waitingformydandelion

[waitingformydandelion]

hey, if u want/have time, can you write a modern au drabble where peeta sees homeless&pregnant!katniss out in the rain in an alley next to his bakery? thanks!!!!

okay, this is sort of a messed up jumble of words that probably should have been more researched and better developed. I hope you like it, and happy holidays!

“What are you doing here on Christmas Eve?” Thresh said.

Peeta was still securing his apron behind his back as he stepped up to the counter. “Can you think of some place better to be?”

“I don’t know? Home? With your family?” Thresh began to rattle off.

“You’re not making a compelling argument,” Peeta said, pulling on a pair of fresh latex gloves.

“You’re not either,” Thresh said, struggling to stir the cement like creamed corn in his bubbling pot before dropping a scoop on an awaiting tray. “District Food Bank is a pretty depressing place to be this time of year.”

“You’re here.”

“And if my mother didn’t run this place, you could bet I’d be anywhere but.”

Keep reading

#heartbreaking #fic rec

[waitingformydandelion]

Double Date

finally wrote the drabble i’ve been trying to write for weeks based on this reddit post discovered by @rainymyx in this post. i had so much fun writing this!

i want to continue to add to this based on the original reddit poster’s updates, so we’ll see!

read this on ao3 here

“What can I say? College football days should always be the best days of a man’s life. Now your best days can be listening to me talk about them.”

Ugh. Katniss huffed out a puff of air as she listened to Cato speak. An hour ago, she had been so excited for this date. They were texting for the past two weeks, and their conversation was easy and funny and, most importantly, normal. Now in person, his vibe was totally different than who he portrayed himself as online. Now, he was a thirty-year-old man who wouldn’t stop talking to her about his glory days from ten years ago and the “boozing, blinkers, and babes” that came with them.

After only receiving their appetizers and a single drink, Katniss knew she couldn’t stick around. The thought of having to hear Cato talk about another frat party he attended before The Force Awakens was released was nearly enough to bring her to tears. Desperate, Katniss did what she always did in trying times like these: text Johanna.

“Katniss! Katniss! I need your help, quick!” Johanna’s voice rang through her phone not even a minute later. Her ability to sound like she was truly in agony was as impressive as always.

“Johanna!? What’s going on?” Katniss responded, hoping her acting was, for the first time in her life, passable.

“It’s the baby! I need you here now!” her childless, non-babysitting, kid-hating friend shouted before quickly hanging up.

Katniss darted her eyes to Cato’s, and his brows were knit tightly as if he were trying to to put together the pieces of the conversation that just transpired.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure if you heard. My friend really needs me. She needs help with her… baby. I hate to cut this short, but,” she didn’t finish her sentence as she slipped on her coat. She shuffled through her bag and retrieved a twenty-dollar bill, smacking it on the table.

“Oh, yeah, it’s cool. You still wanna meet up at my place later, right? I have the best surprise waiting for you,” Cato responded while wagging his eyebrows, seemingly uncaring about her fabricated dire emergency or the quality of their date at all. This only irritated Katniss more. Her friend’s fake baby was in trouble, and all he cared about was getting laid!

“Uh… yeah, no. Definitely not. Let’s just forget about this, okay? Have the night you deserve,” Katniss practically snarled as she fled the restaurant.

Once she was in her car, she peeled out of the parking lot and quickly went around the block, looking for a place to park so she could call Johanna. She found a spot located outside of a small pub and dialed her friend.

“How was I this time? I feel like I’m really perfecting my blood-curdling shrillness. What do you say? Any pointers?” Johanna asked as soon as she answered the phone.

Katniss wanted to laugh, but now that the situation was over, she felt defeated. She actually had high hopes for this date, but she again found herself needing to bail.

At twenty-eight, Katniss finally felt ready to do things for herself. Before this, there was never the time. She was raising her sister Prim and taking care of her mother for more than a decade since her father’s passing. Now, Prim was in her second year of medical school where she received full funding for her work, and her mother has a live-in aide to help her with her daily needs. She finally did not have to spend all of her time focusing on school and work and money and bills, and without Prim nearby, she felt lonely. Her friends had convinced her to start going on dates, but after months of failed attempts, she still had nothing to show for it.

“Is it me, Jo?” she responded, “Do I just attract these weirdos?”

“Oh, shut up, brainless. You've been going on dates for a few months. Maybe if you gave yourself a little more practice when we were younger it’d be easier, but some people take years to find something that sticks. You’re hot. You’re smart. You’re caring. Maybe a little hard to swallow with the scowl, but anyone that gets to know the real you is gonna love you.”

She sighed, “Okay.”

“You wanna come over here? I was just going to watch some Dexter reruns, but there’s plenty of room on this couch for two.”

“Actually, I think I need a drink. I’ll let you know what I’m doing after.”

Katniss’s conversation with Johanna ended shortly after, and she made her way into the pub.

The pub was crowded, a symptom of it being a Friday evening in the winter, and Katniss had to shuffle past a group of freshly legal college students to make it to the bar. She wanted something simple, something just to take the edge off, and was quickly handed her rum and coke.

Eager to people-watch while she nursed her drink, Katniss scanned the crowd for an empty seat. Most of the tables seemed to be taken up by a larger group, but a single chair at a small table in the corner of the room was wonderfully vacant. Katniss closed her tab and swiftly made her way across the room.

As she approached, she stopped in her tracks. Hidden from her initial view was a man sitting on the other side of the table, somewhat hunched over with a book in his hands. Before she could backtrack and look for another open seat, he picked his head up and locked eyes with her.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was gonna sit here but didn’t realize you were already here. I’ll just…” her voice trailed off. Katniss had a habit of not finishing her sentences when she was flustered, and after meeting the man’s gaze, she was very flustered. Not only was she not expecting someone to be sitting at the table, but now that he was looking at her, his blue eyes piercing through to her even under the pub’s dim lights, she realized he was around her age and absolutely hot. Her hands began to sweat, and her tongue started to feel like lead.

The man smiled, an endearing smile that quirked more on the left side of his face, highlighting a sole dimple on his cheek. “Don’t worry about it. You can sit here,” He replied, his eyes scanning the room. “Besides, it doesn’t look like there’ll be much room anywhere else.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, and he nodded. “Thank you so much. I promise I won’t even bother you. We don’t even have to talk or anything…” Katniss said as she placed her bag on the table and took her seat.

Katniss started scanning the other patrons of the pub to observe their activities, but her eyes frequently darted back to the man seated across from her. She gathered more bits and pieces of his appearance in the brief moments she allowed herself to study his features. He had blond, curly hair that looked intentionally tousled. His shoulders were very broad, pulling the fabric of his navy henley taut across his chest. He had freckles across the bridge of his nose, and he drummed the table with his left hand while holding the book he was reading in his right.

After a few minutes, he lifted his eyes up from his book and offered her a soft smile. “My name is Peeta, by the way.”

“Katniss,” she said, offering a shy smile of her own.

“You know, I really don’t mind talking if you want to.”

Her grin grew. “Okay, then.” She paused, unsure of where to start, but her curiosity eventually got the better of her when she asked, “Can I ask why you’re reading a book at a crowded bar on a Friday night?”

Peeta chuckled, a laugh that let Katniss know he wasn’t offended. “You waste no time getting to the deep stuff. I actually just moved into my first solo apartment, and as much as I’m happy to have my own space, the silence feels kinda deafening.”

“Ah,” she began, appraising him up and down, “so you find comfort in the chaos.”

“Yeah, I guess I do. I grew up in a house with two older brothers, and the two of them used to practice wrestling no matter where they were. In the dining room, the backyard. One time they threw each other down the stairs,” he chuckled again, “Our mom wasn’t too happy about that one.”

“You’re joking,” Katniss laughed.

“Not even a little bit, I swear. And then I lived in a house with my three friends all the way through grad school. My best friend Finnick used to play eighties pop at all hours of the day. Think, like, Donna Summer or Cyndi Lauper on full blast at three in the morning.”

“And you guys never asked him to stop?” Katniss asked, finding she wanted to know more and more about him.

At this, Peeta hit her with a dead stare, his blue eyes piercing her with a combination of humor and seriousness. “See, that is something only someone who doesn’t know Finnick would ask. If we made any attempts to get him to stop this relatively-harmless-if-not-mildly-annoying behavior, we would only trigger severely worse outcomes for us all.”

“And you said this is your best friend?” Peeta let out a boisterous laugh in reply.

While sitting with Peeta, Katniss found the guard she had put up during her date with Cato had come crashing down.

They spoke about their jobs. Katniss explained how she works as a forest ranger, but she hopes to finish school to become an environmental engineer. Peeta said that he just finished graduate school to become a doctor of architecture.

“I really liked art, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy my parents or pay the bills, so I tried to do the next best thing I could think of.”

“So you became a literal doctor? In a field that’s focused on math and design? Are you a genius?”

“Time Magazine did call me the reincarnation of Albert Einstein.”

“Hm. And to think I placed you more as a Michelangelo.”

They spoke about their families. Katniss spoke about her mom and Prim. She bragged about her sister’s accomplishment in getting a full ride to a great medical school across the country. She felt so comfortable with Peeta, she didn’t even shy away from speaking about her late father, even if it was in the briefest of terms. Peeta nodded his head as she spoke, squeezing her hand across the table when he sensed certain details were particularly hard for her to get out. Peeta, the son of bakers, grew up really close with his older brothers. His oldest brother took over the family business, and while Peeta loves baking, he enjoys it more as a hobby than a career.

This seamlessly led to them speaking about their childhoods. Katniss was mostly shy, harboring two friends, Madge and Gale, through her schooling, despite her being a star on her school’s track and archery teams. University allowed her to come out of her shell and meet friends that didn’t matter her reticent personality, like Johanna. Peeta wrestled, painted, did debate team, and wrote. He had a solid group of friends during school, but he found his lifelong friends in college.

They spoke about the little things. Their favorite colors. Favorite snacks. Movies. Shows. And their answers were so similar across all categories, they had a near total eclipse on a venn diagram of each topic. Their responses were so alike that, at one point, Katniss plastered her face with her signature scowl Peeta had not yet been acquainted with, asking him if he was being totally honest with his responses.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, “Look, that scowl is too intimidating for me to not come clean. So the truth is, I’ve been being honest this entire time.”

Before Katniss realized, nearly two hours had gone since she first sat down with Peeta. They fell into a comfortable silence, and she studied his features more in the muted light. She tried to picture what he looked like out of this setting. Hunching over a sketchbook. Cooking in his kitchen. Laughing with his friends. Cheering on his nephews at their little league games.

She studied the way the dim light caught onto the golden strands of his eyelashes, becoming mesmerized by the way they fluttered against his cheek when he blinked. She didn’t even realize she was staring until he spoke again, causing her to jump slightly.

“So what about you?” He asked, a small grin on his lips.

“What about me?”

“Well, before you asked what I’m doing at a bar alone on a Friday night. But what are you doing alone here on a Friday night so that I, a stranger, was able to take up so much of your time?”

Katniss contemplates what she should say, unsure if she should reveal her failed date with Cato. But as Peeta looked at her with sincerity in his eyes, she has the hunch that she could really trust him.

“If I’m honest, I came here because I had left a really, really bad first date,” she responded sheepishly.

Peeta cocked his left eyebrow expectantly. “How bad?”

“Well… it was so bad I made my best friend call me and say she was having an emergency with her fake baby to give me a reason to bail,” Katniss blurted out, her tone hitching at the end to make her statement sound more like a question. Like she was questioning if she really did that herself.

Both of Peeta’s eyebrows were raised, his eyes glinting with amusement, lips curling in to stop him from laughing. “You’re kidding me,” he managed to croak out.

“In my defense, he only spoke about his college football experiences, and after I started leaving to go help my friend with her fake baby, he still asked if we were having sex later!”

At this, Peeta burst out laughing, and after Katniss realized exactly what she said, she joined him. As Katniss clutched her stomach, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes, she almost missed what Peeta said next.

“That’s why I’ve kind of given up on dating.”

“Given up?” Katniss asked, her voice airy from her recent laughter and something silly like concern that she might have been wrong about the connection she felt with him all night.

“In grad school, every date I went on just didn’t have any spark. They were just mediocre. Then, I got so busy with trying to finish my degree, I just gave up on the whole thing.” For the first time that night, Peeta responded without meeting her gaze.

She’s not sure what made her say it. Maybe it was the second rum and coke she had gotten while talking with Peeta. Maybe it was that she felt like she had nothing left to lose after her first failed date of the night. Or, maybe it was because she knew she’d majorly regret if she didn’t try to continue with the something that she felt burning between her and Peeta, but she had to say it.

“I find that hard to believe considering this is probably the closest thing I’ve had to a good date in what feels like forever.”

At this, Peeta drew his head back in what appeared to be shock. His eyes met her again, an indecipherable expression plastering his features as he searched hers. Katniss shifted in her chair, somewhat uncomfortable with his unreadable scrutiny.

Finally, Peeta’s features relaxed. and he looked Katniss right in the eye with a neutral, if not somewhat strained, expression. “Tell you what,” he began, “I have to go to the bathroom, but when I come back, I’ll ask you out for real.”

Katniss shot him a curious expression, but as Peeta began to move, it clicked. He did not stand from his seat – he wheeled back from the table, towards the back of the bar with the bathrooms. His left pant leg tied off just below the knee. Katniss understood: he wanted her to see everything about him before she agreed to go on a date with him. He was giving her an out.

At this, Katniss’s gut twisted, both with regret and butterflies. She felt somewhat bad for him, wondering if this was a move he made from being rejected for his physical condition before. Wondering how anyone could do that to anyone, let alone a guy like Peeta. But overpowering this feeling were the butterflies. He liked her. He wanted her to see all of him. He was laying his insecurities bare for her. Most importantly, he already trusted her. In mind, body, and spirit, he couldn’t be any more beautiful.

A minute later, Peeta emerged from the bathroom, a goofy grin plastered across his face to perfectly match hers.

As soon as he reached the table, the words came tumbling out of Katniss’s mouth before she could stop them.

“So, I’m free all weekend. What do you have in mind?”

#this is adorable #would love to know what happens next #fic rec

[waitingformydandelion]

Cheesin’ Mellark

#fanart

[waitingformydandelion]

[waitingformydandelion]

Worst Take on Everlark

Ripping this idea from @princesssarisa who has polls for the worst takes of Little Women and Pride and Prejudice. See poll for worst take for The Hunger Games here.

#both takes about katniss not wanting kids #they are just such a gross misreading of her character

[waitingformydandelion]

A shout out to all the writers out there who don’t make the rec lists or have all the buzz or get all the traffic and attention or kudos. Your work is still valuable and appreciated and loved, and without you and your fics, fandom would be so much poorer.

Keep on writing and creating and sharing your works. You have an audience who loves you.

[waitingformydandelion]

Hi! How about Peeta drunkenly telling Katniss he plans to propose to her?

So happy to see you writing again!!

Thank you! Okay, so I kind of struggled with this, because my first instinct was to make it cannon compliant, but I had a hard time with post-hijacked!Peeta getting drunk, because I feel like he'd be very diligent about that as a part of his recovery. Then I remembered their fake engagement, and kind of rolled with it.

Back in our old quarters in the Training Center, I'm the one who suggests the public marriage proposal. Peeta agrees to do it but then disappears to his room for a long time. Haymitch tells me to leave him alone.

"I thought he wanted it, anyway," I say.

"Not like this," Haymitch says. "He wanted it to be real."

I get back to my room and lie under the covers, trying not to think of Gale and thinking of nothing else.

It doesn’t feel like much time has passed before there's a tap on the door. I open it expecting to find my prep team, eager to get me ready for what will be the most important night of the tour. Instead, I find Peeta leaning heavily against the doorframe. I wonder if it's his leg that's bothering him, then I catch a very familiar scent on his breath.

"Have you been drinking?" I ask.

He holds up both hands, and stumbles to maintain his balance. "Only liquor, I promise."

This isn’t the first time Peeta’s been tipsy on this trip. The banquets have been rather extravagant, especially the ones in the wealthier districts. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t partaken a few times myself. The drinks are so sweet, you can hardly taste the liquor at all, and many of the desserts are soaking in it.

This is entirely different. Rivalling Haymitch on a bad day. He can hardly stand up straight. 

I step aside to allow him through, rushing to the bed to draw back the blanket so he can collapse on the mattress. "What did you say once?" I say teasingly. "That Haymitch and I were just alike."

"It's nice to see you've managed to find humor in this situation," he says. "I'm not quite there yet."

The laughter dies in my throat. “Well you better get there quickly! Our interview with Caesar is in a few hours.”

Tonight is our final opportunity to convince Snow and the Capitol of our undying devotion to one another, and our greatest asset has completely lost his wits. Peeta, who's never missed a single step along the way. Who's always been so sturdy and dependable. Has decided to stumble at the worst possible time. I need to get him sober. 

I begin ordering food to my room, tapping on every item as I scroll through the menu. Water, coffee, heavy stew, breads. Anything to soak up all the alcohol in his stomach. 

"Don't worry," he says, scrubbing his hand over his face. "I'll be ready for it."

His promise offers me little comfort. "What were you thinking?" I snap at him.

"That tonight may very well be the most humiliating of my entire life."

I carefully sit on the bed beside him, keeping my hands folded in my lap, in case I accidentally touch him. "I’m in front of the cameras too! You think it's any different for me?"

"Very much so," he says flatly. He closes his eyes tightly and pinches the bridge of his nose.  I'm not sure whether the room is spinning for him, or if he's this tortured over our plan. I brush some hair from his forehead and he winces. Tortured it is. "At least you get to pretend."

I scoff. "Like you've never pretended."

"You don't get it. I don't care what people in the Capitol think. It's you. I'm going to pour my heart out and beg you to marry me, and you'll get to act all superior, because you think, deep down, I wanted this."

I deflate at his words, and lay down beside him. I wonder if he heard what Haymitch and I said before. After he had stormed off. Not that it really matters. He's right to think it.

"I don't want to get married now, but I used to think that I did," I admit. "I never had a groom in mind. Nobody specific. I just pictured marrying someone like my father, I guess."

"Someone like Gale?"

"I don't know. Maybe." I roll onto my side and tuck my fingers beneath my pillow to watch him. His eyes are closed, like he's pretending to be asleep, even though he obviously isn't. "I probably should have dreamt about some wealthy merchant boy sweeping me off my feet."

"You would have been disappointed. I think Haymitch may have been the only one in the district with any money."

"Ew!" I say, which earns me a laugh. His mood seems to be improving, and it sets me at ease enough to tease him again. "How had you pictured it?"

"What? Proposing?"

"Yes, tell me," I say.

"No."

I poke him in the ribs. "Tell me, please? I could use a happy story for once."

He opens one eye to glare at me, but I can see the corner of his mouth tick up into a smile. Eventually, he rolls onto his side to face me. "I don't know. I'd wait for the spring, I think."

I smile. "I like the spring."

Toastings in District Twelve aren't nearly as elaborate as wedding ceremonies in the wealthy districts. Usually the actual ceremony is held within days of proposing.

"I know," he says. "I could never decide if I wanted my family to be there."

"Why not?"

"My brothers are terrible singers. And loud. You'd leave me before the end of the ceremony, just to get away from it."

"I would never run away!" I argue. "There'd be cake inside!"

He laughs again. "The biggest," he agrees. "I'd ration the ingredients all year to make it."

"Would you make those little sugar flowers?"

"The cake would be covered in them."

"That sounds nice," I say. I close my eyes to picture it and can feel myself edging toward a peaceful sleep. "Hopefully Haymitch doesn't drink too much. I'd be worried about him so close to an open flame."

"Well he wasn't usually a guest, back then. Although, I suppose he would bring plenty of entertainment."

"And booze." We're both laughing now. I selfishly take the opportunity to tuck myself against his chest. His arms close around me with their usual steady warmth. "We should have a toasting, back home," I suggest.

"They'd never agree to it. They'll want to have a big ceremony in the Capitol."

"I know, but I want one. One that's just for us."

The breath he lets out sounds strained, and I wonder if he's thinking about it again. How he wants it to be real.

There's a knock on the door again, and this time it actually is my prep team, moving at a frenzied pace. Haymitch shuffles in after them to collect Peeta.

"I've got this," Haymitch promises, as he hoists Peeta onto his feet.

I catch Peeta's hand and give it a gentle squeeze. I'm not sure what I mean by it. I want it to be reassuring, but I'm not sure how. To acknowledge that he's suffering too?

Maybe I'm coming terms with it too. The conversation Haymitch and I had outside the train on our way to Eleven. This doesn't end with a proposal or a wedding, or anything at all. The Games will never end. We'll always live in an arena.

And we'll just have to make the best of it.

#how sweet #fic rec

[waitingformydandelion]

Finding each other in the night, to talk about everything and nothing.

#cute #fanart

[waitingformydandelion]

It feels like forever but I’ve finally managed to get things in order and get used to my routine again. I’m happy to be posting again :)

#fanart

[waitingformydandelion]

“When Peeta holds out his arms I walk straight into them”.

~ Catching Fire Chapter 14

#fanart

[waitingformydandelion]

“You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him, you know,” Haymitch says.

The girl arrives at his door, weighed down with a basket and heads straight for the table. “Peeta will be over in a bit. He’s fielding a call from Effie,” she says, answering his unasked question.

They’re always bringing food by; the girl, like a cat, dropping dead things at his door, and the boy, like a retriever, stopping daily with smiles and bread. But a couple days a week, they’ll both show up with a meal and they’ll all eat together.

Apparently it’s one of those days.

“May be a while. He’s got a lot of groveling to do to cover all of our asses,” she looks at him meaningfully.

He knew he’d forgotten something. It’s been.. three months? He guesses, since he last spoke to Trinket. Not long enough in his opinion. The kid’s call should buy him another three if he’s lucky. He’ll have to think of a way to thank the boy.

She must be thinking something similar of herself because she says, “I know I know; I could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve him.”

It’s said in jest, but he can tell she’s repeating something said of her before. Something she believes despite her levity. It irkes him, “Who said that?”

“You. After the Quarter Quell announcement.”

He curses under his breath, “really?”

“At this very table,” She knocks on the wood.

It does sound like something he’d say, “Why is it that you remember that shit and not the good advice?”

She shrugs, “I remember that stuff too. Just sometimes I ignore it.”

He grunts and she goes back to unloading her basket. He could leave it there, but it doesn’t sit right. He knows he has plenty to regret that he doesn’t remember, but now that he know… “I didn’t mean it.”

She turns toward him, looking skeptical.

“Alright, maybe at the time I thought I believed it,” he clears his throat, “but i was wrong.”

She looks away, but not before he sees her guard drop. It’s too much, too raw, so he adds, “He’s just as big of a pain in the ass as you are. You deserve each other.”

She rolls her eyes but she’s biting back a smile, “yeah, well I guess that means you deserve us too.”

Now it’s his turn to look away.

Now on Ao3

#cute #fic rec

[waitingformydandelion]

ALLIES

“We'd live longer with two of us.”

“Guess you just proved that,” says Haymitch, rubbing his neck.

“Allies?” Maysilee nods.

And there they are, instantly drawn into one of those pacts you'd be hard-pressed to break if you ever expect to go home and face your district. / Catching Fire, chapter 14

#my heart #I don’t think I’ve seen maysilee fanart #it’s so good #fanart

[waitingformydandelion]

Meaningful Gestures Prompts #11 or #14 :)

11. Putting your hand on your lover's thigh and feeling their eyes on you as they try to figure out your motives. Whether the touch is teasing or just for fun.

Something from the growing back together time...

Peeta hands me a mug of hot chocolate and joins me on the back porch to watch the sunset. "It's so beautiful out," I whisper, worried if I spoke at my full volume, it'd break the spell somehow.

"It is," Peeta agrees.

I take my first sip of hot chocolate and let out a small moan. "This is good," I tell him, leaning toward him a little and placing my hand on his thigh. Peeta gives me a quizzical look in response. After a moment, he puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to his side. I kick my feet up next to me on the bench and close my eyes, reveling in his closeness. I'd missed this.

We sip our hot chocolate in silence, and when our mugs are empty, I turn to Peeta. "I think it's time to head to bed..." I say, standing at looking at my feet.

"Yeah, I'd better go," Peeta says, standing too.

"Or you could stay," I say, looking at his chin since I can't quite meet his eyes. "If-if you want to..."

"I do," he says.

"I've missed this," I whisper in the darkness of my room as he holds me close, my head on his chest.

"I have too," Peeta says. "Even when I couldn't make sense of our nights together, I longed for them."

Tears spring to my eyes, unbidden, and I inhale shakily. "You can ask me about them if you--if you need to," I say.

"I just want to hold you right now," Peeta says. "If that's okay."

"Always," I whisper.

#beautiful #fic rec

[waitingformydandelion]

I will not be a cynical doubter for any new Hunger Games installments until I'm proven wrong; I trust that Suzanne knows exactly what she's doing when she writes more within this universe.

TBOSAS was an excellent book and enriched the world and message of the original trilogy in ways that made me appreciate the whole series even more.

I think 'Sunrise on the Reaping' is not going to be what the fandom expects of it, but it will be exactly what we need.

[waitingformydandelion]

🐅 SHE 🐅

oh Katniss … you have *no* idea

#plus this backstory fits so well into the already established canon #makes me think that Suzanne already knew Tigris’ backstory while writing the trilogy

[waitingformydandelion]

the game with the apple lives rent free in my head … they’re PLAYING I … help … this scene is so superfluous and so beautiful I can’t even handle it

also, again: so important to notice Katniss’s actual words on the page … she says “a future I’ll never have” not “a future I don’t want” … also also I realize he’s messing with her a little bit, but the man is asking for consent for a daydream scenario … how people think this angel is going to badger his girl into anything is beyond me

[waitingformydandelion]

district 12 victors

so I didn't get into doing fanarts consistently until I was about 16, and my obsession peak for THG was between 11 and 15, so I must've done really few THG fanarts (and not very good ones at that) during my life despite it being a core part of my personality. So here's the first ever THG fanarts I upload to the internet, more that 10 years after first reading the saga. I tried to draw them book accurately, but that got kinda lost along the way, since i quit drawing it for a couple weeks bc of ✨ university ✨. Oops.

I'll probably upload it to Instagram tomorrow morning (?

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#fanart