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Praise to the mods and writers of @everlarkbirthdaygifts
@que-sera-sera88 even though she has moved on, thank you!
@ally147writes
@justajjfan
@booksrockmyface
@historywriter2007
@mega-aulover
If I missed anyone I truly apologize but know that I appreciate everyone’s efforts to provide Everlark birthday treats for all! We are so lucky to have a group committed to spoiling the fandom.
I’d love to see you write this for Everlark: My friend dragged me to this party and I just saw my ex quick make out with me. :)
Thank you @que-sera-sera88! Hope you like it! I needed a little refresher…
———
“Where is everybody?” My roommate Johanna shouts into my earover the blasting techno music. “And, why is it so crowded in here?”
Capitol is our local bar and a walking distance from our condo.We’re often here on Friday nights to celebrate the end of our respective work shifts.Johanna is the CFO of a new startup in SOMA (South of Market) while I work for GuestServices at the Conservatory of Flowers in Golden Gate Park.
As you can tell, our financial brackets are very different.
However, Johanna never blinked an eye when I showed up ather doorstep one year ago on a foggy Saturday morning in tears—and in mypajamas.
“Jesus Katniss…what are you wearing?” she asks as she helpsme out of my jacket.
I look down at my fitted black trousers and rust orange t-shirt.“It’s what I wore to work!”
Johanna sighs, her sharp eyes looking me over inexasperation.
“You look like your vagina is impenetrable.”
“I do not!” Yes, maybe the shirt could be a littlesexier…but I was just here for a beer. “And, what the hell am I supposed to doanyway? I’m not walking back home.”
“Must I do everything?”
She yanks me by the hand towards the back of the bar to the women’srestroom. Pushing through the door, we go to the full-length mirror in theback. Around us, women are going in and coming out of the stalls. Others areapplying makeup in front of the sink mirrors.
“Take off your bra,” Johanna suddenly says.
I cup my miniscule breasts protectively. “No!”
“You have very little tit and the bit you do have is coveredin this uniboob bra,” my friend responds. Without warning, she reaches under myshirt and unhooks it quickly. There’s a struggle and somehow, she triumphs inthe end as my cotton bra is suddenly in her hands. “Holy shit—what the hell isthis?”
“It’s a bra!”
“No, this is a joke.” Somewhere behind me, someone snorts ather words. “How the hell am I supposed to introduce you to anyone in this?”
Discarding my bra into a nearby trash bin, Johanna puts herhands on my shoulders.
“Don’t hide away. You’ve been mourning too long.”
With a weary sigh, I give in. “Alright, do what you have todo.”
Johanna smiles, giving me a quick hug before she pulls awayto examine me. “The shirt…” Her index finger goes to her chin. “I got it!” Shegathers the fabric so it’s tight against my body and then knots the excessfabric so my shirt is now cropped. Then she kneels to bring the hem of my pantsto my ankles. “Now what?”
“Her hair, honey.”
We look behind us to see a woman who has just finishedputting on her lipstick staring at us. She is all long legs, Ruby Woo red lips,and big hair.
“Undo the braid,” she suggests. “I’m a hair stylist—my salonis between Sutter and Post.” The woman gives us a pretty smile. “I’m Portia.”Reaching, she takes the elastic from the tip of my braid and unravels my darkhair. “Very nice…good texture…”
Portia makes quick work of my hair, smoothing it in one spotthen reaching into her bag for a comb to tease some other parst. When I’mfinished, I am looking at a stranger in the mirror with pretty face-framingwaves.
“Thanks Portia,” I tell her appreciatively. “It’s been along time since anyone has even noticed my hair.”
“She was in a bad spot last year,” Johanna tells her.“Boyfriend left her…for his assistant.”
“Well, you know what?” Portia smiles at me. “It’s hisloss…and I have a feeling tonight is going to be special.”
++++++
Johanna looks at the screen of her cell. “Running late? Dothey have no sense of time?”
I nurse my glass of whiskey against the bar. “Who?”
“Some family from Berkeley.” She quickly types back.“They’re running into traffic on the bridge.”
“Excuse me?” We turn to see a very good-looking hipster—hehas horn-rimmed glasses and very tight jeans—offering his hand to Johanna. “Doyou want to dance?”
She grins and looks to me in question.
I push her towards him. “Go on! I’ll be right here when youget back.”
“I won’t be long…”
However, by the look of lust in my friend’s eyes, I have afeeling that I’ll be needing to wear headphones when I get back home.
I don’t mind though.
Johanna has been really good to me. I met her during aninternship with her former company. We’re both Bay Area natives—a raritynow—and bonded over our love for sushi burritos and movie singalongs at theCastro Theater.
That was years ago.
Johanna has made strides in her career and can afford theastronomical San Francisco rent.
I’m just her thirty-year-old roommate who spends her days ina humid greenhouse telling people not to touch the flowers.
“I like your necklace.”
I follow the deep timbre and my eyes turn to the dirty-blond,blue-eyed man suddenly next to me. My gaze wanders from his gorgeous face, downhis fitted white tee displaying washboard abs, past the jeans—oh God, don’t look at his crotch—andfinally to the leather oxfords.
“What?” I manage to push out.
He reaches over to the pendant pressed against my shirt,fingering it gently. “Primrose.”
My mouth widens into a smile. “How did you know?”
“I worked as a gardener when I was in college,” he explains.The man smiles at me. “Why this flower?”
“My sister’s name,” I explain.
“That’s different,” the man replies and snorts. “My nameisn’t any better.” He holds his hand out. “I’m Peeta, by the way.”
I shake his hand, ignoring the warm current rushing throughmy skin. “Katniss.” I look around for Johanna, who has somehow disappeared withthe hipster. “What brings you here?”
“Meeting someone for a little reunion,” he tells me. “I’vebeen in London for two years.”
“London?” That bit of wanderlust grips me. I’ve never beenanywhere—too timid to leave my hometown. “And, what did you do there?”
“International relations, of sorts,” Peeta says. “I’m amusic producer and the artists that I’ve been working with were from the UK.”
I nod. “Impressive.”
Looking around, I spot Johanna in a far corner of the packedbar, her arms around Hipster Boy with his glasses perched atop her head.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck prickle and myeyes go to a couple just a few feet away from her.
The dark-haired man wears a fitted flannel shirt and I fist myhands remembering that I had picked out that very flannel shirt for him yearsago. Next to him in a black body-con dress that I would never wear and a body Iwould never ever have was the golden beauty he left me for.
Of all places, why did Gale have to be in this bar?
“Please don’t look this way,” I mutter under my breath.
There must be someone up there who hates me because I seehis perfectly-coiffed head begin to turn my way—
“Peeta, I know that this is completely out of left field,but my ex is here with the woman he left me for and I just can’t let him see me.So…if it’s not too weird…would you make out with me?”
Peeta chuckles softly—probably at my flaming-hot face—beforepulling me flush against his oh-so-tight body and cupping my cheek with hisfree hand.
“Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me—”His mouth presses fully onto mine and I taste whiskey—his or mine, I have noidea—against my tongue. He suddenly pulls away, his forehead against mine. “—anytimeyou feel like it.”
My mind is blank, still reliving the feel of his lips onmine and the taste of him. There’s a flux of heat rushing through my body andpooling in my center. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything—or anyone—morethan I want the stranger in front of me.
“Again,” I manage to breathe out.
Peeta smirks—and somehow, he’s gotten even hotter. “Is yourex still watching us?”
“Who?”
He’s totally mindfucked me.
“Nevermind.” We’re pressed between barstools and the frictionis killing me. Peeta deeps into my mouth for another kiss and I’m a goner. Myarms are around him, my nails gripping the back of his shirt as we grindagainst one another.
Someone behind me tells the bartender to hose us down.
However, it all becomes a haze when Peeta’s hand weavesthrough my hair to deepen our kiss.
“HEY!” We reluctantly rip our mouths apart to glare at thebartender. “I don’t care if you hump your brains out but if you’re going to doit here then you best buy a drink!” He waves his hand at the crowd. “There areother people willing to take your spots.”
I meet Peeta’s eyes. “My place is a few blocks away.”
“Really?” Peeta grins. “I do have to meet someone here—”
“Katniss!” Johanna is rushing towards me sans Hipster Boy.Her eyes go to Peeta and she squeals before pulling him into hug. “Peeta, youmade it!” She ruffles his hair affectionately. “It’s been too long!”
“Too damn long!” Peeta agrees. “Cinna is outside, probablyon his fifth cigarette.” He looks around. “I thought you were bringing yourroommate?”
Johanna looks to me. “She’s right here!”
Peeta meets my eyes and I can see he’s trying to keep ittogether.
“Remember I told you that my mom remarried when I was incollege?” Johanna explains. “Well, I got a little brother out of it.”
My mouth goes dry. “Little brother?”
From what I felt, there is nothing little about Peeta.
“Stepbrother, actually,” my friend says, oblivious to thefact that I can no longer feel my face. “This is him. Katniss, this is mybrother Peeta. Peeta, this is my roommate Katniss.”
Peeta raises a brow before holding out his hand for me toshake. “Nice to meet you.”
I take his hand, suppressing my need to bring it between mylegs. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“He’s going to be bunking on our couch,” Johanna informs me.“Until he finds a place of his own, of course.”
Peeta gives me a smirk, his blue eyes heated as he looks atme. “Hope it’s okay for me to stay over.”
Stay forever.
I meet his stare. “Of course. Let me know if you needanything.”
“I will,” he responds.
There’s a shout and Johanna is pulled away by a coworker whojust entered the bar.
Peeta leans over, his mouth to my ear. “After all—” He nipsmy ear and I clench…everywhere. “—you owe me.”
“Love is not loveÂ
Which alters when it alteration finds,Â
Or bends with the remover to remove.Â
O no! it is an ever-fixed markÂ
That looks on tempests and is never shaken.”
Everlark - Instant Family inspired where they end up deciding to foster a child but end up with three children.
Thanks for the prompt, @que-sera-sera88!
Everlark Fic Exchange. Prompt 123
Inspired by this prompt? Tell us about it. If it’s still available you can use it to create a fan work (fic or art) and submit it to @everlarkficexchange (Finished works will be posted from March 24 to April 7).
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Just read your tags on the post you reblogged from me and MAN I can relate to that feeling so well! There are so many things I want to do but I don’t because I get so anxious about doing it well and perfectly that I just avoid it. Then I get anxious because I’m anxious and it’s a never ending circle lol.
SERIOUSLY. If you tuned into my brain at any given point, my last three brain cells would look a little something like-
Hey there! I really love the edit of Katie McGrath you posted on the 3rd of Feb. I've never seen those photo shoot pics and wondered where you got them from? Thanks :)
