#mandelion82

[everlarkficexchange]

the song of my heart (plays in you)

Written by: @thelettersfromnoone

Prompt 108: Everlark fall for one another over a blood transfusion. It happens not once, but twice. His blood runs through her veins, and now hers runs through his. What are the odds they would save each other’s lives? [submitted by @mandelion82]

Rated: Teen and up; mentions of: car wrecks, physical and mental trauma, amputation.

Tags: One-shot, Soulmates, Time Jump(s), Blood-Oaths.

Word count: 2342.

Notes: Unbetaed. All mistakes are my own. Thanks to @javistg and @xerxia31 for being amazing hosts for this exchange ❤️

“The blood [of the covenant] is thicker than [the] water [of the womb].”

“Mama, tell the story again?” Grey eyes peek up shyly through dark eyelashes, fingers curling the folds of her mother’s nightgown. “ ‘bout the dream-people?”

“It’s late, darlin’,” Mama murmurs with a soft smile. She presses a kiss to her daughter’s brow. “Papa will tell the long version tomorrow, hm?”

The girl’s lower lip pops out in a pout- papa is the better storyteller, but she wants to hear the story tonight. She snuggles against her mama’s belly, whispering a ‘night-night’ to the baby they say is growing in there.

“There once was a boy who was called to war, to fight for a king in a land far from home. Though he survived many times in battle, one day, an enemy struck him, and he was hurt, something terrible. At death’s door, his friends brought him to a healer’s house, who saved his life. As he recovered, he grew to love the healer’s daughter, and she grew to love him. In time, when he was recovered, his king came calling on him again. Before he left, the boy and the healer’s daughter made a blood-oath. They drew their own blood, and held their wounds against one another. They vowed that, from that moment until they met again, the song of their blood would call out for one another, no matter how far.”

Her little hand reaches over to mama’s, pressing their palms flush. “Like this?”

“Mhm,” Mama interlaces their fingers, kissing her daughter’s knuckles. “Just like this. Every night, while he was away, all they needed to do was close their eyes, and they could feel one another’s feelings, and see through one another’s eyes.”

“Till forever?” The little girl’s eyes are growing heavy, a yawn coming in spite of her best efforts. “Mama, it’s til’ forever, right?”

Mama doesn’t answer straight away. When she does, it’s soft as a butterfly’s flight; “Till forever, until they found each other again.”

The little girl’s breathing evens out, eyes slipping shut. 

(She’s always wanting a happy ending.)

She’s twelve and using the computer unsupervised the first time she looks it up on a whim. She is meant to be researching poetry, but that quickly becomes dull. 

Instead, the rabbit hole of the web sucks her in.

According to the internet page that comes up, a Blood-Oath Soulmate is defined as a myth, steeped in legend: a couple who, when faced with separation, make a blood-oath that allows them to see, hear, and feel one another across the thousands of miles. 

The origin, exactly, is unclear. It’s a myth with several cultural variants- in her own region, Twelve, and in the northern regions of Åtta, Tio, and Tretton, the war is won, and the boy returns to the healer’s daughter. By contrast, in the southwest, they say the boy earned a glorious warrior’s death, and the girl grieves but honors his memory. In almost all the other regions, the myth is drawn out, many side-adventures and evils hinder the boy’s path home, and by the time the boy finds his way back to his love, amidst a continent of misery, they both are old and grey. It’s not clear where the myth started, some say it’s a retelling of an old Sumerian tale; others, that it comes from Viking oral lore. Some, still, argue that they all are true, that the same fate spreads itself throughout time, throughout the world, in different ways. 

All modern experts, essentially, concur on the matter of the story’s implausibility. The human body replenishes its blood count within weeks, one discussion board points out.

It was just a myth to make humans feel their love could be impermeable, or withstand the tests of distance and challenges, claims another. Or, one user with a profane avatar states, the modern meaning is just guess-work and the cultural context and any kernels of truth will forever be lost.

And everyone knows there’s no such thing as a soulmate.

Kat feels her stomach clench as she quickly exits the browser, lonely in the wake of her father’s death, and her mother’s subsequent depressive episode, and still clinging to her mother’s hushed telling of a love that is palpable down to the bone.

(She can’t decide if knowing it’s ‘just a story’ hurts or helps more. The veneer of childhood is always treasured for a reason.)

She is seventeen when it happens. 

A flash of a medical room. Harsh fluorescent lights. Thick, strong hands trying to block the light out. Starched sheets, scratching skin. A pinch of a needle and stifled shout- 

She wakes covered in sweat. 

Something is wrong, niggles at the back of her mind. Her pounding heart beats out wrong, wrong, wrong. She pushes it away, presses the thought down. She manages to lull herself back to sleep, a deep, imageless thing, but the wrongness sticks with her. 

The next night is nearly identical, except the stranger’s hands are tearing off the bedsheets. A stump of a knee rests where a leg should extend. A panicking voice, a nurse, shouts for help as the struggling and screaming begins-

“Where’s my fucking leg?!”

Kat wakes with a jolt, strangled gasps as she pushes her own blankets off, hands grasping at her limbs, the phantom terror and horror bringing bile up her throat. 

What was that?

A dreamless sleep doesn’t find her again, her eyes bruising with nights of nightmares and days of exhaustion. The hospital, the scratchy sheets, the nurses and medications and injections. 

One week, then another.

She’s in Civics class when it occurs to her. 

The blood drive, at the beginning of May. She’d turned seventeen, and finally weighed enough to donate blood.

Could it be…?

She sleeps in, one Saturday morning, when they are fitting a prosthetic on her stranger; crutches and halting steps as those beefy hands grip support bars.

“Just a step further,” a voice encourages. 

Shame and frustration, and a deep, croaking voice lashes out of the throat-

“I can’t!”

You can, you can, you can, she tries to will the stranger her confidence.

The figure stills, and for a moment, she thinks they can hear her. 

“I’m done,” they say, and in spite of the disappointment on the nurse’s face, a man in a white lab coat agrees, and helps them back into a wheelchair.

Kat feels the sinking failure, the desperate yearning to help this person, this stranger. There are only nurses and doctors, in her dreams. She knows what it means to be lonely, even when there are people around; what it means when you wake up in emotional pain, but have no one to share it with.

She wants to tell her stranger it will all be all right, but the weeks pass and she can only confide her secret to herself. They wouldn’t believe her, even if she could say it in person.

Where is your family? she tries to ask.

They never seem to hear her.

(Waking becomes harder, but she can’t confide in anyone that she wakes wishing she could live in her dreams without them thinking she’s gone mad.)

They are kneading dough, seated at a wood table in a cluttered kitchen. The prosthetic is fitting to the leg, tender today but not sore, exactly. She can smell the flour and feel the silky-smooth texture between her fingers. Smoothe jazz music is playing, from a radio over on the counter. She feels a hand squeezing her stranger’s shoulder.

“Looks good, Pete.” It’s a gruff voice, but not unkind.

“Needs to rise,” her stranger- ‘Pete’!- retorts. They don’t look up, but she can feel a flush on her ‘Pete’s’ cheeks.

“We got some coursework from the school, then.”

(She doesn’t realize this is the last she will dream of her stranger.)

The dreams evaporate, after eight weeks, as abruptly as they had begun.

In the aftermath of her first dreamless night in over a month, she wakes to the dawn breaking with no images from her stranger. 

‘Pete’. 

She tries to will herself back to sleep, compel visions back from the brink. It’s the first night she thinks to try and remember the names of the doctors and nurses, or the location of the hospital. The nametags are foggy in her memories, a nurse Jackie or Jenny and a last name they had abbreviated to, ‘A.’ 

The internet doesn’t help her any more than her own mind can. ‘An amputee named ‘Pete’ who likes to knead dough and is doing high school coursework at home’ doesn’t do much in a White Pages search. 

She writes it all down, then, each snippet and sound she can recall. She keeps the journal under her mattress, knowing her mother won’t bother, and her baby sister wouldn’t dare to look. 

Like a madwoman, she rereads her own accounts, adds notes to it every morning, hoping the dreams will start again. But every morning, the dreams seem more as if they were fantasies, and her journal reads like fiction.

A year passes. 

Her dreams now are either blank, or memories of ‘Pete’.

She could blame it on her family friend, and his stupid insistance that she attend Prom; or maybe the girlfriends she eats lunch with, who guilt her by saying that everyone needs a life outside of school, and after-school jobs.

Kat had only driven into town because she needed a damn dress. Two weeks later, and she would have been exhausted from Prom as she crossed the school stage, collecting her high school diploma.

Nothing pans out the way she imagines it will, though.

She’s alone in the car when a truck in the oncoming lane overturns at a curve in the road.

Pain bursts on her head. Flames against her skin. Crushed metal, and broken glass. In the distant fog of wailing sirens, she can hear first responders attempting to call out to her. 

The only thing she remembers seeing clearly, between the accident and the hospital, is smoke rising into a blue, cloudless sky, through a shattered windshield.

“You lost a lot of blood, Kat,” the doctor says, tone not unsympathetic. “We had to do a transfusion.”

“Oh.”

She blinks, a haze of morphling in her preventing her from fully comprehending. Some broken bones. A neck brace. Burns on her face and arms, but not as bad as they first had thought- she won’t need skin grafts.

All small mercies.

Her sister and mama are there, balloons and flowers and hugs a-plenty. Get-well-soon cards from several classmates and family friends.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” her mama murmurs, as the doctor leaves.

“Okay.”

Mama runs her fingers through Kat’s knotted hair, while her sister clings and tells her how much she loves her.

She’s not numb, not beneath the morphling. But she’s so damn tired and her skin itches under the bandages. 

(She can’t comfort her family while they try their hand at comforting her.)

She is washing her hands in the hospital room sink, when she feels a jolt, a compulsion; a chill down her spine and gooseflesh down her arms. She looks in the mirror, and feels in awe, feels a foreign elation. A burst of affection, a warmth. 

She can’t reckon with it, can’t justify it. 

It’s just… her own face. Sloppily braided dark hair. Healing stitches on her cheek, and forehead. Silver eyes, surrounded by a bruise, set in a narrow face. She gulps, leaning in closer, and trying to grasp the sensation. Out-of-body, might be the right term- dissociative, she’d read about once, for Health and Wellness. 

There’s a knock on her door, the nurse doing a check, and as Kat turns, the warmth dissipates.

The nurse comes in not long after, checks her vitals and asks a series of questions.

“My name is Katniss Everdeen.”

That warmth in her chest is back, the hair at the base of her neck stands straight.

She scrubs her hands over her face, focusing on the simple questions the nurse is asking.

“I’m eighteen years old. I’m graduating from PPH12 in Sommen in one week. I’m at Merchant Memorial Hospital.”

In the bathroom that night, she stares at her own reflection, and wonders if maybe that feeling of someone looking over her shoulder- more like looking through her eyes- if maybe….

She fogs up the mirror, and writes her room number. She stares at it, for a time, before scoffing at own ridiculousness, and wiping it away with her towel.

She only has one day left before being discharged, though she’ll miss graduation and the parties that would entail. She can’t say she is particularly disappointed; she’s never been a party person.

She’s awake when the door to her shared hospital room opens. She pays it little mind. The curtain around her bed is pulled taught, her roommate jabbering away on their phone about the food service as if this were fine dining, rather than a hospital. Kat is reading a get well card, this one signed by the whole senior class and class advisors.

There’s a thrumming in her veins, but that might be them weaning her off of the morphling.

Curtain rings scrape against metal, and she barely glances up, the nurse rounds due any minute now. Normally, though, the bubbly nurse who does the day-shift is already bustling with an overwhelming enthusiasm that makes Kat question how exhausted the nurse is at the end of the day.

Maybe it’s a different nurse or a doctor or mama, or- 

The blue eyes that are boring into hers are ones she has only seen in her dreams; she can finally see blonde curls framing them, familiar thick, strong hands brushing through the curls. 

“Pete?” she croaks, certain she’s finally lost her damn mind.

His eyes widen at the sound of his name, lips parting. 

“I found you.” 

A tone of surprise, as if he’d driven all this way, but in expectation of disappointment.

“Peeta,” he introduces himself, edging closer. His hand carefully takes hold of her own. “And… I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Katniss.”

(Her name has never been spoken as sweetly, and her heart has never felt so full.)

[seasonsofeverlark]

Falling Slowly

Author: @jhsgf82 

Prompt: Um.. maybe like.. cute fluff with Peeta and Katniss and expecting a toast baby? Maybe and AU like in real life. Then like the whole shabam of all that expecting and birth of a toast baby.  Newlyweds maybe like getting things going. They find out unexpectedly but are happy and yeah! Cute!  Um… like new town, or city. They run into each other everywhere by accident. They kind of make a joke about it. Then they date, and then he asks her to marry him. [submitted by @crazedfangirlofmanythings]

Rating: T 

Author Note: Happy Birthday, Zeffie!  Admittedly, this prompt got a bit out of hand and turned into kind of a mishmash of several ideas I’ve had, including a couple of recent ones that popped into my head as well as the prompt.  I’m calling it my Frankenstein’s monster fic (because it’s pieces of several fic ideas strewn together), lol.  In spite of that, I really enjoyed writing it!  I hope you’ll enjoy reading it, too.  So, here you have it, my take on young Everlark meeting, falling in love, getting married, and expecting a toast baby in modern AU, and I hope you have a wonderful day!  All the best!  <3 Mandy 

“Falling Slowly” music and lyrics by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova.  Due to terms and conditions, copyrights and all, I couldn’t include the entire song, but check it out.  It was a big inspiration for this fic! ______________

Growing up, Katniss Everdeen always heard that Capitol City was the place to go if you wanted to make something of yourself.  If you wanted to be…well, anything, that was where you needed to be.  And Katniss had ambitions.  Of course, no girl from the wrong side of the tracks, such as herself, could ever expect to afford a high-rise in the Capitol, so she settled for a teeny-tiny apartment in the neighboring suburb of Panem.  

Moving away from the Seam, her lifelong home, at the tender age of 19 was no easy feat‒Katniss especially hated leaving her sister‒but she dreamed of becoming a singer.  Primrose encouraged her dream, said she had the gift which their father had possessed, and told her she needed to ‘go for it.’

Where better to go for it than the Capitol‒or, in her case, just outside of it?    

Katniss had been living in Panem for nearly a year.  She’d landed herself a job as a server (and occasional delivery girl) at Cato’s Pizzeria.  It wasn’t a terrible job.  Although Cato could be kind of an ass when he was in a bad mood‒and his girlfriend was a pretentious little snot‒overall, he was alright to work for.  She lived in an apartment around the corner from her job, alone, well, aside from an ugly old cat named Buttercup, a gift from her well-meaning sister, who wanted her to have some companionship when she went off to the big city to make her way.  Prim was so afraid Katniss would be lonely, but Buttercup was little more to her than an annoyance, and an extra mouth to feed, at least at first.  Admittedly, the one-eared, rotting squash-colored feline had grown on her.  

Sometimes Katniss was lonely, but she was used to being on her own, and she kept busy.  She worked, grew a garden on her balcony, talked to Prim whenever she could (and occasionally, their mother), and on her off days, she went to an archery range and sportsmen’s club‒archery was a hobby of hers, taught to her by her father.  She’d gotten a good price on a package deal there from the owner, Hawthorne, so she’d allowed herself this one indulgence.  But her passes were rapidly running out.        

As of late, one of the best parts of Katniss’s day was passing by the corner bakery on her morning jog.  Every time the door would open, she’d catch a whiff of that incredible fresh-baked scent, and sometimes, she even swore she could smell it through the closed door.  But she’d never stopped in.  Oh, she’d wanted to, but that was yet another indulgence, and when you’re on a budget, you can’t often afford to treat yourself.  And having a taste for bread and a sweet tooth as she did, Katniss knew she’d be a goner the moment she set foot inside, so why give herself the temptation?      

And then she met him.  

Spring was in the air the day he came into her life, although the significance of it was originally lost on her.  She recalled how they bumped into each other at the grocery store, literally.  He turned a corner; so did she, and wham!  Their carts collided, and immediately, they were both muttering apologies.  

And then, they locked eyes.

His eyes were the most amazing blue color she’d ever seen, like the ocean or the sky or the bluest blueberries of summer.  And she remembered thinking her gray eyes must seem so dull in comparison.  

She dropped her gaze, then; she simply had to, for the danger of staring into his eyes was like looking directly at a solar eclipse.  In dropping her line of sight, she got a look inside his shopping cart.  He was buying what appeared to be ingredients for a cake, or cookies, or some kind of baked good.  Either way, she was sure it was gonna be delicious.  How she knew that, she wasn’t sure.  Maybe he was a terrible baker.  

And…she really needed to stop thinking about sweets!

When she looked back up, his blue eyes were twinkling like little stars.  He was broad-shouldered and handsome, and he looked like spring, with his blond waves and bright smile.  And dimples.  The man freaking had dimples! 

Speaking of sweets…

A gust of air passed her lips, something like an incredulous sigh. 

“Hi,” he greeted her in a charming tone of voice.  

It should be easy to say hi back, right?  Wrong.  

Flustered by his appearance and his voice, the word lodged in Katniss’s throat, thick and sticky.  She maneuvered her cart and rushed past him, muttering an “Excuse me” for lack of anything better to say.   

Katniss knew the blond guy was a few people behind her in line, and she could feel his gaze burning a hole into her back.  He was probably staring because he couldn’t believe how someone could be so incredibly rude and awkward all at once, failing to respond to even the most basic of human communication.  Oh well.  Not like she’d ever see him again.

She did see him again. 

The next time, she was leaving the bank, and he looked to be heading to the post office, which was catty-corner to the bank.  The time after that, he was coming out of the pharmacy with a small, white bag in hand.  Was he sick?  Oddly, she found herself concerned over his welfare, this guy she didn’t even know and had never spoken a word to.  

A few weeks passed, and apparently, they had this little back and forth thing going.  She’d catch a sighting of him, watch for a minute or two, then play it off as if she hadn’t been, if she couldn’t escape without him noticing her.  He, however, was bolder than she and would actually smile and wave if they happened to lock eyes.  He never seemed caught off-guard at seeing her (or at her catching him staring), although she never gave him the chance to approach her.   

The following time, Katniss was jogging in the park.  He was seated on a bench with one leg crossed, a sketchpad on his lap and a pencil in hand.  He was staring down intently at the white paper.  She hadn’t realized she’d slowed to an in-place jog no more than a few feet away from him when he looked up. 

“We meet again,” he spoke smoothly.  And Katniss’s body went rigid.  She stopped jogging and stared at him.

“Uh, yeah,” she blurted out as his lips parted to say something else.  And those two words were all she said before bolting past him at lightning speed, her braid slapping against her back in the wind.  

***

“You sure can run,” remarked the blond guy.  It was a few days after the run-in at the park, and he was leaning against the brick building housing the bakery‒Mellark’s, she noted‒when she passed by, heading to work.  He was wearing tight, black pants and an orange polo shirt with a logo, which she couldn’t quite make out from here, on the left side of his chest.  He had a white apron slung over his shoulder.  

Oh, he must work there.  Lucky.  What a great job.  Getting to be around baked goods all day, breathing in that scent, and maybe sampling some things.  Of course, she was around pizza all day, and that was a pretty good smell, too.  She never got to sample, though.  

“Sorry to spook you last time,” said he.    

Spooked.  Funny.  Like she was a wild horse.  

She kind of acted like one around him.  She was doing better this time, though; she hadn’t bolted yet.  However, she still hadn’t quite found her tongue around him.  

“I’m Peeta,” he offered, flashing a set of pearly white teeth.    

Pita?  Like the bread?  

As if reading her mind, “That’s P-E-E-T-A,” he spelled it out, extending his hand.  

Oh, what the hell?  She took a few steps forward and slipped her hand into his.  It was warm and large, and she felt a jolt like a car battery being charged.  He gave her hand a firm but gentle squeeze, holding on a couple of extra seconds.  Strangely, she didn’t mind so much. 

“You got a name, mystery girl?” he quipped.  

The corner of her lips twitched in response.  “Yeah.  It’s Katniss.” 

“Katniss,” he said it slowly as if tasting the word; then, he nodded.  “I like it.  It’s pretty, even if it does mean swamp potato.” 

Katniss gaped, and Peeta laughed‒a low, throaty, pleasant sound.  

Alright, so she was impressed he knew about her namesake, and she did like his smile and his laugh, but that didn’t mean he should say such things to a total stranger.  Placing a hand on her hip, Katniss pursed her lips.  “This coming from the guy named after bread?” she retorted. “And I prefer duck potato or arrowhead.  Or, better yet, Katniss, if you don’t mind.”  

Peeta grinned.  “Whatever you say, Katniss.”  

He took a deep inhale, causing his broad chest to rise, and even if her social skills were lacking, she could tell he was preparing to say something.  She wrung her work shirt between her hands.  It was going to be so wrinkled… 

“Would you like to…come in?” he asked.  “First customers are on the house.”  He motioned with his thumb toward the bakery. 

“How do you know I’m a first-time customer?”  

“Well, I own the bakery, rent the building, at least, and I practically live there‒actually I do, literally; I have a place upstairs‒and I’ve never seen you come in before.  So…?”

Katniss was sorely tempted.  Not only had she been dreaming of tasting everything inside of that bakery, but now, she had extra incentive.  

“I can’t,” she replied.  “Gotta go to work.” She waved her hand indiscriminately, not quite ready to tell a complete stranger where she worked, no matter how much information he’d just dumped on her, and no matter how attractive he was or how nice he seemed.  

 “Alright, no problem.”  Peeta tossed her an easy smile.  “Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around.”  

It seemed inevitable in their case.

Now that she knew where he worked (and lived), and how close by it was, it made a lot more sense why they kept bumping into each other.  And she kind of liked the notion of knowing where to find him, you know, if she ever wanted to.  She felt a little like a creep about that, but it was rather comforting.  Maybe knowing where he would be would somehow prevent any further awkward occurrences.  She hated looking like an idiot before him.  

Giving him the faintest of smiles, Katniss spun around and padded off toward Cato’s.  Halfway there, she shot a glance back over her shoulder.  Peeta was watching her.  She wondered if he was trying to see where she went, which was something that should put her on high alert, but somehow, this guy didn’t seem like a threat.  He didn’t stick around, though, only threw up his hand in a static wave then turned and pushed through the door of the bakery. 

*** After that, Katniss started seeing Peeta nearly everywhere, even more so than before.  Was it because she was looking for him, or something else?  With Peeta, Katniss got the distinct impression that he must be following her as it seemed far too coincidental they should cross paths so often, whether they lived and worked near one another or not.  It would be creepier if he didn’t give off such an innocent vibe, and if he wasn’t so nice to look at.  Not to mention, he could very well accuse her of the same.  

She had been noticing him a lot.  She’d learned a lot about him through observation, too‒like, he drove a motorcycle and frequented the music shop.  Was it possible he was a musician, in addition to being a baker and an artist?  

*** Whenever Katniss would pass by the bakery, she couldn’t help glancing in the large picture window.  Okay, so it was more than a fleeting glance; she was basically a step short of pressing her nose up against the glass.  Sometimes Peeta would see her.  He was always busy, but she got the feeling he knew when she usually came by, and was maybe even searching for her, because he started looking up from the counter practically the moment she walked past.  One time she even foolishly hid around the corner and peeked in to see what he would do.  It seemed as though he looked out the window a lot.  

She felt ridiculous.  Maybe she was truly the creeper in this unusual relationship.  Thinking she’d officially crossed over into stalker territory, Katniss decided to do something about it, and so, on her next day off, she went inside like a normal person.  

Peeta was behind the counter helping a customer.  When he finished and saw her, he tossed her an annoyingly charming lopsided grin.  “Fancy meeting you here.” 

“Yeah, what are the odds?” she quipped as she made her way up to the counter. 

Peeta grinned.  “I know, right.  So, you finally came in.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m glad you did.” They exchanged syrupy smiles, then Peeta threaded his fingers and rested his chin atop his hands.  “So, what can I do for you, Katniss?” 

The flirtatious lilt to his words and that look brought butterflies to Katniss’s stomach.  She sucked in a breath.  “Umm, I don’t know what…I…” 

“May I make a suggestion?”  Peeta didn’t wait for her answer but turned and walked off.  He returned seconds later with a golden bun on a small plate.  “It’s a cheese bun.  One of my specialties.” 

“How much is it?” she asked, instinctively touching the flap of her small, green crossbody purse.  

Peeta waved his free hand.  “First-time customers are on the house, remember?” 

“Really?  You do that for everyone?” 

He didn’t answer, but his dimples said it all.  

Liar.  Cute, sweet liar.   

But she couldn’t resist the smell, so Katniss accepted the proffered cheese bun.  And God, was it good.  The moment she bit into it, her salivary glands went nuts.  Her mouth was already begging for more halfway through the first one, and she knew there was no going back from here.  

Great.  Baker boy had just started a full-blown addiction; he’d better be prepared to finance her little addiction or at least strike up some kind of deal!   

The cheese bun was so incredible that Katniss had the urge to tell someone about it.  She couldn’t tell Cato, no.  Not like Peeta’s bakery was competition, but Cato was the alpha male type, the type who didn’t like other mammals at the watering hole, and he’d surely be envious of Peeta’s cheese.  She took another bite.  Damn.  If Cato put this cheese on top of his pizzas, people would be breaking down the doors to order.   

Maybe she’d call up Prim and tell her, but then she’d have to explain about Peeta.  And she wasn’t sure what to say.  Besides, she kind of wanted to keep the corner bakery, and Peeta, as her little secret.  At least, for now.    

Katniss finished off the cheese bun as if it were a mere morsel.  

“Another?” asked Peeta. 

Please, yes!

“No, thank you.” 

“No need to be polite, Katniss.  I made too many.”   

Was he lying again?  

“Seriously.  I’ll never sell them all, and they’ll just go to waste.  I hate to waste food.  Have another.” 

Well, how could she argue with that?  And even if it wasn’t true, who cared?  Not her, not right now.

“Okay.” She swiveled her hips from side to side shyly while he went for another.  He grinned broadly as he held the second one out, then watched her eat with rapt interest.  It made her a bit uneasy, only because she felt so self-conscious under his fervent gaze.  

She felt the need to make conversation or something.  

“You know,” Katniss began as she finished the cheesy bun off, “you shouldn’t waste them.  You should donate them or something.  I think people would like them, even if they weren’t fresh.” 

“Actually, I do.”  Peeta grinned and winked at her.  

“So, I just ate some needy person’s cheese bun?”  Damn you, Peeta.  

“No, Katniss,” chuckled Peeta.  “There will be plenty for the needy people, and you seemed rather in need of one yourself.” 

Katniss’s eyes shot away.  What, did she look like a ravenous hyena when she ate?  

Peeta chuckled.  “Sorry, that came out wrong.  What I meant was, I’m so glad you enjoyed.” 

She nodded.  “Thank you.” 

Peeta got busy after that, and Katniss felt silly hanging out, so she moved to leave.  He bid her a reluctant goodbye and told her to come back again soon.  

***

Katniss did come back, not long after, and often.  She was going to get fat and go broke if she kept this up, but she couldn’t bother to care.  She was obsessed, with more than just Mellark’s cheese buns.  

For his part, Peeta always seemed happy to see her, greeting her with a wide smile, and occasionally, a little wink that made her blush.  As soon as he could, he’d go to her, leaning against the counter, getting as close to her as he could, and giving her his full attention, whenever he could.  They flirted back and forth, discreetly.  At least, she tried to be discreet; Peeta didn’t seem to care.   

He always tried to give her something free, too, and even when she refused, he sometimes slipped extra goodies into her to-go bag.  

They talked here and there when she visited the bakery, and slowly got to know one another.  Katniss learned that Peeta, unfortunately, had a bad home life and was teased about his weight as a child.  She, in turn, told him about Prim and confessed that she’d been teased for being a loner freak as a child.  They covered a lot of ground.

One day, Peeta brought up something she didn’t expect.    

“I heard you sing,” he told her.   

“What?”  How?  When?  

“You were humming while waiting for your order the other day.”  

“Oh.”  Glancing away, she cleared her throat.  “You heard that, huh?” 

“Yeah.”  When she looked back, he smiled at her.  “So, you’re a singer?” 

“Not really.  I mean, I love to sing, and yes, I’d love to call myself a singer, but I can’t really say that I am.  I’m just a waitress who happens to sing on the side.”  

“No, you are.  You are a singer.  What I heard was beautiful, but aside from that, no matter your skill level, if you love something and you do it, then you’ve earned the right to call yourself that.  Only you get to decide what you are.”

Katniss’s face broke out into a huge grin.  If he wasn’t behind that counter right now, she’d probably throw her arms around him.  

“You know, I play a little guitar…”  So, he is a musician.  “Sometimes I play with some guys at the music shop.”  So, that was why he went there.  “And I was wondering…” 

“Yeah?” she inquired with more eagerness than she’d expected to come out.  

He took a breath, releasing it slowly.  “I was wondering if you’d like to maybe…” He one-arm shrugged.  “Jam with me?” 

“Jam with you?” She smirked.  

“Yeah.”  Peeta cocked his head and raised a blond eyebrow.  “How about it?”

Maybe she shouldn’t, but she wanted to.  

“I’d love to, Peeta.” 

***

Several days later, they met up at the music shop, not late, but after hours, a time set aside by the owner (a friend of Peeta’s) for musicians he knew to come and play.  

“I figured this was the best place,” Peeta told her.  “You know, until you get it through your head that I’m not some psycho who’s been stalking you.” 

Katniss laughed.  “Maybe I’m the one who’s been stalking you,” she countered.  “Why do you think I come into the bakery so often?”

Damn it.  What was she saying?!  She couldn’t believe she was being so bold.  

Peeta chuckled heartily.  “I thought it was just about the cheese buns, but if that is the case, then be my guest.  I’ve never had such a pretty stalker before, and I’m kinda curious to see how it pans out.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” 

“No,” he said, and Katniss’s face instantly fell.  Of course, he didn’t.  How could he?  She was plain and ordinary and…  “I think you’re fucking beautiful.” 

Katniss cheeks boiled.  

“And your voice…God, the birds must stop to listen.”

Katniss glimpsed him from beneath her fluttering eyelashes.  “If there were any birds in Panem.” 

“What about the pigeons?” asked Peeta. 

“They don’t count,” she replied.  They both laughed.  

“You know, I saw a mockingjay once,” Katniss began.  “Back home in District 12.  The Seam, we call it.”  

Peeta nodded.  “You mean a mockingbird?”  His face contorted a little in confusion.  

“No, a mockingjay. It’s the mutt offspring of a mockingbird and a jabberjay.” 

“Ohh, I see.  Interesting.”  Peeta grinned.  “But enough about birds.  Ready to sing?” 

Katniss bit down on her lip and nodded.  She watched Peeta pull his guitar out of its case.  It was a muted orange color.  He slipped the strap around his neck and led Katniss by the hand over to two stools.  

They settled in, and Peeta picked at his guitar, ensuring it was tuned.  Then he started strumming a few notes.  “Do you know this one?” he asked, looking over at her.  

“Oh!  Yes, I do.”  It was the opening riff of “Falling Slowly.”  

Peeta began to sing… 

I don’t know you, but I want you…

All the more for that…

Katniss sang the female part:    

Words fall through me And always fool me

And I can’t react 

Peeta sang:   

And games that never amount

To more than they’re meant Will play themselves out…

Peeta bobbed his head as he strummed.  

They sang the chorus together:

Take this sinking boat and point it home

We’ve still got time…

Raise your hopeful voice; you have a choice 

You’ll make it now… 

Falling slowly, eyes that know me

And I can’t go back… 

“You have a nice voice,” interrupted Katniss.  

Peeta stopped playing and faced her.  “Oh, go on, you.”  He grinned.  

“No, I’m serious.”  His singing voice was a little raspy compared to the velvet that was his speaking voice, but she liked it, a lot.  She liked both, and the contrast.   

“Yeah, well, not as nice as yours.  But thanks.” 

Katniss glanced down at her hands in her lap.  “You’ve barely heard me sing.” 

“Well, let me hear more now.”  The look in his eyes suggested he was interested in more than hearing her sing.  They were alone now, and it seemed like so much…heat had been building between them. 

Peeta leaned in to where his curls just brushed her forehead.  She was sure he was about to kiss her, and rather than moving away, as she probably should (because this was all happening too fast for her), she shut her eyes. 

Author’s Note:  Alright, so that was a wicked cliffhanger, but it was just all I had time for!  I have more written, which I hope to put out soon, but it still needs edited.  I know this didn’t touch a whole lot on the prompt, Zeffie, but I had to work them up to that point.  I hope you enjoyed Part I, though!  

Summary of Part II:  Katniss and Peeta date, fall in love, and get married.  Of course!  Katniss receives an incredible offer that could make her a star, but she also gets the shock of her life, which could completely derail her plans.  But then again, sometimes life takes unexpected turns, and we end up wishing for things we never thought we would.  Later on, content with their decision to start a family rather than pursue fame, Peeta and Katniss expend their energy preparing for the baby.  Peeta gets into the notion of vlogging Katniss singing his songs to toast baby in the womb, and Katniss suggests he start a YouTube channel in order to put his songs out there.  Perhaps opportunity will come knocking twice?      

Snippets/Teasers for Part II:  

She stirred at the feel of his finger against her cheek but kept her eyes shut.  She felt him trace the lines of her cheekbones then softly pinch a bit of cheek flesh between his thumb and forefinger.  And then his entire large hand was cupping her cheek.  At last, she opened her eyes, and he was staring into hers with the most loving look she’d ever seen. 

“Katniss, I…”  

She smiled, and he returned it.  

“I feel so…so much for you.  So many things…I think I need to write a song about it!”  

“Seriously?  Right now?” 

“Yeah.  When inspiration strikes, you gotta go with it, sweetheart.” 

Katniss laughed when he leaped out of bed and went for his notebook.  A moment later he was settled back in beside her.  She rested her head against his arm while he scribbled furiously.

“Are you really writing about your feelings for me?” she asked shyly, peeking at the pages he was playfully hiding from her. 

“Mmmhmm.” 

Katniss huffed and buried her face in his sleeve. 

… 

“Put that thing away, Peeta.”  She tried to snatch his notebook, but he moved it to where it was just out of her reach, despite her being draped across his lap now.  

“Almost done.”  He patted her head like a dog.   

Katniss huffed and righted herself, and he went back to work.  She watched him for a moment.  “Peeta…” she began in a singsong voice.  “You know, you can write songs about me or…you can make love to me.” 

Peeta instantly dropped his notebook onto his lap, and his head snapped toward her, his brows raising almost cartoonishly.  “What?” 

Katniss shot him a seductive look.  “You heard me…”  

*** 

“I think you could be the next singing sensation, Katniss.  You could even be on television.” 

“Sorry, but I don’t think so, Cinna.  Not unless the show’s called the Capitol’s Biggest, Fattest, Pregnant Singing Sensation.”   

“Oh, you’re pregnant.  Well…that’s not a problem.”

***

Peeta wrote a new song for them every three or four days, at least once a week.  Katniss didn’t know how he was churning them out so fast.  

“Who needs famous?” Peeta commented.  “Our normal is pretty damn good.”

“Yeah,” she agreed.  “Can’t imagine anything better.” 

“Right.  I mean, we work our asses off, but we actually love what we do, even if it’s not our dream.  We work hard, but we play hard, too.  And we definitely love hard.”   

***

“And this…this ravishing creature is my gorgeous wife, Katniss Mellark!  Say hello, sweetheart.  Isn’t she amazing?  Have you ever seen a more beautiful…?” 

“Peeta, come on,” groaned Katniss.  “Stop with the video…” 

Peeta flipped to selfie mode and smiled into the camera. “She doesn’t like it when I gush too much about her and our life together.  But I mean, how can I not?  Beautiful wife.  Baby on the way…  And you’ve seen our teeny-tiny apartment, right?  Who could not be happy here?  This home is so filled with love, and more on the way!”  

“Peeta, that’s sweet, but it’s more about the fact that I look like a sweaty rhino.” 

“You do not.”  He kissed the top of her head.

“I do, too.  Now, please…” 

“Alright.  Sorry, my love.”  Peeta walked into the next room, jabbering away into the camera.  

Not two minutes later, he heard Katniss shout.  “Peeta!  I need you!”  

[ombradellaluna]

I'm not sure if you're still taking winter prompts and what you were asking for specifically, but could you draw Katniss, Peeta, and babies opening up presents on Christmas? 🎄 if it's not too much trouble. Thank you!

Thanks @mandelion82 for the prompt!! It took me a while to finish it...Hope you like it! ( I made the girl almost a teen LOL)

Thanks to @eiramrelyat and @safeinpeetasarms for the help! Talking with you was so useful!

[jlalafics]

If you're not busy, lovely, how about a little drabble of Peeta and Finnick (preferably just bromance, nothing more, maybe talking about their women or something) to this prompt: Bro we are stuck here for ever why don’t we just take care of each other like we’re supposed to. If you feel up to it. You can use your imagination. Thanks!

I hope you like it! I had a lot of fun writing this too. Funnily, Hubbs told me that he had a similar conversation with one of our friends about this specific subject.

Enjoy!

____

“Thanks for helping out, bro.”

Peeta clapped Finnick on the shoulder, giving him a smile, as they stepped into the room.

“No problem. It can’t really be that hard, right?” Peeta leaned down, examining the picture on the large box. “So, what’s so great about this particular crib?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Finnick replied. “Annie read in some magazine that it’s the top tier when it comes to cribs. I don’t know why we can’t use the one we used for Finn.”

Peeta snorted. “Didn’t you find it on a curb?”

“It was still in great condition.” Finnick shrugged. “I guess it’s different now that this one is a girl. Sugar and spice and stuff…”

“Well, let’s open the box and just spread everything out.” Peeta walked to the door, hand on the knob. “I’m not sure how much room we’ll need so I’m going to close—”

Finnick turned to him, panic in his green eyes.

“Peeta, don’t—” The door made a distinct click. “—close that.”

Peeta twisted the knob, finding it stuck.

“The lock is weird,” Finnick explained. “Annie is supposed to pick up a new doorknob after she and Katniss leave the baby fair.”

“So, we’re here until they get home?” Peeta asked and his friend nodded. “Fuck.”

Finnick chuckled. “I concur.”

++++++

They decided to work on the crib, spreading out the various parts before setting to work.

“So, are you excited?” Peeta asked. “You’ll have one of each. If she’s as great as Finn, then it’ll be smooth sailing.”

Finnick smiled, thinking of his five-year-old. Finn had his looks, but Annie’s sweet disposition—a perfect combination, if he had to say so himself. Their son was currently attending one of the most prestigious elementary schools in the county and doing quite well, according to his teachers.

However, Finnick was worried about the little girl coming into their lives in a month. What would she be like?

“Everything okay?” There was clear concern in Peeta’s voice. “You blanked out for a moment.”

Finnick sat back against the wall of the lavender nursery—Annie was not a big lover of pink—and gave his friend a thin smile.

“I was just thinking that I have no idea what to do with a daughter,” he admitted. “I mean I know women—”

“That is true,” his friend told him.

Before they were married men, they were roommates, living the high life in their downtown loft. Finnick often had overnight visitors while Peeta was constantly pining for his childhood friend, Katniss Everdeen.

Jerk that he was, Finnick really didn’t think about the girls after they left his place. Now, on the cusp of welcoming a daughter, he dreaded the thought of her becoming one of those girls—the one who the guy never even thought about after.

“But I don’t know girls,” he continued. “How do I teach her to watch out for guys like me?”

Peeta joined him against the wall. “What do you mean?”

“How do I ensure that she doesn’t become an afterthought to guys? How do I make sure that she is respected and cherished?”

Peeta rested his head back in thought for a moment.

Finally, he turned to his friend.

“You start with you.” Finnick straightened at the man’s words. “You cherish her, and you treat her with respect. You teach Finn to do the same. That way, she’ll always expect that behavior from guys and stay away from the ones that don’t meet those expectations. She’s always going to be looking for you to be the example.”

“That’s true,” Finnick said quietly. “I’m still a little afraid. I don’t want her to ever get hurt.”

“Kids get hurt,’ Peeta replied simply. “But parents are there to help them get up after they do. You’re going to be there for her.”

Finnick turned to his friend. “How did you get so smart about kids?”

A warmth spread through Peeta’s complexion.

“Katniss is pregnant. We’ve been trying for a while and I had been reading every baby book since we started, only to find out one thing.”

“What?”

“Only you know what’s best for you and your child,” Peeta told him. “In the end, it’s all instinct, as it has been since the moment people started having babies.”

“Wise words, my friend,” Finnick responded. “Congratulations, man. You’re going to be great.”

“Hey—if Katniss and I have a girl, then we can double team our girls’ boyfriends,” Peeta joked. “Idiots won’t know what hit them.”

Finnick smirked at the thought. “I have a bb gun. I can stand it by the door when he comes around.”

“Katniss still has her bow and arrows,” Peeta told him. He looked over at the crib pieces. “How mad will they be if we don’t have this crib finished?”

“Annie made me sleep on the couch two nights ago because my breathing was too loud for her,” Finnick said. “If I don’t finish this, I’ll be sleeping in here until I do.”

Peeta slowly stood up. “Then, let’s do it. I expect you to help me when we get our nursery started.”

Finnick got onto his feet.

“Thanks.”

“Of course, man.” He patted Peeta on the shoulder. “Also, you’re going to be an awesome dad.”

The two quickly embraced in solidarity—

“Are we interrupting something?”

They turned to find their wives in the doorway, grins of amusement on their mouths.

The men pulled apart.

“We’re just two men—secure in their masculinity—who are not afraid to share a hug,” Finnick told them.

“You are two men who haven’t done anything with this crib,” Annie pointed out, hands on her hips.

“How about I paid someone to do this for me and we order from that Thai place you love?” her husband responded.

Annie’s eyes lit up. “Angel wings?”

“One container for you and another container for the rest of us,” Finnick promised her. “Let’s go downstairs so I can order. While we’re waiting, I’ll give you a foot rub.”

That was all Annie needed to hear, pulling her husband out of the room immediately, and leaving the other couple in the nursery.

“Did you tell him?” Katniss asked her husband.

Peeta nodded, putting an arm around her, and placing a kiss on her temple. “Katniss?”

“Yes?”

“I hope we have a girl.”

FIN.

[hutchhitched]

As if you don't have enough to do, hehe. 1, 20, 35 (Holiday Prompts). I cheated a little, so you can take your pick, or all if you want! Everlark, please and thank you.

I never have too much to do for you! Thanks for the ask. I decided to save this one for today because it kinda seems like the perfect January 1 to me. Hope you like it. 

1. The scent of real Christmas trees 20. Snuggling up in cozy pyjamas 35. Afternoon naps after eating too many holiday treats ______________

 “Come sit by me,” Peeta requests as I walk by him. He grabs my wrist and looks up with the sweetest expression, but I shake my head.

 “Give me just a second. I want to turn on the lights.”

 I know a lot of people pull down their decorations on December 26, but that’s never been my family’s tradition. It’s probably because we always got our tree late in the season because we could either snag a free one or my dad didn’t have time to cut one of our own until he could get a day off at the mines. Since we only had the tree up a few days before the big day, we continued the celebration after and took the tree down on New Year’s Day or sometimes later depending on what day of the week the holidays fell. This year, Peeta and I decided to enjoy our tree until we got tired of it, and that hasn’t happened yet.

 I lean over to flip the switch that turns on the tree lights, and the scene of pine fills my nostrils. It takes me back to my childhood so swiftly that tears swell in my eyes. A few deep breaths and swallows help calm me, but neither do any good at making my heart stop aching.

 “Hey,” Peeta says softly and reaches for my hand. “You’re okay.”

 I offer a watery smile and nod.

 Taking his hand, I curl up next to him on the couch. We’re both still in our pajamas since it’s a holiday and neither of us have anything to do but spend time together. He bought them for us—flannel and fleece that are so soft and cozy it feels like I’m wearing a cloud. My cheek falls on his shoulder. It’s all muscle but so comfy due to the soft fabric. His arms tighten around me, and we watch the lights from the tree reflect on the ceiling as a football game plays on the television.

 After the party we attended last night, it’s nice that we have time to relax on the first day of the year. We snuggle together and eat all the bad things Peeta cooked and I bought over the holidays. That’s a lot. I have some of his cheese buns and fudge followed by cookies and a pie that makes me drool. He munches on snack mix and chocolate from his stocking, and we both groan at the amount of sugar and carbs we’ve managed to consume in a short amount of time.

 As the windows darken, we nod off as the screen flickers and the volume plays low. We wake after a nice nap, sprawled together with a blanket draped over us. When he kisses me, I nuzzle into him. It’s not long before we’re awake and completely consumed in each other. The air is cold, but he keeps me warm as we move together, totally involved in making the other happy.

 When we’re finished, he lights the fireplace, and we wrap ourselves in blankets and each other. It’s a lazy evening, full of happiness and traditions we hadn’t even realized we’d made. When he tells me he loves me, I know I have everything I need. Last year was hard, but the new one stretches before us with so much promise. There are only 364 days left to go of the year. I plan to take advantage of every single one.

[thgdiscovery]

Going Down With the Ship

Author:  @mandelion82 (JHsgf82) 

Summary:  Modern AU. Everlark awake married after a drunken night. They set out to find the man who married them and get some answers. 

Rating:  M 

Read Here

[captainseaweedbrains]

Ship: Everlark #48

Thank you so much for sending me a prompt! I hope you enjoy! As always, drabbles don’t exist in my world. So it’s a bit longer than I anticipated. :P 

Prompt: Meeting again at a high school reunion AU

Ao3: X

Send me a ship and a prompt and I’ll write a fic/drabble!

“If you don’t go over there and talk to him, I’m going to and you know I won’t edit out any embarrassing details,” Madge warned when she saw Katniss looking over at the Welcome table yet again. 

Katniss scowled, the alcohol clearly not kicking in yet. “I don’t need your help, Madge.” 

“You’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes, Katniss,” her friend pointed out, “watching that table like a scared hawk.” 

“Can a hawk be scared?” Madge glared at her and she conceded. “All right, all right. Yes, I am acting like a scared, made-up hawk, but I can’t help it! I made a total ass of myself back in high school. I’m afraid he’ll remember.” 

“Of course he’ll remember.” 

“You’re no help. Why’d I bring you as my date again?” 

Her friend smiled a winning smile and rubbed her swollen stomach. “Because my dearest husband decided a fishing trip with his brothers was more important than coming with me to our ten year high school reunion and he bribed you with anything you wanted from his store as thanks.”

“Right, right,” she laughed. “So why are you trying to pawn your date off on some stranger, Madge Hawthorne?” 

“Please!” Madge scoffed. “Peeta Mellark is so not a stranger to you. How many times did you two hook up in high school? In the band room, under the stage in the auditorium, the Home Ec room, and correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you two do it in Abernathy’s office?” 

Popping the maraschino cherry from her drink into her mouth, Katniss smiled. “I’m not confirming, nor denying, anything of the sort. We were total saints in high school.” 

“Uh huh.” Madge sighed and readjusted herself in her seat. “If you were total saints, why not go over and talk about your sainthood with Peeta, then?” 

Because she had broken his heart? Because 18-year-old Katniss panicked and ruined a great thing? Because she knew for a fact, thanks to Facebook and small town busybodies, that Peeta had just gotten out of an engagement with some gorgeous blonde who looked like a model and showing up now felt like cutting open an old scar? Because she was scared of telling him how she really felt then? And how those feelings haven’t really gone away and seeing him there, smiling and laughing next to Delly Cartwright as they welcomed old classmates, reminded her those feelings were definitely still there?

“Because he’s busy working the Welcome table,” she said instead. “Don’t you hate when people chit chat you up while you’re trying to work a table?” 

“No, but that’s because I’m not weird about people like you are.” 

“I miss the shy, barely-spoke Madge from high school,” Katniss teased, bumping her foot against Madge’s. “What happened to her?” 

“I joined a sorority in college and had to do three years of recruitment,” was all she said, still giving Katniss a pointed look. “Go talk to him, Katniss. Rip the band aid off.” 

She looked over at the table and frowned. “What if he tells me off? I don’t think I can handle that kind of rejection.” 

“He won’t,” Madge comforted, resting a hand on Katniss’ knee. “But you won’t know until you go over and say hello. Here,” she tore off her name tag and ripped it in half, handing the two pieces over to Katniss. “Ask for a new name tag for me as your excuse to talk to him.” 

She gratefully took the stickers and stood up, glancing over at the table. Two people were in line, the first person animatedly talking to both Peeta and Delly she didn’t recognize from behind. Yes, she can do this. With one long shot of her drink, she went and stood in line, Madge giving a whoop of cheer in support. 

The wait wasn’t long. Five minutes tops before she was walking up to the table, the two pale blondes smiling up at her, reminding her of all those times in high school they’d be managing the ticket table at lunch for Student Council or the ticket booth for football and basketball games. 

“Katniss Everdeen!” Delly welcomed in her high-pitched squeaky voice that hasn’t changed a bit in ten years. “I thought I saw you around! You silly goose, how are you? What have you been up to? How has life been treating you? How is that lovely sister of yours?”

“Delly,” Katniss smiled. Even now, after all these years, it was hard not to reciprocate the woman’s warmth and energy. “Life’s been good, thanks. Can’t complain. Still living at home with my mom and sister. Prim’s fine. Going to school to be a doctor.”

“That’s amazing! And you’re a teacher now, I hear, right?” 

“Um—yes, I am.” Her eyes shifted to Peeta, who was all smiles as well, before focusing back on Delly. “I’m a high school choral director at the high school next town over.” 

“You did always have a beautiful voice,” Peeta stepped in and her legs almost turned to jello at the sound of his familiar yet somewhat deeper voice. “Inspiring students to find their voices.” Ever the wordsman, Peeta Mellark was. 

“Yes,” she blushed, unable to help herself. “Um. That’s a really nice way of saying I spend half my time telling my classes to quiet down so we can get some work done.” They laughed and that helped calm some of her anxiety. “How are you both? I haven’t seen either of you since we all left for college!” 

Delly answered first. “I’m a proud Stay-at-Home-Mom—” 

“Don’t get her started on her triplets or else we’ll be here all night,” Peeta teased, happily accepting Delly’s shove. 

“Wow,” Katniss breathed. “Triplets. That’s—that’s a lot of babies!” 

“That’s what Thom says—you remember Thom, right, Katniss? We all had gym together in eleventh grade. Well, he’s my amazing husband now and he’s always joking how we nailed it out of the park on the first try.” She held out her phone to show a picture of three chubby toddlers, two girls and a boy, smiling cheekily at the camera in nothing but their diapers. “Gretchen, Analise, and Tommy,” Delly explained, pointing to each happy baby. “They just turned three last month and boy, are they keeping me busy!” 

Katniss nodded. “They look adorable, Delly. Look just like you.” 

“Thank you. That’s what everyone says.” She put her phone away. “Anyone in your life, Katniss?” 

“Oh, um. No.” She looked down at the stickers in her hand, realizing she didn’t need it now with Delly talking a mile a minute. “Work keeps me pretty busy and most guys don’t understand why I prioritize a bunch of high schoolers over—well, everything.” She laughed, feeling a bit awkward now talking about her non-existent love life. 

Delly looked over at Peeta, a knowing look in her eyes. “Peeta knows exactly how that is.” 

“Delly,” he said, rolling his eyes at her. “I’m a high school art teacher,” he explained to Katniss. “And I run the school’s debate and speech teams for some extra money. So I get prioritizing your students over everything else.” 

Oh. She didn’t know he was a teacher, too. Well that made a lot of sense why it was a pain hunting him down on Facebook. How had she not put two and two together? “Elective teachers unite,” she joked half-heartedly, feeling nervous again now that the attention was on him. 

“May our program budgets always just barely make the cut,” he joined in, all smiles. She smiled back, unable to help herself. His smiles, familiar despite time away, always made her feel more at ease. 

“You know, ever since I had the triplets, my bladder has never been the same,” Delly abruptly said standing up. “I have to visit the potty. The bathroom,” she corrected herself. “We’re working on potty training right now. Peeta, guard the table while I’m away?” 

“Oh. Uh, sure thing, Dells.” 

“You keep a close eye on him, Katniss. Make sure he doesn’t cause any mischief,” Delly warned with a wag of her finger before walking away, waving to those she knew as she went, which seemed to be everyone.

Katniss stood there for a moment, forlornly watching their buffer leave. She barely knew Delly, but now as the curly-haired blonde left, she felt a bit of a betrayal of being left alone with Peeta. 

“You don’t have to watch over me,” Peeta said, her attention snapping back to him. “Delly was just teasing.” 

“Oh no, it’s okay.” It wasn’t, not really, but admitting that would make things ten times more awkward. “Madge is my supposed date tonight, but she’s been spending more time in the bathroom than with me. So it’s fine. Um.” Just get it over with! “How are you, Peeta?” 

“I’m fine, Katniss. Thank you for asking.” 

“Of course, of course.” Wishing she’d consumed more alcohol before pursuing this quest, she went forth, “I heard you moved back into town. With your brother?” 

He shook his head. “I forgot how small this town is. Yeah. I moved back. Go on and ask.” He motioned at her, rolling his eyes. “About my engagement. Everyone’s been asking about it.” 

Katniss winced. “I didn’t want to pry, but yeah, I heard.” 

“As did many others.” He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m fine, really. I broke it off with her, actually. Wasn’t a right fit,” he explained. “I didn’t think it fair to either of us to continue further, but it still hurts a little.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Peeta.” But was she really, though? Was she seriously happy about a guy she hadn’t spoken to in over ten years being single again? God, she was a horrible person. “But it sounds like you did the mature thing. Breaking it off like that.” 

He shrugged. “That’s what everybody tells me.” 

Someone came up behind her and she stepped aside as Peeta snapped into greetings mode. It was amazing watching him change so swiftly like that. Some people truly never changed, she realized, remembering how quickly he seemed to change moods at the flip of a switch. He did it the day she broke things off with him. How his eyes cascaded down in disappointment and she’d wondered if he might cry after confessing how he felt about her for all this time, but then someone had walked in, calling out to them, and he became all smiles and acted like nothing drastic had happened between them.

It was a bit unsettling, the more she thought about it now. 

The line of late comers started growing and Delly still hadn’t returned. Deciding to keep her promise, Katniss took a seat next to Peeta and smiled as another former classmate stepped up, ignoring the quizzical look he sent her as they were asked questions about times for the planned events and how they both were doing. Many assumed they were married now, remembering how close the two were in high school, and thank god for Peeta stepping in and saving her stumbling tongue, explaining how Katniss was just keeping Delly’s seat warm until she returned and that they hadn’t seen each other until tonight. 

After the third or fourth classmate assumed their matrimonial union, Katniss laughed, picking at the ripped sticker she’d stuck to her skirt for safe keeping. “I didn’t realize so many people remembered us together.” 

“Small town school,” he reminded her, his tone light and joking. Like she didn’t stupidly break his heart. “I’m not surprised they remembered you. You forget how much of an effect you have on people, Katniss.” 

Her cheeks warmed. “I think you mean yourself there, Mr. Popular. I was that awkward band and choir girl with the braces who never shut up about why the Baroque style was far superior to Classical.” 

“I remember those rants fondly,” Peeta laughed. “Your face would get all pinched because I barely knew what you were talking about, so I couldn’t offer any opinion. And I loved those braces! The silver brackets really brought out the silver in your eyes.” 

She rolled her eyes, remembering that line he used to pull every time she complained about her teeth. “Well I’m happy to say those days are gone. I’ve been metal-free since college.” 

“Took that long, huh?” 

“I’m pretty sure my orthodontist was just milking it for my money those last three years,” she laughed. “My teeth looked pretty straight to me.” Katniss smiled widely, showing off her white, straight teeth she suffered many mouth cuts and rubber band snaps to achieve. He joined her and wow. It really did feel like no time had passed between them. Like they were just a couple of teens back in high school, making fun of a teacher or a douchey classmate. 

Peeta looked down at the table, tapping his pen in thought. “You know,” he said after a moment, still looking down, “I am free from this table at 7.”

“That makes sense,” she nodded. “If people haven’t arrived in the first hour and a half, that’s their loss.”

“It is,” he smiled, glancing up at her. Yes, his eyes were still as clear blue as she remembered, and was it possible for eyelashes to grow? His looked longer now. “If you’d be fine with it, Katniss, I’d like to catch up with you some more.” Was it her imagination or did he seem nervous? That made no sense. She broke his heart. If anyone should be nervous, it was her. And she was. The constant flutter in her stomach more noticeable now with her sitting so close to him. 

“Oh. Um.” It was her turn to look down at her hands. “Okay. Sure. Yeah, that’d be great.” 

Peeta seemed uncertain, though. “Are you sure? Was I too forward just now? Sorry, ever since my break-up, I seem to be a bit rusty talking with people.” That was hard to believe. 

“No, no!” Katniss rushed to assure him. “I just—didn’t think you’d really want to catch up after how we ended things.” There. She mentioned it. Old heartbreak was out there now. “I know I messed things up pretty badly.” 

To her surprise, Peeta laughed, shaking his head. “Trust me, that is water under the bridge, Katniss. I was stupid and should have picked up on the vibes you were sending me.” 

“And I was stupid, too,” she said, a bit shyly. 

“High schoolers can be pretty stupid.” 

“I don’t know,” she smiled. “Mine seem a lot smarter than when we were that age.” 

“Mine too.” He pretended to think. “Perhaps we were just idiots and it has nothing to do with how young we were.” 

She laughed. “Maybe.” 

He tapped her pen with his. “To being idiots?” 

“To being idiots.” She tapped his pen back. 

And at 7 o’clock sharp, Peeta declared it was time they drank until they got so drunk, it was like they were back at Finnick Odair’s Friday night after-game parties. Katniss happily agreed, sternly reminding him she wasn’t going to make out with him tonight like they used to do in the toolshed during those parties, causing him to burst out laughing. Quickly scrawling out Madge’s name on a new sticker, she told Peeta she’d meet him at the bar. 

“I have to give my date her sticker.” He told her the booze waited for no one and headed to where a group of their classmates were chanting for someone to “Chug! Chug! Chug!” She smiled and went back to Madge, who was chatting with Leevy Anderson, an old friend of hers. 

“Well,” Madge asked after Leevy excused herself. “You were gone an awful long time. Did you get my sticker?” Katniss handed it to her with a smile. “I take it things went well? Or were you just sputtering out nonsense.” 

“It went very well,” Katniss told her, glancing over at the bar where Peeta stood, holding two drinks out, one clearly being hers. “We’re going to get crazy drunk now because this night has been extremely long for both of us. I hope you’re fine driving me?” 

“One of us needs to get crazy drunk tonight,” Madge laughed, patting her stomach. “Drink for me, too?” 

“Of course.” 

“Going to make out with Peeta Mellark like old times?” her friend teased, noticing Peeta now. “I’m sure there’s a closet you two can sneak into.” 

Katniss scoffed at her friend’s blatant assumption. “No, we’re not making out tonight, Madge.” Madge nodded, taking a sip of her pop. “We might next Friday, though,” she added a bit coyly. “He’s taking me out to dinner.” And she walked away before her friend could say anything further.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

👀

end of year WIP meme!

send me a 👀 and i’ll post a snippet of art/writing that i never got around to finishing this year (r.i.p)

********************

Thanks @madelion82! This is from one of the many, many *hangs head in shame* @everlarkficexchange prompts that I’ve collected over the years. I had every intention of finishing this one, but then I didn’t. Sigh. The prompt is from the 2019 exchange, so I’m gonna claim that I got completely distracted by Unmasked. haha. Anyways, I made some real progress on it this year, outlined and ideas all sort of squared away, but just couldn’t get it all written. The prompt is: Everlark friends, one is a writer of romance or smut (novels, fanfiction, whatever) and uses the other as inspiration. What happens when they find out?

This one’s near the top of my priority list for 2021.

*********************

Pounding on my door makes me scream and my pulse spike. I pant and stare at the surface.

“Katniss!” He shouts and I close my eyes to catch my breath while he pounds some more. “You aren’t answering any texts. If you don’t answer the door, I’m using my keys. Fair warning!”

“I… I fell asleep,” I say and stumble to the door, unlocking and then flinging it open to reveal my best friend in the whole world, who is mercifully completely dressed. His hair may be slightly messed up, but it’s no more than what the wind would do to it on his way over. He’s also carrying a grocery sack.

“You scared me,” Peeta accuses. “The only reason you ever ignore my texts is if you’re dead or Effie isn’t happy.”

“Remind me when the last time was that I died?” He scowls at me then and I think for a brief moment that as often as he teases me for my signature scowls, he’s packing a few killer looks of his own behind those baby blues.

“I brought ice cream,” he says instead of responding to my quip and shoves the grocery sack into my torso.

I don’t know what comes over me, but I fling my arms around him, trapping the ice cream between us.

“Whoa.”

“Thank you,” I mumble into the side of his neck. I take a deep breath and then melt against him as his one arm wraps around me.

“Was Effie that harsh?” he asks, his voice now soft as silk, only making me melt further into his embrace. His hand gently rubs my back.

“No, she was just honest.”

“Okay, well. It can still be fixed then, so let’s get you working. I’ll serve up the ice cream. Let me go before it melts all over us.”

At this point, I couldn’t care less if it did. I’m just elated that he’s here and not wrapped up with bedazzled jeans Barbie. Still, something about what he said niggles at me.

“There might’ve been another reason I didn’t answer your texts,” I hedge as he plucks the grocery bag back out of my arms and leads the way into my kitchen.

“Oh?” He sets the bag on the counter and opens a cabinet. The right cabinet for my ice cream bowls. I scowl, not sure if I’m annoyed that he knows his way around my kitchen like it’s his own or that he’s being dense.

“I might’ve had a man over,” I say and even I can tell it’s petulant. He snorts and I outright glare instead of scowl.

“You don’t do random hookups. Guys have to pass an FBI background check, the friend check, the sister check, and then some kind of weird and rigorous personal checklist I swear you have locked up in your diary somewhere before you’ll sleep with him.”

“So? There’s nothing wrong with having high standards. Or being careful with your heart,” I snap as he scoops out the ice cream. “Hot fudge.”

“I’m working on it. I haven’t forgotten how you like it,” he says, ignoring my snippy tone. “So, since Johanna was pestering you only two days ago about getting laid, I think it’s safe to assume that you would not yet have a man…”

He trails off and smiles at me as my scowl deepens. “Oh wow. Hold on.”

Before I can blink, he’s got his phone out and has snapped a picture of me. “That’s gotta be the Katnissiest scowl I’ve ever seen.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I ask and grab one bowl, only for him to snatch it back.

“Hot fudge,” he reminds me and turns to get it out of the fridge. “It means I’m using that as your profile pic on my phone from now on.”

“You’re lucky you came with ice cream,” I mutter.

[mrspeetamellark]

Blush pink aesthetic

Edit by @mandelion82

[archersandsunsets]

Monday, Friday, November (Fanfic Asks Time)

monday: do you struggle with the ‘boring’ parts of writing?

yes. i mostly have this One Scene in my head, try to get to it, and never do because i get caught up in the “boring” stuff. but i also don’t want a fic with no substance, so i build whole narratives. oop.

friday: most self-indulgent fic you have ever posted?

probably Walk The Line, honestly. even if i never finish it, it’s one of the best first chapters i’ve written, and it just kinda has... everything i want in a modern AU... best friends to lovers... hard topics... faith... yeah.

november: do you have any rituals or requirements for getting in the mood for writing?

playlists. pinterest. rambling to people about what i’m going to write, talking things out.

fanfic questions themed around time

[everlarkficexchange]

Prompt: Katniss's family owns a Mexican restaurant. Peeta and his friends come in, and he's immediately captivated by her. He keeps coming back, hoping to win her over, but he makes the mistake of inadvertently insulting her/her family. Can he make amends? Will she ever go out with him?

Thanks for the prompt, @mandelion82

Everlark Fic Exchange 2021. Prompt 112

Inspired by this prompt? Tell us about it.

If the prompt is 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 28 to April 11.

Want to share a prompt with us? Click here. We’ll be open for submissions from Feb 21 to March 7

Want to know more? Click here.

For an updated list of available prompts click here.

[seasonsofeverlark]

W I L L Y O U M A R R Y M E?

Author:  @mandelion82​ 

Prompt: ❤️ Day prompt “We met in optometry school 5 years ago. He liked me from the first day of class and wouldn’t leave me alone after that"  An Everlark proposal story…on Valentine’s Day 💍 [submitted by @mrspeetamellark​] 

Rating:  T 

Author’s Note: Trigger Warning- Mention of physical abuse.  Edit by @mrspeetamellark​. ________________

I’m not an impressive person, not by any means.  I’m not pretty or outgoing or particularly smart.  I’m knowledgeable about my areas of interest, but only because I study, a lot.  I’m going to be an optometrist, like my father.  This was always part of my plan, ever since I was able to formulate plans for the future in my mind.  I wanted to help people, as he did.    

One thing I never expected, or really wanted, was to get married.  I never thought I’d be one of those blushing, smiling brides, glowing as she floated down the aisle in her wedding dress.  And I certainly never expected to be proposed to on Valentine’s Day.  But here I am.      

And him.    

We met in optometry school 5 years ago.  He liked me from the first day of class and wouldn’t leave me alone after that.  I smile, remembering it. 

There was no reason for him to ever notice me; I was just the geek in the back.  But Peeta, he saw me.  He zeroed in on me immediately and came to sit by me.  Not too close (which I appreciated), but not too far, either.  And the first day of class, when I spoke up, correcting the professor, he was the one to jump to my side.  

And since then, he’s been my ally, my friend, my lover, and so much more… 

——-

Five Years Ago…

We met in our second semester of Optometry school, in Biochemistry for Optometry, my bread and butter class.  

That day, I was one of the first to arrive, and I headed directly to the back, right corner of the large lecture hall.  I chose, what I thought to be, the prime spot‒not too close to the windows, so as not to be too cold, and right next to the stairs, so I could easily make my way out when class ended.  

As I settled into my seat at the long, white table, more students filtered in.  I’d just gotten situated when I saw him.  Stocky build.  Medium height.  Ashy blond hair falling in waves across his forehead.  He looked up at me and smiled.  And in that moment, I panicked. 

To scowl at him seemed too harsh, but I wasn’t the type to smile at random strangers.  I think my expression came out as something of a grimace, and he seemed confused, but that didn’t stop him from making his way toward me.  

I tensed up when he came close, silently praying he didn’t sit next to me.  He didn’t.  He sat two seats down.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  But I couldn’t help noticing him situating himself in his seat, pulling a notebook, pen, tablet, and the biochemistry text out of his orange backpack.  I toyed with the end of my braid, watching him.  He looked over, and my eyes shot away‒but not before catching the deep shade of blue of his eyes.  

Until class started, I occupied myself with preparing my own materials, if only to not be tempted to sneak a peek at the guy beside me, who I could tell kept glancing over at me.  Why?  Did he find me amusing to look at?     

Class began, and I focused on the professor, who, after a brief introduction started passing around syllabi for the class.  Then he returned to his desk and began taking roll.   

Professor Latier got to me.  “Everdeen. Katniss,” he called out, adjusting his glasses and squinting to get a better look at me in the back.  Apparently, my professor needed an adjustment to his prescription.       

“Present.”  I raised my hand slightly.  

“Pretty name,” whispered the blond guy. 

Well, that wasn’t usually the response I got.  

“Thanks,” I whispered back, pushing my glasses higher up on the bridge of my nose and fixing my eyes out ahead.

“Like the plant?” he asked.    

“Yes,” I replied, the corners of my lips tilting.  He knew about my namesake.      

The professor went down the roster in alphabetical order.  The whole time, I could feel the blond guy’s eyes on me, but I ignored him.      

When he got to ‘Mellark. Peeta,’ the guy beside me spoke.  “Present.”  

I turned slightly and whispered, “Like the bread?” 

He snickered.  “Spelled differently.”  He proceeded to write something down in his notebook.  He tore a corner off and slipped it over to me.  Passing notes?  Seriously?   

He’d written down his name‒Peeta Mellark.  And he’d drawn a heart beside it. 

This guy… 

With a sigh, I tucked my braid back over my shoulder and wrote my name down, no heart beside it.  I tore the strip off and slipped it to him.  I caught his grin as he folded it, neatly, and stuck it in his pocket.  

What the…?    

Okay, he was a bit creepy, but not altogether un-cute.  Alright, definitely cute.  Perhaps a little weird, though aren’t we all in some way?  

“Think you’ll forget?” I quietly asked without looking at him, wondering why he’d decided to save that slip of paper. 

“Nope” was all he said.  I made the mistake of looking at him then, and he gave me the brightest smile I’d ever seen.  It made my breath hitch. 

Professor Latier asked that we open our books to the first chapter.  We were diving right in. 

Peeta flipped open his book, but I noticed he wasn’t following along, but rather, he was doodling on his syllabus.  I couldn’t help but be curious about what he was drawing, though I didn’t need to be for much longer.  A minute or two later, he pushed it over to show me.  He’d drawn a katniss plant.  It was pretty good, too.  I stared at it a moment then looked over; I gave him a little nod and a half-smile and slid it back.  

He grinned. 

The professor was droning on, and I was doing my best to pay attention.  I was definitely interested in the subject matter, but I couldn’t help but be distracted by Peeta Mellark’s lack of attention.  And I wondered what else he was drawing and/or writing.  He’d been scribbling furiously, but I was fairly certain it wasn’t notes.      

Finally, I gave.  “Shouldn’t you pay attention?” 

I inwardly cringed as soon as I said it.  Why should I care if he didn’t care about the class and ended up failing due to lack of attention?  And it just made me seem like a pest.  

Peeta was seemingly unbothered, however.  He shrugged his broad shoulders, and without looking up from the paper, tapped the side of his head with a finger.  “I’m taking it all in.  I can multitask.“   

I frowned hard at the side of his blond head.  Oh, one of those.  If that were the case, and he was one of those special people who could absorb anything and everything with very little effort, I envied him.  If he didn’t care about the course he (or his parents, most likely) was paying good money for, then I despised him a little bit.      

“Besides, drawing helps me concentrate,” he added, the dimple in his cheek twitching. 

“Oh.”  

Just then, we both turned at the sound of a loud throat clear.  From the front of the classroom, our professor was staring up at us, his arms tightly folded.  

Damn it.  Because of Peeta, I’d gotten into trouble, or at least called unnecessary negative attention to myself. 

“Sorry, Prof. Latier,” chimed Peeta jovially as if it was nothing.  Contritely, I lowered my head.  

Professor Latier didn’t linger on the disruption, though, only went right back to the lesson.  He asked several pre-examination questions about metabolic processes, and I answered the majority of them, myself.  Could have answered them all if the professor hadn’t moved on to give another student a chance.  It wasn’t like I was sucking up to make up for chit-chatting or trying to prove anything; I just knew the answers.  So, why shouldn’t I give them if I had them? 

Against my better judgment, I glanced over, and Peeta was grinning to himself.  Probably thinking I was the biggest geek he’d ever seen…and to a good-looking guy like him, who seemed to have little interest in class, that was probably a bad thing.  

The professor then brought up a diagram on the smartboard.  “Oh,” I uttered to myself before sticking my hand up in the air.  The moment Professor Latier focused on me, I spoke. “Professor, your diagram seems to be mislabeled.” 

The middle-aged professor���s forehead wrinkled up, and he looked at me as though I had lobsters crawling out of my ears.

I cleared my throat, preparing to explain, but I didn’t get the chance.  

“She’s right,” Peeta spoke up from beside me.  “The cornea and the lens are reversed.”  

Oh, so, he was paying attention.  And he’s actually smart.  And he backed me up.  Not like it was necessary, but…it was nice, in a way.  

“Good eye, Katniss.”  I fought against smiling at Peeta’s cheesy joke, but then, he winked at me, and my cheeks flushed.  

Heaven help me, I might like this weirdo…  

Meanwhile, Professor Latier had turned to examine the diagram, leaning ever closer.  After a couple of seconds, he spun back around, the corners of his lips turning up.  “So, they are.  Thank you.”  He went on to note in his gravelly yet soft-spoken voice that there was always a flaw in the system. 

Alright, so maybe Professor Latier would have noticed the flaw in the diagram eventually, and maybe I shouldn’t have opened my mouth, but at least I wasn’t the only one to say so.  Thing was, in a matter of minutes, I’d gotten myself confused. I couldn’t tell if Peeta had been sticking up for me or if he was just piggybacking off me for the chance to show off.    

After class, I gathered my things and headed out without so much as a glance at Peeta, but I soon became keenly aware that he was right behind me.  I spun around quickly, nearly knocking into him.  He put his hands out in the air as if to catch me.  I stepped back. 

“Are you following me?”  Okay, maybe that was over the line.  But at least I didn’t demand to know what in the hell he thought he was doing.  

Peeta rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.  “No, Katniss.  I was just…” 

“What?” I asked, raising my voice slightly.  

He pointed to the classroom behind me.  “Going in there?” 

“Uh, yeah…”  I observed him suspiciously, gripping the strap of my messenger bag tighter.   

“Well, we’re going to the same place.”  

Oh.  

How humiliating…  

“Sorry, I‒” 

“It’s no big deal, Katniss,” he motioned with a hand, “after you.” 

Lowering my head slightly, I walked into the classroom and began heading toward the back again.  Over my shoulder, I noticed Peeta going off to the other side of the room, his head hung.  I stopped and stood rooted to the spot a moment, contemplating.  He looked like a whipped puppy, and I just couldn’t take it, so I called out to him.  He turned to look at me.

“You…you don’t have to sit way over there.  You can, you know, sit by me…if you want.”  Peeta grinned broadly, and my eyes flitted off to the side. 

“Okay, thanks,” said he, and I bit my lip lightly as he followed me to the back row.  It felt a little like having a doting boyfriend.  I’d never had a real boyfriend before, and even though I’d only just met this guy, it was kind of nice… 

——

The next few days were much the same in the two classes Peeta and I shared.  Peeta would draw and occasionally slip me little notes.  I would take class notes, and occasionally, he did, too.  We walked to classes together, and once, we grabbed a coffee at the coffee cart.  Well, I had coffee; he had tea, no sugar.  

But then one day, another blonde showed up in Biochemistry and sat between us.  Delly Cartwright was her name.  She’d been sick the past few days, so this would be her first class. And oh, if I thought Peeta had been friendly that first day, Delly was way worse.  At least Peeta didn’t talk my ear off or want to become best friends immediately.  He gave me my space, somewhat.   

What was, surprisingly, worse than Delly pestering me was when she got friendly with Peeta.  She became fascinated by his doodles (and by him, I was pretty sure), and she’d lean in close‒too close‒to see.  And Peeta let her.  It wasn’t like I had any right to be, but her closeness to Peeta caused a pit to form in my stomach.   

I didn’t know why I was upset.  I should be relieved that Peeta had someone else to bother in class, likewise with Delly, but oddly, I sort of missed having all of Peeta’s attention directed at me. 

When Peeta offered to share his notes with Delly (not that he had many), I shot him a sour look.  He must have noticed how needlessly angry I seemed because he leaned forward, looking past Delly and over at me, his brow wrinkled up in confusion, his lips forming a silent question. 

I didn’t give him an answer, and after, I hightailed it out after class before he and Delly had the chance to catch up.  

—–

The Optometry program at Panem College was a small one, and so, Peeta, Delly, and I ended up in a lot of the same classes, not always at the same time.  Peeta and I only shared the two.  Delly and I were in three together, including the one with Peeta.  I couldn’t help but wonder whether Delly and Peeta shared any other classes together‒probably–and if so, I wondered how cozy they were getting in those classes when I wasn’t there.  

But I was trying not to think about it.  I had no right to be jealous over a guy I barely knew and a girl who was much better suited to his sunny personality than I was.  They were perfect for each other, I told myself, bitterly.  And with that, I decided to carry on with my hermit ways.  Only, somehow (and don’t ask me how), I ended up making friends.  

I had a small group of friends, consisting of:  Madge Undersee, beautiful, blonde, and popular‒basically, the female Peeta‒Johanna Mason, the anti-Madge, dark-haired and abrasive, but smart as a whip, and Rue, petite, dark-haired and skinned, sweet, and witty.  I also occasionally saw a guy I was friends with as a kid, Gale Hawthorne, but he wasn’t in our program.  

My group of friends, sans Gale, decided to form a study group, since we were all first years and taking the same courses, and one day, Madge decided it would be a good idea to invite Peeta and Delly to join.  It wasn’t like a vote was taken, so how could I say no?  And even if I did speak out against it, what was I going to say?  No, we can’t study with them because I kind of like Peeta and sort of hate Delly because she’s too friendly with Peeta… 

Well, Madge and Rue would have understood and been sympathetic, and Johanna would have either told me to get over myself or to go for it with Peeta and screw Delly (using more colorful language, of course), but I didn’t want to hear any of that. 

As for Peeta, he’d been trying to make amends, and the poor guy probably didn’t even know for what.  He’d been showing up a lot in places I frequented; it was almost like he knew my routine and was doing it on purpose.  If not, it was extremely coincidental.  I should be put off by his behavior, but Peeta was the kind of guy one couldn’t help but like.  

And that was the entire problem‒I did like him.  I’d thought about it a lot over the past month-and-a half. 

But I didn’t know what to do with that or how to deal with his closeness to Delly, which made it hard to be cordial to him when he ‘accidentally’ bumped into me and tried to strike up a conversation.  I managed to keep him at bay, though; that is, until he joined the study group and had my number from the group messages.  He didn’t abuse it, per se, but he’d sent more than a few messages just to me.  Most of them were casual greetings and wishes that I’d have a nice day, things like that.  And I returned the sentiments.  We kept it superficial, but I suspected he had a lot more to say. 

I supposed I did, too, but I wasn’t good at saying things, so I decided to let my actions speak.  I thought it might be a good opportunity to express some things to Peeta when our group suggested a night out at the local campus bar, but it didn’t go at all as I’d planned…      

—–

What broke the ice between Peeta and me after nearly a week of not speaking was, of all things, a practice examination in our Introduction to Primary Care class.

Peeta was a whiz in that class.  He was great at patient care, and his interpersonal skills, in general, were top-notch.  I was sure he was going to make an excellent doctor someday.  

We were partnered up that day to perform mock eye exams on one another, using some borrowed equipment from the lab.  I decided to go first, even though the idea of having to be so close while examining his eyes with an ophthalmoscope made my palms sweat.  But I kept my composure and worked through our checklist.  

“Any problems with your vision lately?” I asked, moving down the sheet.  

He paused before saying, “No, I’m good.”

“Peeta, you’re supposed to make something up, so I can diagnose and offer a treatment.” 

“Okay, well, there is one…” 

“What is it?” 

“I don’t see enough of you.” 

My entire body heated up, whereas, I was frozen solid by the intense look in his now darker blue eyes.    

“That’s‒that’s not a vision problem,” I stammered.   

“I think it is.  Why have you been avoiding me?” 

Always so direct.  

“Peeta,” I spoke his name sternly, completely ignoring his question.  “You’re supposed to use something on the list.” 

He sighed.  “Fine.  Dry eyes.” 

“That’s better.  Um…”  I glanced down at my hands, and an awkward silence passed.  What was wrong with me?  This was an easy one.  

Naturally, Peeta was the one to make it better.  That was one of his best qualities‒he wasn’t a bitter person.  And he put others’ feelings before his own.  

“So, Doctor Everdeen, what should I do about my dry eyes?”  He gave me an encouraging smile.  And I smiled back, appreciatively.  

“Well, Mr. Mellark, I can give you some moistening drops.  Do you wear contacts?” 

“No, these irises are all natural, sweetheart.”   

Natural and gorgeous.  God, his eyes were gorgeous…  

“I see.”  I swallowed thickly.  “I just wondered because…because they’re very…blue.”  What the hell?            

Peeta gave a throaty chuckle. “Yeah, they’re blue.”  

I rubbed my temple in self-exasperation before digressing.  “Well, um, aside from the dryness, they look healthy.  And you’re young, so I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about.”  I returned to the checklist.  “Oh, but you probably shouldn’t call your doctor ‘sweetheart’,” I muttered.  

“I call a lot of people ‘sweetheart,’ sweetheart.”  Peeta smirked.  

I rolled my eyes because I knew that wasn’t true, or at least, I hoped not.  Somehow, I didn’t like the thought of him calling other girls that, even though it wasn’t exactly a favorite term of endearment of mine.  He winked at me then, and I shook my head at him.   

“Your turn,” announced Peeta once I’d finished.  “I want to examine your eyes now.”  He led me over to the equipment, and we waited our turn to use the phoropter and retinal camera.    

I took a seat and remained as still as I could while Peeta examined my eyes.  Admittedly, it wasn’t easy, especially when his knee kept brushing mine and his warm, minty breath fanned my face.  

Not to mention, he was taking his sweet time… 

“What is it?  Do you see something?” I urged. 

“Yeah, I do…,” he said softly, still looking through the machine.   

“What?  Infection?  Couldn’t be macular degeneration…” 

Peeta pulled away from the machine to look at me directly.  “Of course not, Katniss.”  Leaning back in his chair, he chuckled.  “You’re way too young for that.” 

“Then…?” 

“Your eyes are perfectly healthy, Ms. Everdeen,” he told me in his fake doctor voice, which was basically his voice, albeit slightly deeper.  He was such a dummy sometimes, but he made me smile, nevertheless.  “What I was going to say was…,” he went on, “that what I see are the most unique, beautiful pair of eyes I’ve ever come across.” 

My lips parted.  I should tell him that that certainly wasn’t an appropriate thing for my optometrist to say. But I didn’t.  Instead, we stared into each other’s eyes until our professor called time (it was only a minute or so, though it felt much longer) and transitioned us into another activity.  

—–

I couldn’t stop thinking about Peeta and how he’d said I had unique, beautiful eyes.  I kept replaying the moment over and over.  As if Peeta knew I was thinking of him, he called me that night.  

I answered, and we ended up having a two-hour conversation.  We talked about practically everything under the sun.  He told me about his painting and his baking.  I told him about my interest in plants and how I liked to sing, both cultivated by my father.  And yes, I told him about my father’s death. 

I shared a lot with him, including things I’d only ever told my little sister, and some no one knew.  I told him all about my family, about the downward spiral my mother took when my father passed away.  And he told me about his mother’s unrealistic expectations for me and about how she used to beat him when he was younger.  It made me feel awful and insanely protective of him.  I never wanted to see him hurt again, which was all the more reason I knew I should pull away.  I could never be good for him; I could never be what he needed.  

Oh, but how badly I wanted to be…   

—–

Although we’d had a really good talk several nights ago, Peeta still wasn’t satisfied with the way things were.  And neither was I.  So, when he caught up to me after class several days later and tugged me off into a corridor, I decided to be upfront with him.  

“Katniss, I know you’re still upset, and there’s, clearly, something you’re not telling me.”  

I glanced away, still working up the courage to admit how petty I was being. 

“Please, just tell me what I did.”  He slid his hands up my arms, and I shivered.  “Is this about what happened at the bar?”  His blue eyes pleaded, even looked a bit watery.  Was he truly so upset over me ignoring him? 

“Why do you even care, Peeta?”  I sighed.  He looked confused.  “I mean, you have Delly…” 

“Is that what this is about?”  He ran a hand through his curls.  “Delly isn’t you, Katniss.  And she’s just my friend.” 

“What am I, then?” 

“Well, you’re…you’re…let’s just say, you’re not someone I want to be friends with.”  

I flinched. 

“What I mean is…not just friends,” he clarified.  

I shouldn’t be as surprised as I was right then.  I knew Peeta liked me, or at least, I should.  But I’d somehow convinced myself that he didn’t like me as much as he liked Delly, or as much as I liked him.  

And then there was the bar incident, which I still felt completely foolish over… 

“It’s not just that,” I tentatively began.  “There’s also the bar thing…” 

Peeta squeezed my arms.  “Yeah, can you explain to me what happened?  Because I still don’t understand why you got so upset.” 

I thought back, feeling utterly ridiculous about the whole thing.  

“Well, you…”  I sucked in a breath.  “You told me I was beautiful.” 

Peeta pressed his lips together.  “You are beautiful, Katniss.  And I think it goes without saying, but I meant that as a compliment.” 

“I know, but…”  How could I put this?  “I wasn’t myself that night, Peeta.  The girl you thought was beautiful was not me.  You liked dressed-up me with makeup and no glasses, not the real me.” 

The cruel irony of this whole thing was that I’d done it all for him.  I’d worn a dress, which I hated; I’d worn my hair down, and I’d allowed my roommate to put powder and blush on me and line my eyes and darken my lids for a smoky look.  I’d even gotten a temporary pair of contacts, which after twenty or thirty tries, I managed to put in my eyes.  They watered furiously, and I immediately regretted it, but I did it. 

And I’d gotten exactly what I was seeking that night, for Peeta to notice me and think I looked beautiful.  But it didn’t make me as happy as I thought it would.  

A wave of understanding seemed to wash over Peeta’s face.  “Katniss.”  He leaned in closer.  “Do you know why I acted like such an idiot the first day I met you?  Well, ever since then, really…”  He gave a bitter little laugh.  “It was because I liked you.” 

I remained silent.   

“At first, I thought you couldn’t stand me, but then, I thought maybe you were just shy.  I’ll admit that I started to worry for a while there that I was annoying you, and I’d planned on leaving you alone…”

“I didn’t want you to leave me alone,” I interjected, and Peeta looked deep into my eyes.  “I liked you, too.” 

He flashed that pearly smile of his.  

“When I said you were beautiful, I meant it,” he continued.  “But I didn’t just think you were beautiful because you were dressed up that night.  Clothes and hair and contacts don’t change who you are to me, Katniss, or how I see you.  And to me, you always were and always will be beautiful, inside and out.”   

A light gasp escaped me, and unable to stand it any longer, I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him against me, pressing my lips to his.  Softly, deftly, his mouth slanted over mine while his hand went to my braid, gently gripping it and running it between his fingers.  He wrapped his arms around my waist, deepening our kiss and pressing me up against the brick wall. 

We traded kisses and caresses for several minutes before breaking apart.  When we did, we were both faintly panting, and my glasses had actually fogged up from the heat we’d created.  I took them off and began cleaning them with my shirt.  Before I could put them back on, Peeta moved into me, touching his forehead to mine.   

“Katniss?” he breathed.  

“Yeah?” 

“Would you…go on a date with me?” 

“Yes,” I answered without even thinking about it.  

Peeta pressed his lips firmly against mine once more, and I smiled into our kiss, knowing for certain that this was the start of something big…    

Four Years, 10 Months Later… 

“Have a seat, Ms. Everdeen,” commanded Peeta.  

Not that I didn’t love when Peeta went into doctor mode, particularly in the bedroom, but I couldn’t figure out why he’d called me down to his office today, insistent on giving me an eye exam.  

“What’s this all about, Peeta?” 

“Just a routine exam, my love.”  

“Alright.”  I’d do just about anything for the man standing before me, so of course, I’d comply. 

Peeta helped me into the chair like the gentleman he was then delicately removed my glasses.

“Why do I have to take them off, Peeta?  Don’t you want to check my prescription?”  

“Well, yes, but I’m going to use two charts today,” replied he.  “One with your glasses and one without.”  

He performed exam 1 in the usual manner, aside from stealing a couple of kisses, and then he gave my glasses back.  He shut out the lights while I put them on, and I heard some shuffling.  Changing the chart, I assumed.  

He turned the lights on.  “Now read this chart, Ms. Everdeen. With your glasses on.” 

The first line was a huge, black W. 

“Okay, W.” 

“Good.” 

“I” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“L” 

“L”

“Y’”

“O”

“U” 

Will you?  

I continued reading down his chart as Peeta nodded along, smiling. 

Oh, my god.  

I slapped a hand over my mouth.  

“Were you able to read the chart in full, Ms. Everdeen?”  Peeta asked, approaching me.  

Dumbly, I nodded.  

“Good,” said he.  “You see, I was in love with you from that very first day in optometry school. When I walked in and saw you, it may sound cheesy, but my heart stopped.  Literally stopped.  I wanted to sit by you so badly, but you were scowling at me.” 

I laugh-cried.  

“But I’m a stubborn guy, so I sat nearby, anyway.”  Peeta knelt in front of me, placing both hands on my thighs.  “My love for you has only grown since that first day, and I can’t imagine life without you.  I actually have two questions for you today.  I want you to be my partner in work and in life, so I’m asking…will you go into practice with me?  And more importantly, as the chart read…”  He dug into one of the pockets of his white coat and pulled out a small, black, velvet box.  He opened it up, presenting me with a pearl engagement ring.  “Katniss Everdeen, will you marry me?”    

With tears shining in my eyes and the biggest smile on my lips, I gave him two yes’s, and I kissed him.  

A/N:  Thanks for reading!  I’ll most likely be posting an extended version of this story in the near future on A03 as well as possibly an M-rated outtake or additional chapter.  

[ombradellaluna]

Love your art, your aesthetics, your taste in movies/shows/books, your fashion posts, and your blog in general! Always love seeing your posts. Thank you!

Awwwww thank you @mandelion82 I’m glad you like my posts! I'm posting more pics of cute and aesthetic stuff  now becauseI need to cheer myself up a little! I'm glad they're good for someone else's mood too. (And about the clothes, I would like to use as inspiration for some future drawings)

Hugs you tightly 

[jlalafics]

Just read "What Makes the World Go Round," and I'm in love with it. It's definitely made it to my all-time favorite fics list. I'll comment on A03 but just wanted to let you know. P.S. The ending struck a chord with me. :) Thank you!

Thank you love! I really loved writing WMTWGR because of the music and of course, the friendship that built between Everlark.

I’m so glad you enjoyed it too!

[hutchhitched]

1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10 (Sorry! Couldn't pick) End of Year Fic Writers Asks

Oh, boy! You’re amazing. Thank you for asking about my work! (I’m sticking to Everlark with a tiny bit of Stucky thrown in.) <3

I had to go back and figure out what I’ve written this year, and it’s hard to choose, but here we go.

1. What’s your personal favourite thing you wrote this year? Too Familiar, I don’t think it’s a secret that this is my most popular and controversial story. It took forever to finish it, but I’m really happy with how it wrapped. It’s going to take some time for anything to surpass it in my mind.

3. Which of your fics was most different from what you usually write? Probably On the First Day and So On since I don’t typically write lyrics or poetry and Only One K, since I don’t typically write stories inspired by other fanfiction. I enjoyed creating both, though.

4. Which of your fics this year was most successful? Definitely Too Familiar, but that’s not suprising. Maybe This Summer and Hate F*ck the Lawyer also got quite a bit of attention.

5. Which of your fics do you wish was more successful? I think Fallen is better than the attention it got, but maybe that’s because I wrote it with a little more whimsy than normal. I’m not necessarily known for sweet fics, but it is one. Also, Screw West. I adore that story.

6. What’s your favourite piece of dialogue you wrote this year? “Is that shitty enough for you? You seem to think I’m the devil anyway.”

“Okay, Beelzebub. Go for it.”

~from Hate F*ck the Lawyer

(Also, you know the one for Stucky. ~from Bucky Barnes Goes to College and Finds His Inner Nerd

“I knew I loved you for a reason.”

“My good looks and cheerful personality. I’m sure of it,” Steve tossed over his shoulder.

“More like your tight ass and wifey skills.”) 10. What, if anything, are you going to try to do differently in your writing in the new year? You mean besides finish stuff? That’s really pretty much it. I’m going to actively attempt to finish off my WIPs and stop creating more. I mean, I have plenty already, right? I’m also going to attempt to meet deadlines (I say as I eye the four @everlarkficexchange stories I still haven’t posted for the 2020 collection.)

Happy 2021, y’all!

[thgdiscovery]

I’ll Show Him

Author:  @mandelion82 (JHsgf82)

Summary:  Modern AU (with canon parallels). Everlark are married, and Peeta’s birthday is approaching. Peeta says something dumb, which hurts Katniss’s feelings, and although he tells her he didn’t mean it, Katniss sets out to prove him wrong in a romantic way.

Rating:  T 

OTP: Everlark

Read Here