ll admit to.

Prim laughs and shakes her head. I’m actually grateful to have my sister helping me. I just think people put too much money, time, and effort into these things. I don’t like being fussed over and I’ve been sitting in a chair, in a hot bathroom, for over an hour.

“Dare I say it?”

“Please, dare to.” I beg cracking my neck a little.

“You… wait… okay. You’re done!” Prim squeals eyes all lit up, clapping her hands.

“Bout freaking time. Oh, hand me my phone I gotta check and see if my date texted me. He was going to pick me up, but I told him I could meet him at the school.” I tell her.

Cato doesn’t really need to see where I live. Our house is old and small and the neighborhood is not like his; I’m sure. We have people selling on the corner and cars put on blocks every other week.

I see he just texted me.

Cato- Ur 2 sexy not 2 b picked up. But if u want 2 meet there itz cool. (-:

He texts like a 14-year-old girl.

Katniss- I do. I’m hitching a ride with my friends.

He replies right back.

Cato- Ur wish is my command. Pretty lady.

Ok. I’ll admit. That was cute.

Katniss- See u soon :)

I can’t believe I’m really going to Prom. I’ve never danced in front of anyone before. I hope Cato isn’t like some professional dancer or something.

“Oooh he seems sweet. With the whole, ‘wish is my command thing’. Like in The Princess Bride movie.” Prim sighs.

"Stop reading over my shoulder goober. Besides, Wesley says, ‘As you wish’ to Buttercup.” Also, he’s okay as a first date for me. I mean… it’s just one dance. We’ll see how it goes.” I explain.

“Well, with that attitude? He must be super excited.” She laughs. “Just promise me you’ll try to have fun and loosen up. As someone wise once said, these are the moments of our lives.”

“Okay, Little Duck. One; that is from a commercial for coffee, and two, it’s, ‘Celebrate the moments of our lives’.”

"Semantics, Kat.”

“Plus, I don’t need to loosen up. I have plenty of fun.” I point out scowling.

“Sure you’re tons of fun. Just have more fun than usual, mmkay. And don’t make that face you’ll mess up my masterpiece.”

What? I’m fun.

“Whatever Prim. Can you help me put my dress on? Finnick and Annie and the rest of the crew are picking me up soon.” I say.

BeeTee suggested that everyone chip in to get a stretch limo. I told them not to worry about me, because I don’t have the money.

Story of my life.

Of course they insisted I don’t need to pay, and that they’ll pick me up, because Thom’s house is so close to mine.

The rest of the gang literally lives on the other side of the tracks, like literal railroad tracks. “The upper half”, meaning, most of their parents are doctors and lawyers that make six figures a year. Or they are at least college graduates. My mom is not quite so well paid. She’s a Licensed Vocational Nurse and has been for the passed 13 years, with a long break after my dad’s sudden death of a Cerebral Aneurism when he was 27. He was an archery teacher at a college, with no life insurance. I was eight. Prim was four, almost five. She barely remembers him. My mom almost didn’t recover from the depression of losing him. So she didn’t work for about 5 years.

Gale’s family lost his dad to a fire about two years later. He loved being a firefighter, but we were all sad he never got to meet Posy. She was born after he passed. The Hawthornes really helped us till my mom came out of the fog she walked around in. I sort of took the role of mom when it came to Prim. It taught me having to take care of someone else is tough. Between Prim and watching other neighborhood kids, I’m unsure I ever want kids of my own. They are loud, usually sticky or wet and always hungry.

So I’ve pretty much managed to steer clear of dating boys. Till now. I throw myself into working at Sam’s music store and writing music since, that’s what I want to do. I’ve worked at a couple fast food places, when times were tough and we needed extra money.

I used to volunteer at the church soup kitchen. They always let Prim and I eat for free; and it makes you feel good to do for others when you are feeling like you’ve hit rock bottom.

Needless to say, we’ve been pretty poor most of our lives. But no one really knows. I would hate to see the pity on their faces and I don’t like owing people. It’s something I’m working on. Annie and Delly keep telling me that we all need people and that I push people away trying to be so independent.

“You look great. My baby’s all grow‘d up. Mom… she wanted to be here. But I told her it was okay. She would probably make you more nervous anyway.” Prom says snapping pics with her phone.

It’s only my first real date ever.

Why would I need my mom?

I kiss Prim goodbye, before I do something stupid like cry. I grab my purse and make the quick walk to Thom’s house.

“Hey Katniss! Dem fake lashes though. You look so glam.” Rue says to me.

Thom’s little sister Rue, is the same age as Prim and they’ve been best friends since they could walk. Rue is sitting on her porch holding her baby nephew.

“Thanks. Your partner in crime did my hair and makeup, so you know, I’m uncomfortable.” I say making her giggle.

“Thom will be out in a minute. He’s looking up videos on YouTube on how to tie a fancy bow tie.” Rue informs me.

“Okay. I’ll wait out here.” I say sitting next to her playing with C.J’s little feet. “He’s getting so big. Where’s Jo?”

Jo named her son Cori Junior Mason. But as far as I know, no one knows who Cori Senior is or his last name since the baby has hers. I don’t like to pry, so I’ve never asked Jo what the deal was with her baby daddy.

“She had to work as usual. But I only have to keep Cori until my mom gets off. Then I’m going to your house to hang out with P.” Rue says.

“Okay she has money for pizza. My mom should be home by eleven and no inviting over Vic and Rory. I don’t care if they claim they need to do homework with you, need to borrow a book, a pencil or pen, blah, blah, blah. Hawthorne’s are banned.” I warn.

“Katniss it was only that one time, I swear.” Rue tries to explain turning pink in the cheeks. “Vic said he and Rory couldn’t go home cause they got detention and Gale was gonna tar and feather them.”

“Yeah but when I got there you and Vic were on the couch, in the dark. And P and Rory were in her room, with the door closed. If you don’t want me to tell Rooba, Hazelle, and my mom, it best not happen again. You’re a smart girl. You’re holding what one of the consequences to being alone with boys can be.” I scold.

“We know. We know. Even though you didn’t tell our mom’s; Gale, Thom, Jo and Madge gave all four of us the talk shortly after. It was so embarrassing.” Rue blushes harder.

I got left out of that talk seeing as how I haven’t done what’s in the talk.

“Well, I said I wouldn’t tell your moms. I never promised I wouldn’t tell my back up.” I laugh.

“Ok, Rue, be good. Go on in. I got CJ’s bottle ready. Oh, hey Kat. Wow! Durn girl! Who knew you could be so hot.” Thom teases me.

“Yeah, sure. Compared to Dells?” I joke back.

“Well, you could be a close second.” He laughs boasting. “Ha-ha. My lady is pretty fly. No denying that.”

I hear the honking a block away from Thom’s house. The limo is white and gaudy. But it is Prom. My friends are such goofballs. They are hanging out of the windows and sunroof. They all look fantastic though.

“Hi baby. You are so cute in your tux. OMG! Katniss is that you? Picture, I need photographic evidence. Let’s take a picture everyone!” Delly screams when she sees us.

“You look so pretty.” Annie and Wiress tell me at the same time.

“You two, too.” I respond laughing.

Everyone hops out of the limo and starts pairing up on the Mason’s front lawn. Annie and Finn, BeeTee and Wiress, Dells and Thom. Annie is in aquamarine. Delly is wearing golden yellow. Wiress’ dress is a shimmery purple. And their respective dates are matching, with their ties, or bow ties and or, their cumber buns.

Crap! I’m the only one without my date.

Wait Peeta is alone too.

Posy runs over to us and I’m about to ask where her mom is when Peeta scoops her up.

“My brother said I can be your date since you don’t have one.” Posy tells him.

“P where’s Rory? You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.” Peeta tells her.

How do they even know each other?

I see Vic looking at the scene making sure Posy got here okay. He and Thom share a head nod. Vic walked her over but stayed back a few feet and is now heading back in the direction of the Hawthorne residence.

“I got her. She’s going to my house with Rue.” Thom says.

We aww and laugh at Posy, first for holding Peeta super tight, and not wanting to let him go. Then at her kissing his cheek before being dragged away by Thom.

Peeta comes over to me looking more handsome than I’ve ever seen him. His usually unruly blond curls are slicked back with gel. His suit is matte black. His jacket is unbuttoned revealing a matching vest. It’s the tie that catches my eye. It’s like an orange sunset color.

Funny, we sorta match.

“Hi.” He says to me with a smile on his face.

“Hey.” I say and we share an awkward half hug.

Man, he smells amazing.

“So your date is very young.” I tease.

“Oh, yeah P is my girl. Her best friend from school has cancer and I go the hospital she in to read a couple weekends a month. Rory and Posy go visit sometimes, so we got pretty acquainted.”

So true rumor.

“That’s so… awesome and really, really, sweet.” I gush stupidly.

Shoot me now, for social awkwardness.

“It’s no big deal, really. Anybody can volunteer. I mean you could do it… if you want. Anybody can, um. If they want to.” He rambles cutely.

“That’s so nice. You’re such a nice guy Peet. Tell me again. Why don’t you have a date, man?” Finnick teases him.

Peeta turns red and shoots Fin a look. Then he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Well, I was gonna ask someone. But she got asked already.” Peeta says.

“Peet, stand next to Kat. She is solo for now too. Just so the picture is even and looks good.“ Annie says winking at me.

"Okay ladies, in front of the guys… yeah. Like that.” Delly orders.

She fixes all of us and pushes Peeta and I together so that my back is against his chest. He wraps his arms around my waist pulling me closer. I feel a warm tingly feeling that starts in my head and travels down to my toes. I don’t know where to put my hands at first. But I finally end up crossing my wrists and placing them on top of his clasped hands, which are up against my stomach.

Whoa! Butterflies.

Jeesh, what am I? Thirteen?

The driver takes the photo on Finn’s phone. And then everyone yells, “My phone too!” So we’re standing in this position for like 10 minutes laughing every time someone says, “Wait! Do-over. I blinked!” or “Finn, stop tickling me!” or “Put your tongue in your mouth, Tommy, and smile!”

"So… you look beautiful. I, uh… hope… hope you have a good time tonight.” Peeta says quietly in my ear.

Lord, love a duck!

He’s so freakin’ cute.

He has to lean down a little to reach cause he’s got about four inches on me. I get goose bumps on the side of my neck. I turn my head and say thank you, realizing my face is so close to his that our cheeks brush against each other’s, making me blush beet red. Peeta turns to look at me.

Boy, stop looking at me with those gorgeous eyes.

He looks forward again. Then I take the opportunity to attempt to hide my blush by quickly looking forward as well. But, it doesn’t help. Because, my lips brush his cheek on the way back front, as I begin to turn around. I’m pretty sure; the flash of a camera phone goes off at that exact moment.

Maybe he didn’t feel it?

“You guys all make great couples. Especially you two lovebirds, in the orange, I can feel the love when you look at each other.” The limo driver says.

Comments are unnecessary dude.

“Oh they aren’t a couple… Wait are you? What about Cato?” Delly accuses smiling.

OMG! How embarrassing.

I quickly let go of Peeta and walk out of his grasp. He looks lobster red in the face and a little angry, maybe.

Is it that hard for him to imagine us as a couple?

Six years ago, I would have been thrilled to have someone say that about us. I had a bit of a crush on him in the 6th grade but I kept it to myself. I figured, why waste my time? I’m from the wrong side of town. I had my sister to take care of. He probably would’ve laughed and so would everyone else have. I think Annie figured it out, but she never said anything. And I’ve moved on… or so I thought.

We thank the driver, pile into the limo, and make our way to the school gymnasium. I wish I‘d eaten something more substantial than ramen for dinner as we all laugh about our first time being in a limo. Well, it’s most of our first times being in one. I guess Peeta, Delly and Finnick have all ridden in one before.

“You and Peeta were super-cute in those pictures.” Wiress tells me quietly.

“He was just being nice. He’s nice to everyone.” I rationalize. “I didn’t know he was gonna ask someone to Prom. Do you know who it was?”

I’m practically whispering so no one tries to make a thing out of my curiosity.

“Apparently a friend, he’s liked forever according to BeeTee, ouch!” Wiress says but BeeTee who she’s sitting next to bumps her arm with his arm accidentally.

He apologizes quietly.

“Who I think he heard from Marvel, who I think heard from somebody at a different school. So basically, no I don’t know for 100 percent certainty. But maybe you should ask Finnick.” She finishes.

“Oh, well that’s too bad she was unavailable.” I try to sound aloof.

It’s a less then twenty-minute ride and when we get out, we see Glimmer and Clove standing near Marvel, Blight, and Thresh.

Those little hoochies are dressed in what are supposed to be prom dresses. But they aren’t seniors… nor are they dating any seniors. Plus, their outfits barely cover their ass.

“What are they doing here?” Delly asks no one in particular.

“Hag alert.” Clove announces.

“I know right? Hold on I’m gonna to snap that. So clev Clove.” Glimmer says laughing but not even looking up from her phone.

“Oh, I know you two jail bait, skank-a-licious, trash-boxes, ain’t talking to us.” Delly points a finger at them.

Delly looks them up and down and puts her palms up in both their faces. Essentially shutting up Clove, from coming back with something smart.

“Uhn uh. Save it. Move heifas.” Delly quips walking by.

Thom, Finn, Annie, Wiress, and BeeTee follow her laughing. Peeta is right behind me. I can tell because I can feel the warmth radiating off him.

Is he waiting for me to go in?

“Marv? Are you gonna let her talk to us that way?” Glimmer whines to her brother, sounding indignant.

“Sis, I told you. I’m not buying your ticket or taking you in with me. So, unless you two find dates… go home. That way, Dells can’t rip you a new one every time you run your mouth.” Marvel jokes.

Just then a pretty brunette walks over to Marvel. He turns, puts an arm around her, and they go into the building.

“Blighty Whitey, won’t you take pity on us and take us in with you?” Clove begs.

“Are you really a trash-box? Cause I could be into that.” Blight and Thresh laugh as she sticks her tongue out at him.

“There you are beautiful.” I hear Cato say before I can see him.

He is dressed in a black 007-type tuxedo. He cleans up well, I might add. He’s walking across the parking lot and winks at me.

Will I never stop blushing tonight?

“Yup, here I am.” I say lamely and smile.

“If you need anything… just say so.” Peeta tells me quietly as Cato walks towards us.

Peeta backs away from me and walks over to Thresh. Cato hugs me, and then latches my arm onto his. Next thing I know, he’s ushering me towards the entrance of the gym.

I look back over my shoulder and nod my understanding at Peeta. He shoots me a half smile. Glimmer cuts off my view of him. Probably trying to flirt her way in with Peeta.

Haha, fat chance of that… Hoe in training.

Cato pulls out our tickets as we walk into the menagerie of streamers and balloons that take up half of the gym. There is a table with punch and refreshments, and a DJ booth way over in the corner. Some tables and chairs are setup with people sitting at them talking and laughing. Right in the center of everything is the dance floor. The lights are beautiful. It’s dim lighting, but every color imaginable is dancing off the walls.

“So, you wanna dance or would you like a drink first?” Cato asks me.

Some people are dancing already, but not many. I definitely need time to prepare for that.

"Umm, I’m not a very good dancing-”

“Hey! What up C? This her? The one you caught the other day? Damn dude! She’s wavy.” Some random guy I’ve never seen says to Cato, giving him a low five that turns into a weird bros handshake.

“Yeah this is my hottie, Kat.” Cato brags.

“Uh, Katniss, actually.” I say and put my hand out to the stranger.

He has long blond hair. So blond it’s almost white… white as snow. Then it hits me. This guys name is Snow. I remember him getting teased in elementary school by some older kids.

He started using the nickname they gave him to introduce himself. Then they didn’t have anything to tease him about. Glad he figured out a way to deal with those bullies before he got all messed up.

“You can call me Snow. C-Dog here is my cousin, actually, so don’t you go breaking his heart. All right now, Kitty Kat? Cato and Kitty. I can see the invitations to the wedding now.” Snow laughs and gives me a wicked grin.

I pull my hand away. Okay, I jumped the gun on that one. Maybe he’s not the, take the higher road, well adjusted type that I thought he was.

He’s a little creepy actually.

“Too fast cuz. Let’s get through tonight, first.” Cato says laughing almost as menacingly as Snow, but then smiles sweetly at me and squeezes my hand.

“I see my friends acting stupid over there. Cato, I’ll just go tell them I found you and get some punch. It was nice meeting you, Snow.” I say trying to sound convincing.

“You too Kitty.”

It really wasn’t all that nice. He thinks I’m something you catch. He won’t say my name right, and he’s picking out our wedding invites after one date.

Cato catches me off guard and pulls me in for a kiss. It’s not long; but he brushes his tongue across my lips and I gasp, causing my mouth to open a bit and he smiles.

He tastes like peppermint, but with a hint of alcohol? He’s underage. Where would he get booze? Ugh, probably Snow. I step back, but leave my hand on his chest so he doesn’t feel rejected that I pulled away so soon. I can tell he enjoyed the brief kiss.

“Sure thing, sugar lips… I’ll be here waiting.” Cato promises.

As I walk away his cousin says, “Damn, Cuz.”

I walk away, faster.

Creep.

When I spot my friends, I contemplate asking them if it’s a bad sign that Cato may have already started drinking. But decide not to and tell Wiress how lovely her purple dress is. Out of my Peripherals, I see Glimmer clutching Peeta’s arm walking towards us.

What the actual freak?

“Hey there Cathey.” Glimmer purposely mispronounces my name.

Oh, no she didn’t.

“It’s Kat-Niss.” I pronounce like I’m explaining it to a toddler.

Oh, that’s right, I am.

“What Evers. Totes, literally.” Glimmer states so eloquently.

Ditz.

Why is Peeta with her?

Why am I so pissed about it?

“Peeta, I’m going to get some punch would you like some?” Glimmer asks him, which is shocking since she never does anything for anyone else.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.” Peeta says smiling at her.

She bats her eyes at him like she’s in a 2005 Mariah Carey music video.

Ugh! Stop it!

“Peeta, don’t tell me you brought her in with you?” Wiress asks before I can, as soon as Glimmer walks away.

“Wiress, come on, I didn’t have a date. The girl I was gonna ask, already had a date, so just let me… enjoy my Prom. No judgement, please.” He responds causing Wiress to look ashamed and nod.

“I just don’t see why you would want to even hang around wi-” I start.

“Don’t Katniss! Okay. You’re here with Johnson, right? So just go… be with him.” Peeta practically yells at me.

Then he turns and walks away, leaving Wiress and I slack jawed and dumbfounded.

What the hell was that about?

I walk back over to Cato where he’s surrounded by a group of cheerleaders and jocks. I almost turn back around, but he quickly walks over to me and snags my wrist gently.

“Hey gorgeous. Where you off to? We were just discussing the fact that you and I are probably gonna win Prom King and Queen.” He says cockily.

He must be joking.

“But I’m not even in the running.” I state confused.

“Sure you are. I nominated you as soon as you agreed to come with me yesterday; and everyone is saying how official we are as a couple. I can’t wait to beat Finnick and Annie. I bet they think that they have it in the bag already. But we’re gonna give them a run for their money. Right?” Cato asks sounding excited.

He did ask me to Prom and he did buy my ticket. He seems really anxious to win. The least I could do is try for him.

“Okay. Well, what do we do then?” I ask biting my bottom lip.

“Well first, stop biting your lip. It’s too damn sexy.” He smiles and grabs both of my hands, pulling me to a table far away from everyone.

“And second, take a swig of this.” Cato takes a silver flask from his jacket pocket and hands it to me discreetly.

Hold up. What?

“I… What is it?” I question.

“Liquid courage.”

I just stare at him.

“It’s just Bacardi 151. That’s a kind of rum. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” He says pushing it closer to my mouth.

Am I seriously about to do this?

I have had alcohol once before in my life. It was with Gale. But he only let me have a tiny sip.

This is only a little too, right?

Cato says he’ll take care of me.

I take a medium gulp and it burns going down my throat. I try not to wince in pain, but it’s just so strong. I’m coughing when Cato hands me water, so I down the whole cup and burp very un-ladylike. I cover my mouth and say excuse me. He just chuckles like he’s proud and then hands me some minty gum.

“Thanks?”

I suddenly feel very loose and tingly.

“No prob babe. Follow me.” He says raising an eyebrow.

We mingle with most of the patrons at the prom for about an hour. I’m introduced to a ton of people, and told a bunch of names, I’ll never remember. When we get around my friends they all make an effort to be nice to Cato.

But where’s Peeta?

When Cato pretty much tells my crew to vote for us, I’m embarrassed. But Finnick tells us he hopes we win. Then Cato drags me to the corner again to take another swig of his jacket juice. It burns a bit less this time. Cato then escorts me to the dance floor. He’s a really good dancer on his own. But he gets so close to me and grabs my waist rocking my hips. I didn’t know I had this much rhythm. I slowly start to gain confidence.

Yeah, I got this.

After the floor gets packed we start grinding into each other, my back to his front. I attempt to do what I’ve seen on TV and YouTube. Cato seems very pleased. My friends, who are dancing nearby are fluctuating between shock and admiration at my booty popping skills. I have to admit I’m actually having fun.

“I’m gonna go to the, um ladies room.” I tell him in his ear.

Cato turns his face and kisses me more passionately then he did before. But again I back away. I smile and he lets me go.

“Hurry back, sexy.” He says.

I’m not sure how I feel about all of these kisses. It all seems so fast.

Should I be kissing him? It is a date.

I try to make my way through the crowd. It’s jam-packed and sweltering in here. It takes me a couple minutes to get off the dance floor, and now I’m feeling kinda fuzzy. My girls must notice, and see me walking towards the restrooms. They’re close behind.

“Katniss! Look at you having fun!” Annie says grinning.

Boo Yow! Ha! Primmy!

Who says I’m not fun?

Not trusting my voice I just smile and high five her. They are all looking in the mirror, adjusting straps hairpins or makeup.

“Delly is a little jealous you can twerk it like that.” Wiress laughs.

“I am not! My boyfriend is half black and I keep him sat-is-fied. So, obviously, I can shake what my momma gave me good enough. But Katniss is doing alright.” Delly clarifies.

“Yeah I’m am!” I shout while waiting for a stall door to open.

We all laugh super hard and then it’s finally my turn to pee. They all take more time to fix their makeup, talk about after parties and check each other for tissue paper on the bottom of their shoes. Then leave telling me they’ll meet me on the dance floor. I think I pee for almost three minutes straight. As I go to wash my hands, I feel much more unsteady then I did before.

Maybe it’s because I haven’t eaten much.

Ah well.

On the way back to Cato, I bump into Peeta and Glimmer who are dancing at the edge of the crowd.

“Are you alright?” Peeta asks.

“You not maddat me inymore?”

I sound weird. I feel weird too.

“Uch! Peety! She got sweat on my arm.” Glimmer pouts.

Shut up trick!

“Yeah, Kat, you don’t look so good. I’m gonna help her get some water, Glim. I’ll be right back.” Peeta yells over the music.

Ha ha ha! Suck it, Trabeck!

She looks pissed and walks away. Peeta helps me to a table, where we sit. He gives me a cold water bottle to drink and holds one on my neck.

“You shood go back to yer jailbait. Don’ worry bout me. Ine all good.” I slur a little batting his hand trying feel my forehead away.

Drink the water. Don’t spill it. Good.

“You are not all good. You’ve been drinking? Did that fuc- Did that tool give you alcohol?” Peeta questions me.

Damn! He can tell.

“Noo! I juss haded like one skwig! We wanna be pom kink and queent. You don’ know how mush I neededed to re-laacks. I don’ dantce.” I sit up and try to speak more clearly.

“You don’t drink either. But you seem to not have any trouble shaking your ass.” Peeta scolds.

He closes his eyes while pinching the bridge of his nose. He lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Who er you… my dad? I got go pee-pee, Pee-ta.” I laugh at my hilarious joke.

He didn’t find it funny. I wobbly get up from the table, but he captures my hand in his before I can walk away. I look into his bright blue eyes. For the second time tonight it gives me butterflies. I hiccup.

I’m trying to be mad at you.

“Hold on. I just… I don’t like that guy for you. You deserve better and he isn’t as nice a guy as you think. Just be careful. Okay?” Peeta sounds like he’s talking through glass as I yank my hand free and scowl at him.

How dare he judge my date? He’s here with Glimmer.

“I said Ine good. You c-careful nodda get herpees! Yeah? Or scabies, fromm yer date. Unkay? Cado is showin’ me good time an an he assed me. Not you. So whaddayou care?” I stammer walking away from him.

“Hey babe… there you are. Thought I was going to have to send out search and rescue for you. They’re gonna announce the King and Queen soon.” Cato tells me.

Okay, gotta keep it together.

“Ca I hafe s'more gum an iss my maketup runnin’?”

Cato looks at me, and tilts my face gently in both of his hands. I can feel his breath on my face, but it’s cool and nice. He wipes under my eyes with his thumbs and kisses me on the nose sweetly.

Huh. See Mellark. Cato’s definitely better than Glimmer.

“There. All better. Okay? Just hold on to me.” Cato reassures me.

I eat some chips and drink a lot more water. One more bathroom break and I feel myself getting back to normal.

After an announcement by the assistant principle, asking the nominee finalists to step forward I start to get nervous, I’m gonna fall like in the Miss Congeniality movie. It’s myself, Annie, some girl on student council, and the varsity head cheerleader. The guys are Finn, Cato, Thresh, and Peeta.

What the?

We have more waiting around to do as they talk about each of us. People clap and shout out their favorites. I’m still a little shocked to be up here. Then it’s time to reveal the winners.

“And your 2013 Prom King is Finnick Odair! And his Queen is Annabelle Cresta!” Mr. Plutarch says.

Yay! I’m happy for them.

There is a ton of applause. Cato looks at me. I see the disappointment, frustration and confusion on his face.

“The runners up are Peeta Mellark… and Katniss Everdeen!” Mr. Plutarch announces.

Holy shit!

If anything it should be Cato and I. But it really shouldn’t even be me at all. Not even in second place.

They place a sash across our chests. This is all very sobering. Now when I look at Cato’s face, all I see is frustration. They give Cato and the head cheerleader third place sashes and flowers, and fourth place to Thresh and the last girl.

After the applause dies down, we are expected to dance with our respective win mates. Mine being Peeta, I automatically wrap my arm around his offered arm and he escorts me to the floor where the lights are shining on us.

I can’t believe this.

But I do love this song by Jason Mraz.

He puts a hand on the small of my back. I rest mine on his shoulder. Our other hands intertwine. We start moving and a couple of camera flashes go off.

Everyone’s looking. Please don’t let me fall.

“I didn’t even know I was nominated.” Peeta quietly admits.

“Yeah, me either, until tonight. Cato put my name in after I agreed to go with him. Look, I’m really sorry for earlier. You’re right. I do not drink. And I shouldn’t have tonight but I’m just so… it’s just. I don’t fit in to things, socially speaking. I don’t live in the right part of town. I wanted to relax and enjoy this because I don’t usually get to. It’s my last chance and my sister made me promise to try. But I shouldn’t have been mean to you and I’m sorry.” I apologize.

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine, whatever you do. I shouldn’t have been in your business. I should have just asked you to Prom.”

“Me?”

“I mean, if… if I wanted to be worried about you so much. I just didn’t… I wasn’t sure you’d say yes… to anyone. Especially to Cato… I mean he’s not even in our group of friends. You know? Anyway, you look phenomenal. Your sister was right. You should enjoy this night. Sorry I’ve been ruining it.” He tells me sincerely.

Aw. You’re not.

“Well, I wouldn’t say you ruined it. I’m enjoying myself right now. And I might have said yes if you had asked me, Peeta.”

I can’t meet his eyes after admitting that out loud. He lets go of my back and tips my chin up to make me look him in the eyes.

Those damned transcending blue eyes.

“Is it too late? To ask you out on a date I mean?” He asks smiling.

I here the words, but I can’t be sure I didn’t just make them up. He definitely looks serious and nervously nibbles the inside of his bottom lip.

“Can I cut in?” Cato asks sounding irritated and his eyes are glossy.

Damn.

“I… umm. Cato, I’m sorry we didn’t win like you had hoped.” I say not knowing what else to say.

“That’s okay, doll. How could you know, right?” He says but I sense something off about him.

I want to say, I don’t want to dance with him, so that I can stay right here in Peeta’s arms. But I feel obligated.

“I’ll just, see you later Katniss.” Peeta relents.

Though his eyes are asking me if I’m sure he should let go. I drop my hands and he lets go of me backing up a few steps. As he’s leaving, I think about the answer to his question.

No, it’s not too late. Ask me right now!

“Hey Peeta? No.” Is all I say and he smiles and nods.

“What was that about?” Cato asks as he starts walking me in the opposite direction.

The fact that I’d rather be with him.

“Oh, he just asked me a question. So I told him no.” I tell Cato hoping he doesn’t ask what the question was.

“Good, the answer was no, so he probably got the hint.” He says continuing to lead me away from everyone.

Only now he’s got an arm around my shoulder and is leaning slightly on me for support. We cut through a big group heading out the dance floor for a popular song.

“Where are we going?” I ask as we leave the gym, heading down the school hallway.

“I’m so upset about losing. I just want to get some air, if that’s okay?” He asks looking so sad.

Poor guy.

As cocky as he tries to act, it’s refreshing to see him humbled and vulnerable.

“Hey, it’s okay. Cato, you’re a really popular guy. I mean, you’ll be on dozens of pages in the yearbook and everyone will write about how awesome it was to know you.” I try to cheer him up.

He smiles at me and I notice his brow is full of sweat. If he’s not feeling well, maybe I can get him to call it an early night.

“I think it’s awesome to know you. Thank you for coming with me to prom. You look so hot in that dress. I just want to take it off you.” Cato admits slanting more into me as I struggle to hold him upright.

Okay. You must still be drunk.

“Whoa there, Tiger. That’s getting a little ahead of ourselves.” I caution.

I didn’t notice how far down the hall we’ve walked till now. I can barely hear the bass of the music.

“Katniss. I just feel such a connection with you.” He says as he starts kissing my neck.

Although it doesn’t feel bad, it doesn’t quite feel good either. He pushes me up against a wall. I put my hands up on his shoulders try to keep some space between us, but he slumps into me and he’s solid and heavy.

All right. How to let him down gently?

“Cato maybe… we… should go back to the rest of the-”

“Maybe you should shut the hell up. I think you should show my cousin the good time he deserves for bringing you to the prom. Even though you lost the crown for him.” It’s Snow.

Where the hell did he come from?

Snow is standing in a shadowy part of the hallway to the right of us. Cato stops kissing me but doesn’t loosen his grip on me.

“Hey! Let go. And what do you mean the good time he deserves? I’m going back to the gym. Cato! Let up!” I say as forcefully as I can while pushing Cato hard on the chest and arms, to no avail.

Snow walks closer to us.

Stay the hell away from me Creep!

“I really like you. Can’t you see that?” Cato asks distracting me, smiling with a scary look in his eyes.

To think, they are just as blue as Peeta’s. But they aren’t nearly as warm and beautiful.

Okay, Cato, let me loose. You like me, but I don’t like you that way.

“Getting all snugly with that Mellark asshole. Did he bring you to prom or did Cato?” Snow questions.

You’re an asshole!

I start getting scared for real. Surely these two idiots know that my friends will be looking for me. Then suddenly… without warning, Snow puts his hand over my mouth. I try to get away from Cato but he has my arms locked down and he’s too strong. I try to scream, but Snow has my mouth covered with some kind of cloth.

No! Get off me!

Cato picks me up and carries me into a room. The cloth, I realize is my runners up sash, is pushed far into my mouth, so every scream is muffled and makes me gag a little. They close the door and Snow stands outside of it. I hear the click as Cato locks it and the tears begin to fall down my face.

Fight him!

I’m kicking my feet as hard as I can, but Cato just keeps walking me over to a couch. When he puts me down I think I can try to kick him, but he sits on me faster than I thought he could move and grabs my wrists.

This isn’t happening…

Please…

This can’t be happening.

My eyes burn from makeup getting muddled with my tears. One of my eyes can’t fully open, and my jaw and throat ache from the gag and screaming. But that’s nothing to the way I hurt inside.

By the time he was done with me, I had passed out twice. Once from the pain and shock of him taking my virginity.

The second time was after I awoke to him moving above me. I tried to push him off me. I scratched him across the cheek, so he punched me hard in the face. Then he smothered my face with a nearby pillow.

I thought I died… I wanted to die… The odds weren’t in my favor.

He must’ve thought he killed me too, because now that I’m starting to wake, I hear voices.

“You weren’t supposed to kill her. Just show her a good time, you idiot! Now how are we gonna get her body out of here?”

Snow…

“I’m sorry! She got me good. Feisty bitch. I just saw the pillow and wanted her to be still, so that I could finish without her struggling.”

I’m gonna throw up.

“She was feisty wasn’t she? Damn Cuz.”

Then I hear laughing. Looking at my surroundings, I realize I’m in the teachers’ lounge. Tears threaten to fall, but I keep my breaths shallow so I don’t attract their attention.

It’s very dimly lit, but I see another door at the other end of the room, away from them. I carefully assess my injuries and decide it’s worth trying to make a run for it.

Snow has his back to me, and Cato is about to poke his head out of the closest door to look out into the hallway.

Katniss, it’s your only chance…

They’ll kill you to keep from going to jail!

Prim needs you…

Run…

Now!

“Hey! Get back here!”

Snow and Cato yell from somewhere behind me.

I’m so afraid that they will catch me. I just have to find someone… anyone. My feet feel like they’re made of lead, but I’m halfway back to the gym entrance and they haven’t overtaken me.

Please don’t catch me…

God, don’t let them catch me…

I’m shaking. My dress is ripped and bloody. I’m bare foot and bruised. I make it into the gym with only a smattering of people. I don’t see any adults.

Help me…

I scream, dropping to my knees.

Help…

Someone’s arms catch me before the rest of my body hits the floor.

I just want to be at home with Prim…

I wake in a hospital bed. I can hear machines beeping. I feel groggy. Looking through the window of the closed door, I see what look to be police outside the room and my mom is talking with them.

Mommy!

Where’s Prim?

I see Prim, sleeping in a chair next to my bed, her head resting on my arm. The other arm has tubes in it. I can see hand shaped purple and blue marks running up and down them.

“Katniss?” Peeta whispers from across the room.

Peeta?

He has tears in his eyes. His hair is disheveled. There’s a tear in his jacket. He’s got a bloody lip and scrapes on his face as well.

Peeta.

Does he know what happened?

Why is he hurt?

“Peeta? How? Are you okay?” I ask in a raspy hushed voice.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m sorry, Katniss, I’m so, so sorry. Can you forgive me?” He begs, his eyes glistening.

Forgive him?

He couldn’t have known this would happen?

He wasn’t even there.

“Peeta. You didn’t do this to me. I’m so stupid. I should have never been alone-” My voice catches on the last word and hot tears fall down my cheeks.

I try to control my breathing because it hurts when I take deep breaths.

“I wanted to ask you to the prom. I even asked your sister if you had a date. I even told her I was wearing orange. But I chickened out. If I hadn’t… or if I wouldn’t have let you go with…” He says a tear slipping down his cheek.

It was Peeta? Cato shouldn’t ever have even been my date. It should have been Peeta.

“Peeta. Please. It’s not your fault.” I plead with him to realize.

“He’s in jail. All they need is for you to confirm it was… to keep him there. But if you can’t… talk about… if you don’t want to… they can use DNA found… Oh God Katniss. I wanted to kill him. Finn, Thresh, and Blight… they had to… I almost didn’t stop hitting him.” He cries as he relives it and so do I.

I notice he won’t walk the four or five steps it would take to cross the room. And now that he mentions it, I notice the bandages wrapped around his knuckles that are bloody.

Oh Peeta.

Sweet, shy Peeta.

I did this to you.

“I’m glad they stopped you… because that’s not who you are.” I sniffle.

“He deserves to die. He deserves…”

“But you don’t deserve to go to jail because of my stupidity.” I say.

“You didn’t deserve… this. You don’t deserve to be here.” He says, tears falling.

He angrily wipes at them and looks down.

“Thank you. For… Thank you.” I struggle to get out.

“No. It’s ok. I’m just glad we caught him.” Peeta says.

Him?

Not them?

Snow!

“Peeta, there was another guy. Cato’s, cousin, I think. Snow? I don’t know his real name, but he helped him. He made sure no one came in from the hallway.” I relay, fresh tears forming.

Damn Snow! Would Cato even have done this had Snow not been there?

“Shit! I asked a guy if he’d seen anyone walk down the hall and he said that he hadn’t. I couldn’t even see his face that well, but I knew it wasn’t Cato because his suit was grey. Dammit! I didn’t think he had any reason to lie.” Peeta explains.

Peeta was looking for me.

“They… gagged me so I couldn’t yell for help.” I say looking away.

“I was so close. I could’ve stopped-”

“Don’t. You can’t blame yourself.” Prim speaks up.

How long has she been awake?

“Neither of you. I made Katniss go to Prom. I told her that you asked about her, but I didn’t know it was you and not Cato. Since you two look similar…” She trails off with tears falling down her cheeks.

They do look similar. But they are nothing alike.

My mom walks in, so Peeta excuses himself to let my friends in the waiting room know I’m awake. He stops on the way out to tell the police that the original statement he gave needed to be adjusted, pertaining to the guy he questioned in the hallway.

Mom comes over to me, and without saying a word, she just hugs me and cries. Prim cries and holds my hand and eventually we all calm down.

When police Officer Jackson and his partner Officer Holmes comes in, he asks me if I would feel more comfortable talking with a female detective.

Yes.

They also ask if I’d like for my mother and sister to leave. I ask for the woman detective, and I suggest for Prim to get some breakfast, since the sun has come up. She hesitantly does what I ask.

“Ask Peeta to take you, little duck.” Mom tells her.

A half hour later, Jackson, sends in a detective who introduces herself as Alma Coin. She is dressed in a black business suit and heels. Her hair is in an asymmetric black bob, with one streak of grey. I start at the beginning and tell her everything. She takes notes on everything I say.

“Okay, Miss Everdeen. Now, I don’t want to upset you any further, but I just need to be certain of the facts. Since we are talking about rape here. So, if I have this straight… you chose to go to prom with this boy, Cato Johnson? You willingly, and illegally, accepted alcohol from him? Although, you’re both below the legal drinking age? Then you say that you walked away from the dance with him… also, willingly. At that point he and his light blond haired cousin, whose real name you don’t know, and which no one else seems to recall seeing, at all, last night… gagged you and took you to the teachers’ lounge? Where Cato Johnson proceeded to assault and rape you. You lost consciousness, twice, then ran out, without them stopping you? Is that your statement?” Detective Coin asks.

She sounds like she doesn’t believe a word I’ve said.

Why would I make this up?

“Yes. I thought he was the guy my sister was trying to set me up with. I know it’s wrong to drink. I’ve never had more than a sip before, but I didn’t think he was a… bad… guy. He said… he said he’d look out for me. I didn’t realize how far away we were from the gym until… it was too late. Snow gagged me and stood watch outside the door. My friend Peeta saw Snow and talked to him when he noticed I went missing. Ask Peeta! I didn’t make him up! Cato… he smothered me. He thought he killed me. So when I saw the opportunity to try and run for my life, I took it. Thankfully, I had enough energy to make it back to where other people were, or I doubt they would have let me live!” I shout as much as my voice will allow.

I’m furious at her accusations.

Am I on trial here?

“This friend Pee-Ta Mel-Lark, is it? Is he the one who also beat Cato within inches of his life? Is Peeta a boyfriend you were trying to make jealous?” She asks.

What!

I’m shocked and angry. I hate this woman for accusing Peeta of doing anything wrong. My fists are clenched so hard that my hands are starting to hurt.

He was trying to save me.

“No!” I say shaking my head.

“Are you sure you didn’t just sleep with Cato, then make up a story so you wouldn’t have to look like the girl who got drunk and slept with a guy at school? It’s a common tale. You do realize he could go to jail for a very long time, don’t you Miss Everdeen?” Coin questions in her accusatory tone.

“My daughter… was rushed, to the hospital unconscious. You can see the bruises on her face… and on her arms. Katniss had a rape kit done on her. She was proclaimed by several credible doctors, to indeed be… raped! She needed stitches for heaven’s sake! She would never risk and innocent person’s life just to save her, reputation. This is the first time she’s ever even gone on a date, or to a school function… and she was a… a virgin until last night. So, this Cato son of a bitch needs to be castrated, and sentenced to life in prison. He can rot there for all I care. Now are you going to make sure that happens and catch his accomplice, cousin, before another poor girl gets hurt? Or should we ask for a detective who can do their job?” My mother yells at her through tears.

In that moment, I see her. My mother. The mom I knew before dad died.

Coin is visibly shaken by what my mom has just told her. She looks somewhere between angry that my mom spoke to her that way, and ashamed for overlooking my injuries.

“Asking the tough questions is my job but… I’m sorry if I offended you, Mrs. Everdeen. We have to ask to be sure. There are girls who make stories up, everyday.” Coin offers.

“Apologize to my daughter.” My mother says in a tone that states don’t fool with my family.

I shakily grab mom’s hand. She squeezes back gently.

“Please accept my apology, Miss Everdeen. You’ve clearly been through a lot. We will process Mr. Johnson, and officially charge him with rape. Unless he confesses though, there will be a trial. You may have to testify. He will be tried as a minor because he isn’t yet 18… so there is a slight chance he will not serve as much time as an adult would. I will do what I can to keep you informed of the progress on your case, but if you feel very strongly about having a new detective assigned to you, we can see to that.” Coin says and I don’t know how genuine her apology is, but she sounds like she’s telling the truth about the other things.

Trial?

Everyone looking at me…

Having to not only tell, but also… relive what happened to me?

I look to my mom. I think she can sense my apprehension… and the fact that this is all overwhelming.

“We appreciate that you’re job requires you to make sure. Please keep us informed.” My mom says coldly, and then walks Detective Coin out.

I don’t bother to say goodbye. I don’t like her.

I’m released from the hospital much later that day. When we arrive home, my mom gives me some pain medication. I settle myself on the couch to try and relax. I’m about to turn on the television when Prim snatches the remote.

“Prim, what are you-”

“You don’t wanna look at boring old TV. Let’s do something else.” She says looking guilty.

I can tell something is up with her. I ask where my phone is and she just shrugs. Then there’s a knock at the door.

“Is this The Everdeen home?”

“Are you her little sister… uh… Primrose, is it?”

“Do you have a statement?”

“Can you tell us the nature of the relationship between Katniss and her attacker before the rape?”

There is no break in between questions.

“What are you doing here?” Is all Prim can say before my mom runs over to the door.

She yells at them to leave. Then slams the door on the nine or so reporters with microphones, and cameramen from every local news channel. No wonder Prim didn’t want me to turn on the TV.

Prim is crying. Mom does her best to comfort her and sends her upstairs to rest. Then mom pulls out a business card from her purse and says that she’s going to call a lawyer. I’m so exhausted that I fall asleep.

“No! I have no statement. I don’t care if it is breaking news! I have a lawyer who informs me that if you aren’t at least a hundred yards away from my house, I can sue all of you for harassment. So scoot!” I wake to mom shouting out the door maybe an hour later.

We have a lawyer?

She turns to look my way, but I don’t want her to know that I’m awake. So I keep my eyes closed. I hear her light footfalls make there way over to me, before I feel the gentlest of kisses brush my forehead.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie. We are gonna get through this, together. I promise. I love you so much.” She whispers, and I feel her tears land on my arm.

As I hear her leave, tears of my own threaten to fall. I try to go back to sleep. That’s when the nightmares start.

The next morning, Gale comes home. For the first time since our fathers died, I see my best friend cry. He is so devastated that he wasn’t here to protect me. I tell him, and Madge tells him, that there wasn’t anything, that anyone, could’ve done.

But that’s not true… I could’ve done something different. Like, not gone to Prom with Cato, or just admitted I liked Peeta.

“Katniss, is there anything I can get you? Are you in pain?” Madge asks.

“Not right now. I just feel dumb. Like… I didn’t follow my own instincts. I’m so embarrassed.” I confess.

“Please don’t feel that way. More girls and women then you may realize are ra… umm, have this happen to them. It’s not your fault.” Madge says.

“Yes, but so many things could have prevented-” I start.

“Catnip, you are one of the strongest people I know. But you can’t control everything. I used to think there was a certain type of girl this happens to… but I was wrong. Guys who do this to women… are pigs. They obviously don’t care if you weak or strong. They don’t care if you’re a good girl. They just victimize people. It’s not your fault. Okay.” Gale says.

But…

“He’s right. You can’t keep chastising yourself. Thinking about what ifs. You just didn’t deserve this to happen to you, but it did.” My mom says coming out of nowhere.

She hasn’t been farther than ten feet from me since it happened.

“Just know, we’re all here for you, and we’ll help you get through this and move on.” She finishes.

My victims advocate’s name is Haymitch Abernathy. He is… Well he seems like, a surly, old drunk, to be honest. He’s won my mom over somehow, but I’m skeptical of his abilities as a lawyer. He is working with the D.A., since Cato is being prosecuted by the state of California.

The District Attorney is Caesar Flickerman. Caesar is not your typical looking or acting D.A. He seems to be interested in the publicity this case will bring. His assistant, Claudius Templesmith, is just as peculiar.

The next week is hectic. On Monday I’m carted off to the police station. They sent me to a sketch artist. The drawing was released to other precincts and to the media. So basically, as of now, the police have no leads to Snow’s whereabouts. Then we go to the lawyer’s office. The nightmares happen as soon as I close my eyes.

Tuesday, we go to the hospital to check on my injuries. It’s awful, because not only do I have to have my outer injuries assessed, but my inner ones as well. My mom leaves me in a room, so she can to talk to a doctor. A nurse comes in and even though the doctor already checked, she makes me lie back and put my feet in those foot stirrups I hate, again. But whatever she does, doesn’t hurt thank goodness. I feel like the humiliation isn’t ever going to end.

I also get sent to speak with a psychiatrist. Dr. Jones. I don’t much care for her because she strongly feels that I should be put on possible, dependency forming medication, with side effects that I’m not willing to deal with.

That night, the Hawthorne’s and Mason’s come over and cook a big dinner. I try to enjoy it but twice, when one of the boys goes to reach for salt or a napkin, I freak out and jump completely out of my skin. I head to bed early claiming I’m tired because I’m ashamed that my friends scare me.

Wednesday it’s off to the lawyer’s office again. The only good thing about this day is Haymitch suggests a psychologist that I actually do like. He offers me some methods that help even after just one session.

Then Thursday, back to the dreaded hospital.

Haymitch has been driving us to all these appointments, in his Bentley, because it has tinted windows. We are trying to keep the reporters off our scent.

The gist of the entire running around is, Cato is in jail, awaiting trial without bail. They questioned everyone from Prom that night. No one remembered seeing Snow, but many students remember the same thing I did. About a white haired kid being teased when we were younger.

I try to listen to what all these people tell me, but I tend to zone out a little.

The only thing I pay attention to at the hospital, is the results of my Sexually Transmitted Disease tests. I’m clean of everything.

Thank you, God!

That was the third time my mom cried that day, but finally, they are mostly happy tears.

Friday, our last stop is to the school to get my stuff and to pick up the work I’ll be doing at home for the rest of the year. I won’t be finishing my last month in school. But I can graduate with everyone, if I choose to walk across the stage.

I’m in the parking lot of the school. I can see a legion of reporters crowded around out front. They inexplicably found out our next stop.

We’ve evaded them for most of this week. It looks like the principle anticipated the ruckus and called all of the school’s security guards, and the police, to keep them at bay.

The barricades are set up out front so the side entry is the route we go in. Once inside the gates, I’m almost brought to tears. There, standing in front of, what looks to be the entire school, is Prim’s smiling face.

Next to her are Rue, Peeta, Finn, Annie, Delly, Thom, BeeTee, and Wiress. All holding a huge paper sign that says; “Katniss, We love and miss you!”

The principle, and my favorite teacher, Mrs. Atala, walk over to me to hand me my work and hug me tight. I didn’t know this many people even knew who I was.

They say a few nice things about how brave I am and what an inspiration to other rape victims I’ve become.

I don’t feel very inspirational.

They dismiss the students for the rest of the day. Mom speaks with my teachers about the work I’ll need to complete in order to graduate. So, I take the opportunity to slip away to my locker.

“Hey.” Peeta approaches me timidly.

“Hi.” I say, feeling grateful to see his face.

I feel like I can never repay Peeta for what he tried to do for me.

I owe him.

“How are you feeling? I mean, are you… you’re probably tired of answering that question huh?” He asks intuitively.

“Yeah, but I’m getting better. And you can ask me anything, Peeta. I just don’t like answering when people don’t really care.” I clarify.

He nods in understanding. Behind him my friends are all approaching.

“Katniss, can I hug you?” Wiress comes up and asks sweetly; with unshed tears in her eyes.

I shake my head yes and it turns into a dog pile hug of my three best girlfriends. Finnick, Thom, and BeeTee are standing nearby with sad smiles. No doubt, Thom told them how jumpy I’ve been in male company as of late, so they are respectfully keeping some distance.

“We were so worried about you.” Annie says crying.

“Sorry. I’m glad you guys are… here.” I say, trying not to wince as they squeeze my sore arms and torso.

I should never have left my friends that night.

“You are stuck with us. You got that?” Delly adds sniffling.

They let go and wipe their eyes. They tell me about their week, mostly about classes and home. They avoid the media coverage and they don’t ask me about anything too personal.

Thankfully no one mentions how my eye is still a little bruised. Prim tried to convince me to put makeup on. But I don’t see the point.

“How you holding up Catnip?” I’m surprised to see Gale at the school.

“Okay. Have you met the crew?” I ask.

He already knew most of my friends from when he went to school here. And he knows Thom from the neighborhood. But he shakes hands with all the rest. When he gets to Peeta he pulls him into a bear hug. Peeta looks shocked.

“First, you win over Posy. Then… well, you’re alright in my book, Mellark.” Gale says letting him go.

“Thanks, I feel like I should’ve done more.” Peeta says sadly.

“They’ll get what’s coming to them, don’t you worry. I’ll catch you all later.” Gale says, squeezing my shoulder once and leaving to go see one of his siblings.

“Let us know if you need study buddies and we could have some sleep-overs.” Delly volunteers.

There’s only about a month left of school, so the work should be fairly easy? I can tell they all just want to help me feel normal.

“That sounds great. How about Sunday?” I say trying my hardest to smile.

They all hug me one by one. Even the boys once I tell them it’s okay. Leaving Peeta as the last embrace, and I almost cry again. I feel so much safer in his arms. I just keep kicking myself for leaving them that night, for leaving him that night.

“If you need anything… ever… and I mean, ever. You find me. Okay?” He says in my ear.

I nod and wipe the few stray tears off his face and mine. We stand there a minute, staring into each other’s eyes… I think he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t.

Click!

“Oh, that one is my screensaver. I mean, if that’s okay?” Prim asks.

She took a picture on her phone. I have a flash back of that night having our picture taken while dancing. But then a blurred shadowy figured is in the background watching. I clutch Peeta’s shoulders tighter shying away from where the phantom figure would be.

“Prim?” I scold.

"No, it’s fine. I should be used to it by now. At least I know where that one’s gonna end up. There are news reporters at school everyday. They started as soon as it got released that I… "found” you that night, or because I fought Cato. I’m not sure which. They take pictures of me coming out of the house. Going to work. My mom is actually kinda happy that the bakery is on TV. It draws people in. But, they’re really everywhere.“ Peeta tells us.

"Peeta, you found me? I thought I ran away.” I ask confused.

“You did. You ran into the gym, screamed, and collapsed. I was just the first to… to see you, so I just caught you before you completely hit the ground. Delly called the ambulance. Finnick put his jacket under your head. We put Thom’s jacket over you, and then, when I saw Cato walk into the gym with scratches on his cheek. I sort of blacked out. I remember being on top of Cato hitting him in his face over and over. When they pulled me off of him… you were already gone. I didn’t see you again until the hospital. I was so scared that you didn’t make it.” Peeta confirms.

“Thank you. I’m so sorry they won’t leave you alone. My lawyer… Uh, Haymitch Abernathy should be able to help with that. He can get like a restraining order or something. From your house and the bakery. Unless your mom wants them there.” I say.

My lawyer can handle that? Ugh! I sound so pretentious.

“God sorry. My mom must sound like some sort of huge capitalist. She is really sorry about what happened. Even though she gave me an earful for interfering the way I did. But my Dad and brothers are proud of me. So… and I’m gonna shut up now.” He says.

“No, it’s fine really. I’d much rather them be at the bakery, then following my every move, if you guys don’t mind.” I respond.

“Ok, Sweetheart. Time to go.” Haymitch says walking up to us.

“Oh ok. Haymitch, this is Peeta Mellark. Peeta, Haymitch. He needs some help with the paparazzi stalking him.” I explain.

“Here you go kid. Call my office.” Haymitch says, handing Peeta his card.

“Uh, thanks.” Peeta says.

“Bye, Peeta.” Prim says hugging Peeta before walking away.

“Peeta, sweet boy. See you later.” My mom tells him while putting one hand on his cheek, earning a small smile from him.

“Bye Katniss.”

“Bye Peeta.” I say, before turning to leave.

A few days later I’m in Haymitch’s office. We’re going over my testimony for the trial when Peeta walks in.

“Good. You’re here.” Haymitch barks.

“Hey Katniss. How are you?” Peeta greets me.

“Okay and you?” I reply.

“Not bad.” He shoots me a, not quite as bright as usual, Peeta Mellark smile.

We go over every possible scenario. We learn pretty quickly that Peeta doesn’t need much coaching. He’s natural and charming. When he speaks, he looks honest and confident. Haymitch says I have a permanent scowl.

I’m a little jealous.

“Okay. I’ll be the defense. Answer the questions.” Haymitch says.

“Okay.”

“So, Why did you go with him away from everyone, down the hall?” He asks.

“I was thinking he just needed consoling after losing Prom King.” I state.

“And it never occurred to you, the kind of consoling he wanted to do with you?” Haymitch asks aggressively.

Bastard!

“Of course it did! I knew what he and his buddy were up to! I couldn’t wait to be gagged, beaten, and nearly killed!” I yell breathing too hard.

“Not gonna win anybody over with that mouth, Sweetheart.” Haymitch challenges.

“Just be yourself Katniss. The people on the jury are on your side… because you’re telling the truth. They want justice to be served. So don’t be nervous. Just pull from the same courage you used to get out of that room.” Peeta tells, me rubbing my shoulders arms softly.

I nod and take a deep breath. Even though I feel like I suck at this, after another hour of practicing, I finally improve by leaps and bounds.

“Damn, kid. You’re good. You want a job here?” Haymitch cackles at Peeta.

As we’re leaving, I thank Peeta again for his help. We sit down on a bench outside of Haymitch’s office, and he produces a bag of pastries from the bakery.

Mmm cheese buns.

“Oh, thank you Peeta. Prim is gonna be so happy.” I say and so am I.

“It’s no big deal. Can I ask you something?” Peeta inquires.

“Sure.”

“Are you sleeping okay?” He asks, and then looks down at the ground.

“Did Annie tell you about my nightmares? It’s… they’re nothing… really.” I deny.

“Oh. No. Annie didn’t say anything. I… I’ve been having bad dreams.” He admits.

I’m shocked. I thought it was just me, and I don’t admit it to anyone. Here Peeta is, trusting me with this information.

“I… I dream about not being able to breathe and not being able to use my hands. I also dream that Prim is in danger. She kinda is, really with Snow still out there. I’ve been made to go see a therapist. Dr. Aurelius. He says it’s normal to have some post-traumatic stress after… traumatic things happen to us. Maybe that’s what you are experiencing.” I offer.

“Well, in most of my dreams I’m running. I’m frantically trying to find you. I’m pushing through every door. I check every person I run into, but they are all the same person. They’re all Snow. They all have on the same grey suit, but I can’t see their face. And then I tackle someone. I’m punching the unknown person in the face and there’s… so much blood. And then I see that it’s Cato I’ve been punching, but he’s smiling… and there’s nothing wrong with his face. And I just feel like… I’ve failed. I fail you every time.” Peeta says and he’s sweating a little by the time he’s done reliving his nightmare.

Poor Peeta.

I wasn’t the only one severely altered by the events of that night.

“Peeta. I’m so sorry. I’m safe now. I’m all right now. And I need you to be ok, too. If you ever wake up and need to, call me. Just do it. Okay? I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night.” I plead pulling him into a hug.

“Okay.” He whispers in my hair.

Peeta decides he’ll also start seeing Dr. A.

He calls me that night around 2:00 am, and we talk about everything. From hobbies, family, our dislikes and favorite things. Over the next few weeks it becomes routine. We call each other every night.

Many times we fall asleep on the phone. Once I even wake up in the morning, and realize that we never hung up. When I put the phone to my ear… I say hello, and he answers. We laugh for what seems like the longest time, for the first time, since Prom.

Slowly, it feels like we’re starting to heal.

“Katniss, I’m sorry I was so dismissive when you and Wiress tried to ask me about Glimmer.” He tells me one night, over the phone, after waking from a nightmare.

I’ve got him on speaker so I have both hands free. I stop mid swipe of the toenail polish I’m applying to my pinky toe.

“Peeta, you don’t have to apologize for anything. I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“No way. You’ll never have to apologize to me.” He says yawning.

“Never? Even if I… ate all the cheese buns in your store and didn’t pay?” I joke.

“No apology needed.”

“Even if I, told everyone how much you still love the Teletubbies?”

Tinkie-Winkie, Dipsy, La La, Po.

“Kat, I told you that in confidence. That would suck. But… no you still wouldn’t need to apologize.” He grumbles.

“What if I drank all of your unsweetened tea at lunch and the restaurant was all out?”

“So there’s only sweet tea left in the restaurant?” He asks.

“In all the restaurants, everywhere.” I state dramatically.

“Umm, no you still don’t have to apologize. I’ll drink water. And don’t say there’s no more water.”

We laugh.

“Okay, okay. If I crash your car?” I ask.

“Nope, don’t have one. No apologizes necessary.”

“Peeta, when you get a car, you’ll be singing a different tune.”

“Nope.”

“How about… set your favorite apron on fire.”

“I wouldn’t even be mad. I’d be impressed you found the kitchen.” He teases. “Still no apology needed.”

“Hardy har-har. But what if I stopped eating gluten, Master Baker? Huh?”

“I’d make you gluten-free bread. Duh.”

“Ugh, I would need to say sorry at some point, for something. So out with it, Mellark. Tell me so I’m aware of my limits.”

“I can’t think of one thing. Oh, except if you never sang again I’d be pretty sad, so you’d need to apologize to the world.”

“How did you- When have you hear me sing?”

“In first grade. Actually, might’ve been kindergarten.”

I’m giggling. Clearly he’s delirious.

“What? What was I singing?” I ask skeptical of his memory.

“I don’t know? Some song about a valley or tree. Whatever it was, you sounded amazing. And all the birds outside even stopped to listen. I new then.”

I’m so shocked by what he’s telling me, I’ve given up on my second set of toenails and can barely screw the lid closed. The song he’s recalling, my dad used to sing to us. I don’t know how he remembers that.

“What did you know then?” I ask taking him off speaker and holding the phone to my ear.

Light snores float through the phone.

“Goodnight, Peeta.”

Five weeks have gone by since the night of the Prom. The trial is beginning. It feels like a circus, until Judge Paylor sends every reporter and journalist out of the courtroom.

My family and friends are here. According to my team, it’s a clear, cut and dry case. Haymitch convinces D.A. Flickerman to hit Cato with rape of a minor and attempted murder. There are opening statements from both sides. Then they present the evidence.

“Her blood alcohol content was only 0.020. You can legally operate a vehicle at 0.050. When arrested, that scumbag had a BAC of 0.080 and he was on high ecstasy!” Flickerman yells as a counter to Cato’s attorneys claim that I was drunk and wanted to be with him.

There are testimonies from Prom chaperones, and medical examiners from the hospital I was brought to.

“I was appalled to see the damage done to Miss Everdeen. She couldn’t open her right eye. Her jaw was fractured. She had a bruised windpipe, and larynx. Her Sat O levels we’re alarmingly low. Which means she wasn’t getting enough air. She had two cracked ribs and many others that were bruised. She had so many hand shaped bruises all over her neck, arms, thighs and especially her wrists. I’m surprised she was able to get away. She was close to death when she arrived.” Dr. Octavia relayed to the court.

The photos are hard on the girls. Annie takes Prim and Rue out of the courtroom crying. Wiress and Delly just hold onto each other. There’s a stenographer typing quietly away while everyone speaks. I see her tear up twice. Even most of the jury had tears in their eyes. I hold my mom’s hand. And Peeta hold’s my other under the table.

Peeta is called to the stand when we get to the subject of Snow.

“So you saw a suspicious looking guy in the hall while you were looking for your friend… and nothing told you to get close enough to see his face?” The opposing lawyer asks Peeta.

“My friends and I noticed Katniss was no longer in the gym. We split up to look for her. I knew she wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye to us. Some of our group went to the parking lot to see if they were outside. Cato’s car was still there. I asked a few kids at the dance if they’d seen what direction she went in. Something told me to check the hallway even though it was dimly lit down there. I saw a guy in the hallway and he was leaned up against a locker. The way he stood, left his face just out of the light. I asked him if he’d seen Katniss, or anyone, but he said that nobody had been down the hallway. I was just so frantic to find her that I didn’t want to waste time talking to anyone who didn’t have information about Katniss. I knew Cato had her. I just had to get to her.” Peeta tells everyone.

“You say you knew Cato had her? Is it possible you were maybe jealous, of the fact that Cato was there with Katniss, instead of you? That maybe she wanted to sleep with him?” The lawyer accuses.

“Objection, your honor! Leading the witness.” Haymitch yells.

“Sustained. Counselor stop leading the witness.” Judge Paylor says.

“Okay. Ok, so you say that you knew Cato had her. Please tell us how.”

“I suppose I couldn’t have known for sure. But I knew something was wrong. Cato just struck me as not a good guy. We play football together and he’s selfish, and has a temper.” Peeta explained.

“No further questions Your Honor.”

At one point they tried to charge Peeta with assault against Cato but the Judge threw it out for wasting her time. Calling it “A fight between teenage boys, with more pressing matters at hand”.

And finally, they put me on the stand. Dr. A has made me push through telling the horrible memories and face my fears. So I’m prepared for this day.

“Can you tell us what made you run when you did?” Caesar Flickerman asks.

“I overheard… Snow say that… that they would have to get rid of my… body because Cato thought he’d killed me. I wanted to be dead but… but I had my sister to think about. I had to protect her from people like them. I didn’t want anything to happen to her or any other girl those two might do this to. If I died no one would know what monsters they were.” I say angrily.

“Well, thank you Katniss. You sure are brave.” Caesar says to me. “Your witness, Counselor.”

“Miss Everdeen, you say that you wanted to console my client because you didn’t win Prom King and Queen. Did you feel like you owed him something?”

“Well, no. I just felt bad because he seemed to want it so badly. If I had known Ca- he was on drugs I would never have walked anywhere with him. Up until then I had my misgivings about him, but he’d been a gentleman and showed me kindness. I never thought… that he would take advantage of me being kind back.” I answer choking up.

I look to Peeta because he helped me with the wording of my answers so I wouldn’t breakdown in front of all these people.

“Mmm, hmm. And so your kindness was to drug him and then claim rape, after you slept with him?” He accuses.

I wasn’t prepared for that.

The whole courtroom is up in arms screaming at the lawyer.

“She is the victim, you ass-hat!” Gale yells.

“Douché bag! Of course has a douché bag lawyer!” I hear Finnick bellow.

“Bullshit!” Thom says.

“Yeah. Leave her alone!” Prim’s voice is muddled in with the Boo’s that are being yelled throughout the courtroom.

“This is outrageous!” Caesar yells.

“Order! I will have order in this courtroom! Order!” Judge parlor smacks the gavel repeatedly and I feel a migraine coming on.

“Your honor, my client maintains that he was drugged unwillingly and unbeknownst to him.”

“I object. She did not drug the defendant. Where would she have gotten drugs?” Caesar points out.

The two lawyers are facing off, getting closer to the bench.

“I don’t know, maybe her real boyfriend. Mr. Mellark is a very popular guy. They could’ve concocted this whole elaborate ruse to-“

“Oh, shut the hell up, Crane! You know my client is innocent of any wrongdoing. That’s all hearsay, your honor. Miss. Everdeen and Mr. Mellark’s friendship is not on trial here.” Haymitch throws out.

“Abernathy, language!” Judge Paylor warns.

I look at Cato who’s smirking, and he puckers his lips at me, like he’s blowing me a kiss.

I start to cry, and I’m having a hard time breathing. Just as I’m about to get up, Peeta stands up and I freeze. My mom is pulling at his sleeve. But he ignores her and grabs the tissue box near the end of the table.

Everyone making noise and yelling and the Judge telling the bailiffs to get the crowd under control, all stop. It all stops and Peeta quietly and slowly hands the tissue box to me.

“It’s okay Kat. Just breathe.” He tells me taking one of my hands.

I nod and we take two deep breaths. We share a small smile and just as calmly, he goes as sits back down.

No one makes a sound.

“Thank you Mr. Mellark. Miss Everdeen can you continue?” The Judge asks me.

I nod my confirmation.

“Crane, overruled. Anymore outburst from anyone will be held accountable.” Paylor states.

“Miss Everdeen, did you enjoy yourself with my client at all the evening in question?” Crane asks me.

“I did, until they announced the Prom court.” I answer honestly.

“What changed?”

“I- I left like he was disappointed and angry, but also sad. I didn’t want to finish the date with him, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings after he’d just been let down. But after we started walking down the hall and I realized he was off, I now know he was probably high, I started feeling less sad for him and more worried about his health.” I explain.

“Why didn’t you call for help?”

“I was about to when Snow came and not only startled me, but accused me of being a bad date and essentially, leading my date on.” I spit.

“And were you? Leading him on?”

“I… no. I didn’t-“

“When you said and I quote, “Something changed.” and, you didn’t want to finish the date. Isn’t it Peeta Mellark what changed your mind about my client?” Crane asks.

“Objection, putting words in her mouth.” Caesar claims.

“You don’t have to answer that. How about after you danced with Mr. Mellark, huh? Isn’t that when you decided you were no longer interested in Mr. Johnson?” Crane asks.

“Peeta is my friend. He was concerned and he looks out for me, like all my friends do. I should’ve trusted my own instincts and said no to the date in the first place, and then again not to drink alcohol with Cato, and finally not to leave Peeta’s side to appease Cato’s wounded ego. You can act like that’s inappropriate or leading behavior if you’d like. But no matter who it is in your life, when you find someone who makes you feel safe, you’d rather be near them, than with people who don’t.” I look at Cato who isn’t smirking anymore. “I should’ve told you I didn’t feel the same way about you as you did me. And yes it took me well into the date to realize that. But I never told you, you could have a piece of me just because you were nice for a couple of hours. No means no. And not saying anything doesn’t mean yes.”

The tears are openly falling now and although I feel embarrassed and vulnerable, I don’t feel like he can victimize me anymore. He doesn’t hold any power over me. I will never let him hurt me or someone else again.

The defense didn’t want to put Cato on the stand, probably because he was guilty, Haymitch had quipped. But Caesar put him on and asked about Snow.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about, I never had anyone grab her. I don’t know this Snow and she wanted to hook up. I mean, I don’t remember much. Because I, uh, think someone spiked my drink. But, she was kissing me all night and I thought we were good together.” Cato stares in my direction lying his ass off.

The real clincher was when three girls from our school and two from another school in our district, came forward on either the news or as actual character witnesses Caesar put on the stand. All of the girls stated they’d either been inappropriately propositioned or touched by Cato in some way by him.

One girl in particular stated that Cato took her to the very teachers lounge I was assaulted in. He began telling her that he was an office aid and could do whatever he wanted at school. Then he started kissing her and when things were going too far for her, he wouldn’t let her up. If it wasn’t for it being during school hours and another aid trying to come in trough the locked door, she felt certain he would’ve gotten what he wanted whether she wanted to or not.

The defense had a field day with how convenient the timing was for these girls to show up now that it could land them on TV. But the girl’s testimony about the teachers lounge matched up with rumors about Cato getting caught in the teacher’s lounge that many other people could and would testify to.

Cato Johnson is found guilty on all counts. He is tried as an adult because his 18th birthday was only three days away.

The day we are scheduled to hear the sentencing, I wake up emotionally drained, exhausted from lack of sleep, and nauseous. I call Peeta.

“It’s ok just keep breathing. It’s almost over, then you never have to see him again.” Peeta reassures me.

“I know but Snow’s still out there somewhere.” I say feeling more and more queasy.

“Katniss, I will never let him hurt you again. You understand that?” Peeta promises.

“Yes but- Ugh…” I start but drop the phone… to vomit. After emptying my stomach, rinsing my mouth and picking up the phone, I hear Peeta yelling.

“Katniss! Are you ok? Should I call the police? Where’s your mom? Katni-”

“It’s okay. I had to throw up. I guess I’m nervous. I’ll see you at the courthouse.” I say.

“You sure? I could come over and-”

“No it’s alright. And thanks Peeta.” I say still feeling sick.

When Judge Paylor announces the Twenty-year sentence, in a state penitentiary, Cato cries. His father isn’t there. I heard he isn’t really in his life. His mother cries but holds her new husband, for support. Cato’s own Stepfather was a character witness against him. Stating Cato is an angry person. Who does drinks too much, smoke weed and has a problem with authority.

Most people, like Cesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith, look pleased with the sentence. My mom and Prim hug me as Peeta shakes Haymitch’s hand. When they take Cato away in hand cuffs, he looks into my eyes and all I see is hate.

Ugh! I must have the flu.

I haven’t told anyone about the throwing up or that it’s happened every morning since the sentencing. Not even Peeta. I see my graduation cap sitting on my bed and hope that I can make it through the ceremony without the rest of my breakfast making a reappearance.

“Katniss, can I borrow a pad?” Prim yells from the bathroom.

“Yeah, help yourself. They’re under the sink.” I call out.

“Thaaanks sis. You’re a lifesaver. Wait, is this the same box we bought you from…”

It takes me about thirty seconds to realize my sister is confused because, I shouldn’t have that many left.

Oh My God!

No! NO!

“Kat-” My sister stops in her tracks when she sees that I am slumped to the floor and hysterical.

“What’s wrong? Mooooom!” Prim yells and sits next to me on the floor putting her arms around me.

“Prim, what is it?” Mom says bursting into my room.

“I don’t know she… she just started crying and, I don’t know.” Prim cries.

I realize the gasps and wailing are coming from me and I pound the ground with my fist.

“No honey! Hold on to us! Breathe, Katniss!” Mom says grabbing my hands and hugs me tight to keep me from flailing round. “Prim what happened right before this? Did she see something or someone?”

“I don’t know. I was in the bathroom. I just asked her for a pad. I thought it was weird that she still has the same box we bought her from that day at the hospital. No one was here but me, mom.” Prim explains.

My sobs are a little quieter now.

Does she know?

“I see. Oh, Prim can you get your sister some Tylenol and a glass of water?” Mom asks efficiently sending her away.

“M…m… Mom! Mom? Why?” I bawl.

“Oh sweetie, I was afraid of this. I just thought maybe… maybe the odds were in our favor. I’m so sorry. It’s going to be okay. We can do, whatever you want to do. I know you planned on going to school and you have dreams and goals and. And… you don’t have to keep it. Or… or maybe we can find a good home…” She says trying to comfort me but actually causing renewed vigor to my tears.

I can’t be a mother right now!

How can I possibly carry that monster’s child?

Could I live with the decision to kill it?

Could I give a baby that’s half me, away?

Would I only see its father every time I look at it?

“You don’t have to decide today. You are graduating today. Try to focus on that and we’ll deal with this tomorrow, okay baby?” She says tears now falling down her cheeks.

At graduation, I’m a wreck. But I try to do what my mom asks and put it away until tomorrow. I walk across the stage and as I grab the hand of Mrs. Atala, I look into the sea of smiling faces for my family. I see someone in the crowd, a familiar face. Snow’s face… And then it’s black.

When I come too, Peeta, my mom, and two of the faculty are fanning programs in front of me. They’ve pulled me behind the stage. So they can continue the program.

“Katniss?” I hear my name.

He’s out there!

“Katniss, can you hear me?” Peeta calls gently.

Peeta, he came back! What does he want?

“Please wake up sweetie.” Mom sounds close tears again.

Someone stop him!

“S… Sn… Snow.” I say softly, feeling dizzy.

“Snow? It’s June honey.” A teacher says.

“Peeta, Snow is here.” I say again groggy but determined not to let him get away.

“Where, Katniss? In the crowd?” Peeta asks angrily.

I knew he would believe me.

I nod yes and try to sit up. Peeta takes off running. My mom finally connecting the dots gets her phone, to call the police.

Peeta searches the crowd but never sees anyone with white hair. I explain what happened to the police. They have to continue the rest of the ceremony. There are too many people to stop and question.

Bastard! He got away again!

“He knew he could slip in and out of this crowd. He just wants to scare you Katniss. Don’t worry. Okay?” Peeta tries to reassure me.

Then against everyone’s advice, I opt to not go to the hospital and stay after, to take pictures and say goodbye to some friends.

Marvel got a scholarship to a school in Arizona. Blight is joining the military. Navy, I think. Thresh is going to college in here California but closer to Los Angeles.

Finnick is going to take a year off to travel Europe. Fully funded by his wealthy parents. Somehow, Annie’s guardian, her grandmother, whom we call Mags, is letting her go with Finn, or maybe because Mags totally loves him.

BeeTee and Wiress both being brainiacs, got accepted to Harvard. But they both turned them down to go to MIT. Which I think is funny and sad, seeing as how both schools are in Boston, but that means that they are both going so far away.

Thom got a full ride to Howard University. He’s the first one in his family to go to college. He’s planning on joining the Omega Psi Phi or “Q Dogs” as he calls them. It has been his dream since he was little to go there.

Howard is in D.C. six hours from where Delly is supposed to go. Her SAT’s scores were one of the highest in the county. We are all very proud. It’s Delly’s parents that want her to go to Yale. She also got accepted to Brown, Duke, and Howard.

She tried to convince her parents to let her go to Howard, but they said absolutely not. They said that she wasn’t going to follow her high school crush, to a “black college” to throw her life away.

Delly’s dad yelled at her to grow up and do as she’s told. She told them Thom is not her crush. He’s her soul mate and they were going to find a way to be together, there’s nothing they could do to stop her.

Peeta told me he applied to several schools. Got accepted to his third and fourth choice, both out of state. But he said that he really wants to take over his family’s bakery someday. So he thinks he might just go to school for business at a local school and stay close to home.

I have to admit, I was selfishly glad to hear this at first. I guess, I really thought that one day, when we were better, maybe he would ask me on that date. He said he would but now that I’m in the situation I find myself. Part of me hopes he’ll go away to school and find a nice girl. I feel like no matter what I choose to do about this baby. It’s like I’m damaged goods and as much as I was trying to forget that. I can’t. And Peeta deserves better.

Then again maybe I should leave. I’m always going to be known here, as the girl who was raped at her Prom. I feel so exposed here.

Vulnerable.

Stupid.

Weak.

Things I never thought I was.

Haymitch get’s a call from his friend at the police, saying that they’re doing what they can to look for Snow. He doesn’t want me alone for the rest of the night, just to be safe.

After saying goodbye to all my other friends, Peeta invites us to eat dinner with his family. I’m not sure if we should, but after the long day, I am really hungry.

We go to a restaurant in Peeta’s part of town. I worry it is too expensive but, Haymitch tells us it’s taken care of on the drive there.

“Call it a graduation gift, Sweetheart.” The old man mumbles.

We meet Peeta’s dad and mom and two brothers. Apparently, my mom and Peeta’s dad knew each other in high school. Peeta’s mom doesn’t say much but she seems pleasant enough.

His brothers are very nice and joke with Prim and Peeta about having the same true blue eyes. Peeta’s oldest brother Graham has light brown eyes like his mother. And the middle Mellark, Ryan, has a lighter blue-grey ones like Peeta’s dad.

I’m pretty quiet. I’m still a little freaked out by this morning’s revelation and then seeing Snow’s face. I don’t eat all my food. I excuse myself to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, after washing my hands, I bump into Peeta’s mom.

“Oh, hey Mrs. Mellark. Sorry, I didn’t see you.” I say apologetically.

“It’s fine. You and my son have become very close friends.” She says.

I’m not sure if it’s meant to be a question or a statement. So I just smile and shrug.

“Yes… he… he’s been there for me through all of this and I hope that he knows how much I appreciate him… for all he’s done.” I try to relate.

“Yes. He is a sweet boy and generous to a fault. I just hope… if you’re his friend… you wouldn’t try to hold him back, now would you?” She asks.

“No, I would never… what do you mean?” I ask.

I’m so confused. Did he say something?

“Peeta needs to fulfill his destiny. He should be going to school. But I fear that he is so worried about you. You see, I don’t think he wants to leave you, maybe out of some sense of obligation. And I’m sure you had things you wanted to do, before this unfortunate event. So I just think, if you truly care about him. Like I think you do, you’d tell him to live his life to it’s full potential. As if he would’ve before… this. So you can both go on and find happiness. You understand, right dear?” Mrs. Mellark tells me.

She has the tone you use to tell your kids their goldfish died.

He doesn’t want to leave me?

But I’d be holding him back.

Does he feel obligated to me?

My head is spinning. I guess I’ve been rationalizing the same things she’s telling me. But I find myself already missing Peeta from my life.

I wish I could go back…

Back in time and tell Cato no to Prom…

And that Peeta would’ve asked me instead.

And that we… we…

Oh, who am I kidding?

I’d still be from the wrong side of the tracks.

I’ll always be holding Peeta back.

“I understand. I just want Peeta to be happy.” I answer.

“I always knew you were a good girl. Thank you for being such a good friend to my boy, looking out for his best interest. You have to find your destiny too.” She says and hugs me but I feel like I might cry.

My destiny?

I don’t think I have one anymore.

I let go and walk back to the table and whisper to my mom I’d like to go soon.

“Hey everything ok?” Peeta asks me quietly outside the restaurant.

“Uh… Yeah I. I’m fine just tired and.” I trail off not knowing what else to say.

“Ok. Well can I text you later? I was hoping we could talk alone but, with everyone here.” He says quieter and smiles.

I’ve come to crave that smile.

It brightens my day like few things can.

“Okay just wait till nine. I should be home by then.” I whisper not looking him in the eyes.

I want to tell him goodbye then. It’s better if I let him go with a clean break. But I can’t deny him anything. I owe him too much. And I know it’ll start a conversation we shouldn’t have in front of everyone.

Peeta hugs me before I leave and I hold on for a little too long.

“You sure you’re alright?” He asks softly in my ear.

I’m gonna miss you.

Your safe hugs.

Your kind eyes.

Your friendship.

“Yeah. I’m good just tired like I said.” I lie.

When Haymitch drops us off he says a black and white is patrolling the area. And if we hear anything suspicious don’t hesitate to call the police or him.

We thank him again and say goodnight. I go to my room and right on time, I get a text from Peeta.

Peeta- Hey so thanks for coming to dinner. I know it was a stressful day.

Katniss- More than you realize. But it’s no problem. I liked your family.

Peeta- Thank you for saying that. So I’ve been thinking a lot about what to do now that I’m out of high school. How about you?

Without even thinking, I text…

Katniss- I’m going away to school soon.

Peeta- Really?

Katniss- Yeah, I got accepted to a music school. I write music. Well I used to. And I need to get away from this town and everyone in it. I have such bad memories here, from my Dad to Prom. I don’t feel like myself anymore since, what happened. I need to get back to what I loved. That’s music and my family. And I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder for Snow. He already occupies a lot of my nightmares. You should get away too. If that’s what you want.

Peeta- Oh. I didn’t know you felt that way. But I guess understand. That’s great that you got accepted to a music school! I’m happy for you. Where is the school?

I don’t answer.

Peeta- Katniss?

Katniss- Peeta, I care about you. Thank you for all you’ve done. Most people wouldn’t have. You are a special person. You should go to school. Make new friends and don’t let what happen to me, hold you back. I just want us both to heal and move on. I have so much on my plate right now and I need to get away and distance myself from what happen to me. Fresh start. You can stop worrying about me.

Peeta- Katniss, where is this coming from? You’ve helped me just as much as I’ve helped you. I know you have a lot on your plate and you deserve a fresh start. But don’t you want to be friends anymore? You don’t want me to know where you’ll be?

Katniss- It’s hard for me to look at you and not remember what we’ve been through. I just need time. To figure out what I need. I think you should just let me go.

Peeta- So that’s it? This is goodbye?

Katniss- I guess so. I will always remember your friendship.

Peeta- It will always be yours. Always.

It will always be mine.

Be mine.

After a shower and a cup of tea my mom made me, I finally decide to talk about the baby. Prim goes to bed and my mom sits down and hugs me.

“Mom. I didn’t even think I wanted kids. I can’t have Cato’s baby.” I start.

“I know you feel that way because of how much you’ve had to raise your sister, but if you go through with… not having it. You need to be prepared, emotionally for that. I’ve looked up some things and left pamphlets on your bed. Plus there is always adoption.” She states.

“I wasn’t finished. I can’t have Cato’s baby. But… I don’t know if I can just get rid of a baby, who didn’t ask to be here. It didn’t do anything wrong and I am the one to blame. I made the stupid mistakes that led up to its existence. I just don’t want to ever think of it as Cato’s baby, because it isn’t his. It’s mine.” I say.

Peeta is right.

It will always be… mine.

“Oh Katniss, you didn’t do anything wrong either. It is your baby. And that’s okay with me. I’m very proud that you made this decision with such maturity. I will try and support you however I can.” Mom says.

We hug and she says she will make an appointment for me to see an Ob/Gyn. Tears silently fall but I’m much more composed than earlier.

I’m having a baby.

A month and a half later, Rue doesn’t come home from the store. Her mom sent her at four in the afternoon, and at six she calls our house, thinking maybe she just got caught up with Prim.

“No, Miss Rooba. I haven’t seen her since this morning. Yes. Did you text her?” Prim says.

“Prim what is it?” I whisper, she shakes her head and keeps talking.

“Ok. Yes mam’. I’ll let you know. Bye. That was Rue’s mom she can’t find her. I’m gonna text Vic he probably knows where she is.” Prim says but she sounds a little worried.

“You think she’s with Vic?” I ask.

“She’s not answering texts or calls.” Prim says.

There’s a familiar car screech outside. Then banging in the front door.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

“Catnip!” Gale shouts.

We let him in and following behind him is Vic, Rory, his little sister Posy. Then from down the street come Thom and Jo holding little C.J.

“What’s going on?” I say freaking out.

“I came to make sure Rue wasn’t here and ask if you’d seen Vic. But I saw him in the car as Gale drove down the street.” Thom tells us.

Jo nods in agreement.

“Okay, what are you doing here?” I ask Gale.

“It’s me… I wanted to come.” Vic speaks up.

“You know where Rue is?” Thom asks Vic angrily.

Vic has tears in his eyes and I feel sick.

“No… Not exactly. We… I’ve been texting her like all morning. She texted me she was going to the store. But then, she said that she thought someone was following her, so she said I should go to her house if I didn’t hear back from her in 15 minutes. But I fell asleep!” Vic starts crying.

“What time was it? Let me see your phone.” Jo says and I grab the sleeping toddler from her.

“It was 4:10 and he fell asleep and then woke up to an unfinished text. At 5:55 he showed it to me. Rory just got Prim’s text about Rue not being home yet so we rushed over here.” Gale says.

Rue where are you?

“What does the unfinished text say?” I ask.

Gale looks at me.

“Vic, I’m scared. I luv u and fam. Tell Kat he died? It stops there.” Jo says and then it’s eerily quiet.

Who died?

“Call the police now!” Thom yells.

“Kat?”

“No. I don’t know who he is or who died.” I respond to Gale.

“But why did she spell it d, y, e anyway. She’s so good at spelling.” Vic says still crying.

Dyed?

“Hello? I think my sister was kidnapped! No she was walking home from the store. No she wouldn’t run away and all her friends can’t find her. My mom is driving around looking for her right now. But-” Thom takes the phone outside.

“I’m going to the store to see if anyone saw her.” Gale says.

“I’m going with you!” Prim shouts.

“Me too!” Both younger Hawthorne boys say at the same time.

This can’t be happening.

“Please find her, Gale.” Jo says taking C.J. back and sits down.

“Leave Posy with us. Just go.” I say.

After they leave I call Haymitch.

“Ok, Sweetheart. I got it you don’t want Coin on it cause she rubs you wrong. I’ll get my friend Boggs. Tell Thom to take a recent picture to the station. He and his mom need to fill out missing person forms and we’ll try to get an Amber Alert out. How many hours has it been?” Haymitch says after I explained everything to him.

“About two and a half hours. Haymitch do you think this was…” I ask.

“No need in jumping the gun here. Let’s get more facts. Have you called… Golden boy? He could help you. At least for support.” Haymitch asks.

He means Peeta.

“He needs to get ready to leave for college Haymitch. Not get dragged into more of my problems. We haven’t spoken since graduation night.” I say sadly.

“You could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve that boy. Don’t you get it, girl? He wants to be by your side.” He fusses at me.

“Haymitch we don’t have time for this right now, okay?” I yell and hang up.

He won’t want to be by my side.

Not when I’m 9 months pregnant with someone else’s baby.

My phone rings.

“Catnip, so I’ve been asking around and Rue came in the store. Bought ketchup. And looked at a magazine for a couple of minutes then left. Who ever followed her was probably in the store. She walked to the corner and then turned like she was taking the short cut home. Even though Vic says her mom doesn’t like her to because of the cars going fast and she’d have to cross with no cross walk.”

“But Gale how could someone take her without anyone noticing? And how do you know she went that way-”

“Katniss, we just found the ketchup. It was in the park.” He says.

I hear Vic and Rory yelling and then wind.

“She crossed the street and then probably started running cause the bag has a rip. It’s farther away from the bottle but her receipt is in it. Dammit! He took her from the Park!” Gale says out of breath.

God please let her be okay.

“Oh God. Okay, I’ll call you back.” I end tears falling down my face.

“What is it?” Jo asks.

“Has Rue ever said anything about being followed ever before?”

“No.” I say.

“Do you know who would want to hurt her?”

He wants to hurt me.

“No.” I say.

“Had she always seemed like a happy kid or would she maybe want to get away from her family for any reason?”

You’re wasting time. It was Snow!

“No. She is happy and wouldn’t run away.” I say.

“Ok your done. Sign here.” Officer Lyme tells me.

After another two hours have passed, we’re all simultaneously, being questioned by officers, outside of Rue’s house.

“I already told you. No one would want to hurt my little sister, Man!” Thom shouts frustratedly.

Even with help from Boggs, they have to wait for approval to put out the Amber Alert. Apparently, because we don’t have a name, or description of who took her, also, because she is 14 instead of 2-10 year old? This is supposedly based on the “best judgment” approach.

So they’ve sent out uniforms to get info from us to question the store workers, the passers by at the time of the incident, and to look for more clues.

Since my neighborhood is crawling with cops, the news vans are back once again. Setting up camp exactly one hundred yards from where I’m sitting.

The reporters have already found out we think Rue was taken. I could say I’m upset, but because we don’t have an Amber Alert, they are actually proving themselves useful for something.

“Katniss! Katniss Everdeen! Effie Trinket, with channel 9 news. Can you tell us how you feel after everything you’ve been through, to now have a dear friend, abducted? Do you think it is the handy work of the elusive "Snow” character you keep claiming helped your own attacker?“ Effie yells at me from behind yellow caution tape.

"Shut up Effie.” Haymitch says pushing past her.

“Manners! Really Abernathy!” Effie shrieks at him.

Wonder how they know each other.

Haymitch shows the police officer his badge and they let him through.

“Hey, Look lady. My mom has my son in the house and he needs me, so could you hurry these questions along.” I hear Jo fussing at her questioning Officer, in the background.

They finished questioning Gale and Rory and Prim so I asked them to take Prim to their house. Thom and I just finished. I said I would stay with Vic till he was done. Haymitch went into my house to make some calls. My mom came home as soon as she heard, and is inside with Thom and Rooba.

“Ok, so you say that she had a feeling someone was following her, but she didn’t seem scared at first? Right?” Officer Jackson is taking Vic’s statement.

“Yeah, it seemed like she just wanted someone to know. Because, I think if she was scared at that point, she would have texted her brother to come get her or asked me to ask my brother to pick her up. But she maybe started getting closer to home and got scared for some reason, so she took the short cut and started running once she hit the park. She was almost home. She probably just thought she could make it.” Vic says.

Damn! She was so close.

“But then her other text. Makes it seem like she knew the person. So do you think it’s at all possible she is pulling a prank on you? Have you been in any fights lately?” Jackson asks.

“Mam’ I know your son is waiting. And I have family at home too. So the quicker we get through these questions. The quicker I can get outta your hair.” Officer Holmes is taking Jo’s statement and clearly both women are frustrated.

I’m siting in between the two questionings on the curb. Trying to think who died.

What are you trying to tell me Rue?

“No, man. We never fight. I haven’t even told her yet, but I love her. She’s been stressed lately cause Jo keeps getting phone calls from Cori, her baby’s daddy. He said he’s coming and wants to see his son. Plus it was freaking them out because he threatened Jo before about taken C.J. But other than that, she’s been the same.” Vic says.

Cori threatened to take C.J?

“Ok, so like I said yesterday C.J’s dad called and he said meet him around the corner. So I asked her to watch C.J. She rolled her eyes but she wasn’t upset, upset. She just worries about us. We talked after and she was fine.” Jo says.

Cori was around the corner yesterday?

“Calm down, Vic. We aren’t giving up ok?” Jackson says.

“He’s 6'2, light blond hair…” Jo says.

“If anything else comes to you just let us know.” Jackson says.

“No wait, he had blond hair but he dyed it for some reason, but he…”

He dyed it?

“Jo!” I yell.

“What?”

“He Dyed It! She was gonna put he dyed his hair!! Oh my god!” I cry.

Coriolanus. That was the boy who got teased in school! They called him SNOW!

“Cori took her! Cori took Rue!”

•••••••••••••••••

I’m barely able to control myself. I’m shaking with anger. I want to run and go find her now.

Jackson and Holmes just stare at me.

“What?” Vic says.

“Why would he? How do you know…?” Jo says.

Then she gets a far off look in her eyes. It’s hitting her that she seen the sketch of my description of snow and she once thought it looked kinda like him but the hair was too long and he only ever went by Cori with her.

Just then, Haymitch comes out saying the store has tapes from this afternoon and maybe we can find who ever took her. I tell him about Snow and Cori being the same person. I tell Vic to run and tell my mom and Rooba.

"I’m going to the police station with Jo. We are the only two who can identify him as the same person.” I tell Gale on the phone.

“Okay we’ll go to Rue’s and wait for you guys but Katniss? Be careful. Maybe you should call-” Gale says.

“Don’t… Say it. I’m letting him go. Just… please. Let me try to let him go.” I cut him off before he can say Peeta’s name.

“Fine. But he might be able to help and if it means finding Rue quicker.” Gale points out.

Damn you Gale!

“Fine. Just take care of them Gale, till we get back. He’s still out there.” I say frustrated.

“Okay. Your mom says all of you be careful.” He says and hangs up.

She means me, Jo and… her unborn grandchild.

We get in Haymitch’s car and I call Peeta’s phone. It goes straight to voicemail. So, I try texting him. But I still haven’t gotten an answer once we’ve pulled into the station.

“Boggs this is Katniss and Jo. They have both seen this guy. One as Snow and one as Cori.” Haymitch introduces us.

“Okay, to start with, do either of you know his last name and last known address?” Boggs asks.

“No, I don’t but he went to school with me so it could be in the yearbook.” I say.

“I… I don’t know it either.” Jo says ashamed.

No wonder C.J doesn’t have his last name.

“I met him in L.A. I didn’t even know he was from here. So the only address I have, is from there.” She continues.

“Alright, let’s get a Elsinore High School Year book in here.” Boggs yells at I don’t know whom.

“Let me show you girls the store tape.” Officer Holmes says taking us to another office.

After watching ten minutes of four blocked, black and white, fuzzy, footage, we see Rue going in the front. She gets ketchup pays for it. Stops at the magazines for a minute and then walks out.

“Wait, wait. Go back a little.” Jo says pointing at the screen.

Jackson rewinds it.

“There! Cori had on that same black hoodie when he came to see me.” Jo says.

We finish watching the tape the guy follows Rue out of the store. His hoodie is up going in and out so we don’t get a clear shot of his face.

“How could you tell?” I ask.

“The hoodie has a white rose spray painted on the back with some R.I.P and somebody’s graffiti type name.” Jo says.

“Ok. Very good that’s a clear clothes I.D of him; being at the last place she was seen. Now it still could be a coincidence that Cori took Rue, for whatever reason. So we need proof Snow and Cori are the same person.” Jackson says and takes out the tape and puts it in an evidence bag.

I still haven’t heard back from Peeta. Impatient, I call the bakery. His brother Graham picks up.

“Mellark’s bakery. You need hot buns? We got em’. Ouch, Ma! How can I help you?” Graham says clearly having been popped for playing.

“Hey Graham it’s Katniss have you seen-” I start but he cuts me off.

“Ooooh Ryan is looking for you two. He’s pissed Peet hasn’t brought his car back yet.” Graham says.

Looking for us two?

“Oh! Uh… Peeta isn’t with me. Did he say he would be? Haven’t you seen the news?” I ask.

“Yeah he said he had to use Ry’s car to see you and show you something important, and no to the news. We don’t have a T.V in here but I get off and 9:00, when we close. Why?” He asks.

Show me something important? About Snow?

“Rue Mason was kidnapped today at around 4:30 walking back from the store and after a bunch of questioning we figured out it was Joanna’s baby daddy and we think he is Snow. But I haven’t seen Peeta and now I’m worried. He won’t answer his phone.” I tell Graham.

“Shit! Are you serious? Ok look, he took Ry’s car. It has On Star. Ask the police to highjack it or whatever they do to find it. I’m gonna tell my parents. Here, take down my cell phone so you can keep us informed.” Graham says.

“Thanks. Ok.”

After I store his number. And tell Jo and Haymitch what he just told me. Boggs decides that although we are worried about Peeta he hasn’t been missing long enough to cause alarm. So unless we find a link between Cori and Snow and Rue being missing to Peeta being, possibly missing, they are four separate things.

“Fuck that!” Jo yells and slams a desk.

“Calm down! Let’s think.” Haymitch chastises her.

“Ok so can I look up yearbooks online? Jo does Cori have a MySpace or a… a face space?” Jackson asks.

“It’s Facebook. And no. Not that I know of. The number he’s been calling me on is out of service. And the other cop, Holmes ran the plate of the car I saw him get out of. It was stolen and found empty already.” Jo says exasperated.

How the hell did he get Rue to where he took her? Un-noticed, on foot?

“I don’t even know if he went to Elsinore High. I saw him when I was in middle school he was in 8th grade when I was in 6th. That means we need the David A. Brown Middle school year book.” I say also aggravated at our seemingly dead end.

“I know it feels hopeless but the Amber Alert is out with Rue’s picture and Cori’s description and we need to breathe and look through these pictures.” Jackson says.

Okay stay calm and breathe.

God I’m nauseous.

“Thank God! You found the online middle school yearbook.” Jo says.

I text Gale what’s happening with Peeta and the case. So the family is up to speed.

Gale texts me back that he remembers a Cori in his class in middle school. Mr. Leeg’s class specifically, possibly married to my old teacher Mrs. Leeg. It was very helpful. After what seemed like hours…

“That’s him! Coriolanus Thread!” I say pointing at his picture.

“Yeah that’s Cori just younger.” Jo says.

“I knew it.” I say.

Please let Rue and Peeta be ok.

“So we can go to his house and get Rue right?” Jo asks impatiently.

“Okay ladies. Your work is done thank you. We’ll keep you posted as to our investigation.” Coin is standing at the doorway to the office and all of us appear shocked at her presence.

“Well I… we still need to find Peeta.” I say.

“Yes, well in 48 hours if he hasn’t returned, his folks can fill out a missing persons form but you can go home for now. Jackson you’ll escort them home won’t you?” Coin says and I get the feeling she wants us gone.

What is up your ass lady?

“Uh, let’s get you two home then.” Jackson says.

“Haymitch where were you when the dragon lady snuck up on us?” I say kicking his foot.

He fell asleep on a bench beside the vending machine while we looked at the yearbook pictures.

Ugh! And he smells like whiskey.

“What? Who?” Haymitch grumbles but sits up.

“Great brainless! Now your drunk ass can’t drive us home.” Jo says to Haymitch.

He burps. Then Jackson comes over and gathers all the statements and evidence for Rue and Snow/Cori. He puts it in a box. And puts it on his desk.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s been around a long time. He will continue to be around and drink and win cases. Why don’t I get Officer Messalla here to help me drive you all home?” Jackson says.

Messalla smiles at Jackson and says it would be her pleasure. I go in Jackson’s car with Holmes. Jo and Haymitch follow in the car with Messalla and her partner Officer Mitchell.

“Jackson? What if Peeta went looking for Sn- Cori and he got him too?” I ask.

“Well, we don’t know that Peeta did that.” He says.

“Yeah but his brothers car has OnStar if they reported it stolen then you’d have to look for it right?” I ask.

Little does he know, 15 minutes ago, I asked Graham to do that very thing.

“Yes, but Katniss, I’m not about to go looking for it right now with you in the-”

“Be advised. We’ve got a possible 10-16. Dark Blue Chevy Malibu, license number. November-8-Romeo-Yankee-Delta-Romeo. OnStar Navigational says last pinged 1730. It’s located at…” Dispatch says through the car radio.

Yes! Thank you Graham.

“N8RYDR? What is that?” Jackson asks.

“Night Rider.” I say pleased with myself for thinking of the plan and figuring out the license plate.

“Hey uh, Jackson, that address is pretty close. We could check it out real quick.” Messalla’s voice comes through the radio.

“Katniss. You did that didn’t you?” Jackson accuses.

“Jackson, I know they are connected. Please?” I beg.

Meanwhile, in the car behind us, Jo is telling Haymitch why we got kicked out so fast.

“So Coin basically said we no longer need your services. Even though, without you girls they’d have precisely Bubkis? That about right? So what did you two find in the online yearbook?” Haymitch asks her.

“That his last name is Thread.” Jo says.

“Did you say Tread or Thread? As in Romulus Thread.” Haymitch asks.

“T-H-R-E-A-D. Why-”

“Yo, coppers we need to turn this thing around! Now!” Haymitch yells at Messalla and Mitchell.

“What the hell, Haymitch?” Jo yells.

“Hey sir! Calm down, we’re about to investigate The Mellark’s stolen car that Katniss was so eager to find.” Messalla says.

“Jo, do you have a phone?” Haymitch asks her.

“Yeah old man. Are you still drunk?” Jo says.

“Boggs guess what your perps last name is? Thread. Yeah like Romulus Thread. No, I don’t know if she knows just make sure she doesn’t leave.

"Okay, Katniss we are now conducting a ride along. That means you are going with us to check out the stolen vehicle but you are to stay in the car. For all we know Peeta is just with his girlfriend or something.” Jackson says.

Ouch! Why does that sting so bad?

“He doesn’t have a girlfriend.” I mumble under my breath.

Jo texts me that Haymitch said Romulus Thread was Alma Coins Father and ex Chief of Police.

Is Snow related to her?

“Jackson! Alma Coin is Romulus Threads daughter. Why does Cori have the same last name as her father?” I ask.

“Come to think of it. Alma is married, now. So, she could have her husbands last name.” Holmes offers up.

I text Gale with an update. My mom tells him to tell us to come home and let police handle it. Jo gets the same kind of text from Thom.

But Rue is out here and she needs us, and maybe Peeta too.

“Mess, Mitchell, you wanna check it out?” Jackson asks through his radio.

“10-4. We’re on it.” Messalla replies through the radio.

We pull up the address. I can’t see Ry’s car and I’m scared about why it’s here in the first place.

We’re in a poorly lit area and there’s a long driveway leading to a decent sized house. The house only has one light on upstairs. The houses on either side are at least half an acre away. There are a few trees in the surrounding area.

“Katniss can you call Peeta and see if the phone rings?” Jackson asks me.

I do and it rings until it goes to voicemail again. But we see a small blue light in the darkness on the side of the house.

Is Peeta’s phone here?

Where is he?

Is Rue here too?

“Okay M&M. Your up.” Jackson says into the radio.

“Is that your nickname for them?” I ask.

“Yeah, we call Messalla and Mitchell, Slim Shady or M&M. They call me and Holmes, Josh and Katey or Pacey and Joey. So fair is fair.” She says.

“Who? Are those your first names?” I ask.

“Really you’ve never heard of Dawson’s Creek, kid? I keep forgetting how young y-” Holmes is cut off by the radio.

“J, this is the right car but it’s empty. I can hear someone shouting in the house. Should we knock and ask about the vehicle or treat the situation with caution?” Messalla asks almost whispering.

I can’t breathe.

Who’s shouting?

“No don’t knock. Just head back to your car and-"Jackson starts.

"S- someone is coming out if the house we are hiding behind the car. Going silent.” Messalla whispers and then there’s no noise.

“Shit!” Holmes says.

“Katniss I’m going to let you out to go to the other car with Haymitch and Joanna. We have to go back up our officers.” Jackson tells me.

He gets out, opens my door and I run to the car about ten feet behind the one I got out of. When I look back Jackson and Holmes are gone.

“Open the door brainless.” Jo says.

“Now, I know you want to run over there and endanger your life, Sweetheart. But you sit your ass down.” Haymitch tells me.

Jo and I sit on the trunk of the car. Feeling anxious and helpless and hyper aware of my surroundings I see lights coming down the road and tap Jo. She sees it too.

“Haymitch get out of the car.” I whisper.

We close the door quietly and hide behind some trees until the car passes.

“Put your hands up and get on the ground!” Holmes shouts from close to the house.

“Coriolanus! Get in the house!”

“Damn if that didn’t sound like Coin.” Haymitch says.

We start moving closer to the house trying to hide in the shadows.

“Excuse us, Detective Coin, but that man is wanted for questioning. Because this car was reported stolen less than an hour ago and we think he may be the same perp that assisted in the Everdeen rape. So he needs to come with us.” Jackson states as calmly as he can.

“Help!”

“Hey we’re in here!”

“Mess check out the basement!” Holmes yells after hearing two voices coming from under the house.

Rue and Peeta?

Pop! Pop!

“Mitchell!” Messalla screams.

“Stop! Now!” Holmes shouts.

“Lower your weapon Jackson!” Coin yells.

“You lower your weapon! You just shot a fellow officer!” Jackson yells back.

“We have an officer down at 736 Capitol Way. Requesting an ambulance… and back up.”

“What do you want to do Coin? Cori is in handcuffs. You just shot and officer and there are three guns on you. Is this worth it?” Jackson tries to reason with her.

“He’s my son alright! Would it be worth it to you?” Coin says.

Her son?

Jo gasps next to me. It all makes sense now. If Snow is really Cato’s cousin, that means he’s her nephew. No wonder she treated me that way in the hospital when we first met. I told her, her nephew and her son, however inadvertently, raped me.

“Coin, we don’t want anymore blood shed here tonight. What can we do to make that happen?” Jackson negotiates.

There is a loud bang in the house the stomping up stairs and another bang. Followed by the front door opening.

“Let my son go.” Coin orders.

“You know I can’t do that.” Jackson says.

Then I see them. First Rue. Then Peeta.

They’re alive.

Haymitch grabs both Jo and I’s mouth. Good thing cause we both let out muffled screams.

“Shh! You have to be quiet! We may be the only witnesses to this scene.” Haymitch whispers.

We both shake our heads in agreement. So he lets go.

Sirens are headed towards us.

Pop!

Coin shot Jackson!

He falls down. More shots are fired. Holmes shoots Coin in the shoulder. Messalla shoots Coin in the knee.

A shot must go into Peeta and Rues direction toward the house, because Peeta covers Rue and then slumps down to the ground.

Peeta!

Somehow in the shuffle Cori must’ve gotten away. I feel dizzy. They have to catch him.

When will this nightmare end?

Coin is lying on the ground. Jackson gets her gun away from her and starts reading Coin her rights. The ambulance is coming down the driveway. Messalla leaves Mitchell to check on Jackson.

I can’t help it anymore. I run to Peeta and Rue. Jo’s hot on my heels.

“Rue!” Jo calls.

“Jo! Katniss!” Rue cries.

She’s ok!

But Peeta isn’t moving.

“Peeta! Peeta can you hear me?” I yell.

“He saved me.” Rue cries into Jo’s shoulder.

“Peeta? Please be okay.” I say my tears falling onto him.

I lean close to him but try not to crush him. I feel his neck for a pulse. His heart is beating. I check his arms and chest for bullet holes.

“It’s his leg. His leg is bleeding. He’ll be ok right?” Rue asks in a small voice.

“Did that bastard hurt you?” Jo asks Rue.

“No. Peeta wouldn’t let him.” Rue says.

How long was Peeta with her?

“Excuse me miss. Is he hurt?” A paramedic asks me.

“Yes. His name is Peeta Mellark.” I say crying.

I move and let the paramedics do there job. They cart away Mitchell, Jackson, Coin and Peeta. They check Rue. But she’s relatively fine. Messalla and Holmes drive Haymitch, Jo, Rue, and I home.

“I’m sorry he got away again.” Holmes tells me holding it together better than I am.

“I’m sorry about Jackson.” I tell her.

The nightmares I faced last night were the worst I’ve ever had. First, Prim comes in and holds me till I fall back asleep. Then when I scream the second time, mom comes in and lays beside us both.

I stay somewhere between drifting back to sleep and startling myself back awake for the rest of the night. Not to mention having to get up to go pee every two hours or so.

Thanks to mom. I haven’t had as much nausea. She gives me ginger candies to suck on and peppermint tea.

Being pregnant is not without its challenges, but a lot of the time I forget about it until I’m starving or something that used to fit feels irritatingly tight on my lower abdomen. Most of my clothes were always a little baggy though, so no one has noticed anything.

I decide to go see Peeta in the morning. Plus, I want to check on Jackson and Mitchell too. We stop to check on Rue and the family first.

Rue was shaken up but relatively unharmed. We told her how her text message helped us figure out who Snow was. She was as glad as she could be still worrying about Peeta’s injury.

“You really should thank Peeta for his part as well.” Rue tells me.

“Yeah, if he hadn’t gone looking for Snow. We couldn’t have tracked his car to Rue.” Thom says.

“And not to mention Detective Catnip here.” Gale chimes in.

“No really. It was everyone’s effort. Without Jo and Vic I would never have figured out the connection with Snow and Cori. Without Officer Jackson and Holmes, and Messalla, and Mitchell. Coin would have gotten away with covering the whole thing up.” I say still shocked at the events that transpired.

“Hey everybody. Breakfast is ready.” Rooba calls in a voice that we’ve all become accustom to.

Rooba’s blessing over the meal this morning was filled with extra gratefulness to have her daughter was back home safe, well wishes for our families. Also, with hope that Jackson, Mitchell and Peeta recover fast and faith that Cori will be caught and brought to justice for all his crimes.

After we all eat. My mom and I head to the hospital. Unfortunately so has every news reporter in the state it seems.

Boggs called a press conference. As we walk up we see the Mellark family and Holmes and Messalla.

They’re explaining that Coin was apprehended. That with the work of the fine officers involved, they saved Rue and Peeta from Coriolanus Thread, who is indeed the very same rape accomplice, Snow. But that he regrettably got away. They ask if anyone knows his whereabouts to please contact their local authorities.

They mention how heroic Peeta was, and say he was badly hurt but should make a full recovery. Lieutenant Castor Jackson is in critical condition. Officer Pollux Mitchell died of his injuries just an hour ago.

Mitchell’s family comes to the podium and speaks. Next to say a few words is Jackson’s sister. Then finally, Peeta’s dad. I, along with probably most of America, shed a few tears at the things said about these brave men. And Peeta gets included in their honored and distinguished band.

I sneak into the hospital and tip toe in to Jackson’s wing. I get a glimpse of him through a door; before a nurse tells me I can’t be in here, unless I’m family. She recognized me though and tells me she’ll keep my mom informed of his progress. I thank her and leave.

You can survive this Jackson.

I ask one of the officers on guard where Coin is being held. Once they tell me, my feet involuntarily go in the direction of her room. When I get to her room, she has a bandage on her shoulder and she’s handcuffed to the bed by her hands and feet. But she is awake.

“What do you want?” She spits.

To know how you could protect him.

“You knew your son was involved in my rape, didn’t you?” I ask.

“No. He didn’t rape you. My son wouldn’t do that.” She deflates at the end and starts crying.

Holmes comes in, “Katniss you shouldn’t be in here. Peeta is asking for you.”

Coin chuckles at me, through her tears.

“You know, they were heavily into drugs. And Jo says that’s why she broke up with Cori and didn’t even tell him about the baby at first. Not that it excuses their behavior. But maybe they were good kids, once. But can’t you see that he has changed, and isn’t a good person anymore?” I ask to Coin angered by her disregard.

“Oh, shut up you bitch! You don’t know what it’s like to have a child and raise them. For them to, turn on you. Act like you’re the enemy. He went to go live with his father and stopped calling and coming to visit. But he’s still my son. He just needed help and now he could be dead somewhere!” She screams at me.

“Yes or he could be planning to kill someone! He’s not stable. Kidnapping a helpless little girl, and threatening the mother of his child? Come on Alma, he needs to be in custody. Tell us where he is. Please before it’s too late.” Holmes says to Coin.

Coin starts cursing and yelling, “Wait and see! Just wait and see! You bitch!” While pulling her arms up and failing around. Holmes takes me out of there and nurses rush in to sedate Coin.

“Katniss, what were you thinking going in there?” Holmes asks me as we walk to Peeta’s room.

“I don’t know. I just thought she had a human side and would be remorseful for everything. Mitchell’s dead because she shot him. And Jackson… According to Haymitch, she used to be a good cop. I wanted to believe there was good left in her, because maybe then, there could be good somewhere in Snow. He is out there and he could try to hurt my loved ones. I don’t want to feel like a victim to him anymore.” I admit.

“Then don’t. He doesn’t control that and he will get caught eventually. My guess is he got as far away from here as he could, to hide with his tail between his legs. And if he ever comes back we will be prepared. You can be too. Take some self-defense classes. Keep going to see that Dr. Aurelius. And keep your eyes open. You have really good instincts and you’re a smart girl. Don’t doubt that. Have faith in yourself.” Holmes tells me.

“Thanks. Do you think Jackson’s gonna pull through?” I ask.

“I think so. He’s a fighter, you know.” She says.

“Hey.” Peeta says as I walk into his room.

“Hey. How you feelin’?” I ask scared he hates me.

“Oh, you know. I feel shot in the leg.” He says and manages a small smile.

He’s okay. Don’t cry.

“I’m so sorry you were in that situation. But I shudder to think what could’ve happened to Rue, if you hadn’t been there.” I say trying to swallow the lump in my throat.

“She might’ve gotten away if not for me.” He says.

“What do you mean? She told us you saved her. More than once.” I dispute

“Well, I couldn’t let him hurt her. But before that, I got out my old middle school yearbook, to try and find the guy that got teased in school. I asked Ry to barrow his car. Even though you weren’t talking to me, I thought you’d want to see it. I was on my way to your house, when I saw Rue running through the park.” Peeta tells me.

“Oh My God! That’s how he took her without anyone seeing.” I gasp.

“Yeah, she saw me, ran to the car, started trying to explain that she thought someone was following her. Then he popped out from behind a tree with a gun. He grabbed her and said he’d shoot her if I didn’t do what he said. He made me get in the trunk. My phone was in the front of the car so I couldn’t call anyone. She later told me he took off his hoodie, put it on her, and pulled the hoodie over her face. He put her in the passenger seat and held the gun to her while he drove, telling her he’d shoot her if she tried anything funny. I think she started typing a text message while in the car with him, but she got scared and stopped. He drove us to the house you found us at, and I prepared to try and wrestle him when he opened the trunk. But he had Rue do it and held the gun to her head. I was scared he was gonna kill her just to get back at me for beating up Cato and testifying against him. I had no idea at first that he was C.J’s dad.” Peeta relays his story.

“How did she send the text then?” I ask.

“Once he got us inside. He had me duck tape Rue’s mouth and hands in front of her and then hit me on the head. I woke up in the basement and Rue was tied to a chair and my hands were tied behind my back. She couldn’t see that well because it was dark and she couldn’t look down because of how she was bound. But I’m guessing she typed the part about how she loved her family in the car. I could talk, but I threw up once and I was dizzy. The doctors are saying I had a concussion from Snow hitting me on my head. But I talked to Rue and I told her that the guy who took us was Snow he just cut and dyed his hair. She had hid the phone in her bra and wiggled until it fell down her shirt and she tried to text info to Vic. So he could get help and you could connect Snow as Cory. But we heard movement and she started to panic and pushed send before he came down. Then I turned around and grabbed it from her. We’re so dumb we should’ve called 911. I hid the phone behind me on the floor. He came in yelling about what a mess we made of everything and he called Jo some bad names. When he left I grabbed to phone and tried to give it back to Rue but she started crying cause the phone had died.” Peeta says.

“Peeta I’m so sorry. If I would’ve been in touch with you, we could’ve met somewhere. Maybe you wouldn’t have been on the way to my house. Maybe Rue would’ve made it home before he grabbed her and nobody would be dead and hurt right now.” I start crying.

“Yeah, but we probably wouldn’t have Coin, or Snow on the run. If I showed you the yearbook and we went to the police Coin would’ve made sure no one found out. She may have just killed us both and covered it up. And according to the police, I think his ultimate goal was to take C.J from Jo. I know Rue is happier her nephew was safe even if that meant her being taken in his place. Katniss, I will heal. Jackson and Mitchell are courageous police officers who know every time they put on the uniform, their lives are at risk. They wouldn’t want you blaming yourself. Trust me.” Peeta says.

I run over to him and wrap my arms around him in a hug. He hugs me back.

“Katniss. Don’t cry. It’s okay. Pleas-”

I stop his mouth with my lips. My impulse to do something I’ve wanted to do for so long taking over. Peeta’s lips are soft and warm against mine.

He seems taken off guard at first. But he quickly takes ahold of my face and the upper hand. What starts as a gentle, sweet, kiss, becomes more passionate and frantic.

He lightly licks my top lip. I open up willingly letting him invade my mouth, and tangle our tongues, coaxing a delicate moan out of me.

I’ve never been kissed like this.

I feel high and ignited. My hands clutch the fabric at his chest and the hair at the nape of his neck. He runs and hand down from my shoulder, to my back. Caressing my side. Then sliding onto my hip. Peeta’s fingers dip slightly into the top of my jeans, sending chills through my whole body.

I feel tension in my belly and then a bump! I jerk away from Peeta unlatching our lips. His face is flushed and shocked.

Oh! What was that?

“Katniss. I’m sorry. Are you ok? I’m sorry I should… I shouldn’t have kissed you.” He fumbles.

Shouldn’t have? Why?

“I kissed you. But umm… my stomach hurts. I gotta go, Peeta.” I say rushing out.

I find my mom. I explain the weird feeling I felt.

What’s happening?

“Katniss, you just felt your baby move!” Mom tells me quietly, so no one else can here.

“Oh! Okay, so nothing’s wrong with me?” I say relieved.

“No. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately. Why, what were you doing? When you felt it?”

Kissing Peeta Mellark.

“Um. Just hanging out with Peeta. He is doing better by the way.” I half-lie.

“Okay. Good. So you’re alright then?” She asks.

Am I?

Was what I was doing wrong?

Is that why the baby chose that moment to scare the crap out of me?

“Uh huh.” I say.

“Okay, love you. Why don’t we get you home?” She says.

At home, I get on the computer and look at the school I was accepted to. It has a lot of grants and student loan options. If I live on campus and get a job, will I have time for a baby?

I click on a link for a scholarship program and somehow get to a scholarship application.

May as well apply right?

I start filling it out and then I get a text.

Peeta- I just want to make sure you’re ok. Please text me back.

Katniss- Yes. I’m fine. I just needed to get out of there. I’m home now. Sorry, I kissed you. I’m not sure where that came from.

Peeta- Maybe it came from your feelings for me?

Katniss- Peeta, I shouldn’t have feelings for you because I’m going away to school. You’re going away to school and we are great as friends. If we complicate that it could be bad. I just don’t think we’re ready.

Peeta- You mean you’re not ready. I could be ready. I wanted to ask you out remember?

Katniss- Yes, but Peeta, then life happened. We are, broken and carry battle scars. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. You might not feel the same way about me forever.

Peeta- Why won’t you let me decide what I feel for you and how long I want to feel it? I’ve felt it for years.

Katniss- You’ve felt what for years?

Peeta- Katniss can I see you?

Katniss- Your in the hospital? I just saw you.

Peeta- No, when I’m out. I’ll come by after I’m released.

Katniss- Okay but Peeta. Just focus on getting better.

Peeta- Thank you.

Katniss- You’re Welcome.

Peeta- Goodnight Katniss.

After texting Peeta, I go back to the computer. I get to the section of the application where you must write an essay. I stay up all night writing it. In the morning, I’m exhausted.

My phone rings. Haymitch tells me that Jackson woke up and he’s doing much better. But that Coin committed suicide last night.

What else could happen?

“Sweetheart, that’s not all. We think Cori snuck into the hospital last night.” Haymitch says.

Peeta!

“Your boys okay. It’s just that if he went there to see his mom. Then he knows she died and Boggs is worried he’ll want revenge so he wants to put you and your sister and your mom into Witness Protection. And frankly, I agree.” Haymitch says.

“But. But Haymitch?”

“We would be putting Rooba, Jo, C.J and Rue in also. But Thom refuses. Says he’s going out of state for college anyway and can’t disappear without Delly. The Hawthorne crew hasn’t had any threats so we can’t move them either.” Haymitch tells me.

This is crazy!

“What about? I was planning to go to school also.” I say still in shock.

“Yeah, well we could talk to the board of admissions and tell them your situation. They can recommend you to a similar school in another state and the government will be moving you and… and changing your names. But they’ll be finding your mom a good job. So I think you will find you end up in a higher tax bracket from now on. I’m sorry about the boy.” Haymitch says.

“Peeta isn’t my boyfriend. I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you. I’m pregnant. I don’t want to hold back his future so…” I say tears welling up in my eyes.

“Wait is it-”

“It’s my baby, Haymitch. And I expect you to keep attorney, client confidentiality about that information. When do we have to leave?” I ask as stoically as I can.

“Two days.”

The events over the last four months have been life changing. Haymitch will be able to contact us and he’s assured us as soon as Coriolanus “Snow” Thread is caught we can return. But my faith that will happen is shaken.

Our last meal at Hazelle’s is rough. Rue and Prim are equally happy they get to stay together as they are devastated to be leaving Vic and Rory.

Gale invites Madge and Thom invites Delly. I saw Finnick and Annie before they left for the airport yesterday. BeeTee and Wiress both got early admissions and left before the kidnapping but have been sending their love through email and are sad we won’t be able to email anymore.

We try to remember the good times we’ve had around this huge kitchen table. We laugh. We cry. Everyone is putting on a brave face since half of this makeshift family is leaving in the morning.

Peeta is still in the hospital. Peeta has texted me goodnight, every night since we started helping each other get through the nights. Even when I wasn’t talking to him, he texted it. Tonight, for the last time on this phone, I text back.

Katniss- Goodnight Peeta.

“Peeta, why do you want to make this harder than it has to be? Stop putting yourself in danger for me.”

“Kat you were gonna leave without telling me. If I hadn’t over heard Holmes talking to Messalla, I still wouldn’t know. Of course I snuck out.”

He knocked on my window at midnight and I let him in. He looks so hurt that I could leave him.

“It’s raining, there’s a psychopath on the loose and you have a a metal pin and stitches in your leg.” I whisper so I don’t wake the whole house.

He carefully takes my hands in his. They’re surprisingly warm considering he just came in out of the cold. I hope he doesn’t have a fever.

“Tell me you don’t care about me?”

“Peeta what?” I shake my head and turn around.

“Can you say you don’t?”

“Peeta, we aren’t discussing this now. I’m leaving in the mornin’-“

“I love you, Katniss. I love you.”

I spin back around and he’s has unshed tears in his eyes.

“I’ve tried not to tell you. Because all the books say it’s too soon after this kind of tragedy to put this kind of pressure on you. I don’t want anything from you. You don’t owe me anything. But I have to tell you before you go. I know you care about me too.”

I close the small distance between us and kiss him like I did in the hospital. I think about what he’s just told me, and everything I know. Not only does he love me, it seems he has had feelings for me for a while because he remembers me singing in kindergarten. He wanted to ask me to Prom and he was sweet enough to stand by because someone beat him to it. He took pictures with me and let our friends tease him about being alone. He was no doubt angry I was being dumb and could’ve tried to steal me from the date, but he’s always thinking of others. He knew I needed help and he blamed himself for what happened. But he was my rock through all of the aftermath. Keeping me safe. Helping me feel safe. Always being cautious of my fear and never making me fear him. He read about how to deal with survivors. He himself is quite a survivor and he stayed away when I pushed him away. All the while selflessly putting his wishes on the back burner, for me.

“Peeta, I love you too. I have to go tomorrow. But I… I want you to stay with me, tonight.”

“Always.”

“I don’t know if you can forgive me for being so stupid and oblivious but I-“

“I already told you. You never need to apologize to me, love.” He says hugging me tight.

I sit on my bed and pull him down with me. He’s got an arm around me and draws little soothing shapes on my shoulders.

“Will I be able to contact you? I guess not, huh? Well, can I write to you? Maybe under a false name, or through Haymitch?”

I shake my hand no. The tears fall down both our faces as the gravity of the situation hits us.

“Kat, say something. Please.”

“Will you? Would you…” I cover me face with my hands. “I’m not good at saying something.”

“What do you need?” He asks and in that moment, I know he’d give me the moon if he could.

“I need you.” I tell him honestly.

“You have me. Okay? You don’t need to worry-“

“I need you, Peeta.” I emphasize the need that I feel growing with the revelation of my feelings.

“Oh. OH… you mean? But you… we… Katniss? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

It’s not crazy rush passion or exactly how he might’ve imagined it.

We slowly explore each other’s bodies and get to know what feels amazing. I don’t expect much so it’s even more meaningful when he makes me climax with just his hands and then him mouth.

“You’re so beautiful and strong. Don’t ever let anyone tell your you’re not.” He whispers in the ear he just nibbled.

“I have to tell you something.”

“You’re pregnant aren’t you?” He guesses.

“How? When did you know?”

He gently rubs my belly as he rolls me on my side and lines up our bodies so he can enter me for a second time tonight.

“I was always aware of the possibility. But the morning sickness, the way you craved cheese buns, and when you fainted. I was pretty sure. I thought that’s why you pushed me away, but Katniss?”

He pushes in and I gasp at how good it feels.

“I love you, so much. How could I not love the baby?” He clarifies.

“Peeta, I love you.”

We finish together in a handful of moans and sighs.

I wake to a knock on my door.

I don’t feel him in the bed. In fact I’m in the clothes I wore yesterday.

It was just a dream?

“Haymitch called, sis. We can go back.” Prim says tears in her eyes.

I’m so shocked I almost miss the whirlwind of little legs.

“Mama wake-ity up. Come on, cereal s’ready.”

#springtime edition 2018 #jrheartbreaker #ra3lynn3 #Prompt 36 #submission

[speakfriendaandenter]

Hey Arnold!, and why it’s still important today

Less than a year ago my fiancee and I took to rewatching Hey Arnold! for the first time in YEARS to prep for The Jungle Movie. Having been obsessed with it when I was a kid, I knew the show like the back of my hand, so I went through and made a “best of” list of episodes, and we watched those.

Aaaand immediately went back to the beginning and watched ALL of them.

AAAAND went back AGAIN because revisiting this show has been so fun for me, and it just puts me in a good, good place. Since this (eternal) marathon began, I’ve wanted to do a big ol’ overview of the show itself, and why it’s important. It’s very diverse, and from a time when that really wasn’t what kids’ shows were striving for like they are today. There are tons of characters of color, different religions, sexualities, social classes, etc, and I kind of need this show to get the love and attention it so deserves. It’s really kinda gone unloved for a long while now (which is understandable, it’s been off the air since 2002), and I just know it’d be a huge deal if more people knew/remembered how inclusive it was. I’m kicking myself for not writing this sooner, but I’m holding out hope for Nick to greenlight a new series, and my dearest wish is that I can remind people of this wonderful, thoughtful show, and get it the attention it deserves.

Hey Arnold! is FULL of amazing characters and stories, so BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUP, THIS GON’ BE A LONG ONE.

| City life, poverty, & crime |

At it’s core, Hey Arnold! is a show about inner city kids, their school, and how they go about their daily lives. I did some research for this (believe it or not lmao), and besides Sesame Street, there is no other media geared toward kids that touch on this. That’s insane to me. And while Sesame Street is fantastic, it tends to steer on the positive side of city life. Which is great!! However, Hey Arnold!, being written for an older audience, isn’t afraid to show the not-so-pretty side of things as well. Violence, crime, theft, pollution, and poverty are ALL covered in more than just a few episodes. We saw a lot of this right off the bat in the first episode, “Downtown as Fruits”.

As for violence, in the episode “Mugged”, Arnold is jumped on his way home one evening, and takes self defense lessons from his Grandma.

And it’s not the last time Arnold, or other characters are mugged. It’s just something they deal with, something they have to learn to protect themselves from. And sometimes, they can’t.

They don’t shy away from poverty within the city, either. Multiple characters are shown to be very poor, and with the exception of two episodes in the whole series (Lila in her debut episode, “Ms. Perfect”, and Sid when he wants to impress a rich classmate and is too embarrassed to have him over at his own home, “Arnold’s Room”), it’s never really shown as a bad thing, or even as a defining character trait. It just is.

Even our title character lives in a boarding house run by his grandparents, inhabited by tenants of very little means. The building itself is always needing repairs, the tenants almost never have their rent on time, and they really don’t shy away from how dingy some of the rooms are there (pictured above, bottom left).

But again, all of this just is. It’s never portrayed as a bad thing, and none of the kids care much about it. Of course there’s Rhonda, the snooty, rich girl stereotype, but even she has a handful of episodes where she grows as a character and is repeatedly called out for having a classist attitude. In the end, all of these kids care about each other and never give a second’s thought to each others’ social class.

| Diversity & inclusiveness |

I’m putting the rest under a read more cut so no one murders me for clogging up their dashboards :’)

One of the most wonderful things about this show is how diverse the cast of characters is. Especially being that in the 90′s, it wasn’t something shows were expected to have, but they did it here anyway.

Our primary character of color is, of course, Gerald Johanssen, Arnold’s best friend and all-around cool dude. He’s the star of a good amount of episodes, and even when one focuses on Arnold, he’s almost always right there next to him. With Gerald comes his family as well, consisting of a little sister, older brother, his mom who cashiers at a corner store, and his father who’s a businessman and Vietnam veteran, ALL OF WHOM have distinct personalities and stories, and the lot of them are portrayed just like any other family on tv.

Next would be Phoebe Heyerdahl, the soft-spoken smartest girl in class, and Helga’s best friend. She’s half Japanese on her father’s side, and if you pay attention, her and Gerald have a thing going on, which is sO freaking cute.

Phoebe is also super important because she’s the only person in the show who really knows and understands Helga. She’s always there to support her, listen to her, and guide her when she can. However, Phoebe does have a handful of episodes to herself, and we even touch on how being the over-achiever in class isn’t always a good thing, and can be damaging to children if they feel like they need to be the best. It’s a super important lesson for kids to learn.

If I gave a paragraph to EVERY single character of color in this show we’d literally be here all day, so I’m gonna finish off with my personal favorite, Mr. Hyunh. A middle-aged Vietnamese man who resides in Arnold’s boarding house, Mr. Hyunh is one of the best adult characters in the show. In fact, one of the. single. best. episodes of the entire show, “Arnold’s Christmas” revolves entirely around him, and how he was separated from his only daughter during the Vietnam War. Holy shit, right? I could go on and on about that episode on its own (there’s a reason why it’s one of the most well known episodes), but I’ll put a cap on it there. Mr. Hyunh has the starring role in a number of other episodes, and he’s always great. He’s funny, cares deeply about Arnold and the other boarders, and is genuinely happy where he is.

But do we stop at diversity where race is concerned? NOPE. This is a show for literally everyone. Gosh, it’s hard just to even figure out where to start.

How about Harold? He’s not only Jewish, but there’s an entire episode it,  (”Harold’s Bar Mitzvah”), and he’s shown to be very close with his mentor, Rabbi Goldberg.

We have three characters with dwarfism. Ernie Potts, a boarder at the Sunset Arms, and Big Patty’s mother and father. How freaking cool, right? Patty’s parents are scarce in the show, unfortunately, but are extremely caring and supportive of their daughter. And yet again, it’s never brought up, it’s not a defining trait, it’s not a big deal. They’re just regular people.

As far as LGBTQ representation, a little while after the show was cancelled, show creator Craig Bartlett revealed that the kids’ school teacher, Mr. Simmons, is gay. In “Arnold’s Thanksgiving”, we see his partner, Peter, and we see the two of them together in “The Jungle Movie” as well. And, though not explicitly shown onscreen, Craig has said that Eugene Horowitz, an overly optimistic classmate of Arnold’s, is gay as well.

| Helga Pataki, abusive households & mental health |

You may have noticed that I’ve gone this entire thing without breaking down sobbing about Helga. Ohh, don’t you worry, we’re almost there!

I could be wrong, but I think one of the most well remembered aspects of this show, even by people who haven’t seen it in years, is that Helga’s family is really messed up. Her mother, Miriam, is always passed out drunk on the kitchen counter or behind the sofa, and her father, Big Bob, is always calling her by the wrong name and forgets she even exists most of the time. Then of course there’s Olga, her “perfect” older sister who means well, and cares about Helga more than their parents do, but ultimately cares more about her self image.

Sure, each of them get a few episodes where they get called out on their behavior and they (kinda) redeem themselves, but at the end of the day, they’re always right back at it. If I had a talent for it, I could SERIOUSLY write an entire thesis on Helga’s family’s dynamic in this show, but I’m going to (try to) keep it brief.

The Pataki household is a very real, very poignant depiction of emotional and mental abuse that we just do not see in cartoons, or anything geared towards a younger audience. Like I said, we have the odd episode or two where Helga will bond with one or both of her parents or her sister, but things never truly “get better”. Given the significant age gap between her and Olga (who’s in college while Helga is in the 4th grade), it’s suggested that Helga was probably an accident, and the catalyst of her parents’ unhappiness. In “Magic Show”, Helga goes through an “It’s A Wonderful Life”-type dream sequence, but backwards. Arnold makes her disappear forever in a magic trick, and the entire world is better off without her, including her parents, who are happy, fulfilled, and affectionate with each other. IT’S REALLY MESSED UP, GUYS.

And this, ALL of this, is one of two reasons why her crush on Arnold works. In a lesser show, Helga’s obsession with Arnold would be creepy, and her dependence on him would be a weakness to her character. However, we eventually find out that where her family failed her at every turn, Arnold was the first one to not only notice her, but show her kindness.

And in the end, no matter how much she teases him and bugs the shit out of him (which are just defense mechanisms to begin with), she always, always puts him first. Every single chance she gets, she does the right thing for him.  Helga’s feelings for Arnold work so well because she truly cares for him. Of course her closet shrine and dozens of books of poetry are over the top, but so is Helga. She’s loud, abrasive, crude, but above all else, she’s fiercely loyal, passionate, and intelligent. And, more than anything, she just wants Arnold to be happy. That’s real love, folks.

My personal favorite episode of the entire show is “Helga On the Couch”, where Helga goes to see a psychologist due to her abrasive behavior. This episode is so so so important, you guys. It was really the first piece of media I saw as a kid that not only explained what therapy even was, but painted it in an extremely positive light. At first, Helga is mortified to have to go, and her parents don’t help the situation at all. Not only do they disapprove, but Big Bob is angry with her for being selected for therapy. He says that it’s embarrassing, and actually warns Helga not to tell the psychologist anything that might out them as abusive.

However, Phoebe assures Helga that therapy is not only good, but perfectly normal, even for kids their age.

And throughout the session, Helga opens up about her family, why she’s so defensive, how she feels about Arnold and why, and feels so much better at the end of the episode. I hate that the show had to end after this season because I would die for more episodes about Helga and her sessions with Dr. Bliss.

Not to mention we get one of the best bits of dialogue in the entire series omfg:

Again, this is SUPER IMPORTANT for kids to see. This episode told us that mental health is JUST as crucial as physical health, and took every bad opinion about therapy and stuck a boot in its ass. It’s GOOD, it’s NORMAL. I can’t say enough about how much this episode meant to me as a kid, and still means to me today.

I seriously have to stop myself from going on for 500 years about Helga and why she’s not only the best character on the show by a fuckin’ landslide, but one of the THE best female characters in anything. Ever. I think I’m going to put a pin in that, and hopefully get to writing a post just about her. The point is, she is an exceptionally written character, and super important for kids to see, to be able to relate to. She’s heavily flawed, but is infinitely loyal for those she cares about. She’s extremely complex, hilarious, interesting, and deeply sympathetic. I LOVE HELGA PATAKI SO MUCH DON’T TOUCH ME, GOD. 

| Criticisms & wrap-up |

I’m gonna try and end this here before it turns into a novel, but there is still SO MUCH going on in this show that I could talk about. If anyone wants to add to this post, please do!! I honestly just need to end this sometime lmaoo.

Now, the show isn’t perfect. Rewatching it in our current social climate turned up a (notedly small) few problematic things. Mostly fat jokes about Harold, and some of the boys will tease the girls, saying they can’t do certain things bc they’re girls, etc. Normally these are small, throwaway lines, but they’re still there, and stand out nowadays. Just a warning! 

The only other criticism I have for the show as a whole is actually the entire plot line with Arnold’s parents, “The Journal”, and most of “The Jungle Movie”. Now, don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy it, I think there’s enough heart and depth to make up for, well, how fuckin’ silly it is, but it’s still just that. Silly. This show that spent five full seasons in an urban setting, dealing with very real characters and situations, suddenly veered off into heavy fantasy. It’s jarring, and a little weird. We find out not only that Arnold’s parents were basically Indiana Jones and Lara Croft, but also Arnold was a miracle baby whos birth silenced an erupting volcano, and now he’s seen as some “chosen one” to entire tribe of people living in the jungles of South America.

LMAO WHAT.

No, it’s kind of insane. I think I personally don’t mind it so much because I have a lasting fondness for it from when I was a kid, and like I said, it does have a lot of heart behind it, but it’s very apparent as an adult how ridiculous it is. However, in the show’s defense, its always had episodes about ghosts and all matter of supernatural creatures that just exist and are real in this universe, so it’s not totally out of left field. It’s just odd to have it at the forefront, and I can understand if people don’t care for it.

BUT! The show, at its heart, has always been about kids, their families, and the city they live in. I know if the show was brought back, that’s what they’d get back to.

Also, it’s kind of hilarious if you think about it this way; Arnold is BASICALLY a magical girl who’s super power is solving everyone else’s problems. That’s the show.

And holy cow, speaking of Arnold, I haven’t talked about him at all. SHIT. UH, real quick. Arnold is a good, good, good, gOOD, GOOD BOY. To be extremely honest, Arnold would be boring as hell in a lesser show. He really doesn’t have many flaws, he’s always doing The Right Thing(TM), he’s always optimistic... you get it. But somehow, miraculously, he’s still interesting and fun to watch. He’s just so goddamn good. Like, cinnamon roll levels of good. And he does fuck up once in a great while, but of course, learns from it. He’s definitely your standard male, pre-teen, main character in a world where we have way too many of those, but he’s just so pure that you can’t help but love him.

He honestly works best as a counterpart to Helga, which we tragically get so little of in the show (and why we need a new series dear god Nickelodeon PLEASE), but that’s a whoooole other post for me to write. 

Goddamn okay, I’m wrapping it up. If you haven’t noticed by now, this show means a lot to me. It really touched me as a kid, it was my first fandom before I even knew what fandom was, and revisiting it has been so fun. It’s honestly been helping me get through an extremely rough patch in my life right now. The show more holds up after all these years, and I think it’s even more important now than it ever was. We need more shows like this. 

If you’re interested, the entire series is on Hulu! 

#hey arnold #nickelodeon #diversity #mental health #long post #DEAR GOD THIS TOOK TWO DAYS TO PUT TOGETHER #pls read i am begging :') #also I have zero writing talent so this is just me babbling #it's not meant to be like an actual essay or anything #just me shouting with visual references #LONG POST DID I MENTION

[etherealvibespls]

Cafe Strangers

A small VanOhm fic in which Ohm can’t stop embarrassing himself but Evan isn’t too far behind. Or, Ohm has headphones on and doesn’t realize he’s singing out loud.  

Requested by: Anonymous 

Also in case you don’t know, this is the song Ohm is jamming out to. [x]

Hope you all enjoy! :) 

Ryan’s not sure how long he’s been staring at his laptop, or rather, the blank open word document; the constant flashing of the evil black line has hypnotized him in a sort of trance, and all he’s able to do is narrow his eyes at it, wishing it could magically help him come up with motivation to write the essay that’s due by the next day.

Nothing happens. His brain is a blank mess, the History textbook that sits on the table is still opened on the first page, unread, and to make matters worse, his coffee is now cold. He groans, sagging his head, accepting defeat and the horrible truth that he’s not cut out for college; his procrastination is really starting to become a problem, but the thought of actually doing an assignment on time makes him shiver from the absurdity.

Maybe, his mind helpfully adds, he could drop out and become a street performer. Although, he’s not talented enough to do that, and so he goes back to groaning, mashing his head against the keyboard in the hopes that something will happen.

His lack of writing might be related to the fact that the playlist he’s currently listening to is loud, and the pop songs that play in his ears block out any sort of coherent thought, but he keeps telling himself it’s because they make him want to dance and sing, and so by default he’ll get enough energy to end up writing at least a sentence or two, right?

It’s proven to be a lie, because the songs that have been playing just weren’t the right ones, nothing more than a catchy tune that makes him sing along, or mouth along, in his case. The people in the coffee shop all look at peace in their own little world, and Ryan doesn’t want to be that one guy who ruins it by singing out loud.

With a defeated sigh, he goes to close his laptop, deciding he’s just going to take a zero, and maybe on the way home he’ll stop to get ice cream, to eat his failure away, or maybe even text Anthony so they can binge watch Criminal Minds and be distracted by laughs and incredible hugs.

He was going to do that, but before he can even pick his head up, the all too familiar sound of Everytime We Touch is suddenly blessing his ears, and then the missing energy he couldn’t find is there and he quickly sits up, already having new found motivation because this is his song, and how can he not be anything other than ecstatic when Cascada is singing to him?

There’s no time to worry about how he still hasn’t read the textbook, or the giggling teenagers in the back who won’t stop staring at him as he bops his head, because he’s finally writing, although mostly rambles, but it’s something, in the very least, and that’s all he could’ve asked for.

It lasts for a while, the new routine of hitting replay every time the song sounds like it’s going to end, and soon he nearly has one page written; he can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, as he falls back against his chair, admiring the words that stare back at him.

He looks away when there’s movement in the corner of his eye, and sees an older woman turn in her chair, frowning at him, and what the fuck is her problem? He’s still a little cranky, and the stares he’s getting from multiple people only further fuel that, but before he can ask what they’re all looking at, someone is suddenly there, in front of him, and he looks up, mind instantly going blank once more because holy shit the guy that’s staring at him with these amused eyes is gorgeous.

“Uh, can I help you?” He’s not the greatest at talking to guys, especially when they look like Aphrodite's son, with biceps that hold all his attention, made more prominent by the tight black shirt he’s wearing.

The man only smiles in this small secretive way, as he pushes up at the also black cap on his head that falls slightly, and Ryan can feel himself let out a shaky breath as he sees the veins pop out against his hand at just the miniscule movement, and he can’t help but imagine how those very same hands would look...somewhere else?

He’s starting to think he was secretly transported into another dimension, because why else would everyone be staring at him, and this godly specimen look as if he himself were trying to hold back a laugh.

Was something on his face? Against his will, he prepares for being made fun of, for something he still hasn’t grasped.

“I hate to interrupt you, and the intense staring contest you’re having with your laptop, but, I figured I should tell you, because no one else seems to want to, that you’ve been singing out loud for the past thirty minutes.”

“Oh,” He breathes, not expecting that, but at the still smiling eyes, his brain finally processes what was just said, and then suddenly the giggling teenagers and angry woman all make sense, and so a few seconds later, he not so gracefully adds, “Fuck.”

Any embarrassment he’s feeling is multiplied by ten, because the realization that this breathtaking man heard him makes him wish for some higher being to teleport his ass out of this terrible situation, and that in itself outweighs everything else.

“If it helps,” The guy shrugs, offering a crooked smile that makes Ryan’s heart sure feel as if it were ready to beat out of his chest, “You weren’t bad, although I wouldn’t recommend trying out for any singing shows anytime soon.”

He buries his head in his hands, beyond the point of wanting this whole nightmare to end, “Fuck off.”

And then because he remembers he actually just met this guy, and he doesn’t know that Ryan can be a bit snarky, he pops his head up, quickly backtracking, “I didn’t mean it in an asshole sense, I was just joking, I don’t really want you to fuck off. Well, unless you do, in which case nevermind, I was just-” He sighs, giving an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, I’m horrible at talking to people.”

The breathy laugh he gets in return almost makes him forget he’s the physical embodiment of embarrassment, almost, because it’s hard when he’s constantly being reminded.

“It’s okay, I happen to be terrible at having normal conversations too.” He finally sits down on the seat across from his, not caring about the mess of Ryan’s things that litter the table, and Ryan himself doesn’t really pay attention to that, because he’s too busy focusing on his reply, which sounded a lot like something he’d say.

“Are you...being sarcastic?”

He’s a little in awe, as the guy takes a sip of his coffee, smile still prominent behind the glass cup, “Always.”

Ryan fakes being hurt, as he flings a hand to his chest, and gives a scandalous look, “How could you? I just embarrassed myself to the highest degree possible, and you give me sarcasm? What a jerk.”

“You did fuck up pretty bad, but,” He says pointedly, raising his eyebrows, “Have you fallen and face planted in front of hundreds of people?”

His mind immediately flashes back to that one day at the beach, where his shoe got stuck in the sand and the fall was instant; the laughs from both Anthony and Craig still ring in his ears, “Not hundreds, but definitely enough to leave a painful memory. Why, you got something better?”

The guy shakes his head, huffing, “Way better. Senior year, graduation day, everyone’s having a good time, families are cheering for those they know graduating, when finally my name is called, Evan, and I walk up all confident, holding back tears myself, but for some reason my feet decide to trip over nothing and I fall, hit my face, and boom, the whole stadium gets silent, except for a few laughs from classmates.”

He snorts, hiding his smile, ignoring the fact that the other slipped their name in there, “You’re bullshitting. There’s no way that actually happened outside of some cheesy movie.”

Evan’s smile is wide, as he playfully kicks at Ryan under the table, “I swear! My mom videotaped the whole thing, it’s become a family tradition to watch it every Christmas.”

This whole thing feels a bit ridiculous, but Ryan can’t deny his enjoyment, and the smile that has yet to leave his face because he knows the other is feeling the same.  

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the textbook he’ll most likely never read, and leans his head against his head, thoroughly captivated by this stranger who seemed to appear at the perfect time, “You know, you really are a jerk.”

Evan gets this tiny smirk, as he tilts his head slightly, eyes never leaving Ryan’s, “And why is that?”

“I just embarrassed myself so much that I’m sure people are going to go home and tell their family members about me, but instead of getting comforted, you come over here, poke at my inability to speak properly to people, and then you one up me with a better and more embarrassing story. See? A jerk.”

All of this still doesn’t feel quite real, and his mind keeps screaming at him that things like this just don’t happen randomly, but when Evan has to squeeze his eyes shut from the laugh that overtakes him, he also admits that maybe encounters only thought to happen in movies or books, came from a real life experience.

“I’m sorry,” Evan says, the laugh on his lips still airy and heavenly, “I actually came over to tell you about the singing, but also because I happen to always see you here, and I thought this would be the time that I finally talked to you. But it turns out I’m terrible when it comes to talking to cute guys, so feel free to make fun of me all you want. Swear I won’t outdo you again.”

He’s probably a little too endeared, but that doesn’t stop his heart from faltering at the small confession.

“How about instead I also say that one of the reason’s this is my favorite place to study is because I happen to like staring at you too.” Too late he realizes what he’s said, and he groans, facepalming, “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. I swear I’m not creepy, I was just-nevermind, forget I said anything.”

Evan looks in disbelief, as he laughs, “Holy shit, you don’t even have to try to outdo me, it just comes naturally.”

He flicks him off, grinning when Evan just raises his hands in surrender, “I get it, I’m the worst, but that doesn’t mean you beat a guy when he’s already down. Your jerk side is starting to take over, huh?”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, but how about I make it up to you?”

He hums, crossing his arms, “I’m listening.”

“This Friday night, they’ll be a fair opening up downtown. What do you say we go and see who ends up tripping over their feet first?”

“I’d say that sounds like the best idea I’ve ever heard.” He’s a little breathless, because it’s not often that cute guys ask him out, or even seem interested, at that.

“Also,” He continues on, “I’m just now realizing that you don’t know my name because of my horrible people skills, but it’s Ryan.”

“I already knew your name.”

At the confused stare from him, Evan smiles, and points at the cup of cold coffee that was meant to be to go, before Ryan had chosen to stay, possibly due to a certain someone walking in.

“It’s written on your cup. Although I should tell you, even though I know you’re name, I’m still referring to you as Singing Guy, oh, even better, Embarrassing Guy!”

“You’re the worst.”

“Hm, that is a fitting title.”

Ryan laughs, in awe at how comfortable they are with each other, and the easygoing banter he’s loving more and more, “You’re lucky you’re cute, or this date would’ve been off.”

Evan’s smile is small but captivating, and Ryan can’t help but feel a bit lightheaded, as his foot gets nudged under the table, and as Evan stares at him in a way that closely resembles tenderness.

“I’ll be sure to thank my lucky stars tonight then.”

And because they’re both terrible, Evan adds, “Speaking of stars, have I mentioned that I once threw up in front of a celebrity? Because I have, the one time I visited Los Angeles and was sick from the plane ride.”

Ryan grins, leaning forward, “But have you thrown up on one?”

“No way,” Evan breathes, “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I did. Fourth grade, on a fieldtrip.”

Evan laughs, shaking his head, “That doesn’t count! You were too young.”

“What do you mean? I still remember it clearly!”

They’re probably not supposed to be telling horrible stories, for people who have just met, but Ryan can’t deny that it’s the best way he’s gotten to know someone, especially given how Evan seems comfortable enough to rest his leg against Ryan’s own, or the way he stares at him admiringly, and so though it’s not ideal for most, Ryan wouldn’t have it any other way.

#vanohm #i'm sorry if this was terrible #this was my first time writing for this pairing #hopefully i did it somewhat good #also i'm uploading this a day earlier because tomorrow will mostl likely be a busy day #anyways i hope you all liked it #!!! #writings

[suddensouthparkaddiction]

REVENGE: Prologue

South Park Fanfiction: everyone is aged-up. The boys all being 23/24 years old, with the younger generation being 17/18 with the exception of Ike who would be about 16. There is CraigXTweek mentions, KennyXButters mentions, KyleXStan mentions, under aged sex mentions, Crazy Cartman, hints of stalking and creeping, and also kidnapping. LOTS OF CUSS WORDS. I don’t know how many chapters, but this is the prologue. I might post more depending on the reception. 

Karen McCormick was six months pregnant. She would be the perfect object to use in Cartman’s twisted, devious plan he’d dubbed, “Project Jew”.

Karen had accidentally gotten pregnant by Ike Broflovski. She apparently didn’t want to graduate from high school as a virgin and Ike needed to know whether or not he was gay. Win, win, right? The only problem was that neither teen was expecting the Canadian to be extremely potent, only getting Karen pregnant on pre-come. Ike had discovered he actually was fucking gay and Karen found out later that she was pregnant.The two were best friends along with Tricia Tucker. The three amigos were practically inseparable which made this plan extremely difficult. Not to mention Karen recently started dating Fillmore Anderson. Another set back. This, of course, was all to get Kyle back, that damned fucking Jew boy.

Stan Marsh had left just after high school to join the army and Kyle stayed obsessed with school. He used this as an excuse to bury his head in homework rather than wonder why the fuck his heart hurt. Of course, Cartman tried to make him feel better by taking him out but that was a rare occurrence. Hell, just a little fucking attention from Kyle would have been nice. Cartman just wasn’t good enough. All his fucking attention went to his courses and Kyle made no time for Cartman. Therefore, Cartman had to go and find attention elsewhere. He preyed upon Butters Stotch for almost six years. Even poor ass Kenny McCormick had gone to college. He became a male nurse while Kyle became a microbiologist. Fuckers. Kenny always wanted to help people and better himself. He always put others before himself. Then one day he came back to town and literally stole Butters away from Cartman. After that, all Cartman could think of was Kyle. Somehow the putrid Jew always weaseled his way back into his mind, even when he was fucking someone else. Even with Butters, Cartman would imagine that curly, red-headed Hebrew writhing under his body and the images just grew from there.

Craig and Tweek had gotten engaged during their high school graduation ceremony. It was definitely a sight to behold and not one easily forgotten. A year later they were married. As far as Cartman knew, Tweek had opened his own coffee shop in Denver, ‘Tucker’d Out Coffee’ he believed it was called. It supposedly was even better than his parents and had NO traces of drugs, making the little twitchy blonde slightly less twitchy. Craig had a job at the Denver Observatory near the coffee shop. He spent his day looking at stars. Fucking space geek. Kyle had moved to Denver for school and now he worked at some bio-engineering laboratory and Kenny worked at a hospital somewhere in the downtown Denver area. Almost everyone lived in Denver now. Butters lived with Kenny and about six months ago fucking gay-ass Stanley came back from touring in Afghanistan. Honorable discharge so Cartman hears it. Supposedly a few months ago Stan and Kyle actually became a item and it wretched Cartman’s stomach. He was fucking sick with rage and envy. He had been there for Kyle, not Stan. Stan was a notorious alcoholic from early elementary school on into high school. Their senior year Stan held his birthday party at his parents house and got fucking plastered. He took Kyle to his bedroom and tried to drunk fuck him. Cartman saw it all through the gap in the closed-over bedroom door. Kyle had a few drinks, but he was smart enough to hold himself back. Fucking Stan, though, confessed his feelings that night. He even literally threw them up. Cartman thought that Kyle probably didn’t even realize Stan was admitting the truth; Stan’s slurred words were just that of drunken stupor. Thoughts of that night still make Cartman digest rocks. Instead of interrupting them, he just went home to jack off to pictures of Kyle he had collected over the years.

Cartman remembered the next morning. He remembered the look on Kyle’s face when he realized that Stan had forgotten everything that happened the previous night. He saw how much Kyle hurt even if he said nothing about it. Cartman and Kyle actually became really close after that. He thought he would finally have Kyle to himself once Stan was out of the picture. Kyle’s stupid super-best-friend always held him back from being happy. Low and behold, the fucking bastard came back a goddamn hero. Guess the army set his drinking problem straight because he went through police academy and was currently serving as Denver’s rookie police officer. Motherfucker. He didn’t deserve Kyle. No one did. Except Eric fucking Cartman. 

That’s why over a month ago Cartman began sending Kyle texts from unknown numbers. He confessed his love for Kyle over text. He had always intended to tell him in person but Kyle gave him no choice. He knew Kyle knew it was him. He was going to have Kyle to himself whether willingly or by force if necessary. He didn’t know where the couple lived in Denver even with the extensive research on the two. This is where his plan came into play.

Cartman only had a small window for his plan to be operated. He knew Butters and Kenny were coming back to South Park for the last few months of Karen’s pregnancy so she could receive help to finish out high school. She wanted to graduate with her friends. Kenny’s weakness was always his sister and they would be in town by the end of the week.

So there Cartman was: silently opening up the window of the pregnant’s girl’s room. Oddly enough, Karen was living with the Tuckers in Craig’s old bedroom. She was kicked out of her parents house when they found out she was with child. This made Cartman have to work harder at tracking the bitch. This was the first night he had found her asleep in her bed without her damned boyfriend or having some kind of sleep over with Ike. Once the window was open, he clambered his large body through and pulled a Ziplock bag from his thick jacket pocket. Inside was a rag doused in chloroform. He opened the bag, gritting his teeth together as he pulled the plastic grips apart, trying his best to not make a sound. He quickly took the wet rag out as he crossed the carpeted bedroom floor in a few strides. He took in a deep breath and quickly shoved the rag over the Karen’s nose and mouth. It startled her enough to where her big blue eyes flew open and she struggled against him. Cartman used his weight to his advantage and pressed against her. She squirmed and tried to scream but the noxious fumes of the chloroform worked all too well. Her arms fell limp and her eyes fluttered to the back of her head. Now everything else would fall into place...once Cartman figured out how to take the limp body to his mother’s house.

Someone would realize Karen was missing, Kenny would be notified and tell Kyle. Then Kyle would text him. It was all just a waiting game now.

That’s when the transaction would take place.

A trade.

The pregnant teen for the ginger Jew.

chapters are here: 

https://suddensouthparkaddiction.tumblr.com/post/170136571689/revenge-prologue?is_related_post=1

#south park #south park fandom #south park creek #south park bunny #south park style #south park kyman #south park fanfiction #south park karen #south park ike #south park tricia #south park craig #south park tweek #south park cartman #south park butters #south park kyle #south park stan #south park kenny #sp craig tucker #sp tweek tweak #sp kenny #sp kyman #sp kyle #sp stan #sp fanfiction #sp fandom #southpark #karen mccormick #kenny mccormick #kenny #kyle broflovski

[leisurelypanda]

Here We Go Again chapter 5

I’ve decided to update this story every Tuesday to make my life marginally easier. Life Is Good will be updated every Friday as usual.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11776227/chapters/27171306

A couple weeks later, Michael and Craig walked into the ob-gyn office for the regular checkup. They still hadn’t settled on a name, but they agreed to hold off any more discussion on that until they knew the child’s sex. They’d be looking for a heartbeat this time around since the baby hadn’t been cooperating the past couple weeks. Michael was nervous/excited. It was a bit disconcerting to have been to the doctor every other week for checkups. It was understandable, considering that he was “of advanced childbearing age.” There was greater risk than the average pregnancy, but his doctor assured him that he there was nothing to suggest that there was anything to be concerned about. Still, he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a little stressful.

 It also didn’t help that this pregnancy was a bit rougher than his last pregnancy with Amanda. He was more nauseous, more tired, more sensitive to nearly everything. His eating and sleeping habits had completely flipped. He fell asleep at work almost constantly. It would have been really bad if he hadn’t gone to human resources and let them know that he was pregnant.

 They took the measurements, took the blood pressure, and all the other things. Eventually, it came time for Dr. Whittaker to check for the heart beats. Michael was grateful to have a doctor as experienced as her. He felt the device move around on his stomach, the doctor monitoring the screen as she had done the past two appointments. Suddenly she raised an eyebrow and removed the device from his abdomen. Michael had to suppress the sudden panic that rose at the sight.

 “What? What is it?” he asked.

 “Nothing to be concerned about,” she said putting the equipment away. “There is something that I would like to check, however, and I would like to do an ultrasound.”

 Michael consented and they moved them to a room where they could perform the ultrasound and Michael lied down on the bed. He let them smear the gel on his abdomen and set up the ultrasound computer. He tried not to be nervous, but he hadn’t gotten an ultrasound this early in his last pregnancy. Hell the first time he’d even seen an ultrasound machine was when they found out that they were having a girl named Amanda rather than a boy named Adam (Alex liked A names). Craig squeezed his hand reassuringly, though he could tell that he was a bit nervous about what this all meant, too.

 Finally the doctor was ready to perform the actual ultrasound. Michael found himself holding his breath as she moved the head over his abdomen and studied the screen.

 “Michael,” she said without taking her eyes off the screen. “Remember to breathe.”

 He breathed. “Does it affect the picture quality or something?”

 “No, but breathing deeply will help you relax,” she replied. “Trust me. I’m the doctor.”

 Michael took a few short breaths. It was a few minutes later that she seemed to find what she was looking for and she hit a few buttons. When she was done she left the room with the promise that she would be right back.

 “She certainly likes to keep her patients in suspense,” Craig said. “How are you holding up, bro?”

 “Oh, you know,” Michael said nervously. “This didn’t happen last time I was pregnant. I’m worried.”

 “Don’t be,” Craig said. “She said nothing was wrong.”

 “How can you be sure, though?” he asked.

 “Because I’m here. I got you, bro.”

 It was a ridiculous sentiment, but it made Michael smile nonetheless. He squeezed Craig’s hand in thanks and Craig returned it as he kissed his hand.

 Dr. Whittaker returned a minute later with a couple copies of the ultrasound picture. She handed one to Craig and Michael.

 “Michael, the reason why I had an ultrasound performed today was because I believed I detected two heartbeats,” she said. “I was right.”

 Michael was stunned into silence. “You’re having twins, Michael,” she said, smiling. “Congratulations.”

 Craig was the first to recover. “Twins? Again?”

 Dr. Whittaker nodded. “Yes. People who become pregnant past the age of 35 are statistically more likely to have twins due to the body releasing to eggs during ovulation.”

 “So they’re not identical?” Michael asked.

 “It’s impossible to say at this point,” she said. “This ultrasound is earlier than usual since there was more than one heartbeat. We’ll be able to tell near the end of the first trimester.”

 “Is there any additional risk?” Michael asked.

 “Yes, but because your overall health is very good, I expect that your risk is still minimal,” she replied warmly.

 Michael was still in shock as they left the office, but he had to admit that it was equally exciting, pleasing, and panic inducing to know that he was having twins. Craig, fortunately, interrupted his reverie before he could wander too far down the rabbit hole.

 “So if we end up having twin boys,” Craig said. “Does that mean we can call one of them Forrest?”

 Michael rolled his eyes and chuckled, in spite of himself. “No bro,” he said. “I’m still not naming one of my sons, if we have 2, Forrest.”

 “Oh well, it was worth a shot,” he replied light heartedly. “You know what we should do, bro? We should get lunch to celebrate!”

 “Bro, we have to go to work at some point,” Michael said.

 “Do we?” Craig asked, spinning Michael around to face him and wrapping his arms around him, letting his hands rest on his waist. “I run my own business. I can always tell them I’m not coming in. You can call in and tell them you’re working from home today.”

 “And do what, bro?” he replied. “Go home, have lunch, have sex until someone has to get up and get the girls from school?”

 Craig smiled. “I was thinking we could go get lunch, see a movie, walk around town,” he mused. “You know, the kind of date we never seem to have time for. So what do you say, Mr. St Claire? Will you let me spoil you for a day?”

 Michael smiled. “You know, Mr. Cahn, I like the way you think.”

 Craig rubbed their noses together. “And maybe if we have time after that, we can go home and have sex.”

 “I really like the way you think, bro.”

***************************************************************************

As it turned out, they didn’t have time for sex. Not just yet anyway. They were in Craig’s minivan outside their school waiting for them to be released. River was sleeping in her car seat. The twins knew, of course, that something was up with Michael, but he and Craig had decided to hold off on telling them for the moment. They also knew that it couldn’t be that bad because their dad was practically walking on air, something he hadn’t done since the two of them had started dating. Now, of course, it was even worse. Craig could hardly contain himself. It was actually an infectious kind of joy and Michael couldn’t help but feel his heart warm every time their eyes met and he saw the mix of excitement, love, and elation that danced in his bro’s eyes. Especially since Michael himself was a bit nervous, a bit terrified, and a bit ecstatic to be having twins.

 “I should talk to Smashley sometime,” he mused out loud to himself.

 “Why’s that, bro?” Craig asked.

 “She’s been through the whole twin pregnancy thing,” Michael said. “Maybe she can give me a heads up on what to expect.”

 “You can always ask her when we drop the girls off at her place next weekend,” Craig suggested. “Speaking of which, do you think we should tell the girls?”

 “What now?” Michael asked.

 “Sure, why not? We’ve told Amanda already.”

 “She’s 18, though. What if—”

 “Bro, this isn’t the first time they’ve expected a new sibling,” Craig said. “They’ll be fine, I promise.” He took his hand.

 Michael took a deep breath and tried to relax. Finding out that he was pregnant this late in life was scary enough. Finding out he was having twins was even scarier. If only there was a way to make himself calm down and destress. Dr. Whittaker insisted that he would be fine, that his risk was minimal. He needed something to distract himself.

 “I don’t suppose you still have the twins’ cribs, do you?” he asked.

 “Well, I have one of them,” he replied. “Don’t have their bassinets, though. Wasn’t really expecting to have another set of twins, honestly. Or any more kids, really.”

 “I know what you mean,” he said. “We should probably try to get as much as we can before I reach my third trimester and all I’ll want to do is eat and sleep.”

 Craig nodded. “Do you mind if I tell my family?”

 “Of course you can,” he said immediately. “Your family is awesome. Are they coming for Thanksgiving?”

 “You know it, bro,” he said grinning. “Mom told me that I was hosting as soon as I mentioned that we were together.”

 “What, she just told you that everyone was going to come to our house for Thanksgiving?” he asked.

 “Bro, this is my mom,” Craig laughed. “You remember her, right?”

 Michael thought back to the times he had gone to Craig’s house for Thanksgiving when they were in college because they were closer and he couldn’t afford the plane tickets to Florida to see his folks and whenever he had visited them to escape his family. He remembered her chasing a preacher off her property with a broom in one hand and a fire poker in the other when he had “suggested” that she ought to discipline her oldest daughter for being a lesbian. She had then turned around and offered her daughter some lemonade and apple pie. “I remember,” he said fondly. “She threatened to kidnap me if my parents refused to call me Michael.”

 Craig squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry,” he said. “She hasn’t changed a bit.”

 They finally made it to the front of the line. Hazel and Briar ran out of the school and jumped into the car like they had just robbed a bank. They drove home, chatting about their days at school, Craig and Michael strategically leaving out the part about them going to the movies without them. Hazel complained that long division made no sense and that their teacher was just trying to make their lives difficult by not letting them use calculators. Briar bragged about how her team had won the dodgeball game during gym. As soon as they were in the house, Craig announced that they had news for them. He set River down on the floor and she ran off to find something to play with as he took Michael’s hand.

 “Are you getting married?” Briar asked, her eyes lighting up. “Can I be the flower girl?”

 “Why do you get to be the flower girl?” Hazel demanded. “That’s not fair!”

 Craig put his hand to the back of his neck and chuckled. “So much for the big announcement,” he said.

 Michael grinned. “I know, right? They totally stole our thunder.”

 “Wait, if you’re getting married, where’s the ring?” Hazel asked. “Dad, you forgot the ring!”

 “Kids, we’re not getting married,” Michael said.

 “Yet,” Craig amended. Michael blushed a little.

 “I’m pregnant,” he said. “We’re having twins.”

 The twins were quiet for a while. “Aren’t you a guy, though?” Hazel asked. “Isn’t that… impossible?”

 “I’ve told you that I have a female body before, right?” Michael asked. The twins’ eyes widened and they shook their heads. “No I know for sure that we’ve had this conversation.”

 “Nope,” they said in unison.

 “Huh,” he said intelligently. “Well, the short version is that I was raised a girl because the doctor announced that I was a girl when I was born. But I always felt like I was a boy. So when I went off to college I started calling myself Michael and your dad became my roommate.”

 “So you’re like Mr. Bloodmarch,” Briar said.

 “How did you know about Damien?” he asked, a little shocked that they knew about their neighbor but him.

 “He told us once when he was babysitting us,” she said.

 “Besides,” Hazel said. “Everyone knows about him. Are you having boys or girls?”

“We don’t know yet,” Craig answered. “The doctor told us today that we’re having twins.”

“Can you ask the doctor to make at least one of them a boy?” Hazel asked.

Michael laughed in spite of himself. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that, Hazel.”

“But I want a brother,” she said. “When will you find out?”

“It won’t be for another few months, I’m afraid,” he replied. “You’ll just have to wait. You can get started on your homework in the meantime.”

Hazel groaned and dragged her backpack along the floor to the kitchen table dramatically. “Waiting sucks,” she declared.

“Dad?” Briar asked. “Will we have to share our room with the new babies?”

“No baby,” he said, ruffling her hair. “We’re converting the spare bedroom for them.”

She smiled. “Good!” she declared and ran off to get her homework done.

“Well that was interesting,” Craig said.

“Was that how they reacted when Smashley was having River?” Michael asked.

“Well, we were in the middle of a divorce at the time,” Craig said. “So, no not really. It was more stressful, really.”

“I can imagine,” he replied. Craig kissed his temple.

“Wanna help me with dinner?” he asked. Michael nodded and followed him to the kitchen, feeling legitimately excited to be pregnant again for the first time. I can’t wait to tell the rest of the family, he thought.

#craig cahn x dadsona #hazel cahn #briar cahn #river cahn #Here We Go Again #fanfic

[abigail-clark]

Abigail Clark - 24 - Nina Dobrev - Taken.

Hestia - Olympus Academy

Bio

After graduating from Olympus, Abby spent two years at a cooking school in Georgia. Claiming she wanted to be close to her dad after spending so long without him. Danny and Abby had agreed once they got engaged that they wouldn't focus on a wedding until after college and so, keeping true to her word, Abby headed off to the Art Institute in Atlanta to focus on culinary arts. She had her degree by 22 and spent the next year traveling the world with Danny, almost as if she knew one day she'd never be able to see it all again. 

The decision to move to Ludlow once they got back to the states had been pretty easy. Olympus had been 2 hours away from her dad and she'd spent two more years in Atlanta finishing up her schooling. It was Danny's turn to be close to home and with Ludlow being roughly two hours away from his mom, the decision seemed fair enough. It only took Abby about a month to settle down and make Ludlow her own. She opened up her own business, a bakery, called Sweet Temptations and hired on the only person she knew could sell her cakes better than her - Matthew Craig. 

And now with a steady income and school finally being over, Abby can focus on the only thing she really cares about, her future with Danny. With the help of her long time best friend, Charlie the wedding of her dreams has finally come together.

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Amber Phillips - 23 - Taken

Demeter - Olympus Academy

Bio

After Olympus, Amber picked up and moved back hom to California, claiming colleges were better out there. Getting a degree in child education, Amber picked a point on the map, packed up her things as well as her long time boyfriend, Elliot, and her best friend, PJ and moved there. The destination of course, had been Ludlow. 

She'd managed to stay in contact with Nick after they'd graduated from Olympus but hadn't stayed as close. Claiming it was hard with the distance and everything else. Despite the fact that she couldn't really call him her best friend anymore, it never stopped her from picking up the phone every Wednesday night to make her weekly phone call to him. 

Her awkward phase had rubbed off shortly after college started, and Amber was now the funny goofball she'd always wanted to be. She's only been in Ludlow for three months, but she's looking at it as a new start. 

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Veronica Roberts - 22 - Taken

Artemis - Olympus Academy

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Ronnie had always felt a bit lost. Of course she chalked it up to her mom being a Goddess and her father being M.I.A. her entire life, but regardless of circumstances, it seemed she just couldn't be found. Until Olympus, that is. She met Lily, a soft spoken and kind hearted red-head who instantly became her best friend. Which looking back, had made it so difficult to let herself be happy with Nick, the love of her life, and also Lily's ex boyfriend. Once Nick graduated from Olympus and moved onto college, Ronnie decided it was time for her to leave the magical place of Olympus and head off in search of her father. 

Not really telling anyone where she was going, with the exception of a text to Nick, Ronnie packed up and headed back to Hawaii. Finding her dad was rather easy. Hearing what he had to say, wasn't. He wanted nothing to do with Ronnie, and that was hard to take in. Convincing herself she was useless and no good, she broke up with Nick. Claiming it was better to end it now then to get hurt later on. 

A few months later, on the eve of her twenty first birthday, Ronnie got arrested for driving drunk. Not really ready to hear a lecture from Nick or Lily, Ronnie did the only thing she could think to do - she called Ben. An old friend from Olympus and the only person that wouldn't judge her. He bailed her out, no questions asked. And after her court date, she skated by with a years probation. 

Ronnie had no choice but to clean up her act and with the invitation to Danny and Abby's wedding and a very demanding note from her half-sister, Kat, she was on her way to Ludlow to hopefully start a new life.

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After graduating from Olympus, Bridget gave up on her dream of being with Joe. In fact, Bridget wanted to be as far away from Olympus as possible so she packed up her things and did the best she could at running away. Of course, running was always hard to do when Tommy Bryan usually became apart of the running. After Ade left, Bridget had stepped up and helped Tommy out with Campbell. However, she hadn't realized at the time that she'd get so attached to the child or Tommy for that matter.

The decision to move to Ludlow was easy. Probably easier than her agreeing to work for the Titans to protect Ashton all those years ago. Not really knowing what to do or where to go once she got there, she crashed at a hotel for awhile, sending Grace letters pleading the girl to leave the Peace Corps and come live with her, even though she knew Grace wouldn't. Bridget had to do the one thing she hated, work. 

Ashton agreed to let her work in his bar, and soon enough she'd settled down in a nice little apartment. Once Grace had finished her time in the Peace Corps, Bridget let Grace move in with her and the two picked up right where they left off. Most days, Bridget works on hiding her feelings for Ashton and checking in on her brother, Matt. Someone had to take care of him, after all. 

Bridget's still the same as she's ever been, not really interested in making friends with anybody, which makes it pretty easy for her to stay in Ludlow and keep to herself. She always tends to make out well in tips though, considering she has no problem in shameless flirting to get what she wants. 

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#but i just found this is my drafts. and i sob. #i broke up ROCK. who does that?! #and mabby works together #why #why didnt ludlow happen?

[thorne93]

Savior

Prompt: This is for @amarvelouswritings 700 follower challenge. My song was Lady Antebellum - Just a kiss. The story takes place right after Loki lands on Earth (before he visits Berlin) in Avengers (so he hasn’t caused any damage yet).

Fandom: Marvel - Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4160

Warnings: language, suicide/suicidal thoughts, domestic/spousal abuse (emotional and physical), depression...?

Notes: First Loki fic on here (I doubt it’s as amazing as others I’ve seen). Beta’d by the ever amazing @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

~~~~~~~

You ran into the office, winded, stressing about how late you were - 25 minutes, for the--was it the tenth time this month? You winced as every bone and muscle hurt on you, thanks to your asshole husband.

“Y/N,” your boss said as he strolled up to your desk.

“Yes?” You turned instantly to face him. He had always been a rather lenient man for your tardiness and excuses to run home or leave early.

“I’m sorry Y/N, but this is unacceptable. You’re late again. This is the eleventh time this month,” he said, trying to be gentle.

You were getting fired.

You moved in closer and tried to whisper as terror took over your body. “No, Mr. Roberts, please. It won’t ever happen again, I’ll work overtime and you don’t even have to pay me. Please, I can’t lose this job.” You were begging and you hated to do it, but you had to, you were the only one who could support you and Craig. If Craig found out you lost yet another job, he’d take all of his endless rage out on you-your face, your stomach, your arm, your hair...You cringed thinking of the damage he would inflict.

“I’m sorry, we just can’t. Collect your things and leave your key with Julia at the front desk.”

Your heart sped to a million miles per hour. How was this happening? Because that’s how life always happened for you. Your parents abandoned you at a young age of three because they couldn’t be bothered with raising you. You bounced from foster home to foster home until you met Craig, who at first seemed sweet and charming, but as soon as the wedding band was on your finger, it was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

You met in college, but it didn’t take too long before Craig had pressured you to quit college to take care of a home for the two of you. You tried to state that you didn’t have kids yet and there was no reason you couldn’t both take care of the home, but he wasn’t having that. You left college, became a housewife, until Craig’s love for the bottle and the drugs took over and couldn’t hold down even a burger flipping job. You worked as Mr. Roberts assistant for eight months now and it started as usual, Craig let you get a few good months in then he’d start making you stay later and later in the morning, missing more and more. This morning he was throwing beer bottles at you to make his breakfast.

This would be the fourth job in 3 years you’d lost due to his lazy, no good, addicted ridden ass. You hated Craig but you didn’t know how to get away. With your spotty work record and no family or friends to turn to, you couldn’t afford a divorce attorney and even if you could, you were sure he’d kill you before he let you leave him. If he didn’t, he’d at least find you afterward.

You’d cleaned out your desk, your chest constricting from dread as you climbed behind the wheel of your beat up old car. You could always go to the park, or the mall, or somewhere else and not tell him until you got home. You could pretend they let you go at the end of the day.

So you did. Even though you were nervous as hell, and anxiety was rippling through you like electric shock waves, you tried your best to have a good day at the park, you even went and got ice cream, anything to take your mind off the inevitable beating you would be facing when you got home.

Eventually, you knew you had to face the music. You drove into the busted driveway you and Craig shared, grabbed your box out of the back seat, and went inside the broken home.

“Craig, I’m home!” you called out, because if you didn’t address him, he’d be even more of a dick.

“About god damned time! Where the hell have you been?!” he asked, storming out of the kitchen. “I need dinner.”

“It’s only 4:30,” you said in a tired voice.

“What are those boxes? Did you get fired again? Dammit, woman!” His arm reeled back and slapped you so hard you fell to the ground. You thought to fight back but usually that just made it worse. Craig was 6’4 and stocky, he could usually pick you up with one fist, no problem.

“I got fired because you made me make your fucking breakfast,” you growled. At this point in your three year relationship, you’d known what you just said would land you a terrible reaction, but what was the fucking point? You’d lost your only family, your jobs, never had real love….at this point, what did it even matter?

As if on cue, he kicked your stomach. It hurt, but you were numb to it. You no longer cried when the hits, kicks, and stomps came. You laid on the old carpet, taking hit after hit until he was too tired to give any more. You laid for the longest time, just thinking of nothing. Thinking and wishing you were dead. Dead, Heaven, or Hell, had to be better than whatever this life was offering.

After some time, you finally stood up as he sat and smoke and drank, watching some shitty show on an old as hell TV.

“I’m going to go to the store,” you said quietly as he ignored you and you slipped outside. The snow had really picked up since you left work that morning. It was cold, sure, but now it was at least a foot thick on the ground. You dug out the tires from the snow, got in, got the heater going as high as it would go, and started off toward the store for dinner. You weren’t hungry, you were just going to appease that idiot back at the house.

You drove into the giant snowflakes, shivering, your abs hurting from every move you made. The darkness was alleviated by all the white all around, helping to reflect your headlights off of everything. You came across the old bridge you passed every time you went to the store and suddenly a morbid thought crossed your mind.

You pulled over as far as you could off the road and sat there. The idea you had was incredibly far fetched, ludacris, damnable….but it was so inviting.

Getting out of your car and shutting the door with shaking fingers--at this point you didn’t know if you were shaking from cold, fear, or anxiety--you approached the side of the snow covered bridge. Staring down into the icy waters below, it was terrifying, looking at the black liquid running over rocks. You knew this river was deep - the current would either drown you as it held you under and carried you far down the river, or it’d pin you against a rock.

As you climbed on top of the thin, metal railing, you hadn’t realized you were crying, but why wouldn't you be? You were about to end your life and no one would care. Your parents certainly didn’t. You tried to reach out to them many times and they snubbed your requests at meeting. None of your foster homes had ever been kind. Your husband certainly wouldn’t miss you, he’d probably just do coke in your bathroom and find the next whore to sleep with. You had no friends, no neighbors to care. You lived in a small town with no prospects. The only thing you think you would miss was the idea of having kids, but you sure as hell didn’t want them with Craig. You’d simply fade away in death as you did in life.

You were sure you wanted to end your life, but did you want to do it this way? Cold water seemed so harsh. Maybe the cold would cause a heart attack and instant death. Maybe your lungs would collapse. Maybe you’d get hypothermia and get that warm, languid feeling you’d always heard people talk about. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

You gripped the icy steel in your right hand as you tried to muster the courage to just let go. Right as you were about to, a voice called to you.

“What are you doing?” the smoothest, most charming voice asked. It wasn’t demeaning. It sounded more...inquisitive than anything else.

You turned back to your right to see a man in a long black coat, green scarf, and a cane? He had long black hair and pale skin, he was certainly the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on but where did he come from? There weren’t houses around for another couple of miles.

“Who are you?” you asked in return rather than tell this stranger what you planned on doing.

“I’m Loki Laufeyson of Asgard,” he answered as if it was obvious.

“You’re...who? Of where?”

“Forgive me, I forget you Midgardians are a little slow. I am Loki, of Asgard.”

You didn’t take offense to his remark, at this point in your life that was the least of your worries, but who was he? What was a Midgardian? What was Asgard?

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Asgard is a place far from here. It’s my…” He almost said home, but bit his tongue. “I come from there. I’m...a prince.”

Great, an insane fool. “If you’re a prince, then I’m the Queen of England.”

“You’re a queen? Why are you out here with no guards, no chaperones, no king? Why are you on the side of a bridge in frigid weather? Surely your followers must be worried about you!”

Loki didn’t understand the sarcasm.

“No, I’m not a queen. I was just being...sarcastic.”

“Ah. I see,” he said, understanding forming on his face. “If you’re not a queen, then who might you be?” he asked as he continually came forward.

“I--I’m Y/N,” you answered.

“Well, Y/N, if I recall, humans can’t plunge into waters below freezing temperatures and have much hope for survival, so tell me, what are you doing up there?”

You sighed as you carefully got down off the railing, wincing slightly as the movement jarred your insides that were bruised. Why did this stranger of all people, care about you?

“I was...I was trying to end my life,” you admitted, hugging yourself and avoiding the handsome man’s gaze.

“What on Midgard for?” he asked, his eyes narrowing on you.

“My life isn’t...what you’d call fabulous.”

“No one’s usually is, but that doesn’t mean you should end it.”

“How would you know? You’re apparently a prince, which I still don’t buy. Did you escape a looney bin?” you demanded.

“A what? No. I’m a prince. What can I do to show you?” he asked, suddenly craving your approval, your trust.

“I don’t know, show me a crown or something, I guess,” you suggested, feeling silly. You were arguing with a supposed prince in the middle of a snow covered bridge, late in the evening, contemplating suicide.

He pondered it for a moment as he brought his slender hand to his chin. You couldn’t help but admire him, he was lean, tall, handsome, confident...yet somewhere in his blue eyes you saw that look of damage too, he must have endured something, what it was you weren’t quite sure of.

“Ah, here.” He held his hand out and a glowing rose fizzled in between his fingers.

“That’s amazing,” you breathed, completely enchanted at the beauty of it. “How did you do that?”

“Your world would call it magic, mine would refer to it as ability and science.”

You took the rose he offered and smelled it, it even had a fragrance.

“Thank you.”

“Now that you accept I’m not of your world, would you tell me why you were going to end your life? It seems like a rather silly thing to do to me.”

You shrugged. “Perhaps it is silly,” you said as you stroked the petals of the glowing flower. “I just...I lost my job today and I had tried so hard to keep it. My husband is...for lack of a better word - a very bad person. My family abandoned me when I was little. I suppose...I have nothing left to live for.”

Loki stared at you a moment. It was nice to talk to someone, especially so...kind.

“So why didn’t you make them suffer?”

The question took you off guard.

“Because it wouldn’t be right. Just because I’m suffering doesn’t mean I can do that to them. It’d just be easier if I left this world.”

This surprised Loki. You shared a common past of pain, being abandoned by family, no mate to care for you, no true friends. Yet, his idea of revenge was to take what he thought was his, rule over a planet as Odin thought he couldn’t, but here you stood before him, a gentle creature who rather than exact her revenge, you were just going to get rid of yourself.

“I know how you feel,” he suddenly said.

“You do?” you questioned. “How could you possibly know?”

“Believe it or not, royalty have personal problems too. My father abandoned me as well. I was taken in by the king, raised as his own, he promised me the throne, but he always knew he’d give it to his biological son.” He shrugged as if he didn’t care but you could see the pain and betrayal in his expression. “I have no partner, I have no friends to call my own except my half-wit oaf of a brother…”

“I’m sorry,” you said simply. “That sounds lonely.”

“It was. I actually came to your planet to...take over it, but I don’t know about that plan now.” He laughed lightly, the sound amazing to you.  

“Why would you do that?”

“For what I was denied. I was promised the same chance as Thor yet, Odin chose Thor, who was not ready for the throne.”

“And you are?” you asked gently.

“I’m not sure. I...I suppose I wanted to prove a point to the king,” he informed his head held high.

“You know, it’s not always what you do that impresses people, but what you don’t do.”

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds like this king of yours needs you to prove yourself. Has Thor ever controlled any sort of planet or land?”

“No…”

“So why would you think you doing it would impress him?”

“I--I don’t know,” he said, stammering. You didn’t think his icy cool exterior could crack like that.

“Maybe...instead of invasion of another planet, you could go back and discuss it with your brother and father…?” you offered.

“I’m not too sure. They last thought I was dead.”

“Why’s that?”

“I faked my death, fooled them into believing I fell into an abyss. From there, I was taken in by the Chiaturi…”

“What did they do to you?” you asked, as you noticed his eyes had flickered away and looked distant and pained.

“How do you know they did something to me?” he demanded with some vile in his voice.

“It’s obvious, you don’t exactly look like you want to be here. You look...lost to me. Maybe this Chiaturi people are using you or manipulating you.”

He laughed ever so slightly. “You’re exceptionally observant.”

“Maybe, near-death clarity,” you tried with a shrug.

After a moment, he said, “Could you promise me something?”

“What?”

“Will you not end your life?”

You frowned as you looked at the handsome stranger. “Why?”

“Your world needs more people like you.”

You didn't respond except for pursing your lips.

“I, uh, I'd like to take you home, if you don't mind.”

“Home?” you said, your head far off with thoughts of what your life would become if you didn't end it tonight. It seemed bleak.

“Yes, where you live? Surely you don't live here. I just want to make sure you're safe at home.”

“Alright.” What could possibly be the harm? You walked to the car and you noticed that you had forgotten that you had even felt cold. Loki got in beside you as you started the car and pulled out into the snowy road. You turned around and headed home, fearful of Craig.

Neither of you said anything as you drove for 10 minutes to your house, the quiet was peaceful.

“Let me walk you to the door,” he offered kindly.

“Okay.” You got out and he walked with you as your cold hand fumbled with the keys, after a moment or two, the door flung open.  

“Where have you been?!” Craig bellowed.

“I'm sorry. I was just out--”

“Who the fuck is this?” he asked, looking at Loki.

“Um. A friend? This is Loki.”

“A friend huh? You fucking him?!”

“No, Craig--” you began to protest but he grabbed you by the hair and yanked you into the house.  

Right as you tumbled into the wall, you saw him about to swing again before Craig fell toward suddenly onto the floor. Loki was standing over him with his fist clenched, his eyes burning with rage.

“How dare you hit a woman?” Loki seethed. “You cowardly runt of a human.” He kicked Craig and you weren't entirely sure you wanted to stop him.

“Get out of my house, freak, before I call the cops,” Craig warned as he clutched his stomach on the floor. The sight of him being the one in pain at the hands of another probably gave you more satisfaction than it should.

“I’m not leaving until you apologize to Y/N.”

“She doesn't deserve my apology, the lazy whore.”

He bent down in Craig's face as he said, “Poor choice, my friend.” He stood and kicked Craig one more time before he suddenly wielded knives in both hands.

“Loki, don't!” you begged. “Don't kill him.”

Loki's pained face turned to you. “But he beats you. If I don't stop him, then he continue to do it.”

“But killing him isn't the way.”

“What if I took you from here?”

“What?” you asked, flabbergasted.

“Yes. Come back to Asgard with me. We’ll leave all this wretchedness behind. You said

I should make amends, right?”

“You'd do that?”

“Of course.”

You thought about it. What could possibly be worse than where you were now? Even if Loki turned out to be just like Craig, at least it was a chance, a shot out of this hell you’d come to call life. No job, no money, no prospects, no children, and a husband that hated you. Not a whole hell of a lot keeping you here.

“Then yes...take me away from this suffering,” you requested.

“As you wish.” He stood up and helped you up as he said, “Heimdall, I'm ready to come home.”

After a second, a huge tunnel of light landed around you in your living room and with Loki’s arm around your waist, you were sent soaring upward, a kaleidoscope of colors around you as you suddenly landed in a giant golden dome.

“Thank you, old friend,” Loki said.

“Your father wishes to see you,” a man informed that stood on a raised stand in the middle of the dome in a neutral voice.

“Of course.” He looked at you and took your hand. “This way.”

You walked along a bridge of light and color for a long time until you came up to a golden, glowing, enormous palace. So either you had died and this was Heaven or you really were in some other planet, or plane, or world named Asgard.

Together, you entered the palace and after a long maze of corridors, you finally ended in a small room where an older gentleman, and older woman and several guards were.

“Father,” Loki started as he walked in and you realized you were in the presence of a king. Insecurities enveloped you.

“Loki, where have you been?” the woman asked. “And who is this?”

“Let me explain,” Loki said.

“Alright. Loki, you talk with your father and I’m going to help this young woman freshen up.” The Queen stood and came up to you. “Come with me, dear.”

The Queen, who introduced herself as Frigga, helped you into an ornate gown and had two maidens do your hair.

“Where are you from, dear?” she asked as she put makeup on you.

“I’m from Earth.”

“Ah, is that where you met my son?”

“Yes, we just met tonight. He saved my life.”

She stopped applying the eyeshadow and she looked at you. “Did he now? How noble.” She smiled at this knowledge.

When you were finally done, Loki came and found you as he asked Frigga if it was alright if you stayed with them.

“I don’t want to impose,” you said shyly.

“Nonsense, sweet girl. You can stay here as long as you want,” Frigga insisted. She smiled and left you with Loki.

“What did your father say?”

“He said that he was disappointed I didn’t come back home. He apologized for not telling me the truth. He said that Thor has been looking for me and will return home now.”

“What about the throne?”

“He said he’ll put us through various tests to see how we do. He said he’s going to try and be a fairer king and father to me.”

“See? Communication is all you need,” you said, smiling, feeling like royalty talking to a prince in a pretty dark blue gown.

“You were right,” he said as you began walking aimlessly with him, his arms behind his back. “You know, I’ve never opened up to anyone.”

“Me either,” you admitted. “It’s easy with you though.”

“I feel the same,” he informed with a genuine smile. His mood seemed 100% better now that he was home, now that his animosity was settled.

“So what do I do now?” you asked as you ended up at a balcony under the stars and cosmos, the view taking your breath away.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, back home, I had a job, a home, a husband. I don’t have that now. What can I do in Asgard? Farm? Make jewelry?”

“You could simply do as my mother does. She reads and practices magic.”

“I’m hardly magical.”

“I beg to differ,” he said quickly, making butterflies erupt.

“I mean, what should I do for a job?”

“Why don’t you relax? Your life doesn’t sound as if it was easy. Maybe, just for a little while, you could simply be by my side during some days? I could teach you how to fight, how to wield a sword, we could read. Do you like to read?”

“Mhm.”

“See? There are a few activities we could do together.”

“Alright. I’ll do that, then.”

“Excellent.”

You wanted to kiss him so bad, under the moonlight, the stars, everything. It all seemed so wonderful and perfect and for the first time ever in your life, you felt happy, which is what terrified you.

He must’ve felt it too, because he leaned in and you stopped him.

“No I don't want to mess this thing up. I don't want to push too far. Just a shot in the dark that you just might be the one I've been waiting for my whole life.”

Loki nodded as he leaned back. “We don't need to rush this, I suppose. Let's just take it slow.”

“Right,” you agreed. But the fire burning inside both of you was blazing, and you wanted to kiss him.

“But...Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight, wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” he asked with a coy smile.

“Loki, you mischievous devil,” you teased as he leaned in again, and this time, you didn’t fight it. His lips were tender and gentle against yours, molding perfectly with yours. It was sweet, and quick, with an undercurrent of heat.

He lead you to your private quarters and bid you a good night, with just a kiss. As he walked away and you slipped into your suite and began to get ready for bed, you thought to yourself, “I know that if we give this a little time, it'll only bring us closer to the love we wanna find, it's never felt so real, no it's never felt so right.”

With your old life happily behind you, you slipped into the best sleep of your life, ready for a happy beginning tomorrow.

#savior #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fic #loki x reader

[buckyismyaesthetic]

Punk (Chap. 3)

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 3324 (I know, long.  But it’s because idk when I’m gonna have more time to write the next chapterssss)

Warnings: Cursing, low-self esteem, chubby!reader x bucky, idk….

A/N:  I’m overwhelmed with the feedback on the first 2 chapters!  love you guys and i can only hope to live up to your expectations with this and all future installments!

If there was one thing you hated more than anything else in the world it was clothes shopping.  OK, that’s not entirely true.  Hydra was definitely up there…and commercials’ whose volume was louder than the show you were just watching so you had the crap scared out of you by some lady who was dancing and trying to get you to buy tampons so you’d ‘have a happy period’ (no such thing)… you really hated when you stepped in puddle on the kitchen floor while only wearing socks…any sort of insect…when you bought a book series but, for some unfathomable reason, the individual books weren’t the same height, because that’s just ridiculous.  Why would anyone think it’d be acceptable to have books 1, 2, 3, and 4 to all line up perfectly on the shelf then have 5 be slightly taller only to then revert back to the original proportions for 6 and 7?!  It’s was utter nonsense and the people responsible for inflicting such depravity on the literary world should—

Rap! Rap! Rap!  “Get dressed!”  Nat hollered from the other side of the dressing room door.  “I’m going to pay for these.  Meet me at the register.”  The clinking of hangers and rustling of clothing signalled her departure as you hopped back into your jeans and slipped your “Talk Wookie to me” T-shirt back on.  You let out a sigh at your reflection.  Can’t wear this anymore, you thought dejectedly. It was your favourite shirt. Faded, thin, and baggy from having been thrown into the wash so many times it was a shadow of what it once was.

But this was your decision.  You asked—begged—Natasha to get you some girlier clothes, and that she did.  Though she had to drag you through the stores kicking and screaming. She was a real trooper.  She’d found things that emphasized the boobs you don’t have, and dresses that cinched to give you some semblance of hips and a waist, and there were heels—God, where there heels.  Heels with pointy toes and heels with opened toes.  Heels with straps to hold you in and heels without straps designed for you to fall out.  And the pants—why were they so freakin’ tight?  Your legs felt like they’d been sausage wrapped.  How were you supposed to sit or breathe or eat?  And why was your underwear always showing when you sat down?  And how come all those shirts were so flimsy and short and see through?  You had to buy second shirt just to wear under the first one!  The injustice!

But it really didn’t matter what she had picked out; you felt like wolf in sheep’s clothing nonetheless.  Even when Natasha swore up and down that you looked nice in everything you tried on, you couldn’t see it. You believed what your eyes showed you, not what your friend said.  You could still see the fat rolls fighting straining fabrics, pulling at the seams. Nothing looked like how you’d imagined it in your head.  And everything just seemed too tight and uncomfortable.  And though you were trying on clothes, you couldn’t help but feel naked and exposed as you glared at your reflection in the floor-length mirror.

With a heavy sigh, you trudged from the dressing room to meet Natasha.  She handed you back the receipt and your credit card and you almost passed out in the middle of the mall.   “This is obscene!  This is a down payment on car or a home or a kid!”

“Could’ve just made Tony pay for it,” Nat sing-songed.

“No, no one can know about this!”  

“Oh, yeah, because you suddenly walking around like Malibu Barbie won’t be suspicious at all.”

“Shut up, Natasha.”

Being the incredibly skilled spy that she was, Natasha managed to sneak you back into tower without running into anyone besides F.R.I.D.A.Y who didn’t really count as a person and who didn’t really care about operation-get-Bucky-to-fall-madly-in-love-with-you.  Natasha didn’t know about the name…

Your bedroom was down the same hallway as Bucky’s and Steve’s, past the kitchen, but closest to the side balcony where Tony had set up a little garden.  You liked to go there and read.  Or sit in the sun with your fat black cat, Ferdinand, who liked to chase butterflies and lounge in patches of sunlight.  And occasionally you’d wander out there to feed the pigeons which you and Bucky had dubbed “Sam’s babies” after you two had lured him out there, thrown a loaf of Italian bread out after him, and locked the door.  He’d shrieked “Rat’s with wings!” for days afterwards, jumped whenever someone cooed, and twitched whenever a bird flew past a window.

But you didn’t have time for those sorts of shenanigans anymore, you thought wistfully as you flung the shopping bags into the closet, slammed the door, and listened to the bags crash against it.  You’d clean it up later…probably…

A knock sounded at the door.  “Yeah?” you called as you pushed against the closet door and glared, practically daring it to open and release the mess from within.  

“Hey, Punk,” Bucky said as he stepped over the threshold.  Punk.  Ugh.  What? No, hey Y/N, you’re looking exceptionally spectacular today.  And by the way I love you.  He eyed the shirt he’d seen you in a thousand times before and gave you a smirk.

“Hey, BB,” you replied with an embarrassed tug at your collar; it was the little pet name you had for him and only you got away with using it.  Peter had tried once and ended up getting shoved off the end of the couch rather unceremoniously.  “What’s up?” Bucky made himself comfortable on your unmade bed and, as it usually did when Bucky sat in your room, heat crept up your neck as your brain exploded with thoughts of oh my god he’s in my bed, he’s in my bed!

Ferdinand, as he was prone to do, interrupted Bucky before he could speak, chirruped and snuck out from having been hibernating in the dusty, dark corners under the bed for the majority of the day.  He wound his way through Bucky’s legs and rubbed his face all over his boots.  “Hey, Ferd,” Bucky chuckled, scratching the cat’s ears.  Ferdinand purred like a motor boat and flopped onto his back, exposing his belly.  Having fallen prey more than once to this so called show of submission, Bucky leaned over and rubbed Ferdinand’s tummy with his metal arm.  Ferd pounced, claws and fangs extended, but not even the ferocious tenacity of a house cat could dent that metal and he huffed and hopped onto the bed, content with leaning against the soldier’s thigh and falling asleep.  Bucky chuckled and pet his fur.  You smiled.  Ferdinand, like his owner, loved Bucky, though he was far more comfortable showing it.  You often found them snuggling in the living room and, though he denied it, you were pretty sure Bucky slipped Ferd table scraps and was the one who got him hooked on catnip…

“What’s up?” you repeated.  The awkward silence had extended long enough for your liking.

“Nothin’ much.  Jus’ wonderin’ if you wanted ta come train.  I’m meetin’ the rest of the boys down there in a few,” he said pulling the first stuffed animal he could find onto his lap where he tugged absentmindedly at its ears.  The movement caught your attention and you groaned inwardly. Ugh!  You’re stupid bed.  Grown women had tasteful throw pillows and bed skirts…and sheets!  Your room looked like the love child of a frat boy and the winner of a Dungeons and Dragons game.  Nobody would walk into your room and think; hmm I bet some sexy supermodel lives here.  No.  Their first thought would be; please find the twelve year old boy who lives here and introduce him to a vacuum cleaner!

Distractedly, you looked around the room.  It was your safe place…or at least it used to be. Where you could be Y/N.  Where it was okay to have movie posters and memorabilia, where your costumed jewellery could be displayed like the Crown Jewels, where each video game system had a place and shelf, where the DVDs took up a book case all their own, where fantasy books could fill all the crannies and all the nooks.  And though he’d been in here a thousand times before, Bucky’s presence, all of the sudden, made you embarrassed of this place and everything in it.  Ashamed of everything that you loved because it wasn’t ‘cool’ enough, wasn’t ‘feminine’ enough, wasn’t ‘good’ enough…not for Bucky.

This room wasn’t like Natasha’s or Wanda’s. It wasn’t a woman’s room.  It didn’t have a woman’s touch, or smell, or style.  Instead it was filled with toys and posters and the sheets clashed with the pillow cases.   Nat’s room, when not being taken over by Clint and his mess, was filled with guns and knives and grown-up books like “Zen and the Art of Assassination” and “How to Build Your Own Supercomputer without Really Trying”.  Her room had candles and art.  Real art. The stuff they hang up in museums. Paintings of cottages and fairies painted by old, dead, Italian guys.  The pictures on her wall weren’t purchased at Comic Con.  And Wanda’s room didn’t look like it was designed from a page in the kids section of the IKEA catalogue.  The Sokovian’s bedroom was filled with puffy cushions and potted plants.  Everything was soft and pale and radiated warmth. Her style was minimalist.  Things looked clean; her room was clean.  She actually vacuumed. And dusted!  She used coasters!  Her furniture matched; she’d bought a bedroom set.  You, on the other hand, bought your night table from the thrift store and paid some college kid three hundred bucks for your mattress after hitting the first link you found on Craig’s List.

“Hell-oo?” Bucky’s voice pulled you out of your musings.

“Yeah, hi, sorry.  Huh?  What’s up?” you gushed, Good.  No, that’s good, not at all weird.

Bucky smirked and you wanted to smack his stupid, beautiful face.  “I asked if ya wanted ta come train but ya spaced out.”

“I did not.”

“Did too. Thinkin’ about Star Wars again?”

“No.”  Though the new move was spectacular.

“That show with the dragons?”

“Game of Thrones, you know what it’s called you watched it with me.  And no.” You pulled the stuffed animal from his hands and tossed it on the chair where you’d piled up all of the freshly laundered clothes you hadn’t bothered to put away for three days.  Ferdinand opened one eye and gave you a nasty look. Apparently the movement had disturbed him.

“Oh yeah,” Bucky said with exaggerated understanding.  “The one with the naked people!  Is that what you were thinkin’ about?  Porn?” He waggled his eyebrows teasingly and gave you sly grin before swiping his tongue over his lips.

“No!” you yelped loudly.  That little tease of tongue got you all flustered.    “I wasn’t!” Great, now he thinks I’m lying.

He blew out a disbelieving puff of air from his nose and said sarcastically.  “Sure, sure.”

Your face heated up as if you were standing in front of an oven and you were pretty sure that he could see sweat stains forming underneath your arm pits.  You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed, “Really, I wasn’t!” 

Bucky, with a mysterious gleam in his eye, cocked his beautiful head to the side in thought.  He’d recently cut his once long hair into a shorter more modern do that left a layer of soft, dark curls on top that made your fingers twitch with desire to card through.  He nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.  You wouldn’t think about that stuff at all.”

The fuck that’s supposed to mean? You felt your eyes widen fractionally with shock and your brain went into overdrive coming up with interpretations to what Bucky could’ve possibly meant.  What, fat girls can’t think about sex? Is that too repulsive of a thought? To think that someone who doesn’t have a body like a porn star could ever fathom getting down and dirty?  You could be dirty.  Hell, the things you imagined doing with Bucky, doing to Bucky were downright sinful.  NC-17.  Rated XXX. Not suitable for all audiences.  The things you pictured he could do with those hands, that mouth, that body.  Oh lordy, you spent many sleepless nights with visions of you two perfectly entwined, writhing together, gasping for air, moaning in ecstasy.  

The silence stretched on for what felt like eons before Bucky slapped his palms on his knees, irritating Ferd who yawned and crawled up to sit on your pillows, and got back to his feet.  “You okay, Punk?” He asked gently.  The way his voice lowered in a soft whisper seemingly full of concern had your heart fluttering like a hummingbirds.  But then he had to go and ruin it with that stupid nickname.  The nickname that didn’t relay any hint of affection.  Punk punk punk punk.

“Yeah, just tired,” you lied.  “I was shopping with Natasha all morning.”

“We went over this; no more books until you get another shelf.”  He motioned to the pile of books you’d arranged next to your bed since you’d run out of room on the book cases. 

You smirked.  He had a point.  “We were clothes shopping, B.”

Bucky blinked his big, beautiful eyes stupidly at you.  “What? Why?  You hate clothes shopping.  You never go clothes shopping.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically.  “I buy clothes.  I need clothes.”  He glanced at the mountain of folded clothes on the chair and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Different clothes.”  

“What’s wrong with the ones you got?”

Everything. So many things.  They’re wrong.  “Nothing, just—I dunno, tryin’ somethin’ different, that’s all.”  It came out all mumbled and you refused to look him in the eye, instead watching your slipper clad foot graze the hardwood floor.  Maybe you hadn’t thought all this stuff through quite right.  Yeah, you wanted him to notice a change, why the hell otherwise wold you blow an entire pay check on a bunch of getups you didn’t even like? But you didn’t think he’d notice. Like ask questions.  You thought it would be like in those teen movies where you walked down the stars looking all lust worthy and he’d stand there, mouth agape, at a loss for words by your breath-taking transformation into a certified bombshell.  But noooooo. You hadn’t even put anything on and he was suspicious of you.  Asking questions.  Already looking freaked out.  Faaaaacccckk. 

“Okay, I was—” but he didn’t finish his sentence as his phone buzzed in his pocket.  “Sorry,” he said, picking up the device and looking at the screen.  

You smiled, remembering it was you who had taught him how to operate it.  You’d found him a ringtone and showed him how to set up backgrounds, even forcing him to take a selfie with you and making it your icon for when you called him. Vaguely, you wondered if he still had it or if he’d decided to go back to leaving it blank, instead of having to look at your abominable face.

“Change of plans, we’re goin’ for a run instead,” Bucky grinned.  “Relax, you’re off the hook.  I’ve seen ya run,” he laughed lightly.

Um, what? What the hell’s that supposed to mean? Sure, you despised running in every form and you didn’t exactly keep quiet about it.  But that didn’t mean you couldn’t do it, maybe not very fast or for very long, but that was beside the point; you could run.  Immediately you became self-conscious.  ‘I’ve seen ya run’.  Oh god, did he see your thighs jiggle with every heavy step as you practically Hulk-stomped the pavement?  Did he notice the slight waddle you did as your legs shook with the effort to keep pace?  For the love of all things holy, please don’t say he noticed your thighs rubbing together or how you’d have to stop to pull up your leggings as your muffin top bounced loose and pushed the fabric down and under the roll.  Subtly, you pulled on your shirt to make it baggier, so as not to emphasise the fat underneath.  

“Anyway, I gotta go, Punk.  We’re goin’ out tonight.  ‘Round ten.  You in?” He asked.   

You weren’t up for a repeat of last night. Your self-esteem was already shot to shit and if you had to watch another flawless woman wrap herself around Bucky you might just spontaneously combust in a jealous rage or attack any woman within a ten foot radius of Bucky like a rabid dog.  You sighed heavily.  Just the image of Bucky with someone else had you feeling uglier by the minute.  

“Uh, no thanks.” 

“Really?  Again? You always come out with us,” he argued.

“I have plans already,” you lied.  “With, uh, Nat and Wanda.  Girls Nite.  We’re goin’ out.”  Lie.  Lie. That’s a lie.

Bucky nodded, lips pursed in amusement.  “Since when do you do ‘Girls Nite’?”  He made the finger quotes in mid-air.  

His incessant questioning was getting on your nerves.  You hadn’t planned on having to come up with so many lies so early in the game.  This isn’t how it is in the movies!  The dude isn’t supposed to ask so many questions!  Just accept the metamorphosis and move on! You replied, annoyed with his over emphasis on ‘you’. “You don’t know everything about me, Bucky.” Oh, yeah! Be a lil’ sassy!  Be mysterious!  Natasha’s gonna be so proud.

Bucky smiled at that.  “I know more than ya think, Punk.”  He gave you a wink and your heart dropped into your butt.  Oh god, does he know?  Please don’t know.  I’m not ready, I’m not ready.  I haven’t practiced what to say or do, I was gonna make a speech and, fuck, I’m wearing this stupid fucking shirt— “Alright, I’ll see ya at dinner then. We’re orderin’ Chinese and rumour has it that there’s pie for desert,” he teased and gave you a poke to the ribs that made you squirm away, not wanting him to prod the blubber. 

Ugh, he knows I eat!  But, fuck, I do love pie.

“See ya later,” and he clapped you on the shoulder and strutted out the door.  Mm mm mm!  That walk!  He was a typical ‘hate to see ya go but love to watch ya leave’ kinda guy.  The sexy lean, the hip swivel, and hot damn that ass! You could watch Bucky strut his stuff all day long.  He was one fine piece of man-candy.

You shook your whole body like a dog shaking off water. Calm yourself, woman!  Be cool. Be cool.  Once the Bucky fog lifted, you couldn’t help but dwell on your conversation and the conclusions you had drawn, mainly that you were fat and ugly and decidedly not sexy.  It wasn’t news to you, but the fact that Bucky was even minutely aware of any of those things made you want to fling yourself in front of a bus…at least then your stomach might be flat.

And thinking of that, you looked down at your Pillsbury Doughboy tummy and poked it angrily.  “Go away,” you scolded it.  “You ruin everything.”

With a deep, resigned sigh you gave up and changed into workout clothes, keeping your back to Ferdinand so as not to give the little perv a chance to oogle. Maybe some kickboxing would make you feel better.  You could imagine your face on the bag as you punched away.  And while you were at it you could talk yourself into a night on the town—OH MY GOD I DIDN’T TELL NAT AND WANDA!

You raced out of your room, hoping that Bucky hadn’t already run into either woman and mention the plans you’d made for them without their knowledge…Operation-get-Bucky-to-fall-madly-in-love-with-you turning out to be a lot more complicated than you had originally thought.

TAG LIST:  strike-through means the tag doesn’t seem to work.  If your tag doesn’t work for some reason, send me a message and I’ll take a look.

@hymnofthevalkyries @andimadeitawkward @annadier@notsoprettykitty @4theluvofall  @thewinterher0 @avengerofyourheart @fab-notfat @danimuhle @sleepretreat @sociallyimpairedme@iamwarrenspeace @markandjackaremysuperheros@unevenpages @itsjuliefloyd @grabdatgem@fantasticimpaladoctor@criminalist @reedsreadsreviews @duetly@crapythings@anxiouslittleghst@38leticia  @Iroa46  @satanicedition @ro-52 @mora-firestone@plumsforbuck2016 @colouredwater@happelu970@spoopyjamesbarnes@magickm00nlady@amyyleblanc1999 @guiltyissues@lunarwolf13oo@rougedemigods  @snow107@allheart36@bxtchybrie @lady-sloan@hek-diddly-darn @wintersdoll@sarcasticvodka@garibaypau @xllxni @nalatheblacklion @eileenlikesyou-maybe@mayfeather27@allofthesearetakendafuq @leoberosis@widowsfics@smilingkat @pretentiousaf @the–baroness@musichowler @lillian-paige @that-one-third-wheel3@oceanilserain @iyanahhhh@namastay-in-bed-2002 @immaturityisthekeytoimmortality @kaiyaisbae @cojootromuelle @chin-up-love @abigrumple@harrysbbby @k-nighttt @stephvera @accidentally-in-hell @givemethatgold  @just-call-me-your-darling@winterboobaer @kissingwintergoodbye @chasing-after-rock-and-roll@sarcasmdressedinjeans   @bootsthemonkeykat @my-little-texas-tornado @zohoffman @the-witching-hours12-3  @helloitspattes @tomlinsonlovers @superscrat  @borntodieabitch @bitchy-tacos@summerbummer2001 @silent-yet-significant @jacks-on-krack @cry-me-a-fkin-river @mizzpzpink @basicallybucky @kaiyaisbae @stucked82@loveyourselfcreateyourself @brokenanxiety @smile-sugar @pederol@gallifreyanass @yesiamdeliciouslycaffeinated@sirtheoraeken @kelso7116 @cami23593@wydari @ancchor @theariel85 @lissabelle116@snugglebuck  @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @bemself123 @promarvelfangirl @do-you-mind-if-i-slytherin1 @anitavalija @theassetseyeliner  @mcuofstucky @feelmyroarrrr @sarahsassafras13@amrita31199 @abovethesmokestacks @tearsandbloodofmyenemies@thebabewiththepwr @mrshopkirk @callmebucky-doll @ursalaismymiddlename @nopevilleluas@thatawkwardtinyperson @theloveablesociopath @whintersoldiers @eireannhwb @wandering-at-midnight @lenia1d @marvel-lucy @confuzzled-panda  @5-seconds-of-sebastian-stan @claryfray1698 @echelonwonderland

#punk #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x chubby!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky angst #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #avengers fic #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fanfiction

[cosmosogler]

today i did barely anything!!! i got up like five minutes earlier than i did yesterday. i was having dreams... i don’t remember what they were about this time. i woke up exhausted and droopy-eyed already. 

what even happened all day... i mostly stayed in my room. for lunch i had more hummus because i hate myself and the hummus was really spicy so i ate all of it. that’s a whole tub gone in the span of less than 24 hours.

after that i hung out with eve and the doog for a while. then mom and i went to the grocery store. mom had to yell at me about the potato salad though, because i said i tolerated feta cheese and she took that to mean i loved it or something and then got upset with me when i wasn’t too excited about the recipe when we were buying the vegetables and feta cheese. 

the pain had started before that though, when i was standing with the cart at the deli while mom looked at vegetables. it’s hard to describe. it was under my chest, but pretty deep in there. i was not happy at all. it made me want to stop breathing, even though it wasn’t my lungs or diaphragm in particular that hurt. it was below them. it felt like something heavy was sitting on my organs. i was nervous about making any displays of pain though because mom likes to either overreact because something is wrong with her baby!!! or tell me it’s all in my head and i’m overreacting.

yeah, i know.

so i hobbled around the aisles behind her and tried not to imagine actually eating any of the food on the shelves while still trying to make decisions about my meals for the next week. i thought i was gonna throw up. 

hummus... doesn’t make me sick. i don’t know what was happening. when we got home i forced myself upstairs and stayed in my room for a long time again. i couldn’t get comfortable though. the chair is rubbing against my legs all wrong and the carpet feels wrong on my feet and my feet aren’t sitting right and i keep fidgeting. that was happening a lot yesterday too, and last night. it took foreverrrr to fall asleep. 

i felt kinda bad about going out in public with the gross patch of damaged skin on my face. it’s like, a little bigger than a dime. i accidentally scraped it and it was like, screaming internally for a whole minute. i will try not to mess with it before i go to bed...

then i took eve and wiley for a walk!!! together!!!! that was a really bad idea. they really bring out the worst in each other. they both pulled as hard as they could the whole time because eve likes to be in front but her leash is a few inches shorter than wiley’s. and wiley likes to annoy eve so he made sure to stay out in front. and when one of them stopped to check out a bush, ONLY one of them stopped, so i’d get jerked forward when the other one took off. a little girl and her dad were at the park and wiley got a few pettings, but eve started barking and whining because the people were too close to her. and wiley doesn’t usually stop to poop in the evenings, but today he did! so we had to truck it all the way back to the park to throw away the bag and get a new one from the dispenser. eve was happy to go inside and lay down when we got back home, but we didn’t go far enough to tire wiley out.

i dunno. i told myself i’d take them both out today and take wiley out for a while, but when it came time to walk them i was just so tired and the muscles in my toes were really hurting me. that hasn’t gone away.

after i fed the dogs i was watching diogi trip her way around the table and i suggested to mom that we get her some booties for her back legs, to give her more traction. mom said that dad is taking her to mike tomorrow. since that response had nothing to do with what i said, i assume she meant that when diogi goes to the vet tomorrow, she might not come back.

i am really struggling emotionally with this. when i was sitting at the table after dinner dad said that randi was a lot like this too at the end. i said “yeah but randi was... dying.” she’d had cancer and was unable to walk the last few days... dad said “yeah exactly.” i said that diogi’s case was pretty different, since she seemed very alert. and also she eats everything i put in front of her. randi wouldn’t eat anything and when she drank water she threw it up.

when is the right time to euthanize your pet? is there even a right time? i mean yeah at some point they are in a lot of pain and they’re not going to get better, but diogi doesn’t seem too bothered by it right now. are you supposed to kill the dog before they are in too much pain? why doesn’t that extend to all of old age? why not quit while you’re ahead, before everything goes bad and you’re still happy? why be alive in the first place?

i don’t want my dogs to die... but i know that it will happen whether i accept it or not. and it will probably happen soon. it’s not something you can put off forever or until you’re ready to deal with it like making a phone call or emailing your grad schools about a change in your transcript. which i still haven’t done (ha ha). i keep hoping that “soon” will extend farther and farther out every day my dogs are still alive but they are both thirteen. that’s not how it works.

i feel bad about mourning them while they’re still alive... i think that no matter how ready i think i am for it, i will still shatter into a million pieces when it happens. and who am i going to go to for comfort. my mom treats them like furniture. my dad is Manly and therefore emotionally unavailable. my brother does his best to emulate dad. my gramma and grampa are going to say “that’s life.” 

i am probably going to outlive gramma and grampa too.

it destroyed me that i didn’t get to be with randi and jake when they died, not really. i was upstairs when randi died on the floor. i should have been with her. the last thing jake saw was some vet he didn’t know. i think by that point he was so far gone he didn’t know what he was looking at any more though.

crying too hard, eyes dried out, burns, going to take small break.

mmmm i made some plans with asher to hang out on tuesday. i also talked a little bit about how mother is a turbo asshole. i will try to remember to write about that more maybe later. 

oh. today before dinner i was talking to mom about something. i guess i was watching her cook dinner. diogi was trying to walk and fell down on the slick wood paneling. so she just laid down. eve walked over and laid down next to her. i said “aww, i wish i’d brought my phone.” mom said “why,” and i said “look at those two losers.” mom turned around and saw them laying side by side, leaning against each other, and said “i have my phone right here.” i said “yeah but is the clicker thing turned off?” and she said “yeah.” diogi hates cameras and bright lights. her old owner’s roommates used to shine flashlights in her eyes so she’s real skittish around anything that flashes. neither of them likes the “picture taken” click that the phone makes.

so mom pulled out the phone and very slowly stood there trying to get a picture. diogi noticed and sat up. i said “she’s probably not going to lay back down,” and mom said “just wait.” so i sat down by wiley, which encouraged both eve and doogles to get up and walk over. mom whipped out the camera and it both flashed AND clicked. diogi took off. i actually got mad for real.

“you said the clicker was off!” i said. mom shrugged. “at least i got a picture.” “that wasn’t the point,” i said. 

i found diogi trying to hide under dad’s side of the bed.

it’s kind of fascinating how little other living things matter to mother. 

ok, i will talk about mother a little bit since it’s not 1 yet and i gotta make sure i go to bed later than i want every night. 

mom acts like she thinks other people/animals don’t have feelings. if she does think they have feelings, she definitely doesn’t think those feelings are as real or as important as hers. 

and... there’s not really anything wrong with putting yourself first. but she’s so mean about it. she will only do something you ask as long as it’s something she already wanted to do. she will only keep your secrets for as long as she feels like. she will only listen to what you say until she wants to hurt you. then she takes what you said and throws it back at you. and anything can make her want to hurt you. it doesn’t even need to have anything to do with you.

sometimes (every time without fail) she asks me a question and while i’m in the process of answering, like actually talking, she will ask the same question in a different way. like, why do you ask me like you want an answer if you don’t actually want to hear what i have to say? 

there is nothing that i actually like about her. i can see that she’s good at some things, and useful for others, but... i don’t like those things about her either. am i a bad person for viewing my mother as a tool more than a person i want to interact with? does that mean i see other people like that too? am i capable of seeing other people as anything more than useful for whatever? can that really be considered friendship?

it’s so hard to not distance myself from people. they are obviously not machines that behave predictably and consistently. anyone could attack me at any time for any reason. that’s what mother does. that’s what my dad does. that’s what my sister does. that’s what craig did. that’s what all the kids at christian school did, and jim did, and and and

and what i did until basically college. violently and often without warning. i had no idea what was going on with my temper. i deserved everything that happened to me. it’s what i inflicted on other people. every time craig hurt me, i deserved it, because i would say things just to hurt other people too. that’s why i stayed with him for so long. it was my punishment for seeing the world the way mother sees the world, and treating the people in the world like mother would.

i had to be punished. it was fair. if i got away with what i did i would have felt bad about it forever. even though i still feel really bad about it. so, you know. i just can’t forgive myself for acting on my rage. for throwing temper tantrums and kicking and screaming well into grade school. for all the times i didn’t go to class because i wanted to stay outside. for all the times i wandered off from detention because the sun was hurting my eyes and sitting outdoors doing nothing in the middle of the day in august in phoenix arizona was boring and hard. for all the times i didn’t get up to use the bathroom because i had something more interesting to do until mom threatened me with diapers. no wonder she thinks i’m mentally challenged. for yelling at my friends and pouring water on them even during middle school. 

in christian school i got what i deserved. i didn’t deserve friends. i deserved all the times i got spat on and told on even when i didn’t do anything wrong, all the times i got pushed around and beat up and tied to the goalposts on the soccer field. i’m lucky i was physically disabled (mom didn’t think so though) or else i might have physically hurt someone.

i’m so miserable. i miss having a partner. don’t look at me. my face is bleeding.

#i talk about animal death #but no one actually died recently so dont worry

[hudson4him]

4/9/20 Still under quarantine. It’s been a week since I last updated.  Our grocery stores are now limiting the number of people allowed in at one time. The CDC has asked that everyone wear masks when going out in public.  We are still told to stay at home unless we are essential employees or needing to make food or medical purchases or going to the doctor.  

Marty’s dentist appointment to replace his crown was canceled indefinitely.  My dermatologist appointment for next week was rescheduled for July. Most public schools began online teaching with their students as of this week.  Marty’s employer told them that they would continue their increased 25% pay until at least May now and that they are all guaranteed a 100% of their bonus that pays out in May.  Still no word on the stimulus checks and my unemployment.  Unemployment is at an all time high and I don’t expect to hear anything for a while. I am thankful that we aren’t reliant on that money.  I ordered a treadmill because, well, eating too much and being stuck inside has not been a good combination for me.  As soon as it arrives I will be turning my focus to better eating and exercising every day. Until then I will probably continue to stuff away my emotions in my Lofthouse cookie eating.  My son never complains about not going anywhere but this is not how I envisioned his school year.  Our homeschool review plans have not been discussed by our umbrella at church so I’m not sure what that will look like. Of course you already know the situation my daughter has faced with college.  The college did say they will be reimbursing some fees by the end of April. We don’t know an amount though.

Today I used Instacart to order my groceries from Aldi.  My daughter, Katie works there occasionally and was able to grab my order.  I definitely had more luck getting the items I wanted.  The only downside is the cost.  However, every time I go to order from Walmart pick up they never have what I am looking for.  I don’t like having to pay an order fee and a tip but I also like the convenience of it all right now.  Items that are still difficult to get are: toilet paper, Lysol, Lysol wipes, ramen noodles, spaghetti, and some candy. Funny because in the beginning, all you could find was junk food.  I guess everyone is moving on to the emotional junk food now.  

Last weekend I did clean out my closet and Braydon’s old clothes.  We had about 4 boxes of books and 6 bags of clothes and odds and ends to get rid of.  A lady from the American Cancer Society came and picked up all our donations for a future yardsale.That was a big help since our garage is filled with Taylor’s boxes. 

Our small group started a book we had decided to read together before all of this. It is called Dangerous Prayers by Craig Groeschel.  We are still meeting virtually so I’m hoping this book will help all of us in our prayer lives right now.  It’s hard to believe that Easter isn’t going to be our traditional get together and celebration at church. I am cooking a meal and dropping it off to my mom on Easter Sunday.  I ordered her a birdhouse and birdseed. She has really enjoyed watching the birds and occasional squirrel visit her feeder. 

As far as when we will be able to return back to normal....who really even knows. If I had to make a guess it would be September but no one really knows.  Everything keeps getting extended farther and farther.  As of right now, I don’t see us being able to go to Jamaica in July.  Even if we could, there is so much unknown about how we will ever be able to return to normal.  I haven’t left the house since 3/31.  It still all doesn’t seem real.

The one thing I have said numerous times this week is HOPE is not cancelled.  None of this took God by surprise and I truly believe there will be a TON of good come out of this despite the deaths. I am holding on to his promises and I know He is going to be exalted throughout the world and many are going to come to know Him during this trial. He is good even when this doesn’t look so good.  I am thankful for each day He gives me to prove myself faithful. That is what is getting me through.

Blessings.

#pandemic #quarantine #hope #coronavirus #covid2019 #easter