Apologies to @laurabaptista for the short delay on your gift. We hope you had a wonderful birthday and celebrated in style! To keep the party going, @ally147writes has written a story just for you!
AN: Happy birthday to the prompter! I
hope you had a wonderful day :) This story was inspired by my own beagle
adoption a few weeks ago. The story didn’t end up quite as cutesy as I’d hoped
for a single parents!Everlark fic, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway.
Unbeta’d. All errors are my own.
Peeta’s run out of excuses.
The questions have been building up
for almost a year, since one of Charlie’s classmates brought theirs in for
show-and-tell. Peeta miscounted the kid’s parents’ orders of bread rolls and
cookies for a month after that in thanks for the non-stop barrage of questions
that had been invited into his life:
Happy Independence Day––An Everlark and Toastbabies One-shot
Instead of working on my stupid fic that’s going nowhere I decided to write a little Independence Day Everlark and toastbabies one shot. Unbetaed.
He sat atop his broad shoulders, squealing with delight, those round, chubby cheeks illuminated by the necklace of alternating colors Peeta couldn’t resist buying for him earlier at the parade. I chuckled at how his little head rested on the top of Peeta’s, their wild blond curls identical to each other.
I watched her twirl and dance down the sidewalk in front of Peeta, a sparkler held tight in each small hand. She had insisted I tie the end of her two braids with red, white, and blue ribbons.
I had fallen behind, insisting that Peeta begin walking the kids home as I threw away trash and stuffed our blankets in the backpack. After reassuring him several times I’d catch up with them he was finally dragged away by Rye’s pleas to be picked up, insisting his legs were tired.
Now I had caught up with them and I felt my face stretched wide with a satisfied grin. The day had been perfect, and I was looking forward to some quiet with Peeta after the loud fireworks display we’d just watched. Slipping my hand into Peeta’s, his blue eyes met mine. He looked startled at first, still not used to my silent tread even after all the years of me showing up without a sound. His shining eyes softened as they gazed into mine, and I rested my head on his shoulder as we walked. Willow sang a goofy song that her and her neighbor friends had come up with as she skipped down the sidewalk, and Peeta and I laughed softly.
“She has your voice,” Peeta murmured.
I simply smiled up at him, and he placed a gentle chaste kiss to my forehead. It was then I heard the small snores that drifted down from above Peeta’s head.
“And he has your love for sleep,” Peeta chuckled, gently lifting Rye from his shoulders and shifting him into the crook of his strong arm, careful not to wake him.
We rejoined hands and I squeezed Peeta’s while beaming at Rye who’s head rested on Peeta’s solid chest in the exact spot where mine always laid before falling to sleep.
I joked, “But he got his little snoring from you.”
Peeta moved his hand from mine to pinch my ass and I squealed.
“Shh, Katniss, you don’t want to wake our little hunter,” Peeta chided, eyes twinkling with that boyish mischief he still possessed.
I gave him a scowl, rolling my eyes playfully, before intertwining our hands again.
Someone’s backyard fireworks went off, and I memorized the way Peeta’s face lit up with it.
“Happy Independence Day, Mr. Mellark,” I grinned up at him.
“Happy Independence Day, Mrs. Mellark,” He beamed, down at me.
To @norbertsmom for all of the funny hijinks our pets do so does Katniss and Peeta’s beloved Buttercup. Based off this picture a little Fluffy ‘G’
PS: un beta’d all mistakes are mine…enjoy…
Nothing in the house seemed right. Katniss pushed the chair to the side in the baby’s room. She stood back and looked at the nook. Her hands settled on her hips. Her nose wrinkled, she wanted a sitting area in the room, but no matter where she put the chair it didn’t sit well with her.
Katniss put her back against the chair and moved across the room near the window, and then moved away carefully considering it, she took a small table and pushed it across the floor next to the chair. She pushed her hair away from her face, “Mother of pearl!”
It still wasn’t right. She rubbed her back, her belly was huge. She was in her ninth month and the urge to clean and move furniture had finally kicked the paralyzing fear she carried with her when she felt her baby move.
“UGHH,” Katniss muttered, her ire building, she’d changed the entire house.
Her fingernails tapped on the pant leg of her overalls. These days nothing fit except and absolutely nothing was comfortable except for dresses or Peeta’s painting overalls.
The clock in the house rang. It was five in the evening, Peeta was due at any minute and she had to get this right if she didn’t she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. She cocked her head to the side, she wanted the chair and table to face the window before Peeta got home but she couldn’t get it right.
It drove Peeta crazy to move the furniture around, but he didn’t complain because he knew she’d do it herself. If he found her moving furniture again, she was sure her patient husband was going to blow a gasket.
The problem was Katniss couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop cleaning their home, Katniss tried to explain it to Peeta but he was firm on her resting. All because of one doctor who said she needed to make sure she stayed healthy due to not having a spleen. He didn’t want her to use the heavier cleaning products for fear the overexposure would cause her harm. But she’d found a way.