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mendesficsxbombay · 4 years

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loving you is the antidote | s.m

A/N: I wrote most of this with two badly injured fingers, but when creativity strikes, it strikes! his name hasn't been mentioned in this fic... at all. hope you like it!

requested fluff from this prompt list

17: mmm… you’re warm

18: you’re so cute when you’re sleepy like this

19: I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a hot drink and someone to cuddle with

“And up next ladies and gentlemen is a very special guest, she’s starring in Golden - hailing from India and known over the world is a critically acclaimed actress with awards lining up longer than the line of fans waiting to see her, and let me just tell you that line wrapped around the block!” James Corden jokes. The audience goes wild as he announces her name and she walks out onstage, the cheers nearly deafening as she crosses the room, all smiles and poise in her red bottoms, taking a seat opposite the host’s desk.

“Can I just say something we start, you were the most requested guest on the show after BTS, and there was a damn near riot for the last two days for people who wanted to catch a seat here!” He exclaims motioning to the audience and a faint blush rises to your cheeks at the attention of the audience cheering and hooting for you again.

“Hey, can’t compete with BTS!” She grinned back at him, “I don’t know if everyone knew this already, but I love those guys! They’re taking over the world aren’t they? And, can I just say something, too? I’ve loved the Late Late Show since the first time One Direction were invited as guests and that was a long time ago…”

“Wow, a fan is amongst us, that’s so nice to know! But enough about bands, let’s talk acting,” He moves to hold up a poster of her upcoming film, the sole reason for her to be on the show, “Golden comes out in just a few weeks, and from what we’ve seen so far it’s going to be everyone’s new favourite romcom very soon! Tell us a bit about the film!”

“I’m so excited, I can’t put it into words - Golden was like, the movie of my dreams, it was a story that I always wanted to see on a screen but playing a part in a movie like that was really just unbelievable,” she dishes out, filled to the brim with love for her upcoming project, “It’s a story about new love, the whole process of falling for someone and the new feelings that come with it and how different people address it differently, I think there’s something everyone can take away something from it - there’s something for everyone.”

“You said it was your dream project! Really?”

“Yes it was! I think when it comes to love stories we tend to see most things in black and white, but it’s high time we told stories that address the grey areas, too, you know? Like there’s going to be insecurities, there’s going to be doubts and second thoughts but whoever you’re in love with, you need to fight through problems and you’ll only come out stronger. A great love story isn’t the one where things get hard and fall into place immediately after, it’s the one that’s seen it all, it’s the one that’s worn in and still stands as it was the day it started - so I think it was a really important project for all of us to be part of,” she replies sincerely, nothing but pure honesty and now a little coyness dripping from her words, “And I hope it’s an important film for you, too,” she shyly looks over to the audience, which, listening intently so far, now responds with more hooting and clapping.

“Is there anything from your personal life that made you feel closer to your character? I mean we all do have doubts here and there but I don’t think someone as like you would have to go through that” He adds, and while she knows this is just to butter her up the crowd’s reactions are varying affirmatives. When James sees her shake her head in disagreement he quickly speaks up, “It’s literally impossible, I mean, you’ve been titled most desirable woman in Europe and you’re not even European!” He’s exasperated in a way she’s seen before, but only through her television screen. A light spark is felt in her chest when she realises that this may only be one late night show of many, but she’s finally ticking off her childhood dreams.

“Alright I’m gonna be honest, I’ve never really had very serious long term relationships before so I thought I was pretty much immune to these feelings but there was this one incident that really stood out for me - and even if it did or didn’t help me while filming it taught me an important lesson so - would you guys wanna know? I don’t wanna bore you or anything…” she baited the audience, her eyes glinting with mischief. She didn’t plan on giving out any details if she were being honest, they’d been so good so far but this seemed appropriate. She found it to the correct time to show off how mature and amazing and sensitive he is, and how lucky she was to have fallen in love with him.

“Ah! Do tell!” The host leans forward, propping his chin on his hands as he was ready for story time.

“Well, this was in London last year. We had basically set up camp in the city for the movie for about… 7 months, I think. I had a few days off between schedules, but there was this one day that went really bad.”

She’d slipped and hurt her ankle right before leaving her apartment that morning. Her favourite jacket was nowhere to be found and she’d had a fight with her agent by mid day. The last few days of filming before she got a break were taxing, mentally and physically, but the exhaustion was now catching up to her. Whether she liked it or not, her day was nowhere near good and she hated to have to whine about it to anyone.

“This boy I really, really liked was also in London at the time, and he - well he,” is a multi platinum selling artist that tours the world and plays shows for tens of thousands of people every night, “travels a lot for his job and that would’ve been the last day I would have a chance to meet him. And our relationship was still fairly new, it was just the beginning and I mean - you know what it’s like at the start - you never want this person to see you in your worst condition, I knew he wanted to see me, but I told him I wasn’t really in the mood for it and there was no option but to put this off for another time.”

A meeting with her team had confirmed that she would be working on her birthday this year. There was a photoshoot with British Vogue lined up the same day that could not be moved to another date, and she had fought tooth and nail to free up the date, so far as requesting for them to just free up those 24 hours and she was willing to put in double the work through that week, but they wouldn’t budge. To anyone else this would look and feel like a diva meltdown, and she felt guilty, too. It’s just that - her birthday was always spent with her family. Every year without fail. Her family would free up their schedules to spend a good day together, and she already saw very less of them since her career had taken off, this just felt like she didn’t hold the reigns to her life anymore.

Getting out of the meeting, she texted him for a rain check. The words felt heavy to even type out, this really was the last chance they’d have of seeing each other for another two months until his Europe tour ended and she wrapped up her film. But there was no way she could let him see her in this condition. She needed to go home and curl up in a ball and cry a bit to just have an outlet - but she also needed him, his body pressed against hers and his strong arms wrapping her in, making her feel safe. Her fingers flew over the keypad for a second, pursing her lips to try and think of what could possibly soften the blow, not only for him but also herself.

hi my love, I hope you’re having a good day so far. I know we planned on you coming over today but I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a hot drink and someone to cuddle with, and I think I’m in love with y- she tutted at herself, pull it together. She hit backspace, wiping out the text and typing again. hi my love, I hope you’re having a good day so far. I know we planned on you coming over today but I’ve had a rough day and I think it’s best if I spend some time alone, I’m really sorry for cancelling

“So you blew him off so you could go home and cry? That was your big plan?” James asked, clearly amused and you could only laugh at how silly it all was.

“Absolutely! That’s exactly what it was! I wanted to go home and wallow in peace. When I cry it’s not pretty at all and I didn’t want him to see that but he ruined all my great plans!”

She could see that he had opened the text within five minutes of her sending it, and didn’t reply. Was he mad at her? She would understand if he was. With the way the past few days had tested her emotions, this was the one thing she could take full responsibility for. She reached home soon after, washing herself up and changing into the fluffiest pair of pajamas she could find. She fixed her hair into a loose bun, scrubbed her face free of makeup and took her contact lens out to wear glasses. She’d given up on the week and now she looked like it, too.

She had only just found herself comfortable in front of the large flatscreen in her living room when she heard three sharp raps on her front door. Great. Now she would have to tell off the poor person who chose to come her way today of all days. When she swung the door open, her jaw fell open, too.

There was the boy who took up space in all her daydreams lately, with two big bags of what looked like food, dressed down in a baby pink hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. Grey sweatpants.

Seeing her unmoving for a few moments he welcomed himself in, and shut the door behind himself. He took off his sliders by the door, a habit he learned from her, and walked further into her apartment. He stopped for a second, only to place a soft kiss to the side of her head. He rounded off into her open plan kitchen, unpacking the two bags. He pulled out two large pizzas, and a crate of what looked like Nesquik chocolate milk.

“What, um, babe what are you doing here?”

He turned around, as if he was surprised she was talking to him, even with the two of them being alone in her apartment. “Hmm? Oh, don’t mind me, just dropping off some food for you, I’ll be out in a second.”

“Why?”

It’s his turn to stay quiet.

“You said… you said you didn’t have a good day, and I didn’t want you to be alone,” his voice was soft, keeping in mind the energy of the space between them. If she wanted she could just reach out and touch him, make herself believe he wasn’t a figment of her imagination, but not just yet. “I don’t really know what happened… and I don’t want you to tell me unless you feel comfortable and uh,” he ran a hand down his neck, slowly looking back up at her, “I got you your favourite food… it won’t make things better but… you can have it if you need. Got the toppings right as well.”

He opened the lid of the pizza box and slid it over to her on the counter. A large veggie supreme with no corn, extra olives and jalapeños. Just how she liked. The longer she looked between him and the food the longer he felt like he messed up.

“I - I just wanted to drop all this off and be on my way, sorry for bothering you I just needed you to know it’s okay to have bad days and I know you wanted to be alone but I jus-“

“Stay.”

His eyes snapped back up to read her face, catch any signs of discomfort or annoyance or anything that would let him know she didn’t actually want him to stay.

“Really?”

“Please stay,” she whispered, overwhelmed. She rounded around the kitchen island, pausing just for a moment to take a good look at his face and then pushing onto her tiptoes to hug him as tight as she could. If he felt the stray tears on his neck, he didn’t say anything.

She’d planned on camping out in her living room and binge Brooklyn 99 ’til she eventually passed out but now that he was here, she wanted nothing but him. Turns out he did, in fact, think she would ask him to stay, and the second pizza he got was for himself. Sneaky bastard. Also a really lovely, thoughtful bastard, she thought.

“And then we spent the rest of the evening just catching up, I drank like, four gallons of Nesquik, so I think I got high on that. But the one thing he taught me that day was that some things just aren’t in our control, and it’s not correct to punish ourselves for what could have been, y’all know what I mean?” She saw a few heads nodding in the crowd, proud of herself for sharing this story. “I think we’re all willing to forgive others no matter what, but we should learn forgiving ourselves, too. Also - crying is the best form of therapy - always!”

“And - so how did this night end?” James batted his lashes at her, causing her cheeks to flush even though there was nothing of the sort that he was implying.

“Nothing that you think - I ended up falling asleep before midnight and he had to leave soon because he was supposed to catch a flight the next day. That’s it! That’s my great story!”

“mmm… you’re warm,” she mumbled into his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. Her voice was scratchy and worn out, she did cry a good amount, after all, and then they’d eaten, finished half the crate of the chocolate milk he brought after which she’d snuggled up to him, and slowly drifted to sleep. He’d made her comfortable on the couch while he cleaned up after them, deciding to tuck her in before he had to return to his hotel. “I’ll really miss you when you’re gone, you know that, don’t you?” She continued mumbling things into his neck that he couldn’t quite understand, and then pulled away.

Slowly blinking up at him, she bit her lips, hissing at how sore they felt because she’d forgotten how he had kissed her, slow and deep, after their meal. No wandering hands, no further moves. Just them, just kissing, as the 99th precinct continued to save the day in the background. This had quickly become her favourite day they had spent together and she was clutching onto the last fleeting moments.

“And I’ll miss you just as much,” he replied, laying her on the mattress, moving away to turn on her night lights, the room now lit in hazy gold from one corner. “You’re so cute when you’re sleepy like this.”

Her eyes followed him around the room, biting the inside of her cheek to keep any second thoughts at bay. “Can you keep a secret?” She whispered, mind suddenly more conscious than it had been all evening. What could she say, being this close to him caused cross connections sometimes.

He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, taking her hand in his again. “Of course.”

“I think I’m in love with you, and it scared me to let you leave without you knowing.”

The biggest smile she had seen all day slowly broke out on his face, bringing their entwined hands up to his lips so he could kiss the back of her hand. “Can you keep my secret?”

When she hummed, he sighed out dreamily. “I know I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

Tears gathered in her eyes for the third time that night, and soon he was gone.

“So this boy you say you liked, what’s he like? Do we know him? Does anyone here know him?” James perks up cheekily, and she knows exactly what and who he was aiming at. She can feel her cheeks heat up under the makeup, thank god for full coverage foundation.

“I think he might get by… maybe you know him, maybe you don’t…” she trails off but she knows James would want more. She knows most people who consider themselves her fans must’ve seen the few times she was spotted with him over the last year. There was a grainy video of the two of them standing very close at a small pub in Toronto, a few photos of the two of them walking hand in hand in Hyde Park while she was still filming in London, the one 35mm photo he posted of himself by the fireplace in her house, the same house that was the backdrop of many of her own photos. She knew they knew. But the two of them had never confirmed or denied anything, keep ‘em guessing and all. The sneaking around was half the fun. The other half was not having the media and the general public up their asses for every minuscule detail of their private lives.

“So it probably wouldn’t be someone we’ve seen before right? You don’t happen to know this devilishly handsome Canadian singer - his face looks like it was carved from marble - has the voice of an angel?”

She tapped her fingers on her chin as if in deep thought, “Nope, sorry doesn’t ring a bell. But it sounds like you do know someone like that,” she smirks back at him, “What say, James, wanna set me up?”

“An opportunity to set up an Oscar winning actress? I wouldn’t dare pass up on that!” He seemed delighted, fully aware that his show was the first and only one to have had her spill any details about her personal life at all.

Soon, he thanked her for being on the show, reminding the viewers to grab tickets to her upcoming film before announcing the next guest. She was brought backstage to pack up and head home, but not before she had her promotional photos taken with James, and in their signature photobooth. By an absolute coincidence she pinned her photo next to her love’s, smiling at how pathetic and mushy it was.

Later that night as she got ready for bed, she saw herself tagged in a video by the Late Late Show’s Instagram account. It was the one of her talking about how “the boy she liked” taught her a life lesson and how she asked James to set her up with interested suitors.

She found herself smiling at the video, when she felt his presence behind her, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into him. She let out a blissed sigh, and felt him nosing at her neck, dropping stray kisses as he liked. He cleared his throat lightly, sending chills down her spine due to the proximity.

“Heard you’re looking for handsome Canadian singers to be set up with, where do I apply, Miss Golden?”

taglist: @shawnwyr @mendesstories @lanallaa @sleepybesson @rulerofnocountry @luvluvxx @wholesomemendes

dm to be added or removed ♥️

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

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Complexities Unknowable Chapter 3

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23274334/chapters/57175900

Chapter Two link: https://tha-best-url-evar.tumblr.com/post/614327945408987136/complexities-unknowable-chapter-two

MasterPost

Relationships: Established Relationship Dukeceit, eventual intrualiceit, background analogince.

Warnings: Remus says some things (mentions of biblically accurate angels, gore art description), food mention, mild sleep deprivation, cursing. As always everyone is sympathetic. Roast me if I forgot something.

Word Count: 1,851

Remus was, once again, sitting on the counter in the light side kitchen. It was an ungodly early hour of morning, so the Commons were deserted. He was supposed to be waiting for Morality, according to the spiteful little plot Dee had offered him that he hadn’t listened to all that well, but he surmised it meant he was supposed to fuck with a light side, so… Duh. Of course he was in.

Truth be told, three out of four of the self-proclaimed ‘light sides’ hardly bothered him! They were stuffy prudes, sure, but their insults slid off his back like blood off of steel. As long as he was doing his own thing with Deceit alongside him, everything was fine (he was still pointedly ignoring the existence of another Creativity). But looks like what Deceit wanted to do was torment Patton into, like, repenting? Or something? Like he said, he wasn’t listening.

Anyway! Waiting and watching was what he was doing! And doodling, because sitting still was literally impossible in Remus’ experience. Thankfully, he soon saw the paternal trait springing down the stairs. Straightening his back, The Duke put on his best intimidating face (which he thought looked rather silly, but Deceit assured him was very unsettling). He set down his sketchbook and blurred his edges. It didn’t work very well up here, but it was a little trick that they’d all- Virgil included- learned years ago. Honestly, he just used it to get cheap scares every now and then.

Patton strolled into the kitchen, whistling some jaunty tune and holy shit , Remus had figured it was some shtick, but was he just a cartoon character all of the time ? That was- sure, very adorable- but mostly all the more entertaining to scare!

“What’s up, Dilf!?”

Patton shrieked, nearly dropping a mug. With wide, startled eyes, he found the source of the noise. Said source watched the emotional trait force his expression into something amicable, laughing loudly.

“Um- good morning, Remus! I, uh, didn’t see you there.”

“That was the point, MoMo,” Remus replied, dragging his claws screechingly down the side of a cabinet; Patton winced at the sound.

“Can I help you with anything?” Read: Why are you still here? Sometimes Remus wondered if he was too good at his job!

“Nope! Just enjoying the atmosphere, sketching, terrorizing…” He flipped onto his back, throwing his arm out and presenting his open notebook.

“You draw?” Patton seemed weirdly happy about that fact, managing a more natural smile. Seemed he thought he’d found something to work with, but that was likely to change.

“Of course I do, I am Creativity, after all! Here .” He handed over the sketchbook with a Cheshire smile. The creative trait had ensured it was flipped open to a detailed depiction of a being composed of several flaming rings, all of which absolutely covered with bloodshot eyes. It had an indiscernible amount of wings that could only be counted as ‘too many’. In the center of the rings was a swirling black void (a type of ink that took Remus weeks to conjure properly, thank you very much).

He watched carefully as Patton studied the image, looking bemused.

“It’s an angel!”

That seemed to only confuse the moral side more, making him tilt his head to a few different angles to look at the drawing. But he still didn’t seem upset by it, oddly enough.

“It certainly is an interesting interpretation,” He responded at last, “and all of these little lines must have taken you forever, that’s so impressive!”

Truth be told, they had taken a while, and Remus was very happy that the effort had been noticed- but that wasn’t the point!

“That’s nothing,” he took the sketchbook back from Patton and flipped through more pages. Aha! This would fuck him up, for sure! A full-color illustration of someone hung up on a meat hook, rib cage pried open like a spike trap to reveal very painstakingly rendered organs. He was actually quite proud of this one.

The only response that Patton gave, however, was a slight wrinkling of his nose when he first saw it, followed by more quiet observation.

“What do you think?” Remus prompted, watching as Patton set the drawing back down on the counter and began to assemble things for breakfast, seemingly unaffected.

“I wish I could draw that well, but I’m still not super good at it,” he said admiringly.

“I had to crack open my own ribs to make sure it was accurate, you know!”

Morality yelped at that one- score one for Remus! Finally!

“You wanna see my re-imaginings of my favorite Final Destination deaths? I’ve painted some with real- well, conjured- but real enough blood!”

But Patton didn’t even flinch this time; he looked more determined even!

“Art is a healthy outlet for expressing yourself,” he was almost certainly parroting Logan there, and he even seemed to believe the statement. Perhaps Remus would have to be a little more creative to get more reactions.

. “I agree! I didn’t expect you to have such an open-minded point of view. I’ll be sure you’re the first side to know when I make my next amateur taxidermy sculpture! Emphasis on the amateur!”

“Great!” Patton practically shouted, very stubbornly staring at the stove.

Before Remus had the chance to continue, the distinct sounds of Logan and Roman arguing their way downstairs met his ears, and he cut himself off. That was enough for one day, he decided. And anyhow, he looked forward to trying new ways to bother Patton next morning.

Deceit rose into the shadows of the Light Side commons with a smirk. It was an awful hour of the night, which was part of the plan. Not only was Patton the first awake in the morning, he was also often the last to sleep. Deceit supposed that Logan was looking after Roman and Virgil’s sleep schedules nowadays, which made it much easier to catch the artificial patriarch alone. That isn’t to imply that Dee had been tracking their schedules or anything, but the overwhelming lie that Morality surrounded himself with made him easy to track- especially in the night, when he had to pretend even harder that he was fine without the presence of his little family. Deceit entertained the idea that he should feel bad for the side, and maybe he did somewhere deep down. Deep, deep down. No, further than that.

Regardless of any such feelings, he was here to mess with Patton. Still unnoticed, he watched quietly as his target scrolled through Netflix, illuminated only by the dim glow of the television. The side looked so tired that he could’ve passed as a corpse, but gave a tiny smile after finally selecting whatever it was he was going to watch.

Wait. Wait. He was watching that ?

Deceit stared at the unmistakable green text that was the intro to The Good Place playing across the screen. If there was one thing he was expecting Patton to watch (Cartoons? Friends reruns? Slime videos?), it wasn't his own favorite show.

“Hm.” Deceit hummed.

In response, Patton shrieked and fell halfway off the couch. His head darted around until he finally spotted Deceit, who had slid down to sit on the sofa as well.

“Oh- um- good evening, Deceit! Wow, today is just full of surprises!”

“ Surely you won’t mind if I join you? This is one of my favorite shows, after all.”

Patton fixed his position so that he was no longer partially on the floor and looked the snake up and down. He paused the episode.

“ Really ?”

“Really,” and then, after some trepidation, “Honestly.”

Suddenly, Patton lit up dramatically, a happy smile stretching across his face. Fuck, wrong direction, Deceit wasn’t supposed to be cheering him up!

“I’m surprised that someone like you would like it,” Deceit continued hastily. Patton’s smile fell a little and he tipped his head in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean ,” He lounged back against the couch, “I didn’t think you’d approve of a show where all of the characters are such bad people .”

“What?! The whole point is that they aren’t bad!” Good, Back on track .

“Oh? Then what are they? Last I checked, the main character was very selfish .”

“I- okay, I see what you’re trying to do,” Patton turned to face Deceit entirely, “But they’re- they also-”

“Also what ?” Deceit was also sitting sideways on the couch now, his eyes glinting. He was certain that he’d talked the trait into a corner, which was why he was so utterly unprepared for Patton’s response.

“It’s, like, they all start off not great, but that’s because they were all set up for failure before the afterlife! They had it hard before dying, but when they were finally given the chance to actually get better, then they got better! They aren’t perfect , but they care about each other! And I think it really shows that sometimes, somebody can be wrong over and over and over again, but that doesn’t mean that they’re hopeless, or that they’re a bad friend, or…” He trailed off, looking down at his lap and blinking very quickly. “Or that they’re a bad person.”

Suddenly, Deceit wasn’t that sure that he wanted to see Patton upset anymore.

After a very uncomfortable silence that lasted far too long for his liking, the scaled side realized that he should probably be the one to say something.

“That’s… a very in depth analysis, Morality. I’m inclined to agree with you.”

“Thanks,” Patton replied. When he looked up, his eyes held an odd recognition. It was a look that no Light Side had ever given Deceit, but they gave it to each other plenty of times. The side in question wasn’t sure if he liked it, but he sure knew that he was uncomfortable.

“So… The show…” He prompted.

“Oh, right!”

Patton pressed play.

Deceit had planned on doing some more provoking of Patton as they watched, but he found himself rather caught up in the program. The conversation he did end up making with the other incidentally slipped into chatting about their shared views on the show. It was almost nice. Maybe. Whatever.

After a few episodes, Deceit elected to return home for the night. As he was sinking out, he heard a sleepy voice bidding him farewell.

“G’night, Kiddo.”

He popped up in his bedroom after that, eyes quickly landing on a half-asleep Remus half-watching Saw 4 . The lights were dimmed to a glow, and the TV’s volume was so low that it might have been inaudible to anyone other than the more animalistic sides.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” Deceit murmured warmly, sitting beside his fellow Dark side. The trait yawned and rubbed his eyes, instinctively leaning into him.

“Wanted to,” he responded, voice groggy, “How’d it go?”

Deceit snapped his fingers to change into sleep clothes, reaching across Remus to flick off the lamp. As he settled in to semi-watch the movie, fingers automatically moving to card through his partner’s hair, he carefully considered the question.

“Fucking. Weird.”

Chapter 4

Tags: @deceits-left-glove @princemesscharming

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weirdo-with-a-nametag · 3 years

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This is a vent, basically. No obligation to read, at all.

So, this was today:

I had to help my mom move furniture for hours, got woken up early to do that, ripped my new pants on a nail helping her, pulled a muscle in my arm, messed up my hips, and then spent hours with my housemate and her boyfriend trying to donate blood, but we weren't able to, and then had to buy gas because neither of them had money to pay for the gas for this thing they wanted to do.

Came home, sat down to do the homework I've been putting off to do chores, and was called into the kitchen because my grandma wanted help with the green beans for dinner. went back to my room to break them, did that, interrupted several times for taking too long. Nana decided to cook the meatballs I got specifically so that I could try them, so I was like ok that's fine just let me cook them.

Cooked meatballs. Constant contact with my grandma, at my limit, exhausted. Everyone walked away so I guess the green beans are on me also?

Housemate texts me:

> Do I smell sausage?

< No it's meatballs.

> I want sausage

< Ok

> Can you make me sausage?

< I'm cooking the meatballs, and the green beans, and I'm already past my limits today. can you come make it yourself?

> I don't know how

< Pan, oil, sausage. I can help, just can't make it myself. Or, you can try the meatballs

> Ok I'll try them.

She comes down, decides meatballs are good enough. Adds to the noise of the kitchen, brings Nana back in to ask about cutting boards. Then she's standing here, cutting apples, and I'm humming along to my music to deal with the noise and exhaustion. Nana is talking at me.

Housemate asks me to stop humming, for the umpteenth time today, because she has a migraine. I stop, and tears collect in my eyes involuntarily because everything is way too much. I freeze in my chair, watching my green beans burn, until she leaves and I can hum again.

Cooking green beans. Nana comes back, asks me how I'm gonna cook the noodles. I didn't know I was cooking the noodles. Now I'm cooking all of dinner? Call my mom to figure out what she was doing with the noodles, she doesn't have a plan, so I've got to come up with a sauce for them to go with the green bean sauce and the meatballs. Great.

Nana keeps coming back like what're you doing with the noodles? What're you doing with the green beans? I'm going to bed. No, I'm back, can we eat yet?

Tell her I'm not sure what I'm doing with the noodles yet, and my mom appears and takes some of the (unseasoned) noodles and (unfinished) green beans, which prompts Nana to try and get some, too. I tell her it's not done yet, and mom gets involved for some reason (trying to back me up, I think. But she just makes conflict with Nana) and Nana gets agitated.

Nana says she's not even hungry, she's gonna go to bed. I'm like. Fine go to bed. It's not like I've been cooking for an hour because you decided it was on me to cook your food?

She comes back, says she's "just frustrated we can't eat yet" and I do not respond. How do I respond to that. Encourage her to eat something. She takes the food I haven't finished cooking and goes off to bed.

I am now cooking a dinner that no one wants, with my broken down body and even less energy for the studying I have to do before class tomorrow.

But hey. At least no one else is in here, now.

I'm...really having a hard time. I'm trying to help people out, because I feel like I've been cold lately. Helped my mom for hours on a construction job, and then yesterday on remodeling the living room, and today bringing the new furniture in. I'm really, really tired. Keep getting yelled at for my room being messy, but it's all I can do to drink a little water every day. If they wouldn't get mad at me for it, it'd actually be cleaner because I wouldn't be dealing with their anger on top of all the tasks.

My mom cries about me sitting down to cook or do dishes, about me using a cane, about me being tired all the time on the rare occasions she believes me. Says she's trying to help, but she's just pushing supplements and exercise and diet regimens on me.

I have to manage her emotions and expectations and help out as much as I can because everyone is stressed. None of their anger helps me. I hope it helps them.

It doesn't seem to, because they keep going over the same things. Or maybe it's easier to deal with if they yell as an outlet.

I got out of my dad's house. Here, it's lower stakes as far as anger, but I'm responsible for everyone's emotional wellbeing.

It's always been like that. I'm trying so hard to get my mom to just...vent to other people, solve her problems on her own. I shouldn't be the one she comes to for advice on dealing with her frustration with me. It's not okay that she cries at me whenever I feel her I have a problem with something she did. Or when I'm not free to do what she wants me to do.

She doesn't know any better. I've been trying forever to get her resources on...managing her emotions, talking to people, managing relationships.

She goes through friends like sparklers, fun and excitement and then she's overstayed her welcome and they don't have anything left they're willing to give her. So she takes it from me. And I can't leave, so that's worked for eighteen years.

I don't blow up, and she doesn't respect boundaries or calm words, so I tell her every time that I can't help her with these problems and she gets sad or mad and then comes back the next day with the same thing.

I have no privacy because my room has been under construction since before quarantine started. I'm sleeping in the living room. All the noises come into my space, and all the heat. Nana's mad because she wants to relax in there, and it's messy. Everyone comes in with no announcement and starts talking to me.

I failed 4 out of 5 classes last term because I can't think or get anything done in there.

This term I am taking one class and its lab, so there's less work, but I don't qualify for my scholarship this term and I'm falling behind on my degree.

But I'm at my limit, and I'm trying to respect that. The pressure is building in my head, and I'm worried I'll break down again, and worse. But I have nowhere to go.

What can I change, that I haven't tried and failed at already? If I could be left alone, this would be much easier.

But I live with my family, and they want and need things from me. It's almost midnight, and I think I might just go to bed. I have an in person doctors appointment tomorrow morning and I don't have a ride, yet, because everyone else's things are more urgent. Had to reschedule that appointment from today because my mom woke me up to do her thing and I forgot all about it and missed the whole thing.

Everything is... High strung, stress, energy. I'm already tired, and then any interaction is like running uphill, and if I try to ask for space it just drags things out.

My housemate gets it, a bit, but she's wrapped up in herself as much as any of them and often doesn't realize the effects of her actions. I'm alone, but I'm never alone. I don't know what to do.

#abuse tw #family #chronically ill #chronic pain #actuallyautistic #mine

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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i'll be your biggest fan ( trinity & sasha ) - lily2

[ prompt ] : sasha never thought she would ever get married let alone to her best friend but in the midst of the big day she needs help putting on her dress for the event and she knows exactly who to employ to get the damn thing done.

[ author's note ] : I really love their friendship a lot (and also shea/trinity is a huge brotp of mine) and it's very sweet and so like opposite and I find it so charming, wanted an excuse to write wedding sashea as well !!! I genuinely love trinity and enjoy writing her so so so badly, I'm a proud eastern european girl but I will always appreciate my homestate queen! (人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+

— *.✧

"What if she doesn't like the dress?"

It was difficult for Sasha to even process the insanity that was about to be her own wedding day, her perfectly manicured hands running through her thick blonde curls. The Russian could barely even get a sentence out without wanting to collapse in fear— perhaps not fear but stress though it all seemed to mesh into one demon that kept clawing at her back, that she wasn't good enough for Shea, for this wedding, that she was still scared of the commitment that was about to come.

The issue was not if she was to be devoted to Shea Couleé, the one woman she knew almost instantaneously as her soulmate, her partner, her best friend all these years later.

It was clear the minute they exchanged looks and Shea leaned against the bar, a track from Donna Summer blasting from the stage, Sasha leaning deeper and deeper entranced by her beauty, intelligence, everything. Well rounded and active in her community back in her hometown of Chicago, something the blonde could definitely appreciate considering her own background in both St. Petersburg and Chicago.

"I really should've consulted her, I'm all about fashion but this isn't exactly what you would call my alley way!"

An irrepressible thumping of her heart as Trinity brushed the corners of her hair, putting a box down in Sasha's lap before groaning aloud, the southern girl never shy to share aloud her opinions and thoughts even when not provoked to.

"Sasha Velour, I know damn well you are not trying to talk your mind into stress on your wedding day!" A hair brush in her left hand as she tossed her perfectly sprayed and shortned hair, "Three things in life are absolutely positive: I'm gorgeous, taxes and Shea Couleé being in love with you." The words spitting out her lips before she finished up styling her best friend's hair.

The bride-to-be couldn't help but giggle at the sentiment, it was true, all three facets.

Trinity Taylor was truly a gem on earth, you'd never meet someone with the ability to talk your ear off while almost simultaneously digging a grave for you in Dante's layers of hell. A true southern girl, a beauty queen since high school, everything seemed so perfectly aligned and expected of the Orlando native.

Who needs a degree in economics! Especially when you can just be as gorgeous as I am?

However, expectations aren't always necessarily the reality. Trinity met Sasha, at a bar nonetheless due to a mutual friend and unprovoked, inspired by Sasha's work and ethic as a writer and designer, decided to finally go to college after dropping out her first year after high school. Majoring in business, still a pageant queen at her core and getting a minor in fashion retail as well.

"I'm still surprised you picked me for your maid of honor, if I can be completely honest with you." A smile gently forming across the corners of her lips as she spoke to the girl who was still in her robe, Trinity beginning to put some finishing touches. Sasha's brow immediately cocked and she practically grasped her entire desk.

"What do you mean? We've been close for years! We studied together, I helped you with exams, you introduced me to Shea! Don't be so hard on yourself." The twinge of her still softly reminding Russian accent came out hardest when she was angry or spewing up words, no time to breathe in between sentences.

"Hey! Don't get sappy on me bitch, I have so much makeup on I think our local Sephora might have run out of business." Her hands gently beginning to weave flowers through her hair, taking in a deep breath, learning to be silent and dabbing her puffy eyes when the Russian wasn't looking and closed her eyes, it was awfully emotional.

"You still have to put me in my dress, we have about an hour!" She warned gently, rubbing Sasha's shoulders as the thought begun to truly sink into her memory.

She was going to put Sasha into her dress.

Tears seemed to collect in the corner of her eyes but she brushed them aside, staying strong for the Russian who deserved today: to have met someone as fashionable and sweet as herself though Shea was definitely the best care she had with her isolation of family, it was very heartwarming and bittersweet to the girl who came to the states with nothing but her phone, some sketchbooks and a camera.

Sasha would not budge on her artistic roots and demanded that flowers be in her hair someway, somehow, scattered. At first the brunette could barely stand it, almost bitterly spitting that Farrah could do it instead, hating the idea.

Her intuition however was once again, as if it was a surprise, correct. The illusion was everything, as if she was some sort of gorgeous mythological creature, it was very on brand for her and her own creative processes.

"Told you it would look good."

"Well, sometimes I'm wrong, we ain't perfect but I'm pretty damn close honey."

Flowers intricately being placed in her hair as they spoke with tender laughter, "You know, this entire look, I commissioned the dress and made all the other pieces so I look like Lada, she's a Slavic goddess." Trinity wasn't surprised that she was including her culture in little ways, speckled into her wedding especially being away from Russia.

"Oh really?"

A hint of disbelief in her tone but Trinity knew her best friend well enough to realize her passion for her culture, she kept all her Russian zazz and was delighted to meet Katya, someone to finally share an outlet with, comfortably speak Russian with without feeling targeted or stared at with distrust.

"Yes, a bit of a tribute. Also, my favorite outfit Shea ever wore was this lavender, tulle dress during our fifth year anniversary, it had white flowers in the fabric and I wanted a piece of her in my dress." Her cheeks gently flushing, talking about her (almost official) wife with nothing but devotion and pride.

"That's so fucking cute I wanna throw up."

They laughed and held eachother's hands, embracing in the moment before the robe came off, Sasha sucking in a breath as Trinity unzipped the dress from it's black bag that had been delivered via Bianca and gently held it her hands, being sure to look where she stepped as the dress seeped out of her hands with petals and flowers embleshed adorning every corner of the dress.

It was a nice surprise and breach from Sasha's usual eclectic style that almost always had a paint stain or three, she had her brand down and Trinity could appreciate how confident and how out of the box, creative she was however it definitely made her inner, nostalgic heart smile at the sight of a dress so long it hits the floor on both sides.

"This is really beautiful Sash."

Trinity could only unzip the back of the dress, so beautifully crafted and designed as Sasha was left standing to turn and gently put her legs through the hole of the dress, getting stuck for just a second, careful with her hair knowing Trinity was definitely her smarter half in this situation considering the blonde was simply about to pull it over her head, ruining her styled hair.

"Oh God..." A grumble from Trinity's lips as she zipped her up, it felt almost wrong. This was usually a mother's duty, a family item, the entire process of dressing and making over the bride, no matter how traditional it sounded to anyone else, they know deep in their hearts they were sisters but not having your blood family must sting, especially at a wedding.

It felt strangely therapeutic to tie and zip her into her own wedding dress, she wasn't complaining in the slightest even if the heat from the mirror made her perfectly applied foundation melt and stick just a bit more, she was completely focused on one thing: making sure her best friend was ready and didn't have to do it alone.

Galvanized, Sasha seemed to hold her breath not fully understanding yet that she and Shea would soon be married and finally tie the knot, years of friendship and dating and it had finally happened with absolutely no hesitation from Sasha who screamed "yes!" in just about every language she could speak or name. Trinity touched her back, making sure she was fully snug into her dress before touching her shoulders in comfort, stifling back a laugh.

"Fucking Christ I feel so hideious!" She cried out, hiding her tears with a smirk that spanned across her entire face, unable to erase it as Sasha opened her eyes and seemed to stop breathing for a few seconds, truly taking in the details of the dress and adjusting her bra just a bit before choking up, Trinity quickly intervened, "You better not cry off your mug! I worked hard." The two staring side by side at Sasha together, "My favorite married couple." She sighed as she held hands with the Russian girl who happily was adjusting to the new word: married.

"You can cry once you get down the alter girl, we better get into our shoes because I can already feel us behind schedule, Katya's angry fingers typing away at us to hurry up."

The blonde nodded but not before squeezing Trinity's hand, a silent "thank you" mouthed as she begun to look around for her pair of shoes, her head wondering off to many different places at the same exact time.

"Anytime, any day you need me, I'm here." Her word's crisp as she strapped on her heels, matching her floral wedding extravaganza with a lavendar tulle dress, breaking down her wall a bit and even having shoes with some flowers done in colorful embroidery, Sasha claimed it was a very popular thing in Eastern Europe, that it adorned all their clothing.

"I know, always, when you finally have the confidence to ask out a certain someone especially." The wiggle of her eyes reminding Trinity brutually of her own, suprisingly awkward struggles with love, "Oh you shady!" She gasped, covering her mouth gently and almost hitting her with her bouquet of flowers.

"I'm just saying I see you getting side glances all the time from her."

"Let's not talk about this on your own damn day! Another time."

So they interlocked arms and did one final mirror take, finding it hard they went from senior year of high school, a nervous and introverted Russian girl with a thick accent and passion for fashion shows and politics best friends with the beauty queen, the secretly witty and hilariously instinctive southern belle.

"Let's go bitch, I know well time is a racing!" She yelped as they skipped out the door in excitement though Trinity was attempting to be careful with all the dress material that was sliding across the floors they walked upon, making sure she grabbed Sasha's own flower bouquet filled with Camomile (only fitting to be the national flower of Russia) and odd numbered as she requested.

Hand in hand they walked, unafraid of what was in store and for the future, just as the stories went.

"Well, let's do this."

#rpdr fanfiction #trinity taylor #sasha velour #shea coulee #sashea #lesbian au #wedding au #ill be your biggest fan #concrit welcome #roza

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happy-little-ghost · 5 years

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Prompt #8

"Okay, I knew applying for a job at the fireworks store wasn't the best idea, but I had no idea that this would happen" by @docxie

Hothead.

Lola didn't consider herself by any means short tempered. If anything, she'd say she was the "black sheep" of the family, considering she pretty much lacked that trait.

Which, in a family of dragonites, it definitely was saying something.

Now don't get me wrong, dragonites aren't bad people. They're your average Joes and Janes trying to make the best out of their lives, albeit dealing with other struggles. They need extra space in their homes for their hoards, and a couple more blankets in winter to keep warm. They're overprotective of their families, and a little harder to earn their trust from than you'd expect, but that's about it. Well, that and the magical-slash-emotional aspect of their powers, but it's not like they're stone cold born killers. They're just sensitive people who need a special kind of outlet when they feel overwhelmed.

There's been a wide spread of miss information over the last couple of decades, especially regarding the side of the lorei community that used to be presented as inherently evil on old tales. It's really no surprise that many lorei families keep their status of such a secret, mostly for protection -if not to spare themselves from bigotry. In that sense, the world hasn't really changed much.

The world hasn't changed much either in the economic sense.

Lola had applied to every single non-title-required job offer within a 30 minute walking distance of her apartment because she needed the extra cash while staying in campus during the summer. It was as simple as that.

When she got the call from Chispas Mágicas, she didn't think too much about it. Sure, she would have to be careful working around explosives, but not more or less than a human would.

Lola had never dealt with the sort of anger issues her dad, brothers or uncles and aunties had dealt with. She prided herself in the fact that she had quite the easygoing, chill and tranquil personality that would allow her to make friends anywhere she went and pass for human to the naked eye.

(Something none of her family members had achieved without great effort.)

Confident this summer job would be a piece of cake, she had walked into the store with a smile and the ease of someone ready to take the world by storm.

Alright, maybe she wasn't all that thrilled at working retail. She was just really glad she wouldn't have to ask for her parents to send her extra money. Plus she had some experience from helping out on her aunt Syl's clothing store, so she wasn't clueless on to how to deal with customer service or other stressed out student employees.

Still nothing could have prepared her for the whirlwind that was the evening shift.

It was, in many aspects in fact, a great shift. She could give herself the luxury to sleep in late. Costumers weren't all that recurrent between 4pm and 11pm. It was rare to get more than two sales with less than a two hour span, so most of the time she would spend doing inventory, filling the morning sales her coworkers forgot to in the books or simply lazing around with her phone.

But because of that same lack of sales in the latter hours, it meant there were less employees on shift as well. Which meant that she was stuck, five days a week for eight hours, with just one other coworker.

It wouldn't have been that much of a hassle had it not been that said coworker was Amber.

Amber had been sweet for about the first two hours they'd met. Everything afterwards, she'd simply become overwhelming.

Because Amber's sweetness stretched way past what could be considered normal.

It was one thing to be polite with the costumers because that was the company's policy, but the fact that the soft smile she addressed them with never faltered during the day simply didn't sit right on Lola's gut.

Amber would hum while checking the inventory, her little tune echoing all over the warehouse evenly for nearly an hour before fading out. She'd waltz through the rows of stacked up box of fireworks, twirling and jingling the endless rings on her ears. Lola was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to hear all of that.

She'd come in every day with a thermos full of tea and a paperbag filled with cinnamon pastries, and nag Lola until she'd have at least two outside of their break. They were always warm and sugary, and they tasted like nothing Lola had ever gotten from the local bakery.

But above all things, Amber talked and talked and talked. Alone, for the most part, but always expecting Lola to have been paying attention just to ask her opinion on the matter. She wasn't even mean when Lola admitted she hadn't been, Amber would patiently explain again; and after getting an answer, she'd launch herself into another long monologue Lola couldn't help but listen to -albeit sigltly dreading her full attention and intention to strike a conversation.

There wasn't anything wrong about the way Amber acted, but it all felt like too much. Like there was some underlying reason for the way she did the things she did, and it simply couldn't be something good for Lola. Some days she tried to avoid Amber throughout the shift if only to escape the feeling whatever that reason might have been, it had to do with her.

Especially on the days when Amber simply walked in and complimented her in that soft spoken tone as soon as she'd say 'hello'.

"Good Evening Lola! Oh my, that skirt is so pretty, you look so cute in it!"

"Hey there, Lola. Are those earrings new? They look lovely on you!"

"Lola! You look stunning today! Yellow is definitely your color!"

Lola sometimes wished she'd been just a bitch. Bitchy, she could deal with. This whatever it was, she couldn't. Not coming from a five feet two girl clad in fishnets and combat boots, arms covered in flowery tattoos, fingers full of rings and matching golden piercings on her ears and lip. The heavy contrast of that tough looking exterior and her innocent, lovely-dovey attitude didn't make her any less wary.

At first Lola believed she'd be ablee to go through the summer ignoring her, but in the past couple of weeks she'd realized she'd have to do something, as much as she didn't want to.

Lola never considered herself to be hot headed, but lately, she'd been catching spark. A lot.

She brushed it off when it first happened. It was understandable considering Amber had startled her out of her thoughts busting the employees lounge's door open without knowcking on one Friday she'd been particularly tired. Her coworker didn't seem to notice the buzzing of her skin, nor the fizzle of light bursting at the tip of her fingers. She had simply sat beside Lola with a wide smile and pulled her phone in front of her to show her a funny joke she thought she'd enjoy. Still, Lola had held her breath until she got up and went back to work, thankful for the costumer that walked in.

The next couple of times, being caught off guard hadn't been quite as excusable.

Amber's colorful commentaries and compliments had become more and more frequent, and she'd start sliping in a few mid conversation. More than once Lola had found herself half listening and suddenly flustered after registering Amber had just called her beautiful. Almost as a reflex, she'd have to excuse herself to go elsewhere in the store, as she felt the buzzing popped up again.

One day Amber brought in an old radio after a minor porwer shortage left the town without electricity for most of the afternoon, and she'd thought it would be a great idea to listen to some tunes to pass time. Lola was sure Amber had caught at least a glipmse of sparkes crackling by her hair when she tried to pull her into a fit of improvised dancing.

If she did, she never mentioned. But that didn't quite ease Lola's mind either.

Ever the diplomat she aspired to become, she gave some days of thought to her predicament and how to fix it, if possibly not hurting Amber's feelings in the process. Amber didn't seem to notice how uncomfortable she'd been making her feel, or how dangerous that could be for both of them for that matter; and she didn't seem ro have any intention of stopping it either.

As much as Lola hated having to come out as a Lorei to people she barely even knew, she realized she might had to.

And so came the day she decided it was time to have that dreadful talk.

She had planned it out to the smallest of details. She'd brought her own special blend of tea to sip through her break, in hopes of calming any arising nerves that might keep her from going through with it. She'd practiced in front of the mirror the night before.

Determined to get over with it, after tending to the last costumer and closing the register as per usual, she made her way to the back where Amber was stacking the last of the boxes that had come in shipping earlier that day. There was purpose in her steps, and resolution on her mind. She could do this, there was fire in her lungs and her will will was stronger than any iron alloy.

The moment she stood close, Amber had turned to her with a smile that only broadened when their eyes met.

"What's up Lola-pop?"

And Lola had no idea what she was going to do.

She stood there stunned for a moment, trying to think of something in response, all of her previous ideas escaping her like balloons released into the sky.

"Uh, w-what?"

She winced at her own words, biting her tongue for good measure. Great start, Lola.

Amber didn't seem fazed. "Like lollipop? You know, cause you're sweet!" She explained with a little shrug.

If Amber had been waiting for a response to that, she didn't get one. Unless you could count Lola blushing down to her neck and her eyes nearily popping out from how wide she opened them as one. Lola didn't think so.

It did seem to get a reaction out of Amber though, whose smile faltered just a tad. "Do you not like it?"

"No." The word escaped Lola's lips before she could help it, and the small flash of hurt in Amber's eyes make her regret it even more. "I mean, yes. I mean, wait-"

Lola stuttered before taking a deep breath and shutting up, looking up at the girl in front of her a moment later to find her smile back in place like it had never left at all.

"Is there something wrong Lola-"

"I need to talk to you." She cut Amber before she could bring the new pet name out again. She didn't seem to mind, turning to give Lola her full attention with a pleased expression. Lola tried not to think about how that was a face she made every time she was the one to start a conversation. "It's about this."

"About what?"

Lola let out a sigh, shaking off the nervousness crawling back up again on her skin. "About... about the nicknames, and the compliments, and how you seem to be always trying to get on my good side sharing your pastries and..."

And how you're all over me one way or another. She thought to helself.

Amber seemed confused. "Okay, what about all of that?" She accentuated the lightness of the question with a soft look. She admitted she'd been doing it, Lola realized, and again she didn't seem to mind her noticing it.

Feeling oddly comfortable witg that thought, Lola swallowed and carried on. "It has to stop, Amber. It's making me really uncomfortable, and it's not good for either of us here."

Now it was Amber's turn to look surprised. "I thought you enjoyed it! I'm so sorry, Lola."

"It's okay, Ambs." She assured, letting out the remains of a breath she'd sort of been holding in of a while. "I figured you hadn't noticed, but I just really couldn't let you keep it up. I mean, seriously, it's not safe for us."

Amber's brows pinched at that. "You said that already. You mean because we work together?"

"What? No, Ambs." Lola huffed a little laugh. "I'm- It makes me... look," she started a little caught off by the fact she didn't think she'd have to go through this part so quickly. "Please don't freak out on me, alright? I'm sort of... not your regular girl."

God that sounded bad for so many reasons.

A little smirk curved Amber's lips, the little ring there catching light with the movement. "I mean I had figured that out a while ago. You're seriously cute." She teased.

"Ambs." Lola threatened, to which Amber merely responded with a giggle and a mumbled 'sorry'. "I mean it. I'm- well, for starters, I'm a Lorei."

Lola paused, scanning Amber's face cautiously for any sign of a negative response in her features. Her face remained impassive for a few seconds before she responded. "Yeah, I know."

"Yeah, you know..." Another huff of air left Lola's lungs. And then she caught on the answer. "Wait. What?"

Wait. What!?

Amber's cheeky smile remained where it was. "I mean it's pretty obvious? You sparkle every now and then? Don't dragonites often do that when they're like, really happy?" Amber wiggled her fingers in a little gesture at that last part.

Lola simply stared at her dumbfounded. And then, the anger kicked in. "Uh, no. That literally only happens when we're under great amounts of stress," she mockingly copied Amber's little gesture. "Where the hell did you even get that from?"

Amber blinked with big eyes, taken aback from Lola's outburst and the sardonity in her tone. "You just looked really pretty when it happened, so I assumed..."

"Oh, so you assumed it was a good thing?" Although the question was clearly rethorical, Lola caught Amber nodding innocently. It only derailed her a bit more. "Wait, so, all of this time you've been making me nervous on purpose?"

"Nervous? I thought you said I was making you uncomfortable." Amber retorted.

"It's the same damn thing! You come around being all sacarine sweet and making me blush and feeling weird and it's not cool, Ambs!"

Amber's surprise had faded for a second, giving place to a mischievous expression. "Why not?"

Lola groned at that. "Because I feel like the minute I let my guard down at that, something bad is gonna happen."

"Because I like making you blush?"

If you asked Lola what happened then, she'd look down to the floor ashamed and stay silent.

If you asked Amber what happened then, she'd tell you Lola had looked really cute before she screamed in frustration.

If you asked any passerby around the area, they'd tell you they heard one loud noise comming from the store, before a thousand colorful explosions flooded the place, a few escaping through the front where the windows had shattered.

Amber did apologize properly to Lola afterwards. Of course, it took a lot of nasty glares on her direction, and she had sputtered it out between giggles as they waited for the firetruck to arrive on the curb.

"Okay, I knew applying for a job at the fireworks store wasn't the best idea, but I had no idea that this would happen."

"Speak for yourself."

Lola grunted. "Where you counting on this?"

"Not really like this." Amber tried to soften the blow, rubbing on her now ex (because they sure as hell weren't getting hired back) coworker's shoulders as some stray sparks still fizzled around. "Not gonna lie, I was kind of hopping you'd set a couple of those things off all summer."

Lola gave her an exhasperated look. "You're the worst."

"I'm sorry! I didn't think it'd be that bad."

"But! It was!"

"I mean, yeah. But it was really pretty too." She reasoned, giving her a hopeful smile. "All those starlight trails running around the store, crashing around and making new blooms."

Lola rolled her eyes. "It's all gunpowder, Ambs."

"You can admit it was sort of magical."

Lola hugged her legs tighter, hiding her face on her knees.

After a minute that felt more like an hour, Amber let go of a breath and scooted closer to Lola.

"I am sorry, though. I knew you could get like that around me. That's why I tried to make it a little better with all the compliments." She explained, sounding truly remorseful.

Lola looked up and back at her. "What?"

Amber gave her a sad smile. "Fae," she said, pointing at herself. "I know 'nites can get weirded out around us. Thousand year wars and fucked up genetic defense mechanisms, yada yada yada. It does go both ways, if it makes you feel any better."

Lola stood up a bit straighter at that. "I never would have guessed it."

"Well, yeah." Amber shrugged. "Guess I thought you were beautiful more than I feared you'd carbonize me."

A shiver ran down Lola's skin at the sound of those words, and funny feeling blistered underneath her palms when Amber laughed just a bit.

But somehow, it didn't really feel out of place then.

Maybe it was because if anything could have blown up at that, it already had fifteen minutes ago.

Maybe it was because by then she had no doubt, there was no underlying reason for Amber to say anything she ever had, other than because she had meant them.

#geewrites

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andthisisthewonder · 6 years

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A/N: Despite starting this last year and working on it on and off since, I still only managed to finish this today. It’s a longer one at just over 10,000 words. Title from Frozen. Yes, Frozen, lol.

These past few months have been hell. Not only has Peeta been in and out of court battling his ex-wife for sole custody of his daughter, his new boss Ms. Everdeen won’t cut him any slack. So far, this holiday season sucks.

Someone Worth Melting For

The harsh clatter of high heels against linoleum announced her approach. Everyone sprang into action, a domino effect down the two rows of desks in the office. Madge clicked out of Pandora, which had been playing Christmas music behind the design she worked on. Delly shoved the brightly-colored wrappers of several Hershey kisses into her purse. With a wave of his arm, Finnick knocked all the Christmas decorations he had set out that morning into his desk drawer.

It wasn’t as if Katniss had forbidden them from celebrating Christmas. She just strongly discouraged a cluttered desk, and, for whatever reason, seemed to hate the holiday season.

Peeta shoved his cell phone in his pants pocket a second before Katniss rounded the corner. If she had heard Burl Ives urging everyone to have a “holly, jolly Christmas” as she approached, she made no indication. Unfortunately, she didn’t ignore the cell phone on Finnick’s desk. In his haste to hide the decorations, he had forgotten all about it.

While the rule about keeping personal phones out of sight during work hours existed before Katniss became their boss, she was the first one to actually enforce it. She was, above everything, a stickler for rules.

“Phone,” Katniss said as she walked down the aisle in between the two rows of desks.

The slam of Finnick’s drawer stopped her. She looked down at him, eyebrow raised. This was her usual expression when she was displeased. It was eerie how quiet she could be. Even when chewing someone out, she never raised her voice. She just turned that cold, disappointed expression toward her target and waited for him or her to wilt.

“Sorry.” Finnick forced a smile. “I was just eager to complete your request.”

“If only you applied such enthusiasm to your actual work,” Katniss said.

Finnick’s eyes widened, but before he could respond, Katniss disappeared into her office. As soon as the door shut behind her, Finnick tugged at his hair and pantomimed a silent scream.

“I thought she had a meeting,” Madge said, leaning across the aisle.

Peeta looked over his shoulder to confirm the blinds in Katniss’s office were closed. “Guess it ended early.”

“Everyone probably froze to death in Elsa’s presence,” Finnick said.

“Oh my goodness, would you stop with the Elsa crap?” Delly demanded, popping another Hershey kiss into her mouth. “I don’t know why you have to be so mean.”

Katniss had been their boss for three months, but it had only taken three days for Finnick to dub her the Ice Queen. Eventually, Madge had suggested they use the name Elsa, so they could shittalk Katniss in public without worry of repercussions. It was childish, but they desperately needed the outlet. Katniss was, to put it mildly, a real piece of work.

“Uh, maybe it’s because she’s a nightmare?” Finnick suggested.

Peeta leaned back in his chair and waved his open hand. Delly cast a surreptitious look at Katniss’s office before throwing Peeta a piece of candy.

“She really isn’t,” Delly insisted. “If you’d just have an actual conversation with her--”

“No thanks,” Finnick cut in. “I tried that. You know things have been...difficult at home.”

Delly’s expression softened. “How is Annie?”

Finnick stared down at the keyboard. Delly, Peeta, and Madge inched closer so the rest of their co-workers wouldn’t overhear. It wasn’t a huge department - there were only twelve of them - so everyone knew each other, but that didn’t mean everyone had to know everyone’s business.

“She’s back in the hospital,” Finnick said quietly.

Peeta winced, his gaze automatically flickering to the time bar on his computer: December 21. Only four days to Christmas, and Finnick might be spending it alone.

“The holidays have always been a trigger for her. I just thought we were prepared this year. I thought I was doing everything right…”

“You’re doing your best,” Delly said.

“I’ve just been stressed out. It’s hard to focus when I’m wondering how she’s feeling, if she’s lucid…” Finnick trailed off. “Anyway, I ventured into the Ice Queen’s office and asked if I could be taken off the Jensen project.”

“And?” Delly prompted.

“What do you think? She told me if I was too preoccupied to finish it, she’d be happy to relieve me of the rest of my projects too.”

A burst of anger shot through Peeta, staining his cheeks red. “She threatened to fire you?”

“Basically.”

Peeta clenched his fist and swallowed the stream of obscenities that threatened to spill from his mouth. Anger was an all too familiar emotion. He tried not to let it get the best of him, tried not to let it explode into a rage, but he couldn’t always help it. He had inherited his mother’s temper.

“Unbelievable,” Madge said. “I’d offer to help with your workload, but she just dumped two more projects into my lap.”

The landline on Peeta’s desk rang, interrupting their chat. Madge, Delly, and Finnick settled back into their chairs and returned to work as Peeta answered.

“Peeta Mellark.”

“Hello, Mr. Mellark, this is Nurse Henderson at Panem Elementary.”

Fuck.

Peeta squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he gave the person on the other end short, affirmative answers.

“I’ll be right there,” Peeta finally said, hanging up the phone.

“Everything okay?” Finnick asked.

“It’s Paige.”

“Again?” Madge asked.

Finnick sighed. “Good luck with Elsa.”

Before Peeta could move, Katniss opened her office door and cleared her throat. The noise immediately dissipated as all eyes turned toward her.

“After much consideration, I’ve decided to keep our department open the day after Christmas,” Katniss announced.

A chorus of groans rang out, but Katniss ignored them.

“With the amount of work that needs to be finished before the New Year, it would be irresponsible to close,” she continued.

Peeta had worked here for Abernathy Inc. for seven years, and every single year, the office had been closed from December 24th to the 26th. The decision was made in each individual department by the supervisor, but none of Katniss’s predecessors had ever decided to actually open the day after Christmas.

“We’re lucky Christmas Eve is a Sunday this year,” Finnick said.

“I bet she’d make us work Christmas if she could,” Madge said.

“Mr. Mellark?” Katniss called. “A word?”

Peeta followed Katniss into her office. She settled into her chair, but he remained standing.

“I need to take the afternoon off,” he said.

“Please take a seat.”

“It’s a family emergency. I really need to--”

Katniss stood suddenly, and walked around him to shut the door. When she returned to her seat, she folded her hands and looked up at him. Her face remained maddeningly calm.

“I received your time off request for next Wednesday afternoon,” she said.

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“Look, Mr. Mellark, you’re a hard worker. Your designs are always top quality, but you’ve been missing deadlines, and I know Delly’s been doing some of your work for you.”

This time the flush of his cheeks stemmed from embarrassment. He had always prided himself on being a capable, diligent employee no matter where he worked. But the past several months had been hell.

“I can’t allow you to leave early today and take off Wednesday afternoon. It’s just not feasible.”

Peeta’s jaw clenched. “I know I’m out of personal time. I can take it unpaid.”

“That’s not the issue. I need your current slate of projects completed before January 1st.”

Peeta balled his fists at his sides, his fingernails cutting into his palms, as he forced himself to remain calm. He was all too aware of the minutes ticking by. Paige was waiting for him.

“Well, Ms. Everdeen, with all due respect, this is ridiculous.” When her expression didn’t change, he nearly kicked her desk. He wanted some kind of reaction out of her, proof that she was more than a well-oiled robot. “I’m not waiting around. I told you it’s an emergency, and I’m leaving. Fire me if you want. I don’t care.”

He headed toward the door.

“Mr. Mellark,” Katniss said.

He grabbed the doorknob, but before he could storm out, two very strange things happened.

One, Katniss raised her voice, and two, she called him by his first name.

“Peeta, wait!”

It was a weird quirk of hers that she referred to everyone by their last names. Peeta would have preferred she use his first, but for whatever reason, she insisted on maintaining a certain distance from her employees.

When Peeta turned, he was surprised to find Katniss had come around her desk and had her hand outstretched, as if to stop him.

“You’re not required to disclose whatever is going on in your personal life. It’s none of my business. However, if there truly is a problem that’s going to continue to interfere with your work, then I think it’d be best if you explained what was going on.”

Peeta glanced at his watch. Anxiety burned in his chest, but he forced himself to take a breath. Paige was safe. She knew he was coming. He’d get to her soon.

Katniss gestured to the chair across from her desk. With great reluctance, Peeta sat down.

“Would you prefer I get someone from HR in here?” she asked.

“No, it’s…” Peeta stared down at his hands. “I’ve been in and out of court these past few months battling my ex-wife for full custody of our daughter.”

A beat passed as Katniss absorbed the information. “I see.”

“The court dates were often changed at the last minute. I needed a lot of time off.”

“Of course,” Katniss said.

“Your predecessor, Mr. Crane, didn’t care one way or another about my schedule as long as I completed my work.”

“So you never discussed it with him,” she said.

“No. And I didn’t feel comfortable discussing it with you.” He still didn’t, honestly, but this seemed like his only option.

Peeta chanced a glance up. Katniss’s eyes were fixed on the green stapler on her desk. Her expression was all wrong. Instead of cool indifference or even anger, she looked concerned.

“My daughter hasn’t taken the past few months well, as you can imagine.”

“How old is she?”

“She just turned six.” Peeta sat up straighter, but Katniss didn’t make eye contact. “She’s been dealing with a lot of anxiety, which is why I’ve been leaving the office early. She gets upset at school, and I pick her up.”

Silence stretched between them. Peeta assumed Katniss was judging him as either an incompetent father or an overindulgent one.

“I know I can’t keep pulling her out of school, but for now, I need her to know that I’ll come if she needs me. No matter what.”

Something truly miraculous happened next. Katniss smiled. It was a small smile, barely an upturn of her mouth, but it transformed her entire face. She looked softer, younger. More importantly, she looked like she understood.

He had a feeling that he could stop now, and she’d let him go, but it felt good to explain the situation to a neutral party. Finnick, Madge, and Delly would tell him he was making the right decisions no matter what. Katniss wouldn’t humor him.

“I’m taking her to her first therapy appointment on Wednesday. Usually you have to make it weeks in advance, but they managed to squeeze her in.”

“That’s great, Peeta.” Katniss cleared her throat and smoothed her blouse even though it was already free of wrinkles. “Perhaps we can compromise. I do need you to complete your current projects, but I would never ask you to choose between work and your daughter.”

Peeta nodded as he tried to hide his surprise. Katniss seemed exactly like the kind of person who would ask such a thing.

“I appreciate that.”

“Why don’t you bring your daughter back here?” Katniss suggested. “Get some work done today. Then, you can take off next Wednesday afternoon.”

“You want me to bring her here?”

“You can use my office. It’ll give her room to move around.”

Katniss was already standing and collecting her things before Peeta found his voice.

“Are you serious?”

“Unless you’re not comfortable having her here?”

“No, that’s not--” He stopped. He didn’t want to explain that her offer had surprised him because he believed her to be a cold, callous person who valued work above all else. Somehow, he doubted that’d go over well. “I just don’t want to put you out.”

“I can work at your desk,” she said as she gathered a pile of files. “It’s not a problem.”

Who was this person? Not only had she been completely understanding, but she also seemed eager to help.

“I--I’m going to go pick her up.”

“Okay,” Katniss said without looking up from the files she sorted.

Peeta hesitated before nodding once and exiting the office.

Finnick looked up as Peeta grabbed his coat off the back of his chair.

“Everything okay?” Finnick asked.

“I have no idea what just happened,” Peeta said as he tugged on his coat. Without further explanation, he turned the corner and hurried toward the elevator.

By the time Peeta returned to the office, Paige’s tears had dried and she no longer felt sick to her stomach.

“Well hey there, Miss Paige,” Finnick said, his wide eyes sliding from her face to Peeta’s. He cocked his head to the side in question, but Peeta shook his head.

“Hi,” she said quietly, clinging to her father’s leg.

“Paige!” Madge and Delly both waved, which she reluctantly returned.

“Paige is going to hang out here for the afternoon.” Peeta stuck a flash drive into the computer and began loading it with files.

“You need me to grab an extra chair?” Finnick asked, already on his feet. “I’m sure the meeting room on twelfth won’t miss it.”

“Actually, that won’t be necessary. We’re going to work in Ms. Everdeen’s office.”

“Elsa?” Finnick blurted out.

Paige, who knew Elsa only as the queen from Frozen, blinked up at him.

“Ms. Everdeen,” Peeta corrected as he ejected the flash drive. “We’ll be in her office, and she’ll be at my desk.”

“Oh.” Finnick deflated. “Super.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Peeta said, leading Paige down the aisle. The rest of his co-workers greeted Paige with smiles and welcomes, but she only waved quietly back.

Katniss was hunched over her desk, her back to the open door when Peeta and Paige came in. Peeta handed Paige her backpack.

“Why don’t you put that on the couch?” he said.

Katniss turned around at the sound of his voice. The smile she wore disappeared as her gaze landed on the back of Paige’s head.

“Ms. Everdeen, this is my daughter, Paige.”

Katniss stared, lips parted, her expression blank until Paige returned to her father’s side.

“Ms. Everdeen?” Peeta prompted.

“Hi!” Katniss blurted out. “I’m sorry. It’s just...she looks so much like you.” She gestured between the two of them. While both were blonde and blue-eyed, Peeta had always thought Paige took after her mother.

“Paige, this is my boss, Ms. Everdeen.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Katniss said, taking a step closer. “I really like your hair.”

Paige grabbed one of the blonde braids that hung over her shoulders and frowned down at it. “Daddy did them,” Paige said. “But he made them too loose. They got messed up at school.”

Peeta tugged on her other braid. “I’m getting better. I just need more practice.”

“Do you want me to fix them for you?” Katniss asked.

Peeta’s mouth fell open, but Katniss didn’t notice. Her focus was completely on Paige.

“Do you know how to braid?” Paige asked.

“I do,” Katniss said.

“Can you do a French braid?”

Katniss nodded. “Come sit down.”

Paige settled onto the couch sideways, folding her legs in front of her.

“You don’t have to do that,” Peeta said.

While Katniss didn’t seem like the type of person to do something she didn’t want to, he still worried. Not only had he forced her out of her office, but he was now eating into her time. It didn’t matter that she had volunteered both.

“I’ll just take an early lunch break,” Katniss said as she pulled out a small brush from her purse.

“I just don’t want to keep you.”

Katniss’s hand froze halfway to Paige’s hair. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m overstepping.”

“Wait. That’s not what I meant. Just ignore me.”

Katniss bit her lip. He had never seen her look anything but one hundred percent certain of herself.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes. Please fix the disaster I braided into my daughter’s hair.”

“It’s not a disaster, Daddy,” Paige said.

“Give yourself a little credit. This is pretty good.” Katniss pulled the two elastics out of Paige’s hair before carefully unraveling her braids.

Peeta sat behind Katniss’s desk and watched as she brushed Paige’s hair with a gentle hand. He stuck the flash drive into the computer, but his gaze wandered back to the couch before he could open a single file.

He had to get some work done. He had to show Katniss he could balance his personal life with work. But then Katniss asked a question.

“What grade are you in?”

“First,” Paige replied.

“Do you get homework in first grade?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind?”

There wasn’t much substance to the conversation, but it was still a conversation. Paige had been so quiet since her mother had moved out. She always answered Peeta’s questions, but she wasn’t her usual chatty self. Typically, when he arrived home from work, she’d throw herself into his arms and talk his ear off about her day at school.

Her teacher had mentioned how withdrawn she’d become, how she no longer raised her hand or played with her friends.

But here she was having a quiet conversation with an adult she had never met before. Maybe it was easier for Paige to speak when she didn’t have to look at the other person, or maybe she realized how rude it would be to remain silent while Katniss did her hair.

Either way, this day was getting stranger.

A couple of minutes later, Peeta still hadn’t made a single edit in Photoshop, but Katniss had finished Paige’s braid.

“There,” Katniss said softly. “All done.”

Paige slipped off the couch and stood in front of her father. “How does it look?”

“Gorgeous,” Peeta said. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and shot Katniss an apologetic look before snapping a picture.

Paige leaned in close to see. “Wow!” she said. “You’re really good.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Katniss said as she stood and slipped her purse over her shoulder.

Her comment surprised Peeta. He had never seen her hair in any sort of braid before. Most of the time it was pulled back in a low, sleek ponytail. Other times, she wore it in a bun, not a hair out of place.

For the first time, Peeta wondered if Katniss had children or siblings. There were no family pictures in her office, and she usually arrived earlier and stayed later than everyone else. If she had family, she didn’t see them much.

“Thank you. Can I do your hair now?” Paige asked.

Katniss opened her mouth, but Peeta spoke first. “Ms. Everdeen has a lot of work to do. We shouldn’t keep her.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“It was very nice to meet you, Paige,” Katniss said. Even though she wore a skirt and heels, she crouched down so she was eye level with Paige and held out her hand. Paige grasped it with her own and they shook.

“It was very nice to meet you too, Miss Everdeen.”

Peeta beamed, proud of his daughter’s good manners.

“Please, call me Katniss.”

Peeta did a double take, but Katniss didn’t notice. She was already out the door.

When Peeta and Paige emerged a little after five, he found half the office gone, including Katniss.

“She left for a conference call an hour ago,” Finnick said, shrugging on his coat. “She said she didn’t want to disturb us with all the tedium.”

Peeta’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Did she actually make a joke?”

“I think she did,” Finnick said. “You know, I thought it was going to be a nightmare having her out here with us, but it was fine. Just quieter than usual. She even accepted a Hershey kiss from Delly.”

After Finnick switched off his computer monitor, he followed Peeta and Paige to the elevator.

“You going to explain what all this was today?” Finnick asked.

“What do you mean?”

The trio walked onto the elevator. Finnick hit the button for the Lobby. “You went from being in some sort of trouble to hijacking her office for an afternoon.”

Peeta didn’t want to go into too much detail with Paige standing at his side, so he simply shrugged. “We compromised.”

“Are you sure that’s all you did?” Finnick asked. “Because before she left, she told me to have a good evening.”

“Miss Katniss did my hair,” Paige said. “She’s really good at braiding.”

Finnick’s eyes widened as he studied Paige’s hair. “She, uh, did a good job.”

“Yeah,” Paige said. “She’s really nice.”

For once, Finnick didn’t have a single thing to say.

The next day, Peeta stepped off the elevator balancing three trays of cookies Paige had helped him bake the night before.

The company had already thrown their official holiday party. It had been a stuffy affair held in the ballroom of a hotel down the street. Peeta hadn’t attended as he hadn’t wanted to bother his sister-in-law, Hailey, who served as Paige’s unofficial babysitter. Hailey swore she didn’t mind watching Paige, but Peeta still felt guilty. As a Registered Nurse in the Emergency Room at Panem Memorial, Hailey had a crazy work schedule. There was no way Peeta was going to ask her to watch Paige after a twelve-hour shift just so he could wear an uncomfortable suit and mingle with people he barely knew.

Turns out, he didn’t miss much as he got a summary from Finnick the next day: “Absolutely awful. Terribly boring. But the booze was free.”

Individual departments had their own parties if they wanted, which Peeta’s had done for the past few years. He had worried Katniss would disapprove even though the party was after-hours and offsite, but she never commented on it. Even after Delly invited her - which Finnick had begged her not to do - and Katniss had politely declined, she said nothing more about it.

Delly was holding the potluck-slash-booze fest at her apartment a couple of hours after work, so he decided to bring the cookies in now. She could cart them home and serve them later.

“Peeta, no!” Madge frowned at him from her desk. “You’re not coming tonight, are you?”

“No sitter,” Peeta said. He didn’t want to bother Hailey, and he was reluctant to leave Paige with someone he didn’t know. Eventually, when the custody issue was settled and his divorce was finalized, Peeta would look for a sitter outside of his family. But for now, he just couldn’t leave Paige with a stranger.

“You suck!” Finnick called as Peeta disappeared into the breakroom.

Peeta nearly stopped in the doorway when he saw Katniss leaning against the counter, stirring a mug of coffee as she stared into the distance. He quickly recovered and set the trays down beside her.

“Good morning, Ms. Everdeen.”

She startled at the sound of his voice. “Good morning, Mr. Mellark,” she replied. “Is it someone’s birthday?”

“No, these are cookies for, uh, tonight’s Christmas party.” He didn’t know why he was so reluctant to mention it around her. It wasn’t as if Katniss could stop them from having it.

“I thought Ms. Cartwright was hosting.”

“She is, but I can’t make it, and I’m in charge of dessert.”

“Can’t have a party without dessert.” She took a sip of her coffee.

Peeta thought he caught a small smile hidden behind her mug, but he couldn’t be sure.

Katniss was in her typical professional attire: pencil skirt, matching blazer, a white collared shirt peeking out from underneath. Her hair was pulled back into its usual ponytail. Despite all this, she seemed a little more approachable today, a little warmer.

Instead of hightailing it out of there as he would have any other day, he offered her a cookie.

“A cookie?” she echoed.

“Yeah. I’ve got peanut butter blossoms, chocolate chip, and sugar cookies.”

Without waiting for her response, he opened the top tray. He almost grabbed a Christmas tree-shaped sugar cookie before he remembered her dislike for the holiday. Instead he grabbed a star, decorated with red and green icing.

“You made these?” she asked, peeking at the assortment over his shoulder.

“Yeah. Paige and I had a baking party last night.”

He grabbed a paper towel off the counter and wrapped the cookie in it.

“I shouldn’t,” she said as he tried to hand it to her. “They’re for the party.”

“But you can’t go,” he reminded her. “You should get at least one.”

“Thank you.”

He was surprised by the sincerity in her voice. She sounded genuinely appreciative as if he had presented her with a very thoughtful gift.

“What about you?” she asked.

He grinned. “Don’t worry. There’s a plate at home for Paige and I to share.”

“No, I mean the party. If you don’t mind my asking, why can’t you attend?”

“Oh.” His smile faded. “No sitter.”

“That’s unfortunate. You weren’t able to attend the company’s party either.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“I guess.” Her mouth twisted with doubt. “You seem stressed. You could probably use a fun evening with your friends.”

“You too,” he said without thinking.

Her eyebrows shot up. He braced himself for a reprimand, but she didn’t deliver one. “I don’t have any children,” she said. “My nights are quiet.”

That was one mystery about her solved. He shrugged. “It’s just drinking and listening to Christmas music for a few hours.”

“I’m sure it’s more than that. I could…” She stopped, as if reconsidering whatever she was going to say. She glanced at the closed door. “I could watch Paige for you.”

If he had thought Katniss couldn’t surprise him more than she had yesterday, he was sorely mistaken. There was no way he had heard her correctly.

“You could...watch Paige?”

“I have a lot of experience watching children,” she said. “I can cook, I’m CPR-certified, and I could come to you.”

“I…”

While Katniss’s offer was completely unexpected, he was more surprised that he was considering it. She had gotten along with Paige so well yesterday. And she certainly wasn’t a stranger.

“I’m sorry.” Katniss dumped the remainder of her coffee into the sink and rinsed out her mug. “That was inappropriate. I just wanted…” She shook her head and put her mug into the dish rack to dry.

“No, I was just...surprised,” Peeta finally said. It was the word of the day. “I figured you were busy since you couldn’t come to the party.”

“Oh. No, I don’t have plans, but I know the invite was just a courtesy. No one really wants their boss at a party.”

Peeta almost contradicted her, but he decided there was no point. Katniss would never believe him. More importantly though, she didn’t seem hurt by it. It was just another fact of life to her.

If Peeta hadn’t seen her with Paige the day before, there was no way he would consider this. But Katniss was experienced, and he didn’t doubt she was responsible. And Paige had asked about her before going to bed last night…

“You really don’t mind?” He wanted to ask her again. Maybe twice more. He couldn’t believe this was really happening.

“Definitely not. What time should I be over?”

“Six-thirty would be great,” he said. “Paige will already have had dinner and be in her pajamas. Bedtime is eight-thirty.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

“I’ll be home by eleven. Earlier if you need me to.”

This time there was no hesitation in her smile. “You don’t have to rush home. I’ll bring a book.”

“I have Netflix,” he blurted out.

“Even better.”

He rattled off his address, and she nodded.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she said.

As he watched her leave the kitchen, he thought about how her words, when considered out of context, sounded like the promise of a date.

Paige didn’t take the news of Peeta’s plans to go out very well, but she brightened at the identity of her babysitter.

“Do you think she’ll braid my hair again?”

“I’m sure if you ask nicely, she will,” Peeta said.

Paige considered this.

“I’ll have my phone with me.” He wanted to reassure her that he would come home if she needed him without encouraging her to call. She had to get better at being away from him. It was a hard balance to maintain.

Finally, she nodded. “Okay.”

Peeta’s doorbell rang at exactly 6:25. Of course Katniss was early. He swung open the door to find someone much younger - and shorter - than the Ms. Everdeen he worked with. It wasn’t as if he expected Katniss to show up in her skirt and blazer, but he had never imagined her wearing anything else. He couldn’t.

But here she was dressed in skinny jeans and a plain green sweater. Her hair was braided and hanging over her right shoulder. He couldn’t believe how much younger she looked, how much softer. This was a woman he would approach in a bar, a woman he could hold a conversation with. He had always thought Katniss was beautiful, but it was more in an objective way. She was beautiful, sure, but she was also a pain-in-the-ass.

Tonight though, he forgot about the frustration and anger. Tonight she wasn’t Ms. Everdeen. She was just Katniss.

“You’re shorter,” he blurted out.

There was that smile again. Wide and unguarded. “I wear heels at work.”

Right. Of course. He knew that. He had just never considered what she looked like out of them.

He gave Katniss a tour of the downstairs, Paige joining them as they walked through the living room. Katniss lingered in front of the pictures on the wall, a combination of photos of Paige and paintings Peeta had completed over the years. She didn’t ask or comment on them, although he could tell she wanted to by the way her gaze kept drifting back to them. He knew it was the rules she lived her life by that kept her from asking. She was overly concerned with coming off as rude or inappropriate, which is why this entire night felt so surreal. She didn’t want to overstep, yet here she was, in his house, babysitting his daughter.

“Can I show you my room?” Paige asked when they reached the kitchen.

“Sure.”

Katniss followed Paige upstairs. A couple of moments later, he heard laughter. He wanted to follow them, find out what was so funny, what had managed to crack not only Katniss’s serious exterior but Paige’s as well, but he didn’t want to interrupt.

After they returned to the kitchen, Peeta took Paige aside and asked once more if she was comfortable staying home with Katniss. The stress of the last few months had turned him into a worrier. He wondered if Paige could sense it, if her anxiety was his fault.

“It’s okay,” Paige said. “Miss Katniss said we could watch a movie if it was alright with you.”

“Of course,” Peeta said. “Bedtime at eight-thirty. Don’t eat too many cookies.”

Paige nodded.

“Why don’t you get two glasses of milk for you and Katniss while I talk to her?”

As Paige disappeared back into the kitchen, he gestured for Katniss to come into the living room.

“So you’re sure you don’t mind doing this?” he asked.

“Peeta, I’m already here. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to actually do it.”

She had called him Peeta again. He liked his first name on her lips.

“But I do need your phone number,” she said. “Just in case I need to reach you.”

She stored his number in her phone after he recited it. “Do you have a landline?” she asked.

When he shook his head, she looked back down at her cell phone. “I’ll send you a text, so you have my number too.”

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out to find a simple “Hello” from an unknown number. He added her to his contacts, debating whether or not to list her as Ms. Everdeen. Finally, he just typed in her full name.

“I’ll be back by eleven,” he promised.

She shrugged. “Take your time. Paige and I will be fine.”

Finnick threw his hands in the air as Peeta followed Delly into the living room. “You made it!”

Peeta grinned at his friends as Madge handed him a hard cider.

“You found a sitter?” Madge asked.

Peeta took a long drink as he considered what to say. Katniss hadn’t mentioned anything about keeping her actions a secret, but he doubted she wanted others to know. She was so careful about keeping her personal life separate from her work life.

“Hailey,” Peeta finally said. “She insisted I go out and have some fun.”

“Your sister-in-law is amazing,” Finnick said.

“I know,” Peeta agreed. “Now where are you hiding all the food?”

Delly laughed and led him into the kitchen.

When Peeta left at ten-fifteen, the party showed no sign of slowing down. Everyone was stressed out for one reason or another. They all needed an outlet. Finnick, Delly, and Madge begged him to stay, but he had to get home. While the party had worked wonders for his anxiety, he couldn’t keep reality out forever.

He walked into his house at 10:30 to find Katniss curled under a throw blanket on the couch watching the Hallmark channel.

“You do like Christmas,” he said without thinking.

Katniss leaned back against the couch cushion, her head tilted up so she could see him. “I never said I didn’t.”

Peeta racked his brain, trying to come up with a specific example of her dislike for the holiday, but came up empty. It was just the vibe she gave off.

“I told you that you didn’t have to hurry home,” she said as he sat down beside her. Well, almost beside her. He left a respectable gap at least a foot wide between them.

“I know. I just didn’t want to take advantage.”

“You didn’t. I had fun with Paige. She even talked me into letting her stay up until nine.”

Peeta’s eyes widened. “You broke a rule?”

Katniss stood and folded the blanket. “The babysitter always extends bedtime. And gives an extra cookie. That’s why they’re the babysitter and not the parent.” She draped the blanket over the back of the couch. “So really, I was just following a different set of rules.”

Peeta laughed. “Well, thank you for telling me. I’ll need to know these things when I finally find a permanent babysitter for Paige.”

“Until then, I don’t mind watching her.” Katniss rolled her eyes. “Stop looking so surprised.”

“Can you blame me? How many people turn to their boss for child care?”

Katniss sat back down and stared at her lap. “I’m just trying to be helpful. Paige is sweet, and you’re...a really good employee.”

“Thanks.”

“I...I don’t want to bring up anything uncomfortable. And you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but...Paige talked to me about your ex-wife.”

Everything good about that night disappeared. The food and alcohol which had tasted so good going down suddenly curdled in his stomach.

“She did?”

“She told me some very personal things, and I didn’t think it was right to keep that from you,” Katniss said.

He buried his face in his hands, hoping not having to look at Katniss would make this easier. Could Paige have told her everything that had happened? It wasn’t a secret, or it wasn’t supposed to be, but Peeta had never told his friends the complete truth. Paige refused to talk about it. Peeta worried what it would do to her to keep it all inside, but he didn’t push her even when the Department of Children, Youth, and Families had interviewed her. He wanted her to talk to someone, but he had never expected that Katniss would be the person she opened up to.

“What did she say?” he asked.

“She thinks everything is her fault. Your ex-wife moving out, the divorce, your stress...she’s afraid you’re mad at her.”

His heart plummeted, landing in the swirling mess of acid eating away at his stomach. His worst possible fear had come true, and of course, Ms. Everdeen, the source of his stress at work, had to be the messenger.

“But I told her…” Peeta stood and hurried into the kitchen, worried that if he didn’t move right away, he’d be sick on the living room floor.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

Peeta spun around at the sound of Katniss’s voice to find her standing in the entrance of the kitchen.

“I told her I wasn’t mad. I told her it wasn’t her fault. I’ve said it so many times,” Peeta said.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” Peeta slammed his fist on the counter. Katniss jumped, and he immediately regretted his actions. He had to keep his temper under control. He had to stop acting like his mother, like Glimmer...he was better than this.

“That night we spent at the hotel, I told her what her mother did was wrong. That she didn’t deserve to be insulted or hit or…” Peeta trailed off.

He had tried so hard to avoid becoming his mother that he hadn’t noticed he’d married a woman just like her. He’d never forget the night he came home early from work to find Glimmer screaming at Paige over a spilled cup of juice. He’d never forget the the sight of Glimmer pulling her hand back or the sound it made when her palm connected with Paige’s face.

How long had it been like that? How could he not have noticed?

He had very nearly grabbed Glimmer and thrown her across the room. He wanted to rage and yell and hurt her the same way, but Paige’s tears had stopped him. He couldn’t fight Glimmer’s violence with violence of his own. He picked up Paige, told Glimmer she had twenty-four hours to move her stuff out of the house, and spent the night at a hotel in the next town over.

“You did the right thing,” Katniss said. “It sounds like you’ve done all the right things.”

Peeta shook his head. “I let it happen. How could I not have known?”

“It doesn’t matter that you didn’t see it at first. You can’t change that. Abusers are good at hiding their true colors. What matters is that you took immediate action. You didn’t make excuses. You didn’t give her another chance to hurt Paige.”

He stared at Katniss for a long moment. Katniss wouldn’t lie to him. She wasn’t in the habit of softening a blow or holding back. He had seen how blunt she could be at work. He let out a shuddering breath and tried to absorb her words.

“Once all of this is over, and you have sole custody, things will get back to normal. Paige will get better,” Katniss continued.

“Thank you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry too. I know you try to keep your distance and now...”

“It’s okay.” She fiddled with her braid and looked down at her feet. “I should probably get going.”

“You don’t have to.” He didn’t want to be alone, cycling through thoughts of shame and guilt for the rest of the night. Her hesitation suggested she might not want to leave either. “Weren’t you watching a movie?”

“Yeah. Who knows how it’ll end? Hallmark can be so unpredictable.”

He laughed. For the longest time, he had assumed Katniss didn’t possess a sense of humor. As it turned out, she had just been hiding that dry sarcasm.

They settled back on the couch. The silence between them wasn’t exactly tense, but it wasn’t an easy, relaxing one either.

“It’s not that I don’t care,” Katniss said as the movie cut to commercial.

“About what?”

“About you and...everyone else at work. I know everyone thinks I’m some sort of ice queen who doesn’t care, but...I do.”

Peeta turned at least three different shades of red. Was it possible she knew about their nickname for her? Her use of “ice queen” was way too coincidental otherwise. “I don’t think that.”

“Don’t lie. It’s okay.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. “I just have trouble connecting with people. Part of me doesn’t want to.”

“Why?”

“It’s just easier.”

At first he thought the conversation was over. Her terse answer didn’t invite a follow up question. Tension had sprouted between them, and he knew the topic of conversation was the cause. The commercial break ended, they both stared at the television, but after another moment, she spoke.

“I’ve been alone for a long time. I’m not sure I remember how to not be alone.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he said.

“No, I want to.” She brushed her braid off her shoulder before settling her hands back in her lap. They were clasped together so tightly, her knuckles were white. “My dad died when I was eleven, and my sister...she was killed by a drunk driver over winter break her senior year of high school.”

“Katniss, I...I’m so sorry.” Without thinking, he laid his hand over hers and squeezed.

“It was hard after my father died. I did everything I could to make sure Prim was happy, that she never wanted for anything. I did odd jobs around my neighborhood, and when I finally turned fifteen, I found a job at the grocery store. When I graduated from high school, I got a secretary position at Abernathy’s.”

Peeta didn’t know what to say. He had no idea Katniss had been with the company for so long. If she had started as a secretary and worked her way up to a managerial position, she was obviously smart and capable. She had to know what she was doing.

“I saved every cent I could to make sure Prim could go to whatever college she wanted,” Katniss continued. “She wanted to be a doctor.”

And then she had died a few months shy of her high school graduation. Imagining Katniss’s loss cracked his chest open. He tried to make it real, imagine it as one of his brothers, but he couldn’t. It was unfathomable.

“It was all for nothing in the end,” Katniss said. “A college fund for no one.”

He wanted to pull her into his arms. He knew whatever he said right now wouldn’t help. But he doubted Katniss would allow it.

“After she died, I just kept working and saving. I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Katniss was stuck in survival mode. It sounded as if she had been there since her father’s death, and had never found her way out. Her grief was a labyrinth, and while he couldn’t relate to her specific tragedies, he knew what it was to forget how to live. To wander the maze with no hope of escape, just the drive to go around one more corner, make it through one more day.

A tear slipped down Katniss’s cheek. She practically slapped herself in her haste to wipe it away.

“I shouldn’t have told you all that,” she said.

“I’m glad you did.”

She shook her head. “Can I tell you something else then? Something I shouldn’t and clearly makes me a terrible boss?”

Peeta’s heart rate rose as he realized how close the two of them now were. His hand still rested on hers.

“Mr. Abernathy is considering layoffs in the new year,” she said.

Peeta blinked in surprise. At first, he felt ashamed that he had hoped Katniss would confess something else, but it quickly changed to shock. “Layoffs?”

“It’s why I’ve been so hard on everyone. Why I want to open the day after Christmas. You’re all hard-working, talented employees. I don’t want to give Mr. Abernathy a reason to doubt your dedication.”

Peeta sat back and covered his face. He wanted to laugh. He could feel it bubbling up in his throat.

“I can’t believe this,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Katniss said. “I know I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s holiday. I just wanted you to understand.”

“We were so wrong about you,” Peeta said.

“I don’t know,” Katniss said with a small smile. “The nickname Elsa sort of fits.”

“Oh my god.” He dropped his hands. “You know about that?”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“I am so sorry. You just, you seemed so…”

She shrugged. “Usually I don’t care what people think about me. But I guess I just wanted you to know that I’m not as bad as you think.”

He couldn’t tell if there was a deeper meaning to her confession. Out of all the employees in the office, she specifically wanted him to know she was a real live person with real live feelings? Or had she confessed because he was the only one she had ever seen outside of the office?

It didn't matter. Or it couldn’t, at least not right now. Tears were still drying on her face, but at least she was smiling.

“I have to ask you then...why didn’t you lessen Finnick’s workload when he told you about his wife?”

Katniss’s smile immediately disappeared. “What about his wife?”

Shit. “You mean, he didn’t explain why he was feeling so stressed out?”

“No. He said he felt overwhelmed, and was hoping to give one of his projects to someone else. I thought he was trying to get out of doing work. I had no idea something else was going on.”

“I thought he told you.”

Katniss rubbed her forehead, her mouth twisted in a scowl. “It doesn’t matter that he didn’t. He felt stressed out, and I dismissed him. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Seneca.”

“Mr. Crane?” Peeta asked.

“He warned me about Finnick before I took over. Told me he liked to slack off. I shouldn’t have listened. I should have waited and formed my own opinion.” She met Peeta’s eyes. “I’ll fix it. I promise.”

“You’re too hard on yourself. Everything will be fine.”

“And you’re way too optimistic.” She glanced at the cable box beneath the television and sighed. “I should get going before I tell you anything else I regret.”

“Hey.” He touched her arm. “I don’t regret what you know about me now. I’m glad Paige found someone to open up to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. So you shouldn’t regret it either. It’s good to get out of your own head every once in a while.”

She smiled, and once more, his pulse raced. He couldn’t decide if this attraction to Katniss had been there all along, buried beneath the stress she caused, or if it had developed over the evening as the real Katniss came into focus.

He walked her to the door and thanked her once more for watching Paige. And then before he could change his mind, he blurted out, “You should come over Sunday night. For dinner.”

Her eyes widened “On Christmas Eve? Are you sure that’s--”

“Don’t say appropriate.”

“I don’t want to intrude on your time with your daughter.”

“Are you kidding? Paige would be thrilled if you joined us.”

“Is this a pity invite? Because you know I’ll be alone?”

He shook his head. “Sorry. No pity invites here.”

She bit her lip. “What’s the dress code?”

He suppressed a laugh, but he was sure she could see the amusement on his face. “How about you dress to your comfort, and I’ll dress up or down accordingly?”

“Okay.”

“Come for six?”

“Okay,” she repeated. “I’m going to leave before I realize this is a terrible idea and change my mind.”

“Better hurry,” he said. “I’ll let you know how that Hallmark movie ends.”

While Peeta failed to talk to Paige about what she said to Katniss, he succeeded in telling his daughter that Katniss was coming to dinner.

She was, to put it mildly, excited. “She is so cool, Dad! We watched Tangled, and it turns out Rapunzel is her favorite princess too! She said she could give me Rapunzel hair.”

While Peeta had no idea what Paige meant by “Rapunzel hair,” he did learn a lot about Katniss thanks to his daughter. For example, Katniss loved to read and had been thrilled to read a chapter of Charlotte’s Web to Paige before bed. She practiced yoga regularly and had shown Paige a few poses. And, most importantly, her favorite kind of pie was apple, and therefore, it was on the menu for tonight.

Two minutes before six, the doorbell rang. As soon as Peeta opened the door, Katniss thrust a bottle of wine at him.

“I picked this up, and then I realized I have no idea if you even like wine.” She pulled a box of green tea out of her purse and pushed it into his free hand. “But I know you like tea, so I have backup.”

He was surprised to find the tea she had purchased matched the kind he kept at work. Apparently, without him noticing, she had been paying attention.

“You’re in luck. I enjoy both wine and tea. Come on in,” he said.

He moved aside, giving her room to step over the threshold. He was lucky his hands were full because instinct had him reaching for the small of her back to guide her. He shut the door, and they both went into the kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

“Water’s fine. Thank you.”

As he grabbed a glass from the cabinet, he felt the distance between them, the easy familiarity of the other night gone. He worried they wouldn’t be able to recreate it until Katniss held out her arms.

“I settled on a sweater dress and tights. Not fancy, but not too casual. What do you think?” she asked.

He glanced down at his dark blue jeans and red sweater and nodded his approval. “I think I don’t have to change. I did have a suit hanging in my closet just in case.”

“What would you have done if I had shown up in my pajamas?”

“I would have left you standing on the doorstep while I ran to change into sweatpants.”

“Alright. Next time it’s sweatpants.”

She turned away and took a sip of her water, missing the look of shock on his face. Next time. There was going to be a next time.

Katniss pulled a set of flower clips from her purse. “Is Paige upstairs?”

“Yeah.” He eyed the clips. “What are those?”

“I told her next time I saw her, I’d make her look like Rapunzel, which means lots of flowers.”

An unexpected warmth filled him as he studied Katniss. She appeared genuinely excited.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said.

“It’s fun doing someone’s hair again.” She swept past him and disappeared up the stairs.

Her sister. Of course. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it before. Katniss had a talent for braiding and watching children because she had done so much for her younger sister.

When Katniss and Paige came down fifteen minutes later, Paige wore her Rapunzel dress, her hair in a long braid down her back with at least a dozen flowers decorating it. She and Katniss looked so happy, it made Peeta’s chest ache.

“Ready for dinner?” he asked.

Peeta decided not to enforce Paige’s bedtime, knowing she’d fall asleep eventually. Halfway through the live action version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, she passed out in Peeta’s lap. Katniss carefully plucked the flower clips out of Paige’s hair before Peeta picked her up and deposited her in bed.

When he returned to the couch, he sat a little closer to Katniss. Not enough to touch her or make her uncomfortable. Just a little closer.

“Thank you for dinner tonight,” she said. “The apple pie was delicious.”

“You have Paige to thank for that.”

“You even remembered the vanilla ice cream.” She finished the small amount of wine remaining in her glass and looked over at him. “I guess I should go?”

He liked that she posed it as a question, that she hadn’t bothered to stand up or pull on her boots.

“If you go now, you’ll miss the best part,” he said.

“Something better than delicious food and good company?”

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

A moment after he disappeared down the hall into his home office, he reappeared with two Santa hats. He threw one to Katniss before tugging the other onto his head.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Are you ready for elf duty?”

Her eyes lit up. “You mean put out presents for Paige?”

“We also have to eat the cookies she left out. If you’re up to the task.”

Katniss stood up and pulled the hat on. “Lead the way.”

A week ago, if someone had told Peeta that Ms. Everdeen, his rigid, overly serious boss would be in his house helping him place gifts around the Christmas tree, he would have doubled over in laughter. But this woman next to him, this sweet, thoughtful, beautiful woman was nothing like the Ms. Everdeen he knew. He recognized traces of her. There was an intense focus on her face as she arranged the gifts, and despite the confessions they had shared with each other, she still hadn’t asked him about the art on his walls.

But there was warmth in her expression now, and her smiles came so easily. He could tease her without worry of reprimand. He could notice how beautiful she was and how good she smelled, and when he touched her hand, he could pretend it was an accident.

After they had carefully arranged the presents, they sat on the floor, the lights dim, wine glasses in hand, and talked. For two hours, Katniss came into sharper focus as whatever walls she usually hid behind crumbled. The blue, red, and green lights from the tree danced across her face as she threw her head back and laughed at the story of Paige’s first encounter with a mall Santa. When she set her wine glass down and looked over at him with bright eyes and flushed cheeks, he couldn’t help but lean closer.

“Has she been back to see Santa since?” Katniss asked.

“Yes, but we never made it this year.”

“No time?”

“No, there was time. Christmas just felt different this year, I guess. Usually, she starts dropping hints about going to see Santa on Thanksgiving, but it didn’t come up this year.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. You definitely made up for it.” She tilted her head toward the mounds of gifts surrounding the tree.

Peeta laughed. Yeah, guilt had definitely been the driving force behind his purchases this year.

“Thank you for coming over tonight,” he said. “Paige had a lot of fun with you. I don’t think it would have been the same without you.”

Katniss shook her head and looked down at her lap. “I highly doubt that. You two make a wonderful little family.”

“Thanks, but I mean it. It made a difference to me.”

He reached out to touch her hair. When she didn’t move away, he tucked a few strands behind her ear. She swallowed, and he resisted the urge to press his mouth to her throat and trace the movement with his tongue.

“You couldn’t stand me a few days ago,” she said.

“I was an idiot a few days ago,” he replied. “I should have listened to Delly. She kept saying if we just had a conversation with you, we’d realize you weren’t so bad.”

“Is that what I should do then? Start offering child care to all my employees? Crash their holiday dinners?”

“I hope not,” he said. “I kind of thought I was special.”

“You are.” She squeezed her eyes shut. It was hard to tell with the lights so dim, but he thought he saw her blush. “I mean…”

When she didn’t try to explain further, he leaned forward, and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and unsure, but the longer it went on without her pulling away, the bolder he became. He cupped the side of her face, his fingers disappearing into her hair, and sucked on her bottom lip. She grabbed a fistful of his sweater to pull him closer. A moment later, she was on her back, her hips cradling his as he hovered over her.

“Wait.” Her fist flattened into a palm against his chest.

“Please don’t,” he said, his breathing heavy. “Can’t we worry about appropriate later?”

She laughed softly. “I was going to ask if you heard something. I don’t think Paige should come downstairs and find us like this.”

He paused and listened hard, but there was no noise.

“I think we’re okay,” he whispered.

“You’re right though,” she said. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“That’s not even close to what I said.”

“There are so many reasons why I should go.”

She was his boss. He was in the middle of a divorce and fighting for full custody. Paige was upstairs. And yet.

“I feel like if you go now, then that’ll be it. It’ll be like this never happened.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” she said.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

When he kissed her again, there was no hesitation. She wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him closer. Time slipped away as his hands wandered beneath her dress, and she gasped into his mouth.

“Do you think we should go upstairs?” she asked as he kissed a trail down her neck.

“Are you sure?”

Suddenly, she was Ms. Everdeen again, serious and composed, as she looked him in the eye and said, “I am one hundred percent sure.”

Her footsteps on the stairs were soundless. When they reached his bedroom, he didn’t bother turning on the light.

The next morning, he woke up to Paige dive-bombing his bed. He sat up in a panic, unsure how he was going to explain Katniss in bed with him, when he realized there was no Katniss to explain. It was just him, and now Paige jumping up and down. Peeta’s heart sank as he looked around the room, but there was nothing to suggest Katniss had ever been there much less spent the night.

Only a few hours ago, Katniss had curled up in his arms as his eyes fluttered shut, the worry he constantly lived with finally giving him a reprieve. He fell asleep content and calm, the scent of her hair on his skin.

But now...

Peeta finally snapped out of it when Paige jumped into arms.

“I guess you want to open presents?” he asked.

“Presents!” And then she was out of his bedroom, running down the stairs.

Peeta shoved the night before out his mind, buried his disappointment, and went downstairs to celebrate Christmas with his daughter.

An hour later, as Paige danced around the living room in her new Rapunzel dress and Peeta cleaned up the discarded wrapping paper, his phone beeped.

It was a text message from Katniss.

I’m sorry to disturb you at home on Christmas, but I wanted to let you all know that after much consideration, I have decided to close our department tomorrow. Please respond, so I know that you received this message. Have a wonderful day off with your families. Merry Christmas.

Peeta nearly sent his phone flying across the room. It wasn’t a group text. She must have sent it to each person individually, and yet his read like any other generic message you sent to an employee you barely knew.

He sent a thumbs up emoji back, shoved his cell phone back into his pocket, and returned to cleaning. He didn’t hear from her for the rest of the day.

The next day, after he dropped Paige off at Rye and Hailey’s house so she could celebrate a second Christmas with her cousins, he found himself driving in the direction of the office. It was a bad idea, especially after Katniss’s not so subtle brushoff, but he felt like he had to try. It had only been a few days since he had first seen her outside of the office, but already his feelings for her had grown.

And he knew she felt something for him too.

As expected, she was in her office in the empty department, typing away at her computer when he walked in. She jumped when he knocked on the door, but smiled when she saw it was him.

“Look, I know you don’t want to see me,” he said.

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you?”

Great. This was the way she was going to play this.

“Are we just going to pretend nothing happened?” he asked.

“What are you talking about? Are you okay? You seem upset.”

As usual her tone was calm and quiet, although he detected a hint of worry.

“Can we not have this conversation with you on the other side of that desk?”

“Okay,” she said, brow creased as she walked around to where he was standing. “What’s going on?”

“I get that you regret what happened, but--”

She touched his arm. “What are you talking about? I don’t regret anything. I had an amazing time with you.”

“But you think we should pretend it never happened.”

“Why would I want that? I mean, if this is to continue, we’ll have to be discreet, but--”

“Wait.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand. If you want to keep seeing each other, why did you leave?”

“I wasn’t going to let Paige find me in bed with you! And I certainly wasn’t going to insert myself into Christmas morning with your daughter. Didn’t you read my note?”

“You left a note?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t just leave. I left it on the pillow.”

Peeta thought back to Christmas morning, to Paige jumping on the bed. The note must have flown off. It was probably under the bed or behind his nightstand table.

“I didn’t see it. I didn’t see it, and I’m an idiot,” he said. “You really want to give this a try?”

“Yes.”

“Even though it’s a terrible idea and breaks several rules?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. I don’t follow every single rule, you know.”

“I can see that. You said the department was closed, and yet here you are.”

“I have a lot of work to get done,” she said.

“I hope you’re planning on taking a half day.”

She bit her lip, the only indication she ever gave that she was unsure.

“Come on. You can come over, and I’ll make lunch. Let’s worry about work tomorrow.”

They walked out of the building together, but separate, their conversation generic and unimportant, their arms glued to their sides. They parted ways at the parking lot and climbed into their respective cars.

Twenty minutes later, she was walking through his front door, his hand on the small of her back.

“Is there any apple pie left?” she asked.

“Pie for lunch? I’ve turned you into a rebel.”

He cut two slices, set them on plates, and scooped vanilla ice cream onto each. When he went into the living room to tell her it was ready, he found her staring at the artwork on the walls once more.

This time, she asked him where they had come from, and when she found out that he had done them, she asked how long he had been drawing, what other kind of art he did.

The questions flooded out of her. He was happy to answer each and every one. He led her upstairs to show her his sketchbooks, and she pored over them, admiring each page, complimenting the ones she liked best. When he ran out of sketchbooks, he kissed her instead, and the afternoon drifted away, the ice cream on their pie melting downstairs.

By the time they returned to the kitchen, it was time for dinner, and Peeta was the happiest he had been in months.

For the first time in a very long time, he believed everything really would be okay. He had his daughter, his friends, and his family on his side, helping him through everything.

And now, he had Katniss too.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #i wrote this #merry christmas

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teshknowledgenotes · 3 years

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How to be less distracted with Nir Eyal | Harvard Business Review Ideacast Podcast

Addiction is different from habit but it is important to learn how to use habit forming technology to make our lives better while knowing how these tools are built so we don’t become addicted.

Most people believe the opposite of distraction is focus, however it is actually traction. Traction is any action that pulls you towards what you want to do with your time. Things you want to do with intent.

Why do we get distracted

This is an age-old question. Socrates and Aristotle called it akrasia. The tendency to do things against our better interest.

When asked why we do the things we do, most people will give an answer around the pursuit of pleasure and the avoidance of pain, (aka Freud’s pleasure principle). However, neurologically speaking when we feel some sort of discomfort, the brain prompts us to act, and fix that uncomfortableness. This is called a homeostatic response. Ex. When we’re lonely, we check Facebook. When we feel uncertain, we google. When we’re bored we check Instagram or stocks. These tools were built to cater to an uncomfortable sensation. This is known as an internal trigger.

The first step is to acknowledge that all human behaviour is driven by a desire to escape discomfort, which means time management is pain management. The difference is that now, it is easier to get distracted than ever before because of the persuasive and pervasive nature of technology.

Shamers and Blamers

Most people fall into two categories. Blamers, blame technology, companies, and think that they are being manipulated. Shamers, shame themselves and think that it’s their short attention span, or addictive personality. However, neither of these are true. The real answer is that these are behaviours that we can change if we implement four tactics.

4 pillars to become indistractable.

Master your internal triggers Make time for traction Hack back the external triggers. Prevent distraction with pacts. Master your internal triggers

First we need to recognize that our internal triggers are normal. What we need to do is, learn how to cope with those uncomfortable sensations in a way that leads us towards traction as opposed to distraction.

We can do this through 3 methods.

Reimagining the trigger. Reimagining the tasks. Reimagining our temperament. Master your Internal triggers

One technique he learned from acceptance and commitment therapy is to simply acknowledge the sensation. If you can find the emotion that triggers the distraction you can correct the behaviour. Did you check your phone because you’re feeling anxious, fearful, uncertain, or lonely? Write down the sensation that led to the trigger without any judgement. Next you want to feel that sensation with curiosity instead of contempt. We tend to beat ourselves up when we get distracted but studies show that this makes the problem worse because then we spend time kicking ourselves for getting distracted.

Surfing the urge / the 10 minute rule

Ask yourself why don’t I want to do this? What is difficult about this? Is it boring? Write down and explore that feeling with curiosity by setting a timer for ten minutes on your phone and just sitting with that feeling. This is called surfing the urge or the 10 minute rule.

From acceptance and commitment therapy we know that these uncomfortable sensations subside much quicker than we think. In those 10 minutes, we can either get back to our task or sit with the sensation and at the end of those 10 minutes we give into whatever it is we want to do, the distraction or the task.

This is not about abstinence, it is about acknowledging that you can do that thing that you want to do, in 10 mins. Becoming conscious of these sensations for just 10 minutes and surfing the urge, can cause the sensation to subside 9 out of 10 times.

Make time for traction with a timebox calendar

Making a to do list is not good enough. To do lists are outputs of what we want to do. Our input is our time, so we need to budget the time needed to do everything on our to do list. First step is putting it on the list, second is deciding when you are going to do that task. This is called a timebox calendar.

Schedule syncing

You now take your time box calendar to your boss and say “This is what I have to do this week. Does this look correct? Are my priorities correct? Ok but you asked me to do these 6 other things but since my schedule is full, which one should i swap out? What is more of a priority?” This changes the work practise of dumping work on you and taking your work home with you. When we are hired we make a pact saying we will work this many hours, for this much pay. It’s not fair when our work expands outside of our working hours. Some jobs are exceptions where 60 to 80 hours are the expectations like Wall Street.

Understanding and prioritizing your values

First you need to take care of yourself. You can’t help anybody if you are not well. You need to look at your calendar and ask how much time do I need to take care of myself? To have sufficient sleep, cook healthy meals, workout?

Then we need to ask ourselves how much time do we need for the things that are a part of life, like commuting.

Then, we need to book time for relationships with friends and families.

Lastly, we want to schedule our work. It’s important to have time for tasks like emails but also equally important to factor in time for reflective work.

Hack back the external triggers

First you must differentiate between good external triggers and bad external triggers. Good ones are things that prompt you to do things you wanted to do such as your alarm clock telling you it’s time to go to the gym (traction). A bad one is something that prompts you to do something you didn’t want to do (distraction). It’s about carving out time in your day to do things you really wanted to do. These companies are using psychology to hack your attention and you have to hack it back. (⅔ of people don’t change the notification setting on their phone.)

Prevent distractions with pacts

The trick to a pact is to pre commit to doing something now, so that we don’t get distracted in the future. Ex. A RRSP or 401(k) is a retirement account with penalties for withdrawing funds early.

In order to get to bed in time, Nir and his wife bought an outlet timer that shuts off what is plugged into it at a certain time. So at 10pm, the internet shuts off in his house so he can stop checking emails or doing work. Going to sleep and taking care of his body is one of his values.

A price pact is when you attach a cost to not doing something you wanted to do.

An identity pact is when people form a particular identity around a certain behavior set, then that behaviour becomes much easier to do. This is from research around the psychology of religion. A devout muslim is not going say “ I wonder if I should try beer today?” because not drinking alcohol is a part of their identity. This act doesn’t require any contemplation or self-control.

Workplace culture and constant responsiveness to messages

People often blame technology for distraction issues but sometimes it could be the workplace culture. Slack is often cited as a leading culprit, as the largest group chat app. However, if you go to the Slack HQ, it’s empty at 6pm, nights and weekends. Distraction doesn’t happen at companies with a healthy workplace culture. Distraction is a problem, however not talking about it, could be a bigger workplace environment or culture problem.

Healthy workplace cultures have three traits in common.

They give employees a sense of psychological safety. Meaning, you can air concerns without fear of retribution. They have a forum for employees to discuss issues, questions and concerns. Ex. Slack has a channel called Beef Tweets where people can air their beef with a company. Employees will air their frustrations and employee management will use the eyes emoji to to acknowledge that their concern has been seen and something is being done. The management team uses the same indistractable practises. They not only talk the talk, but walk the walk. They get employees to shut off their devices because their devices are shut off. BIG TAKEAWAY: DISTRACTION IS A SYMPTOM OF CULTURAL DYSFUNCTION, BUT CULTURE CAN CHANGE.

(Source: HBR Ideacast Podcast: How To Be Less Distracted w. Nir Eyal)

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hiphopscriptures · 3 years

Text

Fresh Artist Fridays: The Authentic

PRESSURE is the song you play when you need to feel heard by your music. The Authentic’s inspiring lyrics punch you in the gut and leave you with a feeling of motivation and determination. The lyrics grab your attention from the beginning and refuse to let you go for the duration of the song. “I see today standing in my way. Trouble’s always present so I get down on my knees and pray.” The song is a candid admission of the stress we feel just trying to get through life. The Authentic raps about how he knows life won’t be easy, but he will do everything he can to provide for his family and take care of himself. PRESSURE tackles the emotions that come with feeling adversity and difficulty perfectly. It’s open about how hard it can be to feel depended on, but also makes it clear that nothing will stand in The Authentic’s way. Its music video is equally as inspiring, showing ordinary people go through life struggling but determined to make it. Check out PRESSURE, along with the rest of the songs off of The Authentic’s 2020 project, Politics, War & Religion - Mixtape Series Volume One.

The Authentic Bio

In a day and time when music is strictly about glamour and entertainment, The Authentic stands as one of the last true MC’s focused on reality lyrics, a crazy flow, a one of a kind style and the real essence of Hip Hop. With so many replicas in the industry, The Authentic’s pure passion for the music allows him to stand in a league of his own and truly fits the definition of his title. With a flow that places him in a league of his own and a sincere love for his craft, The Authentic doesn’t hold back; addressing social issues and taking direct aim at whack rappers. Through his career, The Authentic has fully utilized his diverse experiences in life to develop a strong versatile catalog; with motivational tracks that depict the streets reality like hit single “Shining Star”, up-tempo Hip Hop anthems like “Turn It Up”, and party bangers like “Oh My God”. With over 10 solid years ripping through the underground, hundreds of performances under his belt, radio appearances and five solid mixtapes with thousands of units moved; The Authentic has firmly secured his slot in the game. Working hard to build his reputation and master the craft of being an MC (Master of Ceremony), he has performed all over the country, from New York City (Nuyorican Poets Café, Revolution Bookstore), Philadelphia (The Trocadero, Love Park, and Wells Fargo Center), North Carolina (NC State University, Dorton Arena), Las Vegas (Planet Hollywood and The Bunkhouse) and many more. His diligence, determination and natural raw talent has earned him respect from some of the most reputable figures in the game, including: DJ Rashaun, DJ Scratch of The Roots Crew, DJ Touchtone, DJ NoPhrillz and has landed him on stages with superstars such as, KRS ONE, Big Daddy Kane, Naughty By Nature, Jadakiss, Styles P, Musiq Soulchild and more. With his sound, his resume and pure passion for the culture, The Authentic truly represents a lost voice in Hip Hop. In addition to being in a league of his own when it comes to lyrical content and experience; The Authentic separates himself from the pack by being more than just another artist. Over the years, he has dedicated a majority of his time off the stage to building his community and standing as a voice on various social issues. In 2011, The Authentic created an annual event called “The Authentic Minds College Fair Tour”, which hosted over 50 colleges, guest speakers and live performances held at the Martin Luther King Recreation Center located in North Philadelphia. This College Fair alone generated a wave of media buzz and lead to the interest of multiple sponsors. By establishing himself on the corporate side, The Authentic has created multiple opportunities to perform and organize entertainment events for companies and organizations. The Authentic has also served as a Community Relations Director and spokesman for various Non Profits and local movements. To him, Hip Hop is a way of life and a culture and he feels that the mic should be utilized to depict real life and to open people’s minds to a reality that most people do not understand. The Authentic’s love for Hip Hop started in the 80’s at a very early age, listening to legends such as RUN DMC, KRS ONE, LL Cool J, and witnessing local break dancing competitions and DJ battles. He became fascinated with the expressions of the culture in every aspect and embodied being a key figure to continue the movement. While growing up in South Jersey, he witnessed his mother struggle to pay the bills and embraced all of the usual elements of the hood; violence, drugs and poverty. As he adapted to his environment, he gravitated to the mic to speak on exactly what he experienced first hand and continues to do so. The Authentic hit the scene hard in the late 90’s, touring the Northeast with Wyclef Jean’s award winning group City High. Shortly after the tour, The Authentic’s group, at the time, signed a joint venture deal with a local independent label and No Limit records, which eventually fell through. Following the fallout of the deal, he quickly bounced back rocking stages with Lil’ Kim, Tracey Lee, Jackal the Bear, and landed a slot on the radio with Legendary DJ Jay Ski; all before graduating high school. By the grace of GOD, The Authentic headed to Raleigh, NC after high school to attend college and to pursue new music opportunities. With so many colleges in the area and a solid underground scene in NC, The Authentic’s career excelled all while trying to balance school work, hustling to pay tuition and his passion for Hip Hop. The Authentic hit the ground running by tearing down college talent shows and was eventually booked to open for DJ Clue, Jadakiss, Petey Pablo, Styles P and D.C., go-go music legends Backyard Band. In early 2000 The Authentic was selected to headline the CIAA Championship Game at Dorton Arena, as well as the CIAA Hip Hop Hoops Tour, which hit colleges through MD, VA and NC, including NC Central, VA State and Winston-Salem State College. This tour led to him landing a deal with an affiliate label of the NBC television network. The Authentic teamed up with Raleigh’s illest underground MC “Bubsy” to form a group called “Lock n Load”, which dropped two hit singles on the “One Hot Minute Compilation”, a collaborative effort by NC’s top artists from around the state. Both singles released received hundreds of spins from Richmond, VA to Raleigh, NC to Florence, SC. Following graduation from St. Augustine’s College with a Public Relations degree, The Authentic released his first underground project “Vision of Hope” which sold over 500 units all while teaching elementary school and creating youth outlet programs in the poverty stricken city of Henderson, NC. After putting in work in NC, The Authentic headed back home to Jersey embracing his degree, but sucked back into the traps of the hood. He continued making mixtape appearances and rocking shows all through the tri-state. Living in Trenton during one of the worst stretches of gang violence in the state’s history prompted the release of “The Line of Fire Mixtape”. It became the theme music, depicting the reality and moved over 1,500 copies on the street and in local stores. While “The Authentic’s” reputation was growing in the area, he suffered the lost of his cousin, best friend and roommate, Tone; who was shot in the back twice a few hundred yards from their home, while The Authentic was rocking his first show in NYC. After the lost of his cousin, he felt strongly about turning further away from the streets and using his voice more as a tool for awareness of the realities that the inner city youth face. From that point, he embraced his cousin’s last conversation with him, in which he reminded The Authentic that his role is to be “The Public Relations of the hood”. Following The Authentic’s explosion on the scene in Jersey, he relocated to Philadelphia to build his brand in the nation’s 5th largest city. In no time he began smashing open mics and local shows in every section of the city earning him spins and respect amongst the areas top DJ’s, such as DJ NoPhrillz, DJ Touchtone, DJ Jay Ski and DJ GregNitty. The Authentic blazed through the city with his mixtape release “Reality of it All”, followed by “Real Recognize Real” with hit single “Turn It Up”, which gained him national attention getting radio spins on FM stations from New York City, Las Vegas, Atlanta, and Philly’s 100.3 The Beat. The national buzz set the tone for The Authentic’s next mixtape “Righteous Kill Mixtape Vol. 1”, packed with versatile hits and moved 5,000 units in the street with no budget. With things in motion, he continued to make appearances all through the city from Unity Day with Chaka Khan, Philly Fest with Mos Def and Musiq, The Old Skool Jam with KRS ONE and Roxanne Shante, The Rotunda, The Trocadero, and XO Lounge with Philly Swain and Reed Dollars. He headlined Philadelphia Schools Stop the Violence Tour, West Philly Day, Nicetown Day, South Philly Day and Mantua Day with Naughty by Nature. The Authentic also showed up heavy on the radar with a feature on well known Gunz n’ Butter productions DJ J-Scrilla compilation “Culture of Honor” featuring Cassidy, DipSet, Tek and Reef The Lost Cauze.

Check out his music through the links above and stay connected with The Authentic through his socials to make sure you never miss new music. Remember to follow Hip Hop Scriptures to stay updated on the latest Fresh Artist Friday.

STAY CONNECTED WITH THE AUTHENTIC ON SOCIAL MEDIA:

Facebook - Instagram - Twitter - YouTube - www.theauthentic.bandcamp.com

STAY CONNECTED WITH HIP HOP SCRIPTURES ON SOCIAL MEDIA:

#fresh artist fridays #the authentic #new hip hop #new music #politicswarandreligionmixtape

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sabeshbala · 3 years

Text

How to be less distracted with Nir Eyal | Harvard Business Review Ideacast Podcast

Addiction is different from habit but it is important to learn how to use habit forming technology to make our lives better while knowing how these tools are built so we don’t become addicted.

Why do we get distracted

This is an age-old question. Socrates and Aristotle called it akrasia. The tendency to do things against our better interest.

When asked why we do the things we do, most people will give an answer around the pursuit of pleasure and the avoidance of pain, (aka Freud’s pleasure principle). However, neurologically speaking when we feel some sort of discomfort, the brain prompts us to act, and fix that uncomfortableness. This is called a homeostatic response. Ex. When we're lonely, we check Facebook. When we feel uncertain, we google. When we're bored we check Instagram or stocks. These tools were built to cater to an uncomfortable sensation. This is known as an internal trigger.

Shamers and Blamers

4 pillars to become indistractable.

Master your internal triggers

Make time for traction

Hack back the external triggers.

Prevent distraction with pacts.

Master your internal triggers

We can do this through 3 methods.

Reimagining the trigger.

Reimagining the tasks.

Reimagining our temperament.

Master your Internal triggers

Surfing the urge / the 10 minute rule

Make time for traction with a timebox calendar

Schedule syncing

Understanding and prioritizing your values

Then we need to ask ourselves how much time do we need for the things that are a part of life, like commuting.

Then, we need to book time for relationships with friends and families.

Lastly, we want to schedule our work. It’s important to have time for tasks like emails but also equally important to factor in time for reflective work.

Hack back the external triggers

First you must differentiate between good external triggers and bad external triggers. Good ones are things that prompt you to do things you wanted to do such as your alarm clock telling you it's time to go to the gym (traction). A bad one is something that prompts you to do something you didn’t want to do (distraction). It's about carving out time in your day to do things you really wanted to do. These companies are using psychology to hack your attention and you have to hack it back. (⅔ of people don’t change the notification setting on their phone.)

Prevent distractions with pacts

The trick to a pact is to pre commit to doing something now, so that we don’t get distracted in the future. Ex. A RRSP or 401(k) is a retirement account with penalties for withdrawing funds early.

A price pact is when you attach a cost to not doing something you wanted to do.

Workplace culture and constant responsiveness to messages

People often blame technology for distraction issues but sometimes it could be the workplace culture. Slack is often cited as a leading culprit, as the largest group chat app. However, if you go to the Slack HQ, it's empty at 6pm, nights and weekends. Distraction doesn't happen at companies with a healthy workplace culture. Distraction is a problem, however not talking about it, could be a bigger workplace environment or culture problem.

Healthy workplace cultures have three traits in common.

They give employees a sense of psychological safety. Meaning, you can air concerns without fear of retribution.

They have a forum for employees to discuss issues, questions and concerns. Ex. Slack has a channel called Beef Tweets where people can air their beef with a company. Employees will air their frustrations and employee management will use the eyes emoji to to acknowledge that their concern has been seen and something is being done.

The management team uses the same indistractable practises. They not only talk the talk, but walk the walk. They get employees to shut off their devices because their devices are shut off.

BIG TAKEAWAY: DISTRACTION IS A SYMPTOM OF CULTURAL DYSFUNCTION, BUT CULTURE CAN CHANGE.

(Source: HBR Ideacast Podcast: How To Be Less Distracted w. Nir Eyal)

#human #tech

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andavs · 7 years

Text

Yet another from this long list of prompts, completely unprompted.

Number Twelve: “I’m pregnant.”

The text came in at 7:17am, and in the meantime, Stiles had made his way through four and a half breakdowns, all of them for different reasons.

Number One: Male werewolves could get pregnant, and tying into that:

Number Two: Derek had never found it relevant to their two year relationship to share this fun fact. That didn’t say much as to his thoughts on their future together, which stung.

Number Three: Stiles was going to be a father at twenty-four.

Number Four: Just the night before, with Derek in Argentina visiting Cora, Stiles ate a dinner of Cheetos, plain microwaved hotdogs wrapped in bread, and four beers before passing out on the couch with the tv remote in his hand. He was not ready to be a father.

Number Five (still ongoing, more or less halfway through): They were going to have to move because no amount of corner guards or stupid little outlet plugs could childproof the loft. The door to the kitchen was literally a jagged hole in a brick wall. Stiles caught his shins on it regularly, they were always a mess of scabs and bruises.

Actually his entire body was a mess of scabs and bruises, because that was his life now, had been since sophomore year: fighting off the forces of supernatural evil.

Too bad he couldn’t childproof his life.

Oh god, they were going to have to move out of Beacon Hills. Away from the pack.

Nothing was stable in Beacon Hills, it had been eight years of panic and anxiety and near deaths and actual deaths. They couldn’t bring a baby into their current lives, Stiles wouldn’t even bring an adult into this hellhole. Who was trained in firearms. With combat experience.

But what choice did they have? Did abortions even work on werewolves? Was there an adoption service for werewolves?

Stiles shook that ridiculous thought out of his head as he paced. Like Derek would part with his child. He valued family above all else in life, the fact that Peter was still out there somewhere, skulking around in the world was proof of that—if there was a Hale baby, that baby was growing up a Hale, no argument.

So they just had to find somewhere safe to live. Within easy driving distance of Beacon Hills in case of emergency, but far enough away that the Nemeton’s influence wouldn’t bring vampires to their door. Stiles would have to do some experiments to see just how far that was, but he figured if he picked a direction and drove straight out, the easing pull in his chest would tell him about where it ended.

His frantic pacing slowed to a stop. That darkness in his heart wasn’t hereditary, was it?

Had he started a family curse of nightmares and uncontrollable anxiety that would plague any and all future Stilinskis? Would they all be susceptible to possession if any ancient evil spirits happened to wander by? Was he really even human when he was technically vomited up by the nogitsune possessing his body? How would that affect this kid’s inevitable wolfiness? A fox and wolf couldn’t coexist, could this kid even survive? Would it come out all fucked up because of him?

He fell right back into panicking and pacing.

At one point he managed to sit down long enough to open his computer and do a quick real estate search in the counties surrounding Beacon Hills, but then he checked his savings account, closed the laptop, stood up, and went right back to pacing.

He paced around the couch until he got dizzy, laid back down for a bit, then talked himself into double-checking his phone. He’d seen the text at 7:17am when he was still half asleep and a touch hungover—maybe it was actually a dream. That would explain why Derek hadn’t sent any followup texts or tried to call, and this was definitely something to call about. At the very least, double text.

Yeah, it was just a really fucked up dream.

He turned on his phone, tapped in the pin, and the text conversation with Derek filled the screen. The last text Derek sent was still sitting there, unanswered.

I’m pregnant.

Nope, not a dream.

Stiles stared at the text until his phone went dark, put it back down on the table, and started to pace again.

He should say something. He had to respond; they were going to be fathers together, and that text had already been sitting there for almost five hours unanswered. Derek had to be freaking out, enough that calling or telling him in person weren’t options—hell, he’d waited until he was on another continent to break the news. Or maybe he found out there and was in too much shock to wait until he got home.

Which, not to belittle what he was going through emotionally, but once Stiles stopped panicking, after they’d had a long and informative conversation about werewolf biology and their future, he was going to tear Derek a new one for pulling this. He wouldn’t even need a vagina for delivery with the damage Stiles was going to do for texting this shit.

Stiles stopped pacing and stared out the window while a horrifying montage rolled through his mind.

How the hell was this going to work, c-section? How did a werewolf get a c-section when they healed instantly? Did Deaton know werewolf doctors? Because Stiles’ child sure as hell wasn’t being delivered by a vet. And if not, how would they even find a doctor to deliver this baby from a man who clearly didn’t have the parts for it? Would he...grow the parts?

The weirder corners of the internet he’d happened upon back in high school drifted to the forefront of his panicked thoughts.

Assbabies.

He laid back down for ten minutes, until he realized how much of a total dick he was being for letting Derek stew in this. He had to be freaking out even more—he was in another country, pregnant, and he had a twenty-four year old dolt who was apparently a little too lax with condom use as a partner in this.

Time to man up. His dad would smack him into next week if he knew Derek had been kept waiting at a time like this.

Stiles picked up his phone with shaking hands, stared at the text for another long moment (maybe he’d just been reading it wrong this entire time and this would be the time it clicked, it was worth a shot), and moved his thumb to hover over the phone icon to call.

Once he did this, there was no going back. Derek would know he’d seen the text, they would have to talk, this was the end of Stiles’ child-free, non-fatherhood life as he knew it.

He took a deep breath, tapped the icon, and put the phone to his ear.

Derek, the complete and utter bastard, let it ring right up until voicemail before he answered.

Oh god. This was it. No going back.

Except not.

He hadn’t even opened his mouth to blurt out I love you and respect any decision you make when Derek practically yelled:

“I’m not pregnant, I can’t get pregnant, that was Cora, don’t freak out.”

Stiles’ brain stuttered and tripped over itself for a second, trying to process both Derek’s words and Cora laughing in the background, as well as the explosion of emotions he was having. Relief, anger, confusion, anger, exhaustion, anger…

He was going to be in the bathroom for hours with anxious diarrhea after this.

Finally his brain managed to toss together a response: “Five hours too late, you fucking asshole!”

Derek took the verbal abuse in stride. He knew Stiles didn’t know any other way to deal with stress.

“I didn’t know she sent that. She just told me when she saw you calling.” The laughing faded away and a door shut to silence on his end. “Explains why she’s been in such a good mood all day.”

“And that didn’t worry you? Cora’s never in a good mood!”

“I figured she put something in my bed, I wasn’t expecting her to try to give you a mental breakdown.”

“Oh, she didn’t try, she succeeded. Do you have any idea what I’ve been going through today? I’ve stared the darkest parts of my soul dead in the face, repeatedly, for hours, and let me tell you, it was not fun, and I’m going to get plastered tonight once I stop feeling like I’m going to vomit and/or shit myself.”

Derek was quiet for a long second. “I didn’t think it’d be that bad.”

His tone registered just in time for Stiles to catch himself before his next high strung retort.

Crap, he sounded hurt. That was his hurt and trying to pretend he wasn’t tone, and Stiles was so not thinking clear enough to handle this well. He was still on the sharpest emotional comedown he’d experienced since their first official date when he panicked in a back alley behind a Mexican restaurant for an hour.

“No, god, that’s not—that’s not even what I mean—” He took a deep breath, trying to pull something together that would accurately sum up the rickety emotional rollercoaster he’d been on all morning and why the idea of starting a family with Derek was so far from the bad part of all this.

He medium succeeded.

“Derek. I can’t afford a house and I was panicking about assbabies and whether or not the nogitsune is hereditary. This was not about not wanting a kid with you.”

A pause, then, “Assbabies?”

“Have you seen what you guys can heal from in seconds? There’s a lot about werewolf biology I don’t know, okay! That was only the first breakdown!”

“You didn’t think I would’ve told you about that sometime in the last two years of our relationship?”

“Breakdown number two.”

Derek sighed, but didn’t address that concern. Not promising. “Okay, and why were you looking at houses?”

“Number five! We can’t raise a kid in this deathtrap of a loft, Derek. Even I have scars from it.”

“That’s because you don’t look where you’re going and have zero coordination.”

“And toddlers have even less!”

Derek ignored the obvious opening to rank toddlers above his boyfriend’s coordination. He carried on down the list with practiced ease. He had plenty of experience with these freakouts.

“Okay, so ignoring the idea that possession is hereditary—”

“The susceptibility for possession, and the whole being vomited up by myself thing, so am I actually human? And to be fair, that was tied in with the whole hereditary dementia thing, which is a completely valid concern and was going to be breakdown number six once it really got going.”

“What were breakdowns three and four?”

“What I had for dinner last night and how I’m...really not ready to be a father at twenty-four.” He winced a little as he said it. Judging by Derek’s tone at the start of all this, he wanted kids, but they’d never talked about it before this clusterfuck of a day and Stiles didn’t actually know what kind of timeline he was working with.

He was in the middle of a Master’s degree, working part time, and generally a mess of a young adult who still didn’t fully understand his own taxes. Derek, on the other hand, was more financially secure, he had his real estate holdings, he was older and more settled—Stiles didn’t even know about the whole pregnancy thing so he certainly didn’t know about how fast a werewolf biological clock ticked.

Shit, he was starting to get anxious again.

“Stiles,” Derek interrupted his budding spiral, and confessed calmly, “I’m not ready yet either.”

“Yet?”

“Maybe someday.”

Stiles breathed out in relief and laid back on the couch. No assbabies, no moving, no impending fatherhood—everything had worked out beautifully.

At least until Derek remembered the other breakdown.

“What did you have for dinner last night?”

Stiles’ eyes flicked over to the plate still sitting out on the coffee table and the dry corner of bread that still smelled a little like hot dog. He hadn’t cleaned up the Cheetos bag or beer bottles either. “I’d really rather not say.”

“Stiles, what did you eat?”

“It’s fine! You don’t have to call poison control or anything!” He’d be offended, but there was precedent. But only because Lydia didn’t label her poisonous herbs for weird magical concoctions and left them in the kitchen while Stiles was making dinner.

“I’m calling Scott.”

“Do not call Scott, I’m an adult, I can feed myself.”

“Apparently not!”

“Hey, I ate, and since I’m not going to be taking care of a helpless infant anytime soon, that’s what really matters here.”

“But I need you to be around to help me raise a helpless infant someday, so eat better. Do you have money for groceries? Should I order you food?”

Stiles was so touched that Derek wanted to keep him around and raise kids with him that he didn’t even mind the implication that he was broke and withering away without Derek around to provide for him.

“I’m fine, seriously. I was just being lazy last night.” He put a hand over the still churning nerves in his stomach and grimaced. “And I think I was panicking too much to eat anything anytime soon.”

Derek huffed out a laugh. “I’m really sorry about that. I don’t know when she got to my phone.”

“Assbabies, Derek. It’s been a very traumatizing morning.”

“Stop saying it. You’re just making Cora laugh harder.”

“Good! I shouldn’t be the only one suffering here, because this is partially your fault too!” Derek scoffed. “If I’d been properly informed about all this, I never would’ve believed that text and I could’ve slept in on my day off.” And he probably wouldn’t have shaved ten years off his life freaking out all morning.

“Stiles,” Derek sighed, “how could I possibly have known you would believe I could get pregnant?”

Stiles pulled the phone away from his ear to give it an incredulous look. “Why would I doubt that? Did you miss the part where I was vomited up by myself?”

“Touche.”

“Yeah, and just so you know, when you get back we’re having a very lengthy chat about just what exactly werewolves can do, in all areas of life. Nothing’s off limits, so prepare accordingly.” Invasive questions were already bubbling up from his subconscious, and he couldn’t wait to see how hard Derek blushed when he asked. Derek looked adorable when he blushed.

“Alright, then I’m testing you on it all later.” He could hear Derek’s smirk in his voice. “Because you're an idiot for obsessing for hours instead of just calling me immediately.”

“Agreed, but Cora's an asshole.”

“She is.”

“Hit her for me.”

“Will do.”

And later that night Stiles wasn’t even mad when his favorite order from his favorite restaurant was unexpectedly delivered. Or when the delivery guy handed him a side salad separately, like it was something valuable and important, and said very sternly, “I was told to tell you to stop eating garbage.”

#sterek #ficlet #there isn't actually mpreg #don't worry #but also sorry to anyone who wanted that?#150 prompt

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siodymph · 7 years

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Science Bros Day 7

And here it is! Last prompt! This whole week has been such a blast! Honestly it really rekindled my love for science bros, I didn’t realize how much I missed writing for these two! And now this week has even inspired me to flesh out my day 4 prompt into a full fic! And it’s wonderful to read some many different stories and see such cute art everywhere again! You guys are just so great and wicked talented!

And while “Yours” may be the last official prompt, I’m still going strong, and will begin publishing some of the request that I’ve received. And if there’s any ideas you’d like to see me write feel free to send them my way! I’ll keep going till the 21st !

You can read this story under the cut or on my AO3! Hope you enjoy!

word count: 4058

It was a Monday morning and the Banner/Stark family was getting ready for a new day and a new week.

Bruce had several of his lectures this late morning until the afternoon and a few labs in the evening so it would be a full day for him. Tony was organizing all his blueprints, his research, to bring it all back to work with him. And their two oldest had school. It had become a ritual of sorts when they had the time in the morning for Tony and Bruce both to go see them off at school before going their separate ways to their own jobs. Bruce got two lunches together as well as one for himself while everyone went about their morning routines in the kitchen.

Tony had their youngest kid, little Kennedy, in one arm as he brought several holographic blueprints all around their kitchen back into a tablet with the other hand. Bruce always loved the awestruck look Kennedy would get on her face, entranced by all of her Daddy’s holographic work. Today she would be going with Tony to work over in the Stark industries. Tony’s reasoning was always that having a cute little tike in the room made it surprisingly easy to make deals and get through long-winded meetings but Bruce always had a feeling he did it just because he liked to bring her with him to work.

Ramona, their oldest at 11, had her nose in her workbook. Just like her adoptive fathers she was brilliant, but especially like Tony she had a bad habit of putting off busy-work she didn’t like till the literal last minute. So she scribbled out a half-assed homework assignment for her English class as she drank a bowl of cereal straight from the bowl, forgoing a spoon as she hurried.

And their middle child at 9 and only boy, Aiden, came quietly down the stairs. He seemed upset about something. He barely made a peep as he poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat down next to his sister. Bruce wanted to ask him what was wrong but he had learned with Aiden if you were too sudden or direct with him, he’d shut down. So Bruce stayed back and waited. Aiden would open up in his own time. When he did speak up, Bruce made sure to let him know he was listening.

He came over Bruce and leaned heavily onto his side. “Hey Papa? Can I skip school today? I don’t feel good.”

Near instantly Bruce brought his hand to feel Aiden’s forehead. He felt fine, no fever. But he did still seem really upset about something. After several mishaps it had become a family rule to only ask Bruce to miss school. Tony would always say yes and let the kids go to work with him instead. And while both of them had crappy experiences with the American School system, Bruce still wanted their kids to at least try going to school. As long as nothing was wrong of course.

“I’m not sick.” Aiden admitted honestly. “I just don’t feel good.”

“Well then how do you feel?” Bruce tried gently.

“I don’t know. Bad? I just want to miss school for one more day, please Papa?”

Bruce wanted to say yes. But he also wanted to understand. There wasn’t much he could do for Aiden unless he knew what was hurting his son. “Maybe. Can you explain why you don’t want to go to school?”

“You remember Thursday?”

“Yes.” Last Thursday Bruce had to go meet Aiden at the principal’s office after he got in a fight with a kid in the fourth grade. He hadn’t hurt him badly but still made an awfully strong impression on the kid, all his friends and his very angry mother.

“All Friday I kept seeing him. We didn’t fight but I could hear them laughing when I wasn’t looking. I felt really mad all day.”

Bruce felt himself getting mad but he tried not to show it. “Do you want me to go in and talk to your Principal about it?”

“No!” Aiden shouted, panicked. “They don’t actually mess with me. They’re too scared to now. If they got in trouble things would only get worse…”

Sadly Bruce could understand that, in 30 years the public education system still impossibly mishandled bullying in their schools.

“This whole weekend though I didn’t see him. I felt fine. And I want to feel fine today too.”

“Aiden.” Bruce said sighing. No way in hell he’d ever put his children in harm’s way. But he hated to think that a place meant for him to learn and grow had become a place he hated. A lot like himself. “Aiden? You know we’re really alike, you and me. I had a lot of anger issues when I was a little older than you.”

“So what did you do?” Aiden asked.

Bruce tried to think back on his own experience, something that would help Aiden understand. “Well, it doesn’t just disappear, your emotions. It’s healthy to let things go but sometimes it’s hard to know if you’re really letting something go, or if you’re just swallowing it down. Letting it bottle up inside you. If that makes any sense at all.”

“I guess. Our teacher always is telling us to forgive and move on.”

“She’s coming from the right place. But sometimes it’s hard to just drop the way you feel. Even if everyone around you assumes you should. And it’s ok. You’re allowed to feel upset about a situation or a person.” Bruce continued, not wanting to give Aiden the wrong idea. “However, it’s not fair to act out on the way you feel just because you’re upset and no one else is. You can defend yourself, but it’s not nice to hurt others deliberately.”

“I know that, Papa. I just don’t want to feel so bad all the time.”

“Well I found the best thing to do is talk to people. Talk to someone you trust about the way you feel. Or if you don’t feel comfortable talking you could try keeping a journal. You could write in it whenever you’re upset and when a problem you have is resolved. Finding an outlet to channel your emotions into can be very helpful. Do you understand Aiden?”

“Yeah Papa.”

“Do you still want to miss school for today?”

“… Can I? Just for today.”

Bruce sighed in defeat. “Hey Tony, you got room for another kid today?”

“Always do!” Tony said beaming and ruffling up Aiden’s hair. “I can take you down to the workshop when Kennedy’s taking her nap. That’s how you really learn, working out in your field, gaining experience! Hey Ramona!”

“Tony no-“

“You wanna skip school too? We can do a field trip!”

Ramona considered it, but in the end she shook her head and shoved her homework into her book bag. “I can’t. I have a spelling test.”

“Well you know if you’re sick on a test day, you can always take it the next day. And you get an extra 24 hours to study.”

“Tony!”

“I’m kidding!” Tony said, kissing Bruce on the cheek as he collected up his laptop and scooped up Kennedy back into his arms. “You sure sweetie?”

“Yeah I’m good.” Ramona said, strapping on her backpack.

“Alright. We’ll drop you off at school, then we’ll head out to work.” Everyone began grabbing their things and heading for the front hall. And Bruce took a tiny moment just to watch them go. Smiling. He had a family. Bruce Banner truly had a family.

Tony gave him a teasing look, swinging the front door open rather dramatically. “Hello? You coming big guy? We don’t have all day!”

“Yeah, I’m coming!” He said, looking down and grabbing his keys before leaving for the day.

Bruce was ready to follow them all out the door when something strange happened. And the illusion began to crack.

Bruce!

He could hear Tony saying something. When Bruce looked up, he was already down the hall with the kids. But his voice sounded like it was directly in front of him.

“Bruce? Are you feeling alright?”

Bruce! Bruce, come on! You gotta snap out of it!

Tony’s voice was right there in his face, and it sounded so different. Frantic, maybe even scared. And he knew the truth was there. Standing in plain sight. A part of Bruce had known the whole time. An inkling in the back of his mind. He’d just hoped it had been a trick. That he was just feeling paranoid over nothing.

But he was fast realizing the truth. And everything began slowly fading away.

He felt himself stumbling back. He needed to get out of here. But he never wanted to leave!

“Papa?” Aiden and Sophia looked at him with eyes full of fear. Kennedy started crying.

Come on! I know you can break out of this!

He wanted this to be real. He felt like he was being torn apart. Please, just let him keep this.

BRUCE!

But he couldn’t. Because Bruce Banner didn’t have a house in the city with houseplants in every room and garden boxes in every window. Bruce Banner didn’t have an esteemed position with one of the biggest universities in the country. Bruce Banner didn’t have a healthy hold on his emotions. Bruce Banner didn’t have kids. And he never would have kids because it was too dangerous. Bruce Banner had horrible powers and many people wanted him caged or dead.

And as Tony and their children raced towards Bruce, he felt like he was falling backwards. He looked at them all one last time and closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again it was all gone.

He was lying on his back. On an alien planet. And Tony was right there, staring down at him and looking extremely relieved.

“Thank god, knew you could do it!”

Bruce let Tony pull him upright. There was a migraine pulsing in the front of his head but he still forced himself to wake up. All around them it seemed like other members of their group were in similar states. Some recovering with headaches, others still lost is some sort of trance. The red aura of the Scarlet Witch was hovering over everyone. “What the hell happened?”

He remembered everyone being split into two groups. Bruce was in one and Tony was in the other. And from the looks of it something had gone horribly wrong in Bruce’s team.

“We’re not 100% sure yet. But from what we collected, one of Thanos’s lackys got into Wanda’s head and used her powers against her. It’s like she was hacked. Those alien guys are still trying to calm her down.”

Bruce could see the Scarlet Witch several yards away. She was completely trapped in her own powers. Eyes glowing a bloody, deep red and she was openly sobbing. She was crying out incoherently and Bruce could make out her brother’s name in her words. She was completely unaware of the people surrounding her, trying to help her. One of the alien woman with a set of antenna on her head grabbed Wanda’s arm and began crying too.

“Pepper told me everything she knew. Wanda was showing everyone in your group their desires. Like the really big stuff. And from the look of it she’s been seeing her own desires too.”

His desires… It truly was an illusion. Just a trick of the mind. None of it was real.

“Hey Bruce? You ok?”

Bruce? Are you feeling alright?

It would never be real.

He found himself getting up fast. Tony was at his side asking him if he was really alright to keep going. Bruce said he was. But he couldn’t look directly at Tony. Whenever he did he kept seeing flashes of that other Tony sketching out some blueprints in a kitchen. Or that other Tony holding their kids by the hand. Tony actually relaxed, truly happy and utterly carefree. A Tony that wasn’t real, couldn’t be real. At least not the Tony he knew right now.

But he couldn’t afford to let that distract him any more than it had. Their team was in trouble and needed his help. Now.

So he tried to swallow down the turmoil of feelings coursing through him. Tony tried to talk to them as they went but Bruce couldn’t bring himself to truly listen to him. He still couldn’t look at him. He felt like he was lagging behind his body a few steps. Everything was going so slow and they had work to do. He and Tony went separate ways to try reviving as many of their teammates and friends as they could. And as they all came back to their senses, regrouped and prepared to head out, Bruce’s mind and heart refused to go numb.

Bruce isolated himself as much as he could once they were on the Guardians’ ship. Some sort of small storage space. He needed to be alone. He needed to find a way to shut his brain off.

Every time he closed his eyes he could still see it. The house. The kitchen. Tony with the kids. God, his kids. That had to of been the cruelest part of all.

He just wanted to forget the whole thing. Stop thinking entirely. But his mind wouldn’t stop. Nothing he did would make it stop. He couldn’t let the image go, it was seared into his mind. And his brain kept going and going, it felt like white static in his skull.

When he heard someone come to the door he was ready to snap at them to leave him alone. Just give him a minute! But he held the words back when he saw it was one of the alien women, Mantis. In the time Bruce had gotten to know the Guardians he’d learned Mantis was a well-meaning but shy and soft-spoken person. And he’d feel bad for yelling at her for no reason. So instead, as she stepped into the small storage space he’d let her come in.

“Hello. Mantis, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” She said. Bruce had been willing to let her in, but when she sat down on the floor across from him he tensed. “Are you ok? You stormed off after the attack. Many people seemed concerned about you. Especially with the whole mind-manipulation you were caught under.”

“I’m fine. I just needed some time alone. To get my head on straight. I’ll be alright in a couple minutes.” Bruce said, trying to gently get Mantis to leave.

But instead, much to his dismay, Mantis didn’t seem to pick up on his suggestion and scootched a little closer towards him. Looking rather excited for someone sitting on the floor of a storage unit with Bruce Banner. “Perhaps I can be of assistance then!”

“Uh thanks, but that’s not necessary-” Bruce tried, but Mantis quickly brushed him off.

“No. You see, this is the sort of situation my powers were made for! I have the ability to feel another’s emotions. To help others understand! All I need to do is touch their skin with my hand and I can know them. I can do this for you! If you’re willing of course.”

She held her hand towards Bruce and he thought it over. The idea of someone knowing exactly how he felt seemed very invasive to him. And usually he handled his own emotions himself where he couldn’t bother, upset or hurt anyone else.

And yet despite that he still found himself rolling up his jacket and offering his arm to Mantis. Curiosity was a cursed thing.

As soon as Mantis’s hand touched his shoulder she doubled over shuddering. Bruce feared for the worst when he saw her antenna began to glow green and she drew a shuddering breath. But she didn’t grow any worse than that and slowly pulled herself back up.

“Oh… Oh my goodness…” Mantis gasped, trying to compose herself. She looked back to Bruce looking like she was about to either start sobbing or screaming. But she kept talking in between shaky breaths. “You’re mourning a dream. You’re yearning for something, but it’s so painful! It’s broken your heart so many times. But it still aches. And it infuriates you so. It’s… It’s so much!”

She pulled her hand away and hugged it on her chest as if it had been burned. It took all of Bruce’s willpower not to get up and leave when Mantis turned towards him with such pity.

“Do you feel like that all the time?”

Bruce shrugged, trying to ignore that direct look. “Not all the time. Not as often.”

“Oh…” Mantis said. She looked like she wanted to touch Bruce again, but she pulled her hand back. “I’m sorry you feel like that Bruce. That hurt.”

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s not your doing.”

“I understand. But I still wish I could help more. You’re feeling so many different emotions at once.”

Mantis didn’t continue right away. She paused for a moment, trying to collect her own thoughts. And a weird-feeling silence took up the space before Mantis worked together what exactly she wanted to say. “There was some strange things in your feelings. I sensed a great loneliness in you. But not only that, you had this acceptance for loneliness too… Perhaps you should go talk to some of your friends? I know you hold a lot of compassion for them and they care for you too. The woman with red hair, the woman with red hair who’s also molten hot, the man with lightning. And especially the Iron Man.”

“Ok that’s starting to sound more like mind-reading.” Bruce said accusingly.

“Oh, no. I didn’t pick that last part up in your feeling. No, I saw it seeing you and your friends’ battle and in the aftermath.” Mantis added. “Many of them did seemed worried about you.”

Bruce sighed. He was beginning to wonder if Thor and the others pushed Mantis to come in here to try and help him. He rubbed at his face. “Ok. Well can you go tell them I’ll be out soon? I just need a little more time. Alone.”

This time Mantis accepted what he was saying. And with a quiet “Of course” She got up and made her way back into the hallway.

“Thanks for your help.”

Mantis stopped before leaving completely, confused. “I don’t understand. I got so overwhelmed when I tried to read you. I wasn’t able to help you.”

“You did try. And even if it’s not everything, it was… nice, I guess, to put a name to some of this… stuff.” Bruce offered, and gestured to his head as he spoke.

Hopefully that had been the right thing to say. Mantis straightened up a little and smiled from the door.

“Ok. I’ll leave you be for now then. Are you going to speak with anyone else?”

“I will, don’t worry. I think I’ll go talk with Tony later. Iron Man.” He owed his boyfriend that much. He was a huge part of the vison after all. And he’d been avoiding him for half-an-hour now because every time he looked at his he was reminded of that fake Tony in his dream. He owed him an explanation at least.

He finally left the room after a few more moments alone. As he walked through the ship he saw the damage done. Today’s attack had hit harder than any physical tactic waged against them. Moral had plummeted. And Bruce felt helpless as he saw the state of everyone in his group. Nat seemed like she still might be in a trance, she starred numbly out a window at the stars. One of the Gaurdians, Gamora, sat by her side giving her an understanding look but didn’t say anything. Thor acknowledged him as he passed but his lips were firmly pressed into a tight frown and his hand clutched at a hammer no longer there. Several people were still crying. Wanda especially so. And Mantis was going from person to person, trying to help people the best she could. Giving council to those willing to accept it.

He found Tony down in the workshop-station. The one run by an ornery but brilliant raccoon. But Rocket wasn’t in there at the moment. Nobody else but Tony. He was hard at work repairing one his busted gauntlets on the Iron Man suit.

Bruce knocked on the wall as he came in, “Uh, hi?”

“Hey you!” Tony called out in a slightly forced voice as he looked up from his gauntlet. He pulled off a pair of goggles so he could see him better. “What’s up?”

“I was just looking for you. Everyone seems really… worn from today’s fight.” Bruce said.

Tony sighed and began to let that front he’d first put on slide. “Yeah. Looks like our buddy Thanos isn’t above psychological warfare. Are you doing ok? Cause everyone was forced to see some pretty messed-up stuff.”

“Yeah, I’m ok enough. That’s… That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. My vision.” Bruce came closer and sat by Tony’s side.

“You don’t have to tell me what you saw if you don’t want to, Bruce.”

“I know…” Bruce said. Tony didn’t respond so Bruce kept going. “I didn’t have my powers… We had a family. We were all eating breakfast. They were getting ready for school.”

He watched as Tony’s closed his eyes and rubbed at his eyelids. “Shit. I’m sorry Bruce.”

“It’s not your fault. It was my own mind that was manipulated.”

“But I know how much you like kids…”

He heard Tony sigh. And neither of them said anything. He quietly turned to look more closely at him. The real Tony Stark. In the florescent lighting and his own exhausted state, Tony almost looked ashen. And with them fighting every day Tony’s hair had gone a long time without any dye and had really started greying along the sides. He was thinking hard about something. Probably overthinking. And whatever it was it wasn’t good from the way he looked towards his broken gauntlet with such a resigned acceptance.

“… Do you think we could ever do that? I mean, if we somehow manage to survive all this and save the world. You think when we get back to earth, we could ever do that?”

Bruce didn’t know what to say. Yes. He’d wanted something like that for years, decades now. He’d always wanted to be a father. But he would never be able to give them a safe home. Any kid they might take in might always be in trouble just being in proximity of him. And that was even if any adoption agency would ever like the likes of them adopt kids. But he had finally mastered his powers, he found peace with the other part of himself. But there were also so many other obstacles in their way than his own powers.

“I don’t know. I’m really sorry. I want to but I just don’t know.”

He felt Tony, gently hug his shoulders. And he spoke softly. “Hey, it’s ok. It’s alright. Honestly. I mean, who even knows if we’ll ever get back to earth!”

Tony laughed, but there was a grim look in his eyes. And Bruce found himself mirroring back that sad, sort of humor. “We don’t even know if we’ll live long enough to see the end of this war.”

“Yeah, you’re right. So I’m gonna say this. And I’ll probably tell you every day we’re still alive cause I’m dramatic like that, you know.” Tony said, he held Bruce by both so hid shoulders so they were looking face to face. Then slowly moved closer as he spoke until their foreheads were touching.

“No matter what happens I’m staying right here. I’ve never regretted choosing to be with you and I never will. I love you, Bruce Banner. I’m yours.”

Bruce pressed his lips softly against Tony’s trying to convey everything he was feeling. And he felt Tony smiling against him as he pulled away.

“And just in case you wanted a reminder. This? This right here? This is real.”

“Yeah… I hoped so.”

#sciencebrosweek #science bros week #science bros week 2017 #science bros #day 7 #yours #im really happy with this one

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