no a normal reaction to eating pizza alone is not an option

Papa Kitty: Paladin Pizza Party

“Is that what I think it is,” Pidge said, her eyes going wide behind her round glasses.

“Yep,” Hunk said setting down the two trays in his hands on their stands on the table as Ulaz set a third.

“How did you manage this,” Shiro asked, his own eyes going wide and his voice a bit louder than he normally spoke.

“Well it was a bit of trial and error but Ulaz, Thace and I managed to put our heads together to figure out how to make everything,” Hunk said, intertwining his fingers together briefly then smiled at Keith. “Your dads are really good at filling in the blanks for Earth recipes, let me say.”

“Hunk, you foodie genius,” Lance shouted, leaning forward to reach for the food. 

“What… What is this,” Keith asked, frowning at the humans’ excitement for- he wasn’t exactly sure what. It looked like a flat bread of some kind with sauce and different things on top of it.

“PIZZA,” the three teenagers said as one. Pidge elbowed Lance as she reached for the same pizza only to be put into a headlock by the taller paladin with one arm while he took a slice with the other.

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Petty Encounters: Part 8

Summary: All that work towards a friendship with Dean didn’t exactly work out and Jaycee definitely doesn’t like the two of you fighting.

Word Count: 2419

Warnings: None

A/N: @importantliverrighthere, here’s the cliffhanger I was talking about. Though I have written worse cliffhangers so I wasn’t too mean this time :) 

Part 1    Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6  Part 7


“You’ve got to be kidding me!” you exclaimed, voice getting louder with every word.

“Well, you can’t expect me to just sit around here every damn day,” Dean retorted, matching your volume and raising you some. “I gotta do something since we’re not getting any further with the demon thing.”

You crossed your arms across your chest and leveled your gaze on him. “Then leave, but don’t come back again. I don’t need you.”

“You need backup,” he countered haughtily. You made a disgusted noise at his stupid assumption. You didn’t need backup. He just wanted to feel needed and you weren’t about to coddle him. “And, sweetheart, backup doesn’t get much better than me.”

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Matching for Prom

Little ficlet I wrote, inspired by this post, because it just screamed Everlark! (Mistakes are mine!)

~*~

I dump all my text books on top my bedroom desk, readying to complete homework, before plopping down on the desk chair, that’s in desperate need of a replacement.

I just got home from work, at Sae’s Diner, where I’ve been picking up extra hours, to help mom with my own expenses. I’m pooped and moody, not that I’ve ever been a cheery person, but today has been borderline foul, since I had the displeasured to serve Haymitch Abernathy, a war veteran, turned Panem County’s resident drunk, who only seems to function of off white liquor, sarcasm and chili fries.

He’s the most antagonistic human being I’ve ever met, and I think he hates me, as much as I hate him. One thing I can’t fault the bastard for, and the only reason I put up with him, without spitting on his food, is his generous tips. I made more money today just waiting his sorry ass, than all the last three days combined.

I just wished his tips were reduced, only to the monetary kind, but the old coot has a mouth on him, and believes himself cleverer than everybody else.

My feet, along with my bruised ego, are killing me, after an hour with Haymitch!

I cross my leg over the opposite knee, grunting, when I yank off my combat boot of my foot. I throw the boot across the room, into the open closet where it lands with a clank. I’m about to repeat the process with my other boot, when my cellphone starts vibrating on top of the desk, where I’ve tossed it carelessly not a minute ago.

“I swear to all that’s sacred, if this is Jo, calling to swap shifts again… So help me… Imma scream at her ass!”

Lucky for Jo, it’s not her ‘Gene Simmons’ impersonation, the picture displayed on the caller ID screen.

My first smile all afternoon, comes effortlessly, as I see the goofy face of my best friend, smiling back at me. I already feel the stress of the day melt away from my shoulders.

I pick up the phone, and switch the silence button off, then quickly answer the call.

“Hello!” I sing-song breathlessly, with repressed laughter.

“Uh… Hiya there… I think I might have a wrong number or something,”

“What do you mean?” I whine at his confused sounding voice.

“Yeah, well you see, I’m calling Katniss Everdeen, petite, dark hair, always scowling, not a very people person, and I know for a fact, that today she had bad day at work, which most likely made her very grumpy,” he lowers his voice, as if he’s telling me a secret, “I’ve heard, she had a run in with her least favorite customer!” Then, in his normal, happy voice, he tells me, “But you ma'am, you sound too happy to be her. So, I’m sorry I bothered you… tootles!”

“PEETA!” I scream choking up on my laughter. “Don’t hang up, you doofus! I really did have a horrible day with Haymitch, and you’re possibly the only one, fit to salvage this terrible evening,”

He chuckles on the other side of the line. “Fine, I won’t hang up. Geez, now I know how Ben Kenobi felt… Since, I’m your only hope and all.”

“Help me Obi Wan!” I say in my best Leia imitation, making him chuckle again. “So, how did you know anyway?” I ask curiously, after a small pause.

“Word of mouth,” he says nonchalantly, “You know how it is. I was minding my own business, building a fondant masterpiece, when I overheard the melodious, chatty voice of Delly, lamenting to Rye, having to witness the debacle with her own eyes.” He paused for comic effect, “Although, I have to admit, I’d take her gossipy chatter, any time, over having to see them sucking face for one more second… Ugh!

“It’s disgusting! They look like a multi-arm monster, with a bad case of drooly mouth. ”

“Thanks for the unwanted visual!” I tell him, laughing at his aggravation, “You poor thing, your bother’s PDA bothering you?” I say in mocking, baby tone, cracking a big smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Wait until Prim starts dating. Watching your sibling with another person crazy glued to their face, is the worse!”

“Who said that Prim’s ever dating?” I snap at him, he laughs.

“So, was Delly wrong about your time with Abernathy?” I can hear the smirk return to his voice.

I sigh, “I’d say he was in raw form today. He decided to tell me how to make friends, because apparently, I’m too gloomy for his liking.” the easy smile I had in my face falls, and I tell him morosely, “He told me, I was as charming as dead slug,” I shrug even if can’t see me. “He pay with a one hundred dollar bill, and told me to keep the change. His ticket was only nine dollars and fifty cents. I guess I can put up with him, if he plans on making me rich after every insult.”

I hear him make that growling sound he makes when he’s aggravated about something. I know he’s got half a mind to go find Haymitch, and rip him a new one, for what he said to me. But, Peeta is about the only person the drunkard genuinely likes in town; being completely friendless is possibly the worse fate that can befall a person, I don’t wish it even to confrontational Haymitch Abernathy, so, I change topics, before Peeta makes his mind about screaming at the man.

“So, other than building fondant masterpieces, while eavesdropping at gossip that comes through the bakery, what else have you been up to today?”

“Oh! Right! So, I went to the mall before my shift, and walked into that tuxedo store, intent on renting my prom garb… because, you know, I gotta look sharp for Prom pics, and end up feeling like a dumbass, when the lady at the counter asked what color my date’s dress was, so we could match it up,”

“Oh…” I stutter. I don’t know what else to say to that. I didn’t know he was going to Prom, let alone with a date! But he keeps talking on his conversational tone, completely oblivious of my slightly hurt, completely confused reaction.

“So, she’s like: ‘okay, what color dress is your date wearing?’, and I’m like, ‘well shoot, I have no clue!’ and then she suggested I called, and find out and then, come back to see my options,”

“Um… uh…” My brain must be broken, I can’t seem to give any other response, and then I feel a sharp pain squeezing my chest, because apparently it just registers, my best friend is going to prom with some girl, and this is the first I’ve heard of it.

I always thought, Peeta and I would skip prom, and instead, binge watch The Walking Dead, while eating copious amounts of pizza and root beer. I feel like I’m going to do something stupid, like cry about all this. I’m still sorting through all this conflicting, disconcerting emotions, when I realize he’s asked me a question, and is waiting for my response.

“What was that?” I rasp, clearing my throat in hopes that I can hide the shakiness in my voice.

“I said,” he says slowly, “what color vest and tie, should I wear to prom?”

“Um. I- I don’t know?” Before I can even start to ask myself why in hell is he asking ME, about this, he adds offhandedly.

“Well we have to match, according to the tuxedo lady, so… what color is your dress?”

He only gets dead silence from my end. My brain really, just tossed itself out of the window, leaving me on my own with this mess.

Peeta, sensing that I’ve gone mute, keeps talking, trying to prompt an answer from me, "Yeah, I figured it would be something in the family of forest green, but, since I’m not one hundred percent sure of that, I didn’t wanna show up to your door on Prom night wearing green, if you decided to wear red instead… You know, either color would look absolutely gorgeous on you, because you’re so pretty and all… bold colors look amazing with your skin… I think dark greens and blues make your beautiful gray eyes pop, that’s why I love it when you wear that navy sweater of yours so much…”

“Peeta?” I try to interrupt him. He does this when he’s nervous, goes on and on, on this long, erratic rants, and I usually have to end up shouting his name to bring him back to the present.

“I think it’s how I see colors, that I can tell you what’ll look nice. I’d say you couldn’t look any more hotter, if you wore flames, but that’s just my humble opinion, although, now that I think about it, you’ll look amazing wearing flames…”

“Peeta,” I try again, because by now, I’m pretty sure I know what’s this all about.

He never asked me, if I wanted to go to Prom with him, but he’s so worked up, I know it’s what’s causing this insanity. I need to calm him down. Now!

“To be honest, I don’t want you look at our prom pictures, in, I don’t know… twenty years, maybe? and cringe in regret, because we looked like a mismatched pair, who randomly met at the dance, so…”

“PEETA!” I finally yell out his name.

“Uh… Yeah?” I hear the hesitation in his voice.

“So, yeah…” I take a deep breath, composing myself, “since when are we going to prom?” the question is pointed, and spoken slowly.

The line goes silent for a beat, and then he whispers, very quietly, “Shit… I forgot to ask you, didn’t I?”

I burst out laughing, "That would be correct, buster,” I keep giggling at his harsh breathing on the other side of the line.

If I close my eyes, I can clearly picture him, running his fingers through his golden curls, musing his hair as he goes, while bitting his lower lip sheepishly. I love the image, more than I care to admit.

“Um… So, Katniss?” He says quietly, “Would you, like to go to Prom with me?” He stutters a breath right after, and then rushes to add, as if I need the clarification, “Officially… as my date. As in, we wear matching clothes, ride in a rented limo, I buy you flowers and a fancy dinner, kinda date,” his voice is hopeful.

I can’t stop smiling.

Peeta and had been friends since grade school. We’ve been in the same class since kindergarten, but we only spoke in grade school, when my father passed away, and my mother was so sad, she forgot to make us lunches for school.

Peeta noticed me and my sister Primrose, huddled at a table empty handed, and broke his PB & J sandwich down the middle, sitting one half in front of Prim, and the other half in front of me, then he gave Prim his milk, even after I protested. Prim devoured her lunch so fast, I was afraid she’d make herself sick. I couldn’t blame her, though. It was the first thing we’ve eaten in a couple of days. So I finally gave in, and invited the kind boy with sweet blue eyes, and delicious bread, to sit with us. We became inseparable after that… anyone willing to feed Prim while going without, is worthy of my time and friendship, and Peeta has proven himself a thousand times over since.

The answer falls of my mouth, soft and shy, but without any hesitation, “Okay,”

He gives and incredulous little laugh, “So you’ll allow it?”

“I’ll allow it!” I say with my usual, self assured verb.

“Cool!” He gives a breathy, nervous giggle. He’s such a dork, but I love him all the same.

“Um, Peeta?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna go dress shopping tomorrow after work, with me? I’ve got ninety bucks burning a hole in my pocket, begging to be spent, and I just got asked to Prom by this insanely hot dude… I think I saw a cute, sunset orange dress, that might be well inside my budget, but I think I’m gonna need your expert opinion, since you know all about colors go right with my skin!”

The chuckle he releases warms my insides, and I know I won’t regret my prom date.