Congratulations 🎉 500 followers is amazing!! Lots of people out there with good taste 😉
My prompt:
2205
Catherine
Backyard of the Austin farmhouse
Into the Mystic
okay gonna be honest here. i have no idea what happened here. like, i really adore what i wrote, but i have NO EARTHLY IDEA where it came from or if it's even at all close to what you were aiming for. lots of catherine/arthur feels ahead and like, a little magical realism? i guess? anyway here's wonderwall...
read the rest of the ficlets here
❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙
10:05pm, texas farmhouse
It’s odd, really, that an ocean and half a continent away from their shared home, that Arthur’s spirit feels so strong here. Here, in Henry and Alex’s backyard, deep in the heart of Texas.
The boys—they’re still boys, no matter that they’re closer to forty than thirty—are inside, cleaning dishes, rinsing out bottles. Catherine can see them through the window above the sink, laughing and chatting easily before Alex flicks water in her son’s face. The affronted look on Henry’s face sends her right down memory lane, a slideshow of the dozens of times she and Arthur did the same thing playing in her mind.
It took a while, a shove from Bea, and a lot of therapy, but the memories no longer hurt her, no longer make her feel like her soul is being ripped away every time she thinks about her husband. Now, after everything, she can let the memories pass through like a draft through windchimes; she might get knocked around, but what sweet melodies they make.
A cool breeze makes Catherine pull the quilt Alex draped over her earlier closer around her shoulders and she looks out over the dark backyard. The only light is from the stars, the crescent moon, the dying embers, and the occasional lightning bug. Catherine inhales deeply, breathing in the smell of the earth, of burning wood, of the lingering scent of the beer that Alex knocked off the picnic table earlier. The sound of crickets chirping is accompanied by grass rustling in the breeze and the quiet pops of the fire. It’s peaceful here, in this place where there’s more sky than anything else—a sky big enough for dreams and memories alike.
Arthur would have loved it here. He would have been first in line to learn how to work the grill from Alex. He would have laughed easily at their son’s carefree antics. He would have been their biggest supporter in buying this place. Catherine knows that their siblings were confused, Alex’s parents were a little more understanding, but Arthur— Arthur would have seen the house for what it is: a sanctuary, a place to recharge, a place where they can truly be themselves, stripped of the pressures of both royalty and politics.
She knows that they chose Texas for Alex, but the feel of the place has more than a little to do with Henry; Catherine finds echoes of the cottage in Wales around every corner. The farmhouse is a monument to the love they have for each other and to their families. The house is so full of affection and care that one could almost taste them, almost trip over them on the way to the kettle.
Another breeze sweeps through the yard and Catherine shivers, but not from the chill this time. She can feel something—someone—here with her now. She gets a whiff of Arthur’s cologne, a faint trace of pine and leather that always made her feel safe. She holds her breath, and she can faintly hear Arthur’s laugh, bright and full, over the sound of her heartbeat. Impossibly, she feels the weight of an arm across her shoulders, tucking her close into the faded imprint of a warm chest.
The back door opens and the boys’ chatter spills out along with the kitchen light. Their presence breaks the spell the night was weaving around her, but between more jokes and reminiscing, between dessert and a cup of decaf, Catherine feels ghostly fingers slip between her own, and hold tight.
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First sentence ask - I feel like there could be a lot of errors, misunderstandings and mistakes.
“I feel like there could be a lot of errors, misunderstandings, and mistakes.”
Alex’s grin only widens as Henry’s objections pile up. He’d been joking, mostly, when he suggested it, but now he’s in it till the bitter end. It’s who he is as a person, and honestly, Henry should know that by now; it’s his own fault.
“I’m well aware The Crown isn’t a documentary, sweetheart. Hit play.”
[Send me an ask with the first sentence of a fic and I’ll write you the next five.]
19. imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?
im not very good at doing other peoples nails but id give it a shot. i am really good at doing my own nails though, fun fact about me.
24. if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?
probably looking at the view. right now probably shivering because its kind of cold where i am and so i would be complaining and wanting to go inside HAHA
Peeta has to get glasses. That's it, thats the whole prompt lol.
(this is so cute! @bethpeaches123 functional Mellark family is being served up sooner than expected)
Katniss sips contentedly on her lemonade, feet swinging under the round table in the Mellarks’ sunny breakfast nook. Beside her, her best friend, Peeta is chewing pensively on his grilled cheese.
Peeta’s two older brothers, Bannock, who is very cool in the eyes of the younger children as an eighth grader, and Ry, who is less cool as a sixth grader, sit with them, enjoying the small feast Peeta’s mother set out before going to run her errands.
Bannock’s hand gropes vaguely for a strawberry as his eyes remain on his book, and Ry is engrossed in playing on his Nintendo Switch. Peeta, however, looks upset about something.
“What?”
“Mama went to get my prescription,” he sighs. “I have to start wearing my glasses today.”
Katniss wrinkles her nose in confusion. “But that’s a good thing. You can see the whiteboard in class now.”
“Ry says the kids will tease me for having them,” Peeta sighs.
Katniss frowns at Ry, then wads up her napkin and throws it at him. “Hey! What was that about, Niss?” Ry gripes at her.
“Don’t yell,” Bannock says, absently even-keel.
“Don’t tease Peeta,” she says. “And Peeta,” she adds, “I think you’re going to look wonderful in glasses. And if kids tease you,” (she throws another napkin at Ry), “I’ll handle them.”
And Peeta laughs as Ry sticks his tongue out at the pair of them.
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Katniss wiped her eyes quickly as her friend, Peeta, joined her on the back porch of the reception hall.
She gave him a weak smile before turning to look out at the dark, frigid field in front of them. They were on the cusp of winter and she could already smell the beginning of the frost that would soon overtake District 12.
“I didn’t think anyone noticed,” she replied hoarsely.
Peeta bumped his arm against hers good-naturedly, smiling gently at the frowning girl.
“How could you not notice the prettiest girl in District 12 leaving the party?”
“Well, Gale didn’t notice,” Katniss responded disheartened. “He was too busy eyeing Madge in that fancy white dress of hers.”
Her gaze went to the blue hand-me-down dress she wore. Her mother had spent a whole week working on it, changing the buttons, taking the skirt up and the waist, and adding a lace collar so she would have something decent to wear for their graduation formal.
It was all for naught, he would never see her as anything more than a friend.
“Ridiculous,” Peeta muttered, his blue eyes looking over her. “How could he not see you? The way this blue of this dress brings out your eyes…or how your long your legs are…or how the collar shows off that elegant line of your neck—”
Katniss could feel the heat fill her cheeks and suddenly the hurt of Gale’s lack of attention dissipated.
Instead, there was nothing else, but her, Peeta, and the eve of a winter night.
She smiled at him, trying to quell the stuttering in her chest and the feeling of warmth from his words embracing her.
“You always do that. You always warm me up.”
“And I’m going to keep warming your up,” Peeta promised.
She raised a brow. “Until?”
“Until you notice me,” he replied, his voice soft and low.
“What do you mean?”
Peeta inched closer, their sides now pressing, and she could feel the nervous heat emanating between them.
“You’ve been so caught up in Gale, trying to get him to see you as more, that you never notice that there are some people that think of you as…everything.”
Katniss swallowed shallowly, the warmth turning to a molten heat. “Really?”
Peeta smiled, his blue eyes full. “Really.” His hand reached to the ends of her raven hair.
“I like your hair down.” His gaze was reverent as he looked her over—as if he were trying to memorize every line…every curve of her face. “You always wear it in a braid. It’s the first thing I looked for whenever I came to class.”
Her mouth rose. “Peeta—”
Then his lips were on her, full and steady.
A hand reach to cradle the back of her head and she sighed at the feeling of being wanted…maybe even loved. She melted against his chest, her arms reaching around to wrap around him, drawing him closer to feel his heart against hers.
As soon as they started, they pulled apart, puffs of warm breath between them.
Their eyes met and they grinned.
“I noticed,” Katniss told him breathlessly. “I see you, Peeta.”
“After a kiss like that, I hope you did!” She laughed in response and his eyes warmed. “Should we go back in?”
Katniss shook her head.
“They won’t even notice we’re gone.” She stood up, holding out her hand. “Walk me home?”
Peeta stood, removing his jacket, and placing it over her shoulders, before taking her hand.
“Let’s take the long way,” he suggested.
Katniss nodded in agreement, not worried about the cold.
I am late this year. As of Monday I've been following you for 6 years. Thank you so much for all of the great fic, book recommendations and mostly being a great friend ❤
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!!!! Thank you so muuuuch!!!
I love you so much because you're always so great and supportive and I always know I will get at least one reply to any story <3 Thank you for following me for so long!!!
Prompt: this bag said it would keep my food cold for 3 hours, it lied.
Thanks for the prompt, friend! I hope you like it. It was a lot of fun to write! :D
Can be read on Ao3: x
Katniss and the No Good, Lousy Rotten Day
Katniss was having a no good, lousy rotten day and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed with three bottles of wine and pretend that she didn’t get chewed out in front of her whole department and had her budget threatened. That her car didn’t die in the left-hand turn lane on the busiest intersection in town. And that she most definitely didn’t catch her no good, lousy rotten boyfriend cheating on her in the supply closet with one of the interns. Nope. None of it happened. Today was fine.
“Rough day?” Peeta asked when she limped in through the door, her hair disheveled and her pants soaked because—oh yeah, she fell in a puddle when her heel broke stepping out of her Lyft, twisting her ankle in the process. Such a great day all around.
Grunting, Katniss hobbled over to the kitchen table, the closest piece of furniture near her, and collapsed into a chair. Her ankle throbbed. Her ass was sore and wet. But most hurt was her pride. It had taken a beating like no other today.
No good, lousy rotten day.
“Rough day?” Peeta asked again from the couch, watching TV. From the sounds of it, he was watching some cooking challenge show. She threw her broken shoe at him because he sounded way too smug for someone who clearly had eyes. To make her day even worse, she missed him by a lot and hit the sole lamp in their living room, causing it to fall off the side table and crack in half. “Waita go, Everdeen,” he chuckled, shaking his head. She groaned in darkness now, the only light now coming from their TV. She couldn’t even aim right today, her one natural gift gone. Destroyed by the day’s shittiness.
No good, lousy rotten day.
Peeta patted the spot next to him on the couch, his smile welcoming under the TV’s light. She considered hobbling off to her bed and telling him not to disturb her, but she really needed her best friend’s comfort after this hellhole day. His arms were open and she hobbled right into them, resting her head on his shoulder, his hand rubbing circles up and down her arm, like he always did when holding her like this. Her eyes closed at the touch, his hand bringing on a familiar warmth only Peeta seemed to emulate. He didn’t ask why she was wet or why she threw a shoe at him. Years of friendship didn’t require instant explanation. He knew she’d spill once she had calmed down enough to explain without getting super worked up again. Sometimes that took minutes, other times hours, but she always told him everything eventually.
She was so lucky to have him here.
They sat together in darkness, their bodies pressed together as they watched TV. Katniss was right. He was watching a cooking show. It wasn’t the type of thing she’d pick for herself to watch, but watching Peeta watch it was something else entirely. He always denied doing it, but he liked to list back the recipes the contestants spoke of, like saying them aloud will help him commit it to memory, and critique certain techniques he didn’t agree with. Peeta was an intense Food TV junkie and it amused her to no end how seriously he took it.
Tonight as he parroted back the recipes, she focused on the way his deep voice reverberated, the way his free hand would motion to the TV in exasperation because a contestant thought it wise to use the microwave instead of setting a low flame. Her arms tightened around him, content. Nothing was better than familiarity on a no good, lousy rotten day and next to her family, she knew Peeta best. He was a constant in her life and she was so grateful for it. At least some men could be depended on.
The show switched to commercials and he looked down at her at last, his eyes asking if she’s ready to talk.
She was.
Katniss extracted herself from his embrace, a bit reluctantly because her damp clothes caused a chill and Peeta was her infinite amount of warmth. “Why waste money on a heater when I have a Peeta?” she used to tease in college when they were living together in the world’s shittiest apartment, barely scraping by. Everything used to break down and both their families were tight on money to just loan out a couple hundred for repairs. They had to make do with what they had and most times in the winter, it meant huddling together in the same sleeping bag for warmth.
“So today…” Peeta started for her, twirling a bit of her braid around his fingers.
“...was the shittiest of shitty days to have ever shitted,” she finished sourly, always one with her words.
His eyebrows knit together in concern, a frown tugging at his lips. His silent concern was enough to break the dam and she went on to explain how both Snow and Coin chewed her out in front of the whole department, questioning if she was even qualified to lead a group of its size. Then when she tried defending her reasoning, they casually mentioned budget restraints and perhaps cuts would have to be made for next fiscal year in order for the company to stay afloat.
“And then my car died at Six Corner on my way back from their office,” Katniss continued, feeling more lousy as she went on. “I know you kept telling me it was a death trap on wheels and that I should have gotten a new car years ago, but please don’t tell me ‘I told you so’ because I don’t think I can handle that right now.” At this point, Peeta had retrieved her emergency stash of Ben & Jerry from the freezer and she was stuffing her face into the double-chocolate brownie goodness with agusto.
“It was the worst,” she continued, mouth full of ice cream. “All these cars were blaring at me and flipping me the bird, like I purposely let my car die in the left-hand turn lane! Don’t say anything!” she snapped, pressing a sticky finger to his lips. His eyes widened at the touch, but he remained the good listener he always was, letting her blow off steam and stuff her sorrows with ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream.
“But that’s not even the worst of it,” she sighed, blowing at her bangs that desperately needed a trim. “Cato cheated on me.” It was hard looking at him for that. Peeta warned her from day one not to get involved with Cato, saying he wreaked of sleazebag and booze, but she just shrugged his concerns off, wanting something entirely different from her failed relationship with Gale, and she was far too into the crazy sex they had to pull the plug. Cato was the rebound mistake she let linger for too long. And now she got hurt because of her own stubborn stupidity.
“Katniss, I’m so sorry.” Much to her relief, it sounded like he truly meant it. His deep voice didn’t seem to carry any contempt toward her and he reached over for a hug, pulling her close. Her arms instinctively wrapped around him, her face pressing into the crook of his neck. Peeta gave the best hugs. His warm, strong arms easily encased her, reminding her of being wrapped in a really soft blanket, and he always smelled faintly of foods—sweet sugars or savory spices, it didn’t matter. He always smelled of it and she loved that about him. A little taste of home.
His large hand rubbed circles on her back now, not saying anything else as she sat there in his arms, the cold from the ice cream container numbing her still damp pants. They sat like that for a while, his TV show returning and ending. Another episode started up, but Peeta didn’t push her away. He never did. Even when she dug her own grave, Peeta was climbing in next to her, offering a hand of support.
“It’s stupid,” she mumbled dejectedly into his shoulder, his shirt soft against her cheek. “I knew he was a jerk, but I didn’t think I’d care this much, you know? Why do I care this much?”
“I think we naturally expect the good from people,” he said quietly, still rubbing her back. “It sucks when we’re proven wrong about them.”
Maybe he was right. Maybe she subconsciously expected Cato to be a semi-decent guy and not cheat on her. Was the bar really that low for her now? She tucked her head back into his neck, needing another moment of this before facing the reality that yeah, her standards in the past few years have really gone down.
“Hey, Katniss?” he asked after sitting like this for a while.
“Hm?”
“Can we move your ice cream? I’m all here for your sweet fix and hugs, but it’s getting a bit cold down there.” And in true Peeta Mellark fashion, he was able to get her to laugh on one of the worst days she’s seen since moving back after her bad breakup with Gale. Teasing if he wanted her heating pad to warm him back up, she moved the melting ice cream on the coffee table and smiled at him.
She was so lucky having him in her life. He’d been such a constant in her life, always caring about what was going on, offering his advice where he could. She’d done a lot of shitty things in the past, some even toward him, but Peeta never held it against her. Even when she rightfully deserved his anger, he was still there. After all these years. Ready to lend a helping hand.
This was why she loved him.
Wait, what? Her eyes widened in surprise. The thought had come so quickly, but it felt natural to think. Like it’d been sitting there, deep in her head, for a while. Of course she loved him. He was her best friend! She’d told him “I love you” countless times over the years, most being when she had food coming her way, but this felt different, staring at his white bluish face. This felt like the other love. That love. The one she remembered feeling with Gale and before him, Thom.
She chewed at her thumbnail, her eyes darting away.
This was bad. Really bad. This was how her and Gale had started and that went south fast. They weren’t friends anymore, the breakup was so bad. If something like that happened to her and Peeta… She wouldn’t know what she’d do without him. Without his kind words and affectionate gestures. The idea was hard to swallow.
“Feeling better?” he asked, smiling a little, unbeknownst to the world shaking revelation happening in her head. His hand squeezed hers in good spirit.
Katniss looked at how his hand rested over hers, her tiny fingers peeking out. Her pulse quickened. Like the dam he helped open earlier, it felt like something else had broken inside her, flooding her with emotions she didn’t even realize she’d been feeling. His hand felt so nice resting over hers like that, and a small part of her wished he’d take it and press his lips to it. Like the gentlemen did in those silly period dramas he was always having her watch when it was his turn to pick a movie out. Would he be weirded out if she did that to him? Just picked up his hand and kissed it?
Stop it! her mind screamed, resisting any urges of kissing her chapped lips over his hands. Friends are off limits. These things never end well.
“Katniss?” he asked, that concern back in his voice and—okay, yeah. He really needed to stop talking so she could process this flood of emotions.
“Hmmm?” She looked up at him, her eyes still wide.
“Are you feeling better? Do you want me to order a pizza? I’ll even order your nasty pineapple pizza, if that will cheer you up.” God, could he please stop? He never let her put pineapple on their shared pizza unless she really needed the pick-me-up. He really was too much.
“Mhm,” she smiled a bit too brightly. “Sounds good. Love pizza. You know how pizza makes me horny—I mean happy! Pizza makes me happy!” Now he was looking at her like she’d grown another head. “Pineapple pizza is perfect, Peeta,” she breathed. “Thank you.”
He still looked at her strangely, but shook his head in amusement at her weirdness and shoved at her playfully before getting up to go order the pizza.
“Mind if I talk about the betrayal I felt today?” he asked from the kitchen, the sounds of drawers opening as he looked for a pizza coupon.
“Bold word to use on a girl who found her boyfriend in the supply closet with the barely legal intern,” she said, her voice sounding high-pitched. “Can it top that?”
“Absolutely.” His head popped out from the small service window dividing the kitchen from the living room, his phone pressed to his ear. “This bag”—He held up a purple lunch bag she recognized from his many online purchases—“said it would keep my food cold for three hours. It lied. It wasn’t even two hours and my smoothie felt like it’d been baking in the car. You can bet I gave them a strongly worded review and—hi! Yes, I’m calling to place an order.” He smiled that charming smile he always wore whenever they went out to eat somewhere, despite being on the phone, and god. She knew he was handsome, but how had she not noticed the dimples in his round stupid face before?
Katniss leaned forward on the couch, her hands pressed to her forehead, and groaned. She was totally screwed.
