The Dinner Party

just a random idea that came to me in a fever dream earlier this week. rated E for explicit smutty smut smut. enjoy!

“You want me to do what?”

Peeta frowned at her foot, wielding the nail polish brush threateningly. “First, I want you to hold still.” Katniss wriggled her toes defiantly but then obliged, hardly daring to breathe when he swiped the coral nail polish onto her big toe in nice, even strokes. It looked perfect, of course. He could always paint better than she could, even nails.

“Seriously, though. You want me to go to a dinner party with you?” she asked. He glanced up at her with a crooked smile before he started painting her next toenail.

“You make it sound like I’ve asked you to strip naked and run around the block or something,” he said, focusing on her toes. She snorted, then clamped her lips shut when he shot her a warning look. Snorting made her foot jiggle, apparently. “It’s just a dinner party. Delly asked everyone to bring a guest–someone, and I quote, ‘interesting.’ So I’m asking you.”

Katniss stared at the top of his head, his blond curls falling across his forehead as he worked. “But I don’t really know her. And what a weird stipulation,” she said with a laugh.

Peeta shrugged. “Delly likes her theme parties,” he muttered, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he delicately painted her pinky toe. Satisfied with his work, he shot her a triumphant smile. “And you’re the most interesting person I know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Says the guy who paints nails better than any girl I know.”

He gave her a look of mock offense. “Are you questioning my masculinity? You know how I feel about rigid gender roles.” Then he held up his hand, palm flat, fingers spread. “And who’s got a steadier hand than me?” She kicked playfully at his hand, and he made a noise of protest, grabbing her ankle to place her foot down on the coffee table. “Don’t mess up my hard work.”

Katniss slumped down into the couch, chewing on her lip. “You know I don’t like people. How am I supposed to be interesting around a bunch of strangers?”

Screwing the nail polish bottle shut, Peeta sat back on his hands. “Just think of it as a challenge. See how often you can work into the conversation that dry wit and razor-sharp sarcasm of yours without them realizing you’re insulting them.”

“Do you want people to hate me?” she asked wryly, folding her arms over her chest. He grinned.

“Delly said interesting. She didn’t say anything about likable.” He laughed when she flipped him off, then pushed off the floor to stand up. “I should head home. But I swear, if you just be yourself, people will love you.” She didn’t think it was that simple. Peeta never had to worry about getting people to like him; it just came naturally to him. But she didn’t argue the point, letting him pull her up from the couch. With cotton balls stuffed between her toes, she wobbled after him to the front door. Grabbing his jacket from the coat rack, he turned to her. “So you’ll come?”

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anonymous asked:

Ok, so Bellamy says "You floated my mother" and thats meant to be a you as in specifically Kane? Or you as in all of you, members of the council?

I think it was meant to be him. Kane. As in Kane was the one in charge of the execution, as he was head of the guard. 

Kane was probably in charge of most, if not all of the executions. Remember who Kane was in season 1. He followed the law. The law said floating was the just punishment for crimes. He did what was best for his people ACCORDING TO LAW.

I think in a way, Bellamy’s conversation with Kane here was very similar to his scene with Jaha in The Four Horsemen. In both scenes, the older men were trying to impart wisdom that justified Bellamy’s actions and told him he was doing the right thing when he thought it was the wrong thing. 

In both scenes, he called them on their own past actions where they used those justifications to excuse their OWN sins towards the people. With Jaha, he was a lot more snarky and dramatic. With Kane, who he cares more about and is closer to, he knew the exact right phrase to call him to account and twist the knife. I’m guessing it’s something he’s been holding onto for a while. 

My understanding about that scene has changed as people have been discussing it. His repetition of “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved” shows a change. It’s no longer about saving lives. It is now about salvation. He’s admitted his sins and he does not believe they can be redeemed. But he’s still going to do what he needs to save as many people as he can, regardless of whether he’s “going to hell” or not. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, I ashamedly present to you what I did instead of the art I’m actually being paid to do (*europeanly shoves this at @forovnix*)

Morning Routines. (Ignis)

Sets an alarm so early, the sun isn’t even fully out yet. Presentation is an important aspect of his role, which is why he takes it seriously. His showers aren’t as long as Noctis’ but he does believe in pampering himself. Lighting a scented candle or two, using bubble bath. He likes to treat himself where he can. Even his toothpaste isn’t very minty, it’s actually quite sweet. He has a habit of brushing his teeth twice. Partly because he finds it a little off putting to have the smell of food coming from his mouth while conducting official business. The other part being that he actually really likes the way it tastes.

At this point, he still hasn’t gotten dressed. Preferring to tidy up a little around the place. That way he doesn’t need to attend to any of it when he comes back. Meaning he can just go straight to sleep if he so wishes. He finds it relieving that he wakes up early because that way he has enough time to be as thorough as possible. He tends to get calls throughout this process, but he’s talented at multitasking so his cleaning speed isn’t held back as such. The calls also tend to be short. It’s all business of course. So there are people double checking details, sharing what tasks need to be done, outlining anything important, catching up on the news. He does find it a little irritating since these people will see him at the Palace so it seems a little pointless to him. That irritation does wear off because all the cleaning just so happens to calm him down. Prompto also tends to send “good morning” texts, which always put a small smile on his face.

Finally getting dressed, he does another once over to see if there’s anything that needs immediate attention. If he has time he’ll look over the newspaper, otherwise he’ll either head to Noctis’ apartment or he’ll run whatever errands he needs to. On days where he heads to Noct’s, he usually feels a little overwhelmed. The hour he spends just waiting for him to finish his shower gives him a type of peace his day usually doesn’t grant him. Plus, if Noctis is still in the middle of his psyche up speech, Ignis won’t need much else to boost his spirits.

lost and found viii

bughead fanfiction - unbeta’d - chapter eight - it’s been a long day, please forgive errors


“Grief is the price
we pay for love.”
—Elizabeth II

Betty wakes up to sunlight on her face; gossamer beams filtered through dusty white shutters that paint themselves over her body still entangled in Jughead’s dark blue sheets. There’s a short moment of incognizant bliss, a drowsy illusion of peace. But suddenly, the quiet is stifling and her thoughts turn immediately to her son.

Jumping from the mattress, Betty doesn’t bother with clothes, only wrapping the sheet around her as she sprints from Jughead’s room to her own, only to realize Tobi’s not inside it.

Fear seizes her heart until she hears the sounds of a children’s show from the living room, along with the unmistakable jingles of his toys. Rushing out into the space, Betty holds the knot of the sheet in the center of her chest, feeling her heartbeat race beneath the skin as her breathing evens out.

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