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ddarker-dreams · 2 years

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Lock, idk if you ever answer this question but what do you think God!darling story quest is ?

OH so like from the traveler's point of view?? interesting, i never considered this until you mentioned it. i gave it some thought and came up with an idea i actually like a lot. to give a rough rundown of how i'd want their story quest to go, i imagine it'd be something like this.

traveler and paimon walking the roads of liyue harbor, overseeing god darling in the distance talking to some shady looking individuals. paimon does that fun paimon thing where she tells her minion (the traveler) what to do and they both go to check in on god darling. the merchants are claiming that they found a domain belonging to vephar/the god of sand and are offering tours at an absurdly high price to gullible individuals. maybe the price is like 100 million mora.

paimon, snickering to traveler: ohh, if only these poor saps knew who they were negotiating with, there's no way [first] is gonna fall for tha—

[first]: agreed. when are you prepared to depart?

paimon and traveler: ??????????????????

they both then approach god darling and try to talk them out of it. this is a scam! anyone could see that! god darling reassures the two and says they want to see this domain with their own eyes. god darling pays the fee by giving them their pearl earrings, boasting perfect luster and condition.

god darling is off to yaoguang shoal with the shady merchants.

paimon and traveler are worried about this development, so they decide to alert zhongli. they find him dining at wanmin restaurant and paimon gets all panicked, saying that god darling needs their help, and it's an emergency. zhongli's pupils shrink into draconic slits and asks for them to elaborate. traveler explains while paimon catches her breath and zhongli is like. oh. nvm. sits back down and starts sipping on his tea. once again, paimon and traveler are ??????????

zhongli: i don't wish to be ignored for a decade again, so i'll let them do as they please.

paimon: ignored... for a decade...? what kind of disagreement caused that?

zhongli: i suggested commissioning a statue of our exuvia forms together and sitting it in the center of liyue harbor.

paimon: venti was right about you both, what kind of sham relationship do you have? i thought he was exaggerating too...

zhongli says that if they're really worried about god darling, he'll tag along, but they have to say it was their idea. god darling could never get angry at traveler and their floating companion. the trio head out to yaoguang shoal, using elemental vision to track down god darling's footprints. they follow up to the spot the footprints disappear, spotting xiao in the distance. xiao had been observing the unfolding scene and says the group disappeared in a glow of light, but he doesn't sense god darling to be in any peril.

the three stooges (zhongli, paimon, and traveler) then end up solving a puzzle to get inside the domain. maybe something like different hourglasses are filled with certain amounts of sand, and the traveler needs to flip them over so they all empty into the bottom at the same time? idk, i don't design puzzles. anyway. domain opens and lets them in. zhongli hums, confirming that this does indeed have the aura of god darling running through it.

cue typical domain stuff. fighting some treasure hoarders or w/e. trap or two. you know the drill. they get to the end of the domain and see god darling being hassled by the merchants for more of their jewelry. merchant tries to take a sea glass necklace that one of god darling's people made for them thousands of years ago, god darling just kinda slowly looks over at them with the bottom of their hair resonating with geo. zhongli raises up his arms and puts a shield around paimon/traveler & those merchants.

even though they're all sealed underground, a hellacious gust of wind forms from where god darling stands. grains of sand intertwine with the relentless gale. merchants are blown away in the carnage. the winds die down. god darling thanks zhongli for protecting paimon + the traveler and apologizes for losing themselves, reassuring that they didn't kill the merchants. they're just knocked out cold. KO.

the sandstorm they kicked up broke through the walls of their old domain, revealing some old mural. it shows a silhouette of god darling's arms on either side of how yaoguang shoal looked 4,000 years prior, with tiny individuals representing their people along the shoreline present. the atmosphere takes a heavy turn as god darling fixates on the art and goes silent. paimon attempts to speak, but zhongli shakes his head, so she remains quiet.

zhongli encourages the group to head out early to give god darling time to think so they all head out. xiao, who is still waiting outside the domain, says that he's surprised to see paimon and traveler in one piece and should count themselves fortunate for having zhongli present. god darling's sandstorms could gradually tear the flesh of those caught within the carnage straight from the bone. zhongli sighs dreamily.

traveler asks zhongli what that mural was all about. cue some monologue where he purposefully omits certain details of god darling's past. traveler picks up on this and just kinda stares at zhongli while paimon starts sniffling over how sad it is that vephar lost their people during the archon war, but is glad zhongli was there to protect them from meeting the same fate.

traveler gets anime style flashback of dainsleif's, "Always be on your guard when around gods."

god darling catches up with the squad and apologizes once again for almost killing traveler by giving them their pearl earrings. (they snatched the earrings back from the merchants because they're petty like that).

"The people of Liyue believe that these pearls represent my will, and that where they find them, love will follow. Traveler, there are many kinds of love. Romantic, platonic... familial. I hope and pray for your success in reuniting with your sibling. For I know how painful early partings are."

quest ends with god darling overlooking yaoguang shoal.

Achievement Unlocked: Venti Told You So!

#this is so dumb but i love it #yandere zhongli x reader #first contract #answered #Anonymous

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 3 years

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Happy Birthday, jbsaucy!

Happy belated Birthday, @jbsaucy! We hope you had a wonderful day back on the 16th, and that you celebrated in style! To bring your party back around, the lovely @mega-aulover has written a story just for you!

For this year, I am recently divorced and trying to get the nerve up to get out there. So I would like to request a 30/40s Everlark, post divorced meeting

Jbsaucy

Dear Jbsaucy I hope you had a wonderful birthday. I apologize for the lateness, and I hope you had a wonderful day. This prompt BTW was amazing and I had a great time writing it. It was a blast. Thank you to Norbertsmom for Betaing

Rated T

Title: OFF THE MARKET

-kpkpkpkp-

Divorce sucks. SUCKS.

Getting divorced sucks, being divorced sucked.

But nothing, not the tedious nature of dividing unwanted movies, the fear of root canals, or getting a speeding ticket, compared to dating. Dating, ladies and gentlemen, after being married for ten years sucked royally.

ROYALLY!

After my divorce, my attorney suggested I get a hobby or join a club. I really wasn’t a social person. Not much of a talker, and avoided any and all spotlights. It was this fear of the spotlight that originally brought me in contact to my now ex-husband, Darius.

My best friend Gale pushed me to do one of those karaoke nights. I panicked and ran straight into Darius. He thought I was cute, and I was grateful he went up with me to the karaoke microphone. He sang and I laughed. The rest is history; the marriage only lasted ten years. But I knew we weren’t right for one another, partially because Darius was a very sexual person, for me sex wasn’t important. I got more enjoyment out of getting my teeth cleaned. He found someone who revved his engine and I got the fica and dates.

Yup Dates.

How did that happen you ask?

Well, I’ll tell you I followed my divorce attorney’s suggestion. Preface-OUTSIDE OF A COURTROOM NEVER EVER FOLLOW YOUR DIVORCE ATTORNEY’S ADVICE.

With that warning sign, I digress. Taking a deep breath, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Wait for it... I joined a book club.

It was the only natural course of action. After our divorce I got all of the books. You see one of the things Darius and I loved to do was go to bookstores. We’d buy all of these books with the intention of reading them, and we never did. We had bookshelves filled with books from the 100 Must-Read Classic Books by Penguin. So after my divorce, I sat in my newly minted apartment with a box of wine and all of these books.

I was looking at the boxes, my divorce papers jutting out. Amongst them there was a note - with the name of a book club, the real 451 book club, with an address. I called them the Squad 451 or the Squad. The women were a hodgepodge of personalities; the right blend of sweet and crazy. There is Mags, the motherly type. She has boatloads of grandchildren. Then there is her neighbor Greasy Sae who runs a diner in town. I used to go to her diner as a kid and consume her mystery meat soups. The older woman is bawdy and half of the things she says makes me blush redder than a red bean. Next is Annie, a shy, slightly mad girl who is a librarian. Delly has the personality of the southern bell who wears pink and believes in romance. I’ve known of Delly forever; she and I went to the same high school.

Foxface, has one of those names with multiple consonants and vowels but prefers to go by Foxy or Foxface. She is freakishly smart and sometimes, I think she has blackmarket dealings because she’s so secretive. Then there is Effie, the middle aged, tightly wound woman whose book choices are as repressed as she is, like Jane Eyre. And last, but not least, is my divorce lawyer, yes the very same one who suggested I get a hobby, Johanna Mason who is, well, a sex fiend.

I started meeting up with them, and six months after my divorce, that’s when the ladies conspired against me and set up my profile on one of those dating websites looking for men, for me. I had no idea, and on my birthday, they presented me with their “gift.”

It was the gift you didn’t want, like a pimple on your wedding day or the runs before an important interview, or bad breath before a first kiss.

Greasy said that if I didn’t use my, well, feminine - looks around - petals. That they’ll dry up and turn into ugly petunias. I announced sex wasn’t important, and even friged Effie said a lady needed to literally, figuratively, and metaphorically, occassionally let her hair down.

I said NO.

I demanded.

I scowled.

Nothing helped.

They created a profile based upon themselves, and yet through describing themselves they pegged me. I was nurturing. I had a sexy edge. I was introverted, and yet mysterious. I was smart, honest, loyal and a closet romantic. But if you tell anyone that, I’ll hunt you down, even after I’m dead.

They split me up like a kid of divorced parents being schlepped from one house to the other. They set themselves up in teams and each team got to pick my dates. And everytime we met for a book club meeting, I was to dutifully report on the date. Based upon their success, a second date would be permitted.

It was a simple proposition.

I was naive. A stupid idiot, or as Bugs Bunny say’s, a maroon.

Because I hadn’t really ever been out there.

To be honest, I met Darius right out of high school, at my first college party, and we were married - okay it wasn’t a big wedding. It really wasn’t a wedding at all. It was a spur of the moment, we got drunk and ended up at one of those Elvis chapel impersonators. Annnnd bada-bing.

I never really dated, so I agreed with the book club’s plan, because how hard could dating be?

And thus began my nightmare.

I must state, or emphatically note, not all of my “dates,” were catastrophically bad. To be fair, most of the time I wasn’t interested. Delly said I wasn’t romantically pulled. Johnna said my engine wasn’t revved up. Greasy said if the man didn’t make me want to orgasam with a look, then he wasn’t worth my time. I posed this question to the universe: How in blazing blue inferno does a man make a woman...well you know, with a look? Was that even possible?

A hazy yellow fuzz enters my head and my mind wanders. I conjure up blue eyes and translucent lashes that never tangle.

Sigh.

…. (my brain just short circuited at the thought of large hands)

Earth to Katniss.

Okay sorry, I spaced out for a little bit, and their words spurred me on to continue my journey. And one year after my divorcce I had stories, no I have battle scars. To prove my point, the following are my top three worst dates. In no particular order.

Date Disaster # 1 was with an artsy type at a chique Italian restaurant. He arrived late, and was drunk, high, or both. Then fell asleep on his plate of bolognese. Yup, in his plate of spaghetti and meat sauce. I paid for my half, tucked my tail between my legs and left.

Date Disaster #2 was with a small man with glasses and a massive intellect who didn’t stop talking about flamingos. FLAMING PINK FLAMINGOS. My brain shut down. I didn’t hear the music in the jazz themed restaurant. I didn’t even taste the heat in the gumbo. The only factoid I remembered when we said goodnight was that flamingos were gray when they were born. I couldn’t even tell you how they became pink. The man was the human form of anesthesia for my soul.

Date Disaster #3 was a nice man. We laughed. And everything was going well. We ordered drinks, a cranberry and soda for me, the bartender special for him while we waited for our table. Turns out he has a milk allergy and the bartender special had milk. When we sat down at the table and we were talking about our hobbies, his stomach began to grumble loudly. He became pasty and then as the waiter brought out our appetizers, he threw up all over the place. It was a good thing that throwing up didn't bother me, but it bothered our waiter who gagged. Needless to say, I burned the outfit I was wearing.

Those were the top three...but there were more, just simmering to become the top one. And for a time I thought I wasn’t made to date. But the ladies had faith and they were really trying to choose nice, interesting guys. However, nothing, nothing that I could ever imagine could top my latest date.

I’m rushing along the sidewalk. I don’t want to be late, but at the same time, I don’t want to tell them how much of a calamity my latest date was, but to be completely honest, I don’t want to miss it. Tonight is also the night the group meets at Mellark’s. The friendly cafe style bakery with its rich and yummy pastries, both savory and sweet. It is my favorite place to meet. Squad 451 meets twice a month in different locations, including one of the two meeting rooms in the library, one of the community rooms in the Justice Building, and on our birthdays, we meet in a restaurant, but the bakery on Main Street is our favorite location. The Mellarks owned several locations. The flagship store was always managed by one of the original family members.

If George Senior, or the middle son Ryan Mellark is at the helm of the bakery, they allow us to cavort in the shop until close. When his older brother George Junior or their Mother Muriel was in charge, we tended to be quiet, relegating our conversations to the books. When Peeta is in charge, there are free cheese buns and chaos.

Please, stomach gods, let Peeta be there. I skipped lunch today because I had a deadline. I also forgot my wallet at home. Thankfully, my license was at the bottom of my backpack. I need food before my stomach eats itself. I am starving when I walk into the bakery. When I see Peeta, I stop. His blue eyes meet mine and my stomach flip flops. He gives me a slow sweet smile, before his eyes slide back to the customer who is ordering.

“Katniss,” Delly squeaks, waving frantically.

Somehow, my feet carry me over to the table and there is a plate of cheese buns and I thank every celestial being in the universe. His buns are heavenly. Sitting down, I take a napkin and snatch one. My mouth waters and my lashes close as I bring the cheese bun to my mouth. The smell of melted cheese, fresh bread, and the hint of dill, assuage my nose, before I bite into one of Peeta’s coveted flaky concoctions. The combination of the oozing cheese, the herbs and the buttery bread elicit a moan from deep within my being. These freaking cheese buns will be the death of me.

“Wow.” Peeta’s voice causes my lashes to fly open.

Peeta is standing near me with a cup of tea; his face and neck splotchy and red.

My mouth is full of delicious food, but I forgot how to chew.

Delly is looking between us. Her pale blue eyes quizzical, like when she’s trying to understand a concept or theme in a book.

“Okay, bitches,” Johanna says, slamming her brief down. “Where’s the rest of the motley crew?”

“Mags and Greasy just arrived,” Delly answers absentmindedly.

“Hey, Peeta, I need a strong black coffee.”

“Sure,” Peeta says, all the while staring at me. I finally remember to chew. “Here Katniss, your tea.”

Taking the paper cup, I can’t help feeling bashful. “Thank you.”

“Peet,” the girl behind the counter calls.

Whenever Peeta is here, the business is brisk. He is charming. He was always charming, even back in high school he was the most popular guy, not only because of his looks, but because he was genuinely nice. I, like all of the other girls, had a mini crush on him.

Looking over his shoulder he says, “I’ll be right back with your coffee, Jo.”

Now Jo is looking between him and me, but hers is a wicked grin, like right before she nails a sleazebag who doesn’t want to pay for his children. I quirk an eyebrow, clueless as to what has Johanna showing off her predatory gleam.

“Oh, it’s chilly outside,” Mags says.

“It’s colder than Rudolph’s balls outside,” Greasy says, her gruff voice is booming. Several patrons look at her. Greasy does not care. She’s well past her sixties and it’s her motto that she should live each day as if it was her last.

In walks Effie, Annie, and Foxface, and they all say, “Hello,” in unison.

The book of the month is actually a YA fiction called, The Fault in Our Stars, about teens with a terminal illness. I cried when Gus...I tear up once more...at the memory. But I know we aren’t going to discuss Hazel’s predicament with her parents.

“So,” Delly says, bouncing in her chair.

I can’t help but grimace.

“How did it go?” Foxface says. She has an accent, but I can’t place it.

“He looked like he belonged on one of those erotic books Johanna loves to read,” Greasy says, grabbing a cheese bun.

She’s not wrong. Gloss was a blond adonis, with slate blue eyes. And abs that have a flipping twelve pack, I ought to know, I counted them. The words are out of my mouth before I am aware of what I am saying. “He really does with a twelve pack,” I say drinking my tea.

“Did you say twelve pack?” Johanna sat up.

My eyes widen.

“Wait, why are you blushing Katniss?” Foxface narrows her eyes.

“Did you and he…” Annie trails off. Her doe eyes are wide.

“Did you have your first sleepover?” Effie leaned in.

“Or did you dry hump him like a horny-toad dog?” Greasy’s voice bounces in the bakery.

Peeta’s pauses , wiping down the counter and looks directly at me.

“NO!” My voice sounds half strangled.

Jo and Delly exchange a look. “Peeta,” Delly calls him over.

Oh, no, no, no, I say to myself, eyeing how quickly I can get from the back corner to the exit. It is one thing to tell the squad, it is another to have Peeta know. I think I can sprint around the chairs and clear the table near the door like an olympic hurdle jumper.

Peet walks over. “Hey Dells, can I get you ladies anything?”

“Katniss was going to regale us with her latest date,” Delly says.

“She’s going to tell us how she knows her date has Thor’s body.”

“You’re dating?” Peeta asks, looking at me intently.

He doesn’t know I am dating or rather, being raked through hot coals.

“Oh,” Foxface chortles. “She’s dating.”

“Remember the guy who was texting with his mother during the entire date,” Effie said.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Mags saids grinning.

“Only the part when he had Katniss talk to her, and it turned out she was psychoanalyzing her to make sure she wasn’t an ax murderer,” Annie said laughing.

“Or what about the guy who kept on mentioning his ex and cried through the crème brûlée,” Greasy slaps her knee, laughing.

I can’t help but laugh.

“Man, those are pretty bad,” Peeta says.

I hold up my finger. “No, those are tame.”

“Tame?” His blue eyes are sparkling. “You mean there are worse dates?”

Delly snorts. “Oh there are worse. I am so glad I am out of the dating pool.”

“Yeah, Gale just loves you,” Annie sighs.

Delly and Gale met when I joined the book club. And while I floundered, they fell in love and now Delly was pregnant.

My eyes shift to Annie. “It’s so much easier when you fall in love.”

“Oh?” I say.

“I met someone,” Annie says softly. “He wants to meet all of us.”

I wonder what type of guy would date quiet, shy, introverted Annie who sometimes says things that remind me of that song from those Freddy movies from the 80’s. I shake my head. Then I narrow my eyes. “Bring him to the next session,” I hear myself say. I want to meet this man, and make sure he will take care of my friend.

“Really.” Annie clasps her hands.

I nod, but I notice Peeta is looking at me with this strange gleam in his eyes. “Ah...yeah.” My voice sounds breathy. I frown, wondering why the heck I sound like one of those girls. You know the ones that always appear in the music videos washing cars and dancing on super yachts. Darius was fascinated by those girls, heck, his new girlfriend looks like one of those girls.

The women are chatting with Annie about the new guy in her life.

“We'll discuss Annie’s beau later,” Mags holds her hand in the air. “I want to hear about Katniss’ date.” Her white hair spills over her shoulder as she fixes me with a look. “So tell us, how do you know Thor has a twelve pack?”

Somehow or another I knew the scrutiny on Annie would be short lived. My time to shine would come, but when I open my mouth to speak I can see a conspiratorial glance between Mags and Annie. And it hits me that they chose this man, because he looked like Thor. I scowl at the women who set me up on this one. Mags and Annie both have a pink tinge to their faces. I would have expected this from Jo or Greasy, but Mags and Annie, well it’s INCONCEIVABLE!

I begin to speak. “He asked me to meet him at the edge of town, near route twelve.”

“Isn't that where Ripper’s place is?” Effie questioned, and she couldn’t hide her revulsion.

“Yup,” I said, popping the ‘P’, thinking of the bar that disguised itself as an eatery. It was a seedy diner with cracked linoleum floors, yellowing formica, booths that had patches, blinking lights, and rickety chairs.

“That’s where he asked you to meet him?” Mag’s sounds outraged. “That place is…is-”

“- a bedhaven for unsavory characters,” Foxface finishes.

“You're brainless,” Jo mutters darkly. "Ripper's isn't the type of place you can go to Katniss. You should have called me."

As protective as I am about my friends, so is Jo. She's tough on the outside but has a really soft center. It's what makes her a perfect shark in the courtroom. Not that Darius was a jerk during our divorce. He actually wasn't. Johanna was present at the restaurant where he announced he wanted a divorce. Johanna later said it was my face, the vulnerability I tried to hide was why she took my divorce pro-bono.

“I drove and brought my bottle of mace.” I know what everyone was thinking. The area in town where Ripper’s is located at, made the bad side of town look like a tourist destination. I didn't mind meeting my date there. I was looking forward to a basket of fries. Ripper's had amazing beer-battered fries.

I've been to Ripper's once. I was with Gale and Thom who needed to score fake IDs. I ordered the fries, since I wasn't there for an ill gotten identification. But let me tell you, those fries. Oh! Holy mother of fries, no other fries can compare.

Shivers!

I love food; it's why I'm a food critic now. What's so funny is that it was those fries that began my career as Buttercup, the elusive food critic. Back then I was Buttercup, the fussy eater. I blogged about them, no, I lavished them with love. I love my job. I can go into any restaurant, order anything on the menu, blog about it and get paid handsomely. And, most importantly, I can do it anonymously. Not even Darius knew I was Buttercup. He thought I was a boring housewife. Getting back to the fries, I wasn’t deterred from getting my fries.

“So then what happened?” Annie asked.

“He was there waiting for me. He stood up and smiled. And he's massive-"

"Just like a book cover," Foxface mutters.

"He said his name wasn't Anthony, it’s Gloss.”

“Gloss?” Everyone said at the same time.

“Yup.” I sighed. “It was a sign. I should've left." Damn those fries!

“So Gloss…" Peeta's sparkling eyes are on mine, his are an amazing hue of blue, like the indigo milk cap mushrooms. "Looks like Thor." He frowns. "Thor with the long hair or short?"

"Long." The women around me answered as one.

Peeta turned those gorgeous eyes back to me.

Thor isn’t my cup of tea. I shrugged to show my indifference. "Gloss was sporting the Ragnarok look, short hair with facial hair."

I swear I watch Peeta mouth, "short hair."

"Anyway, we sat at a booth. It was packed, actually." That should've been clue number two. Men at a joint like Ripper's at 8:30 on a Friday night, it was by the highway, plausible. But packed with just as many women. "The waitress who took our drink order could barely hear me."

"Was he nice?" Annie asks.

"He was sweet." Truthfully Gloss was a sweet guy. He talked about his mother in a positive way, even if she gave him the name that was another descriptor for shiny objects. "He was attentive too. He told me his mother worked in the makeup industry. "

"That doesn't sound too awful," Delly says.

"He sounds delightful." Mags pushes her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose. The gang is getting tired of the story and I hope they will move on to the reason we are gathered, discussing the book we were reading. I begin to reach into my backpack because I really hate purses.

"If he's so delightful, why did he ask you to meet him at Ripper's?" Johanna says in her cross examination voice.

I wince as I take out my book.

"Yes, you must explain." Foxface demands.

"It's not nice to leave us dangling." Effie levels a look at me that has me squirming, feeling like I was being summoned into the principal's office.

"I wanna know how you know Gloss has a twelve pack," Greasy says.

Peeta looks at me expectantly.

Anndddd were back. I sigh. Will he run for the hills when I tell him? Most likely.

"We were talking about dancing.” My voice loses all it’s warmth. “I don't dance."

This causes a rumble of laughter and giggles amongst the women. Peeta looks confused. Finally Delly wipes the tears from her face and gasps, “You should never dance. Ever!”

"That poor man’s toes,” Mags says, her shoulders shaking.

“Do I need to know?” Peeta looks between them.

“I don’t dance!” I growl. The group erupts into another bout of laughter.

“It was a scheme, a dirty underhanded scheme,” Effie says.

The guy I was supposed to date was a dance instructor. He used the dating app as a way to drum up business. When the women meet him, he pairs them with guys who were there for a lesson. He paired me with a poor man named Harry. My nerves got the better of me, because I don’t like to be touched. Harry’s hands were sweaty. Harry tried to dip me as per my date’s instructions. I tripped, and in the process his toes were crushed, and I ended up with a sprained ankle.

When I arrived in crutches to the next book club, well, that was one of those dates that simmers at the surface vying to be in the top three.

“Gloss didn’t believe me. He said anyone can dance. I told him no, and explained that there are people who are predisposed to fly in airplanes, and some who get motion sickness in a car. “

“What happened next?” Foxface asks, moving to the edge of her chair.

“He went to the jukebox.”

“Oh no,” Johanna mutters. “Did he end up in the hospital?”

“Is that how you know he’s got a twelve pack?” Greasy questions. The ladies, and Peeta are all staring at me.

I shake my head. Why couldn’t there be a rush of customers right now? It is calm and I know the odds are against me.

“Spill it!” Johanna demands.

“Well, he queued up a song and waited a beat, and then Lenny’s Kravits’ American Woman started blaring. Gloss started sauntering and spun and did the splits on the floor. Next thing I know, the women in the place go nuts. They surround him, like a rabid pack of wild dogs.��

“Wait, what!” Delly exclaims her pale eyes bright, she grips the book in her hand.

“That doesn’t happen,” Peeta says.

“It does to her,” Foxface said, her eyes shining with ferocity, like the eyes of those women at Rippers.

“Shut it blondie,” Johanna orders.

“Yeah,” Annie says.

Taking a deep breath I continue. “He started dancing...hips…” my brain flashing to his hips gyrating. “...jutting out and…”

“Ohhhhh yeah,” Greasy cackles.

“Gyrating, his hips gyrating,” Foxface gasps.

With eyes closed I nod. “His hips were doing that all over the place. He then jumped on the table and proceeded to rip off his shirt. He shouted my name and told me his next move was his favorite. He spun onto his knees and slid up in my face before dropping his drawers.” I lower my eyes.

“What,” Delly squeaked. “His pants?”

“It’s like Magic Mike,” Mags whispers.

I know the movie Mag’s is referring to. I’ve never seen it. “Yes.”

“Was he naked-” Foxface began.

“-or was he wearing-” Annie cut Foxface off only to be cut off herself.

“A G-String!” Greasy shouted excited.

I shook my head no. He wasn’t wearing anything, I can feel the heat burning my ears.

“Well don’t stop! What happened next!” Even Effie has lost her sense of propriety.

“As I looked for an escape. It’s then I noticed the poster on the wall, for the Slag Heap.” I pause and sigh, “Men’s Magic Friday Night Extravaganza, and Gloss was the headliner. I realized he’s a stripper.”

And the place erupts in laughter.

“What did you do?” Peeta asks.

My eyes connect with his.

“I slunk down to the floor and crawled my way out...drove to the hospital and made my sister administer a tetanus shot.”

“Can I have his number?” Johanna says laughing but her eyes are dead serious.

Peeta is smiling at me and I grab a cheese bun because they are as delicious as the man staring at me.

Eventually we do get to the book, and it’s a pretty good discussion. Peeta let us stay until closing. Mags and Greasy are the last of the ladies to leave. It’s just me and Peeta since he let the staff go home. I’m loitering because I feel like I need to explain to Peeta why I let the ladies talk me into dating.

I’m putting up the chairs on the tables when Peeta comes out.

“You’re still here?”

“Yeah.” I look down at my feet.

“Katniss.”

“Peeta.” We both say at the same time, followed by a nervous chuckle.

“You first,” Peeta insists, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Dating wasn’t my idea.”

“It wasn't?” He raised an eyebrow.

I shake my head.

“So what happened?”

“The ladies, they got me a year long subscription for my birthday, and knowing I wouldn’t go through with it, they choose who I date...until I find someone,” I can feel the heat rising from my neck and reaching my cheeks, “I like.”

“Really?”

I nod, incapable of speaking. I cannot stop watching the way he blinks, those darned translucent lashes that never tangle.

“Dating is pretty brutal.”

“Yeah,” I snort because dating is horrible.

“My family is constantly setting me up. I went out with a girl who sang through the entire meal. She chose the pasta and sang On Top of Spaghetti.”

“What?” I laugh.

“That was my dad’s doing. My mom’s choice was a lot scarier. She made me do an obstacle course and made me do it three times until I beat the time she wanted me to reach.”

“Wow.”

“I was dressed in dress slacks, a nice shirt, and a tie.” He deadpans, “I even had on dress shoes.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he shrugs.

I couldn't help but smile.

“Dating sucks until you find someone who makes you laugh, someone who makes dancing easy.”

He approaches or maybe it’s my own feet that carry me to him. But it doesn’t matter because when his arm slides along my waist, and the other cradles my hand, I have no fears. There is something familiar with him as I dance with him. A slow shuffle, that has the room spinning but none of it matters because I feel at home.

“Will you dance with me Katniss?” His voice rumbles in my ear and my heart is pounding in my chest.

His scent is a warm heady mixture of spices, dill, vanilla, and cinnamon.

“Would you go out with me Katniss?”

“Yes,” I answer, and just like that my dating profile goes up in flames. Ladies and gentlemen, I am officially off the market.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by mega-aulover

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hawtsee · 7 years

Text

The Good Neighbor

I usually like to embarrass Madge in my fics, today it’s Gale’s turn.

Madge really, really wishes it was otherwise, but she’s become very familiar with the amorous sounds of her next door neighbors. Their bedrooms are separated by only a thin wall and nothing can block out the nightly carnal noises.

She would complain, but the guy, Cato, is terrifying. He looks like the type who would rip your head off at the slightest provocation. The girl is kinda scary too. She certainly seems to hold her own during their screaming rows. More than once, Madge has sat on her couch, clutching her phone waiting to call 911 as she’s listened to them argue. Fortunately, they’ve never turned physical.

Or, never come to blows anyway. They do turn physical - long, loud sex marathons against the shared wall dividing their apartment from Madge’s.

She knows the difference between their drunk sex, their makeup sex, their romantic sex. She can tell when they’re high, when Glimmer is faking, when they’re using toys. She knows them all.

So when she’s woken up in the early hours of Saturday morning by loud carnal groaning, she instantly knows that it’s not Cato on the other side of the wall.

Madge stuffs in her ear plugs and goes back to sleep, trying to figure out if Glimmer is really stupid, or really brave.

The next time she wakes up, the sun’s out. She hauls herself out of bed and throws on her running gear. As she’s heading out the door, she hears the sounds of the pair starting up again next door.

It’s a pleasant morning, ideal for a run, and by the time she returns to her block, Madge has forgotten all about the pair in 22C. She’s doing some cooling down stretches on the stump outside when a familiar motorbike roars up.

Cato.

Madge knows that if Cato catches his girlfriend fucking another man he will murder one of them, and possibly both. She can’t let that happen. So she presses long and hard on the buzzer for the apartment. Nobody answers, and then Cato is climbing up the steps to the front door and she has to let go.

He gives her a nod and a lecherous look as he passes in by her. She waits until he’s in the elevator before pressing the buzzer again.

This time a voice answers. “What do you want?” Glimmer asks angrily.

“Cato is on his way up right now,” Madge says urgently.

She hears an expletive and then the connection is cut. With a sick feeling in her stomach, Madge goes inside and takes the elevator up to her floor.

She stands outside the door to 22C, but can hear nothing. No fighting, no furniture being thrashed, nobody being beaten up. After a minute of further silence, Madge decides that Glimmer and her… companion weren’t found out.

She lets herself into her own apartment, strips off and hops into the shower. She takes her time, shampooing her hair and shaving her legs. By the time she gets out the water is turning cold and her skins is pruney. She wraps herself in a fluffy towel and pads into her bedroom.

There are sounds coming from the neighbor’s apartment. The sound of a bed thumping hard against the wall and Glimmer and Cato’s moans “Unbelieveable,” Madge mouths to herself. She tries not to judge, but come on!

Then she hears a tap coming from her left. She turns to her window and screams.

There’s a man standing right outside her window. He’s naked, save for a shoe which he’s using to cover his bits.

Madge scrambles around trying to find a weapon. She picks up and dismisses a bottle of perfume and her hair brush before seizing her nail scissors and pointing it towards the window.

The man knocks again, more urgently this time and uses his free hand to gesture towards the apartment next door, the ground three floors beneath him, and then into her room.

Slowly, the pieces fall into place. He’s Glimmer’s companion, forced to hide on the ledge because of Cato’s unexpected return. He makes another pleading gesture at her.

Madge really does not want to let a strange and naked man into her room, but she can’t leave him perched on the narrow ledge outside either, so reluctantly, she opens her window.

He clambers into the room and falls to the floor, clutching the carpet and breathing heavily. Madge stands over him with her scissors pointed at him.

“Thank you,” he pants. He rolls onto his back, forgetting his shoe and revealing his junk to Madge. She shrieks and and grabs the towel she’d been using to dry her hair and tosses it at him.

He laughs and wraps it around his waist as he rises to his feet. He’s about to say something, but pauses to listen to Glimmer and Cato reach their climax in a very vocal fashion. “Is that…. Jesus. She doesn’t waste time.”

“You are in no position to judge anybody right now,” Madge snaps. “Please, get out of my apartment.”

The guy makes a sound of protest. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m naked. My clothes are out on the street. Can you go get them for me?”

Madge really wants to tell him no, but she knows she can’t kick him out naked. For one thing, if anybody saw him leaving her apartment, they’d get the wrong impression. “Fine,” she huffs. She ducks into her closet and pulls on some clothes. When she goes back into her bedroom, the guy is examining the things on her dressing table. Madge examines him. He’s tall, well built but a little pudgy in the stomach, he badly needs a shave and a haircut and when he looks around at her, Madge sees that his eyes are bloodshot. She imagines that with a good sleep and a shower, he could be very handsome.

“Where are you clothes?” she asks. They go to the window and he points out where they’re scattered on the ground below.

“I don’t know where my other shoe went. Maybe you’ll be able to see it when you’re down there,” he says. “Hey, can I use your shower?”

“No, absolutely not,” she exclaims. She pushes him into a chair. “Sit there and don’t touch anything.”

Madge gives him one last glare before leaving the apartment to go outside and around the back of the building. She finds his sweater and jeans easily. There’s a pair of briefs hanging off a railing she can’t reach, and doesn’t really want to anyway. She finds a set of keys with a diamante ‘G’ hanging from them. She hunts around for the other shoe, but can’t find it.

“Fuck him,” she mutters under her breath. He can go barefoot. She trudges back inside and presses the call button for the elevator. The doors open revealing Cato pressing Glimmer against the wall of the carriage with his tongue jammed down her throat and his hand up her skirt. They split apart when they realize they’re no longer alone and step out. Cato nods at Madge, Glimmer ignores her completely. Neither of them notice the bundle of clothes in her hand.

‘Bitch’, Madge thinks to herself as she stabs the button for her floor.

Her bedroom is empty, but she can hear the guy peeing in her bathroom. When the toilet flushes, she knocks on the door and hands the clothes inside.

Instead of taking them from her, he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Are you sure you want me to put them on. We could-”

Madge cuts him off by shoving his clothes at him and slamming the bathroom door.

She’s totally regretting her good neighbor act.

While she waits for him to dress, she searches her closet for an old pair of flip flops belonging to her dad. He loaned them to her when she hurt her foot and couldn’t wear her own shoes. She’d never given them back and had been meaning to toss them. Might as well give them to… whatever his name is.

He emerges a moment later. He has washed his face and tidied his hair a little. He still looks like he desperately needs a good night’s sleep. She tosses the flip flops in his direction. He fumbles the catch and winces when he bends down to straighten them up so he can slip them on.

“Is breakfast ready?” he asks with a smirk.

Madge knows he just trying to get a rise from her. So she smiles tightly at him. “I think it’s time for you to go now.”

He rolls his eyes but follows her to the door. “So, uh, thanks, I guess.”

“You guess?” Madge whips around to face him, ready to give him a piece of her mind, but he’s still smirking. She dampens down on the retort and opens her front door.

At the exact same moment, the elevator doors slide open to reveal Cato and Glimmer. This time they appear to be in the middle of a heated argument. Glimmer spots the man standing in Madge’s doorway and gives a shriek of surprise. Cato turns, his eyes narrow with suspicion.

Madge really just wants to retreat into her apartment and let the three of them deal with their shit by themselves, but there’s an actual chance that Cato would murder somebody if he found out and Madge can’t have that on her conscience, no matter how much she loathes all three.

So she turns to the guy and flashes her biggest, fakest smile. “Thanks for an amazing night… stud. Maybe we could do it again some time.”

He grins at her. “Stud.” Then he grabs her waist, pulls her to him and plants a kiss on her mouth. He tastes of cigarettes and alcohol and god knows what else. One of his hands slides down to grab her ass. Madge pushes him away with as much force as she can muster. He smacks into the door frame and grunts.

Madge glances over her shoulder to see Cato and Glimmer enter their apartment. “I guess she’s not a total prude,” Glimmer says before the door closes.

“Bitch,” Madge mutters under her breath. She’s so done with this entire day and it’s not even ten in the morning. She pushes past the guy and slams the door to her apartment.

She sees him again six months later, though it takes her a while to recognize him.

Madge has been promoted at work, and one of her first roles is to liaise with the engineering team hired to undertake a major project with her company.

At the first meeting, she notices the tall, handsome man immediately. It’s hard not to. He has his back to her as she approaches, but she notes his broad shoulders and how well his suit fits him. He turns as she introduces herself to the head engineer. Madge is focusing her attention on Catherine Paylor, but from the corner of her eye, she sees the way his eyes widen in recognition.

Madge does not recognise him, and when Paylor introduces him as Gale Hawthorne, the name means nothing to her. Though he definitely seems to know her. He has a rabbit-stuck-in-headlights expression on his face. Madge can’t understand how she doesn’t recognize him if they have met before. Surely she would remember meeting somebody that handsome.

They’re about an hour into the tour of the building, when Paylor asks Gale his opinion on something. When she hears his voice, it clicks into place.

He was the naked guy on her window ledge.

She gasps. He hears her, goes pale and loses his train of thought. He stutters a little, regains his flow and finishes his answer. For the rest of the tour, he throws nervous glances her way. Madge pretends not to notice.

He doesn’t speak again, and does little more than nod his head when they leave. After saying goodbye to the engineers, Madge crosses the street to the coffee place.

She’s about to hand over the money for her coffee, when a deep voice comes from behind her. “I’ll get that.”

Madge turns to find Gale Hawthorne standing behind her. “It’s fine,” she insists.

“Please let me,” he says. “It’s the least I owe you.”

That’s true, so she accepts his offer. He tells her to sit and that he’ll bring the coffee down to her. She guesses that he wants to talk, which she’d really rather not, but knowing that they will have to work together, concedes that they should get it out of the way.

She finds a table towards the back of the room and waits. She examines him as he waits for the drinks. He has lost his beer belly, his face is clean shaven and his hair is combed neatly. He looks so different from the guy who had fallen through her window that morning that it’s not wonder she couldn’t place him.

Gale comes over to her a minute later with their drinks and a lemon bar for her, which she decides to ignore. He gestures to the chair opposite her, asking if he can join her. Madge nods.

After a moment of awkwardness, he speaks. “You moved.”

Madge frowns. “What?”

“You moved apartments. I went back a few weeks after… after our previous encounter, but you had moved.”

Her frown deepens. “Why did you go back?”

He flushes. “I wanted to apologize to you. My behavior that morning was way out of line. It was very inappropriate and I am very sorry for putting you in that position with your neighbors, and making you uncomfortable in your own home.”

“Thank you. Apology accepted.”

They sip their drinks quietly. Madge gives in and breaks the lemon bar in half and nibbles on a piece. Gale opens his mouth several times, as if he’s going to speak and then thinks better of it.

Finally he does. “Look, this isn’t an excuse, but it’s an explanation. I was having a pretty hard time adjusting to civilian life after my tour, and I started drinking too much, and doing things that I’m not proud of. That morning was a wake up call for me. I’ve stopped drinking, I’m going to group therapy. Nothing like that will ever happen again.”

“You’re military?”

“Ex-military. Engineering corp. I wasn’t on the front lines or anything, but…” he trails off uncomfortably, then shakes himself. “Anyway, I got back from Iraq about nine months ago and, I started drinking too much, going out, doing stupid shit, turning up to work late and hungover. I’m still on probation from that. After I got home that morning, I started thinking about what would have happened if you hadn’t let me in. Or if I’d fallen. I kept imagining the phone call my mother would get, what she’d have to tell my baby sister. I realized I couldn’t go on like that anymore. So I started going to group therapy. I’ve decided to abstain from drink and…. Well other crutches for a year.”

Madge bites her lip. “Other crutches…. Like sex?”

Gale flushes again. “Yes, sex.”

“Wow, that will be hard.” Her eyes widen when she realizes the double entendre and they both laugh.

“It’s been six months,” Gale says when they’ve sobered. “It’s been fine really. I’m kind of relieved. All the hook-ups was making me feel pretty empty, but I wasn’t able to stop myself.” He shrugs. “I’m in a good place right now.”

“You look good,” Madge says. She runs her eyes over his chest. Very good. He smirks a little, not in the arrogant way he had that morning but simply acknowledging the strange chain of events that led them here. Madge doesn’t find this smirk nearly so infuriating as she did that morning, in fact, she finds it quite charming.

“So, you moved?” he prompts.

“Yeah. I couldn’t stay living beside those two anymore. So I moved out and now I live beside a lovely lesbian couple in their sixties. They have pretty loud sex too, but at least I don’t have to worry about strange, naked men dropping into my apartment unannounced.”

It becomes a habit for them, meeting up for coffee and lemon bars. At first, they only talk about the project. Gale has been appointed as her point of contact on the engineering team, so she goes to him with all her questions.

Little by little they start talking about their personal lives too. Gale talks about army life and his family. Madge tells him about her parents, her bad dates, her neighbors’ very active sex life.

Gale never shows up late, or hungover or even unshaven. When he talks about his weekends, it’s about the hikes he took with his friends, or coaching his sister’s basketball team, or spending time with his family. Occasionally he mentions his therapy and how well it’s going.

“Do you miss it?” she asks one day. She hadn’t meant to, but she’s been wondering about it a lot and it sort of slips out. “Sex, I mean,” she elaborates when he looks confused by her question.

“Not really. Not nearly as much as I thought I would,” he admits candidly. “Sometimes I get really ho-,” he clears his throat. “There are times, yeah, but it passes. There are worse things.”

“It’s only another two months, right, and then you’ll be, um, able to get back on the horse. Are you counting down the days?”

Gale shakes his head. “No. Well, maybe a little bit. But, not so I can go out and get drunk and hook up with a stranger again. I’m done with all that. It never felt good afterwards. I always just felt empty. I am looking forward to having something meaningful with someone.”

Madge’s stomach twists at his words.

The next two months fly past. On Monday morning Gale buys the coffee and two lemon bars.

“Two? What’s the occasion?” Madge asks.

“It’s exactly a year since we met, I thought we should mark it,” Gale says.

“Oh really? Remind me again how that went?” Madge teases.

Gale groans and buries his face in his hands.

Madge giggles and decides to let him off the hook. “Did I tell you, I saw Glimmer recently. She was with a new guy; she and Cato broke up about four months ago.”

“What?” Gale feigns shock. “How can I ever believe in love if those two crazy kids couldn’t make it?”

“You know, she never ever thanked me for saving her ass that morning,” Madge says, stirring her coffee with a little more vigor than necessary. To this day, Madge is convinced that Cato would have murdered Glimmer if he’d found out she’d cheated on him. “Bitch.”

Gale reaches across the table and takes her head. “I don’t think I ever really did either. You saved me from whatever Cato would have done to me. You saved me from falling off that window ledge and breaking my mother’s heart. And you saved me from myself.”

Madge’s cheeks redden at the unnecessary praise. “Gale, I can’t take any credit for that. You’re the one who went to therapy and did all the work and saved yourself. I only let you in off the ledge.”

“No,” he says with intensity. “You did more than that, Madge. You made me take a good look at myself that morning and I realized that I didn’t like who was looking back at me. And for the past six months, you’ve been my friend. It’s been hard; the therapy and everything, it’s hard. But I do it, because I want to be a better man. I want to be a man that you’re proud of and not one you despise. I want to be a man worthy of you.”

“Gale…” Madge can barely speak. “I’m very proud of you.”

“Also, I want to be a man you want to see naked and not one you’re kicking out of your apartment.”

Madge laughs. She definitely wouldn’t kick him out if he was naked now.

“But, maybe a date, or three, first?” Gale asks hopefully.

“A date, and we’ll play it by ear.”

#gadge #my fics #gadge day

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