Why Yes, This Is The Creator Of Our Source Of Happiness

why yes, this is the creator of our source of happiness…

I love him so much.

Poseiden, a god known for his wrath and temper:

iN All mY yEaRs oF LiVing iT iSn'T vEry OftEn tHat I gEt piSsEd Off

Please reblog this if fanfiction has been beneficial to your mental health.

From the 150 Random Writing Prompts, what about #32 - text me when you’re home. Giving me modern au vibes of the her phone call / "Katniss, I live three houses away from you."

"Wait a second. I'll walk you out," Katniss says, stopping Peeta at the front door.

Gale is already glowering at her from his spot at the kitchen counter. She's not sure why he cares: he spent the entire night talking fantasy football with some guys from his work. So she ignores him. He needs to chill out, the insecure baby. Gale pisses her off sometimes. He's never liked her to have friends who haven't received the Hawthorne stamp of approval. It wasn't this big of an issue until she moved in with him. She's starting to think cohabiting with him is the worst mistake of her life so far. His issues are getting worse. Cripes.

Peeta waits for her by the door, zipping up his blue fleece coat while she slips on her shoes to follow him outside. Silently the two of them head out the front door. It's cold out on the front step, that damp, chilly weather that soaks through your skin, chilling you to the bone.

"Thanks for coming over," Katniss says, hugging herself for warmth. "I wasn't sure whether you'd make it."

Peeta laughs. "I wouldn't dream of it. The house is nice," he says.

"Yeah. Gale spends most of his spare time working on it."

"That must be nice. Saves you money that way."

Katniss shrugs. It's no concern of hers what Gale does with his money. It's not her house.

"So Gale. He seems nice," Peeta says.

She gives him an incredulous look. "Not really."

"He's not so bad."

"He can be a pretty big dick," Katniss says, stamping her feet on the ground to get the blood moving through her legs. "Like tonight. He gets jealous sometimes."

"Hmm. Well. Can't say I blame him."

"It's stupid."

Peeta fidgets with his keyring, swinging the set around on his ring finger. "Well, as much fun as debating your boyfriend's virtues are, it's freaking freezing out here. I'd better head home. Got an early start tomorrow."

"Yeah. of course. But Peeta---Gale's not my boyfriend," she says.

"Oh. I just assumed."

"No---god, no," she says. "I'm like his little sister or something, crossed with his mom? I don't know how to describe our relationship. It's weird. He's over-protective."

Peeta looks away from her, scratching behind his ear.

"Will you text me when you get home?" she asks on a whim, wishing she could ask him to stay instead. A way to extend the night with him, at least by a few texts.

"Now, who's being over-protective," he says. His voice is soft like he doesn't want anyone to hear like they're sharing a secret.

His smile is warm. Pleasant heat, like the slow path of whiskey making its way into her belly. That's what it stirs in her. "Shut up," she says, smacking his arm lightly with the back of her hand.

"Katniss. I only live about a block away. Three streets. It takes me maybe fifteen minutes on foot."

She knows that. Still. "It's dark and cold, and I want to know when you're there. Humor me. It'll mean I'll sleep better tonight."

"Alright," he gives in.

Katniss steps closer to him. Before she loses her nerve, she stands on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. "Thank you," she murmurs, lowering herself to the ground and stepping away, already embarrassed by her actions. "Talk to you soon."