#effys-closet

[scorpiomoon222]

effy stonem wearing a sid & nancy tee and black ripped jeans

#effy stonem #skins #skins uk #skins gen 2 #effy stonem style #effy stonem outfit #skins outfits #sidvicious #nancy spungen #sid and nancy #sexpistols #skins aesthetic #effy stonem closet #2000s #2000s fashion #2000s scene #late 2000s style #y2k #aesthetic #punk #effy and freddie

[princeofyorkshire]

six years since i came out for the first time 🫡

#i saw it is liam’s birthday and i was like holddd onnnn didn’t something else happen on that day and i checked my notes and the answer is Sí #everytime i came out i would write their name out w the date until i came out to my mom in 2019 and didn’t really feel the need to continue #it’s not like i’m OUT out like i keep jumping in and out of the closet lmfao like some days i’m more vocal about it and some other days i’m #kinda regretting making it so public. i don’t know. but one thing i know is that i’ve come a long LONGGG way in the last few years and i’m #v proud of myself for that. like 15 yo me would never believe that i would even allow myself to think about that for more than a second #so yeah. shout out to lil fatima i love you baby we’ll be alright #effie’s journal

[margojacksonpotter]

Parts in Mockingjay book that should have been in the movie:

-Katniss really disliked living underground at 13. She felt claustrophobic and missed being outdoors and hunting. She never followed the schedule to train and just hid in supply closets and took naps. If anyone tried to question this, she’d show them her medical bracelet and tell them she’s mental.

- Katniss and Annie traveled from 13 to 12 with Katniss’ prep team to find Annie a wedding dress in her house in Victor’s Village. Katniss’ wedding dresses were sent back to the Capitol but she still had a few dresses from the Victory tour. Annie chose a green one. Katniss says Annie laughs at wrong times in a conversation and drifts off mid sentence but Finnick likes her so she does too.

- Peeta decorated Finnick and Annie’s wedding cake. It was part of his therapy after getting hijacked. He decorated it with blue and green waves for their district.

-Johanna and Katniss’ friendship: Johanna wanted to fight in Capitol with the Katniss and Finnick. She and Katniss were deemed too “mentally unstable” to fight. They had to start at the lowest level in training and work their way up to the top. They were even roommates for a while. Katniss noticed Johanna avoided showers and was scared of training outside in the rain. She later finds out Johanna developed a fear of water after being tortured in the Capitol by being waterboarded and electrocuted.

- Katniss was mad that Peeta was sent to fight in the Capitol so she calls Haymitch. Haymitch gives her the ultimate reality check, delivering the best line in the series: “I think it's time you flipped this little scenario around in your head. If you'd been taken by the Capitol, and hijacked, and then tried to kill Peeta, is this the way he would be treating you?” demands Haymitch. I fall silent. It isn't. It isn't how he would be treating me at all. He would be trying to get me back at any cost”.

- In the last part of the training, Johanna and Katniss go through a combat stimulation in which the person must face their greatest weakness. Katniss’ weakness was taking orders (no surprise). In Johanna’s stimulation, she faced a flood, had a flash back and panicked. She was sent back to the hospital and wasn’t allowed to the Capitol. To make her feel better, Katniss combined pine tree needles with a bandage to make a sort of fragrance bundle. Johanna said it smelled like home. 🥹

- After the silver parachutes bombs and Prim’s death, Katniss was also affected by the fire. Her skin became discolored and patchy. Peeta was also at the Capitol Circle during the bombing and was burnt as well. He and Katniss have burn scars all over their bodies that never fully go away.

-After the bombing, Katniss is described as a mental “Avox”, refusing to speak for weeks after her sisters death.

-All the stylist and prep team of the Hunger Games were assassinated, with the exception of Effie and Katniss’ prep team. The victors of the Hunger Games were killed as well except for the ones who were imprisoned in the Capitol and saved by District 13.

- The bombs decorated as silver parachutes to m@rder Capitol children was Plutarch’s idea. A Gamemaker’s touch as President Snow described. Plutarch was just as bad as Coin. He thought it made for “good television”

-After Katniss murdered Coin, she was kept in the Training Center for weeks till they figured out what to do with her. She considered s@uicide many times, either by overdosing or refusing to eat. She wouldn’t speak and sang to herself constantly. All the songs her father taught her. After the war ended, Plutarch asked her if she wanted to be a part of a singing competition he was televising in 4.

-Katniss and Peeta wrote a book about all the people they knew and details about them: Primrose, Cinna, Finnick, Peeta’s dad. Peeta drew the pictures. Haymitch helped them too, giving them information about the tributes he was forced to mentor. They plan on reading the book to their children one day.

-What happened to District 12: Hundreds of people left 13 to go back home to 12. They began finding bodies in the rubble and burying them. Madge and her family were found dead. A large hole was made in the Meadow to bury them. Then people began rebuilding the town. With the mines closed, a factory was built from the Capitol to make medicine.

#katniss and peeta #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #the hunger games #the hunger games trilogy #mockingjay

[boltupbitches]

Her Name? Effie Burrow

"You're acting weird." Joe said to his girlfriend. He was leaning on the counter, drinking some juice concoction after his workout.

She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "What makes you say that? I'm not acting weird," she lied.

He continued to look at her with narrowed eyes over his glass. He tilted it back, finishing off his drink before sitting it in the sink to rinse out. "You are," he said. "I saw you duck into the spare room earlier and than quickly back out."

"Oh, well, I just thought I lost my bracelet in there when I was organizing it the other day."

Joe continued to stare at her. "There's a bed, a dresser, a closet, and a night stand in there. It's practically bare the last time I checked. I even tried to check out of curiosity, but interestingly enough the door is locked and my master key to the house is missing.. I wonder why?" He looked away from her towards the fridge where her purse was on the counter next to it.

It clicked to him then.

She turned her head instinctively to her purse where the keys were and within moments they were both dashing towards the purse, but with Joe being the pro athlete, he easily out maneuvers her and gets there first, snatching the black leather bag and holding it high as his girlfriend attempts to reach for it frantically.

"Joe, no! Please, I swear it's nothing." She begged.

"It's not 'nothing'! There is something in there and I'm going to find out!" He made for the stairs, taking two at a time and almost face planting on the upperlanding before cutting the corner and making his way to the door near the end of the hallway. He quickly found the keys and was able to figure out which was the masters key just as his girlfriend was clearing the hallway and coming towards him quickly.

"You are such a child! It's nothing! Give me my damn keys and purse!"

Joe turned partially and pushed the purse into her hands while simultaneously unlocking the door and opening it.

His girlfriend shouted again at him, dropping her purse with the contents spilling out, as she leaned forward and attempted to yank the door shut. Joe stuck his sneaker-clad foot in the doorway, stopping her from doing so. "I'm going to figure this out once and for all, babe."

She groaned and backed off as he opened the door wide open this time and stared into the room. It looked the same - except for what appeared to be a pet tent in the corner, some cat toys, and a litter box nearby. Tiny food dishes were next to the orange pet tent.

Joe stared in confusion and was about to speak when a small ball of white fur sprinted from underneath the bed and into the tent. "What the...?" He turned towards his girlfriend who is scowling back. "Did you get a cat?"

"Yes," she snapped. "For your information is was supposed to be a surprise for our anniversary tomorrow since you've been talking about getting one! My friend found her abandoned outside of her apartment along with two others. The other two got adopted out, but I asked her to hold on to this one for just a bit longer. But no! You have to be fucking nosy and not even let me surprise you with this one thing, Joe!" She crossed her arms and looked away from him.

Joe looked sheepish and scratched his neck nervously, "Yeah, I'm sorry.. I don't know what I thought it was, but it was driving me insane not knowing. I'm sorry, babe." He walked towards her and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her forehead. "I'm an ass, I know.."

Suddenly a tiny, "meow," was heard close to them as they both looked down to see the kitten rubbing against their legs and then standing on its hind legs for his girlfriend to pick up.

She did so. "This baby here is named Effie Burrow and she's 12 weeks old. She's been bottle fed for most of her time, but is now on a solid food diet. She's litter trained, loves to cuddle, and a purr baby. Effie, meet your new daddy." She cooed at the kitten before handing her to Joe.

He nervously took hold of the little kitten and stared down at her. "Did you seriously name her after a Hunger Games character?" He didn't look at his girlfriend as he asked, too hypnotized by Effie's beautiful blue eyes.

"Yes, I did. I know you would have went with something like Snowflake or Snowball, and I wanted it to be unique!" His girlfriend justified in protest.

"No, no, it's fine.. She's adorable." He lightly scratched between the kitten's ears as she pushed her little head into his hand in content, purring loudly. "Hi Effie, glad to have you with us." He whispered.

"Joe.. are you crying?" His girlfriend asked in surprise.

Joe blinked rapidly and said, "Yeah, I am. I'm happy. These are tears of a man experiencing joy, babe. Don't judge!"

His girlfriend held her hands up and backed up a step. "I'm not! I just didn't know you'd react so positively," she said.

Joe moved to sitting on the floor, holding Effie in his lap as the kitten continued to purr away at the attention she was receiving. He look up at his girlfriend briefly and said, "Thank you for this babe, I love you."

She smiled back, "I love you too," and came to sit next to him.

"Babe?"

"Yeah."

"Can we get another one? Effie's going to be really lonely while we're both away for work. You know you can't have only one cat. They need a friend."

"Joe?"

"Yeah."

"Just shut up for now please."

"Hear that, Effie? Mommy didn't say no." He smiled down at the kitten who was blinking up at him happily.

#joe burrow imagines #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow one shots #joe burrow one shot

[weirdtinkerbellversion]

Dec 19. Prompt: Note. Word count: 278 @jegulus-microfic

James was frantically searching in their closet, looking for the bracelet his mom had given him that got lost in their moving boxes, when he opened a shoebox that made his heart flutter. He found piles of little notes in his handwriting, going back years, when Regulus first became a nurse.

With Regulus’ long hours and intense schedule, James took it upon himself to pack his then-boyfriend’s lunchbox for every single shift and he’d pack it with his lover’s favorite foods. There was always a warm homecooked meal, whether it was James’ or Effie’s, a cold wrap or sandwich, crackers with hummus or peanut butter, some fruits and veggies, an energy drink, a gatorade, and water. He’d mix it up so Reggie never got bored of his food but what he never changed were his little notes. He always wrote Regulus a small note and placed it on top of the containers so he could see it first when he would open his lunch bag. They were different variations of have a good day, I love you, a fun fact James had recently learned, encouraging words because his job was draining at times. Regulus always teased him about it but they both knew that those words helped Reg get through his 12+ hour shifts.

James never realized his now-husband had kept them all, every single one, in this little box. He's so busy staring at it with tears in his eyes that he doesn’t notice Regulus walking towards him with a soft, knowing smile on his face. He doesn’t say anything, just kisses his husband’s cheek as he drops today’s note in the box along with the others.

#Nurse Regulus with incredibly long hours #Supportive husband James who packs his lunches and leaves cute notes for him #Jegulus #Jegulus microfic

[catindabag]

In your Au in the future who is Katniss Nepo Baby Everdeen mentor who is also her duet for her performance is it Haymitch, Effie or is it a capitol student a descendant of Sejanus and Coryo and what is Katniss usually like other than being way happier and pretty much getting everything she ever wanted and needed

Oh, Panem, Horn of Plenty. The crack!AU Everdeen timeline is gonna be a mess.😂

Fortunately, Katniss “Nepo Baby” Everdeen is not gonna be like her super famous crazy singing rainbow bird grand aunt (Lucy Gray) because our ✨Girl on Fire✨ will have the same serious personality as her canon self.

But she’s also going to volunteer steal poor little Prim’s spot (out of spite and for fun) as D12’s official ✨Panemvision Female Tribute✨💅.

Unfortunately, Catnip’s greatest rivals will be Glimmer (D1’s youngest and fairest opera singer), Cato (D2’s hottest theatre nerd and rock whispering prodigy) and Clove (D2’s youngest broadway musical genius).

Moreover, Peeta Mellark (who whistles like a pro) will be Katniss Everdeen’s official “duet partner” because her extremely gorgeous Capitol Mentor, Seginus Cadmus Plinth-Snow-Creed-Price (AKA: the gorgeous grandson of Coryo, Sejanus, Festus, and Persephone) got stuck in a dusty broom closet with poor sensitive Philip Anthony Ravinstill-Anderson (AKA: the wacky socialite grandson of Felix and Androcles).😅

Nevertheless, here are some other interesting “facts” in this weird timeline:

1. Primrose and Buttercup (the crusty cat) are the unapologetically ruthless founders and leaders of the infamous Anti-Katniss Everdeen Fan Club. #antivolunteer #realroseofD12

2. Poor Peeta had to fight a jealous Gale Hawthorne (via dance off battle) in order to defend his “rights” as D12’s official male Tribute for the upcoming Panemvision competition.

3. Crazy Lucy Gray married Panini Panlo for fun. She also had a lot of kids with him for fun.

4. Coryo and President Sejanus are still madly in love with each other even after the birth of their 35th grandchild.😍😂

5. Hilarius Heavensbee is the favorite nanny of Sejanus and Coryo’s grandchildren.

6. Glimmer is a very popular opera singer in D1 because of Facet and Velvereen’s influence.

7. Rue can’t sing to save her life because of Reaper Ash (but don’t ask why).😔

8. Foxface is the “Hannah Montana” of her District.

9. Brandy is still a self proclaimed werewolf.

10. Sejanus is still the President of Panem because of Coryo, Festus, Lizzie, Felix, and Clemmie’s collective insistence. #SejiPieforlife

11. Tigris is still a fashionista cheese merchant.

12. Mizzen the Gremlin and Percy Price are still the ruthless rulers of their Pizza Palace Empire.

13. Festus Creed still dumpster dives with Coryo and Pup for fun.

14. Effie Trinket is half Ravinstill.

15. Haymitch Abernathy’s Capitol Mentor, Cassius Perseus Plinth-Snow-Creed-Price is the oldest grandson of Sejanus, Coryo, Festus, and Persephone.

16. Finnick Odair’s Capitol Mentor, Faustina Pleione Creed-Price is the youngest daughter of Festus and Persephone.

17. Lysistrata is still the proud leader of the SnowPlinth Fan Club.

18. Dill is still the Mayor of D11.

19. Reaper Ash is still looking for “normalcy.”

20. Lamina is still crying because of Lucy Gray, Coral, and Mizzen.

21. Half of Sejanus and Coryo’s children and grandchildren have “Complete Heterochromia” for some reason (one blue, one brown).

22. The Plinth-Snow Dynasty is still the most powerful and influential family in Panem thanks to old scheming Strabo and the Grandma’am.

23. Mags and Mizzen are cousins.

24. Maude Ivory is still busy selling and reselling popcorn balls with Mrs. Everdeen (illegally).

25. One of Sejanus and Coryo’s gorgeous sons (Cepheus) married Panlo and Lucy Gray’s youngest daughter (Poppy) because of ✨love✨ political reasons.😏

#tbosas #crack post #snowplinth #snowjanus #coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth #lucy gray baird #festus creed #felix ravinstill #mizzen #coral #reaper ash #lysistrata vickers #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #primrose everdeen #finnick odair #effie trinket #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #president snow #crack ship #suzanne collins #thg #thg incorrect quotes #thg fanfiction #thg fic #tbosas fic #tbosas incorrect quotes

[hotdamnitsmoony]

what each of the marauders think of their birthday & traditions they have

james: definitely loves his birthday and enjoys the attention. the group throw him a surprise birthday party every year, obviously now he expects it, but he really enjoys being celebrated and other people showing him the love he endlessly gives them. his main tradition growing up was effie making him birthday pancakes with sprinkles, syrup and squirty cream and once regulus finds out he asks for the recipe and does it for james at hogwarts.

regulus: absolutely hates his birthday, and refuses to tell people when it is but sirius ends up telling the group so they can have little celebration. the only tradition he has is he and sirius sharing a cake together (that they often had to sneak behind their parents backs when they were children).

remus: doesn’t really care for it, but enjoys spending time with his people. the night usually ends in drunken bowie karaoke and being very cuddly with sirius. his birthday tradition is being woken up by the marauders screaming happy birthday at him (unless the full moon is near).

sirius: used to hate his birthday, but now absolutely LOVES it! will throw a massive party, dance on tables and be with the people he loves. he usually sets a theme for his parties too, like fancy dress or superhero, and they’re usually very talked about around school. his favourite birthday tradition is when he, james and remus sneak down to the great hall in the middle of the night and have a photoshoot (specifically with sirius in dumbledore’s throne) and they do it every year they’re at hogwarts.

lily: likes a low key birthday with her friends, and enjoys having the attention more than she lets on. she, mary, pandora, marlene and dorcas usually go and have a little picnic by the black lake and gossip and play silly games til their hearts content. the only tradition she has is that she wears her mother’s earrings on her birthday so that it feels as though she’s at home. she will also cry at least once.

mary: loves her birthday and the attention that comes with it. she absolutely milks it around her birthday by saying things like “oh, but what day is it tomorrow?” and “you have to be nice to me it’s my birthday this week.” she would definitely also have a party thrown for her - which not many people remember the day after. her tradition is having a girls night with her dorm mates where they paint each others nails, do hair and face masks etc!

pandora: has a love hate relationship with her birthday, considering she shares with evan. she likes the spending time with her people part but isn’t the biggest fan of the loud parties. she would spend her day in a field making flower crowns and daisy chains with her friends and always brings evan a bouquet back. pandora and evan share a tradition where they meet at the time they were born and sing a song they made up as kids about how they won’t leave each other’s side.

barty: absolutely loves his birthday! he usually finds any old excuse to throw a party but this means he can get away with it easier! he wears the most revealing outfit in his closet, sending evan into a gay panic, and the sharpest eyeliner. he’ll dance on tables, swing from chandeliers, play truth or dare and spin the bottle. his tradition is standing on top of the astronomy tower with evan and regulus and they scream into the night about whatever’s on their mind and then have a group hug (which they’d deny to anyone who asks).

evan: also has a love hate relationship with his birthday, but finds himself smiling as he goes to sleep after the day is done (and not just because he’s probably drunk). he loves each bouquet pandora makes for him and presses them so he can preserve them. he has a small-ish party with the group where they play games like twister. the tradition he has is that he gets ready for whatever party they’re having with pandora and she does his makeup.

marlene: loves her birthday more than any other holiday and will remind everyone when it is constantly. she will throw an absolute rager and have the time of her life (until she gets a hangover the next morning). she pre plans her outfit and makeup weeks in advance, but will end up getting changed at least three times during the party! she doesn’t have any traditions other than getting trashed. although she is rather sentimental about reading the cards she’s given.

dorcas: is usually quite cryptic about her birthday, and until people find out when she’s drunk at marlene’s birthday party. she doesn’t really like the attention too much but will spend the time with her friend and enjoy it. deep down she loves reading the sappy cards that everyone writes for her but she slightly mocks them for it instead. the tradition she has is buying herself a outfit every year, and she takes the girls with her and tries the clothes on fashion show style!

#marauders #the marauders on their birthdays #this took far too long #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #remus lupin #lily evans #pandora rosier #mary macdonald #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #marauders era #dead gay wizards #marauders drabble

[rose-pearls]

Watching you go - Part 8

Previous part - Next Part

The room was silent, Haymitch by your side waiting on news from the others. Finnick had been telling secrets for the past half hour and you were trying to forget what was happening.

The door of the mess hall opens, and you see Effie coming in, quick steps resounding across the room.

“There you two are! I have been trying to find you everywhere!”

“Well, here we are.”, Haymitch says sarcastically, and you can’t help but smile at his antics while Effie sighs loudly.

“I came to tell you that it was successful, they are on their way back.”, this makes you look up, eyes wide, hoping that Effie isn’t messing with you.

“Really?”, you can’t help but whisper, hoping that she wasn’t lying.

“It was hard to get in, but they got in and got out as fast as they could. We did lost a soldier on the way out”, Effie tells you and you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief at the thought of Peeta being on the carrier with the rest.

“They’ll we there in about an hour.”, you can only nod in answer, and you hear Haymitch say a quiet thank you.

“So, only an hour before you see your lover boy.”, you hear him say teasingly and you can’t help but smile at the words.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do once he’s here. What if they did something to him?”, Haymitch looks at you sadly and you can’t help but feel scared at what is awaiting you when Peeta comes back.

“Let’s not think of the worse scenarios, they are on their way back that is the most important part.”, you nod in answer, unable to form a sentence but Haymitch seems to understand as the two of you wait there until Finnick barges in.

“They are here.”, he says and it’s the only thing you need to hear before getting out of your chair towards the med bay, not paying attention at the other two and if they are following you.

The med bay is filled with people running left and right, but you can only try and find Peeta, the search is unsuccessful until you see him there, his blond hair sticking out between the others.

He seems tired, bruises littered across his body and for a moment you don’t know what to do, looking at him for a moment.

“Peeta?”, you whisper, and he turns to look at you, his eyes are dull, and you don’t know how to feel as he looks at you without a single emotion.

“It’s me, are you okay?”, you ask softly as you sit down on the bed and Peeta is looking at you questioningly and you feel the confusion growing inside of you. Only you don’t have to wait a long time before you get an answer.

“I’m sorry but who are you?”, the question feels like a slap in the face. You want to turn around and see a camera somewhere, hoping that it’s all a joke. But as you look at his blue eyes filled with confusion you know it isn’t, this is reality.

You faintly hear Haymitch telling Peeta who you are to him, but it doesn’t seem to help him as he looks even more confused.

“I’m sorry but I don’t remember you at all, the only thing I remember is being with Katniss.”, the words hit you like a knife in the back and you try to breathe again, willing yourself to come back to yourself.

Haymitch looks like he doesn’t know what to say, just like you don’t know what is going on. It feels like the world is falling apart and the only thing that was constant in your life is looking at you like you are a stranger to him.

It’s all too much, you get up from the bed ignoring Haymitch’s pleas, Peeta’s apologetic eyes and just leave the med bay. The hallways are blurry as you try to navigate through them but in the end, you manage to find a broom closet and lock yourself in.

Your legs are trembling as you fall on the ground, disbelief running through your mind at what was happening.

Peeta, he had forgotten you and everything about the two of you. He thought he was with Katniss, and you didn’t know how to tell him he wasn’t. 

A sob echoes through the small broom closet and quickly you can’t stop yourself from crying, memories coming back into your mind of Peeta and you. 

You didn’t know what to do with them, so you just cried and try to hold on to them. To try for a moment to forget that you had just lost the boy with the bread.

--

Johanna didn’t know what to do as she was lying in bed, she had gotten shot and had received a few stitches. She had heard the discussion, Peeta not remembering his girl and Johanna was trying not to feel sick at the thought. Snow must’ve done something quite horrible for the man to forget about his girlfriend.

She can only imagine how it would be to have Finnick in Peeta’s place, but just the thought of it makes her want to throw up.

“You’re holding up here?”, a voice asks her, and she turns around to find a tired Finnick, looking at her with a small smile.

“Yeah, was just a small wound, had way worse before.”, she can’t help but say sarcastically but Finnick doesn’t smile, not fully at least. 

“Have you found her?”, she whispers after a moment and Finnick shakes his head.

“No, but I don’t think she wants to be found.”, he tells her, and she nods, looking back at the ceiling.

“Poor thing.”, she whispers and Finnick hums in agreement. There is a silence after her words until she feels the bed dip next to her and she turns to find Finnick looking at her.

“I’m so scared you know and seeing Peeta like this it – it felt even more wrong than what we have been going through.”, she nods in response, knowing that Finnick isn’t finished.

“The only thing I couldn’t stop imagining is if it was you in his place, not remembering me.”, she sighs at his words and Finnick shakes his head.

“I would be destroyed Jo.”, he whispers after a moment, and she manages to put herself in a sitting position to take him in her arms.

“I’m okay, nothing can happen to me now.”, she whispers softly and Finnick holds her tighter, like he is scared that she will disappear.

“I love you.”, she hears him say and she can’t help but freeze at the words before leaving the embrace and looking at him in shock.

“I know it told you that we shouldn’t be anything more, but I prefer to spend any time I have left with you then never being able to have spent a moment by your side.”, the words make her heartbeat faster, but she keeps looking into his sea green eyes.

“I love you and I want to be with you, so if you’ll have would you want to become my girlfriend?”, the words are hanging between them for a moment. Five years since she had feelings for this man and now here, they were.

“I would love that.”, she whispers and Finnick’s smile broadens at her words before he softly cups her cheeks and bring her closer to him.

“Can I kiss you?”, she simply nods before feeling his soft lips on hers and she gets completely lost in her own world with Finnick.

And for a moment she forgets about everything else, about the heartbroken girl in the broom closet trying to hold on for dear life and about the confused boy in the hospital bed looking at pictures of a girl he didn’t remember.

A shorter part this time but it's been chaotic the last few days! Thank you for the comments and all of the love for this story!

Taglist: @wannapizzamymindposts, @experiencebeinanamericanwh0re, @capswife, @star-of-velaris, @simpinformunson, @nobody7102, @r1dd1kulus, @primscat, @fishfetus, @jellybear455, @ghostieraccoons, @inky-sun, @happinessinthebeing, @magical-spit

#the hunger games peeta #hunger games x reader #hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #thg peeta #peeta mellark x reader #peeta x reader #peeta mellark #peeta imagine

[daisydaisybilly]

to love is to destroy | h.a | prologue

Paring: Haymitch x Giselle Carmine (oc)

summary: the games don’t end at the sound of the last cannon, they don’t end at all

word count: 672

warnings: a lot of talking about what happens to victors after the games, mentions of death and injury, mentions of vomiting, drinking and mentions of drug use, angst, fluff (very small). All warnings will be mentioned before each part

a/n: Again I was inspired by @nebulablakemurphy and they’re amazing Haymitch fic! There way of expanding the world is mind blowing and I can’t recommend it enough, divider by @cafekitsune

This may or not be deleted and rewritten as an x reader. I wanted to try out an old so i can be more descripted about the MC

HUNGER GAMES MASTERLIST

Ladies and gentlemen The winner of the 55th hunger games, Gisella Carmine

She woke up gasping, the now cold bath water splashed onto the tile floor, the sun was high in the sky, afternoon, the reaping. Swearing she climbed from the tub and wrapped herself in a towel. The night before the games always left her with little sleep, at one point she gave up and ran a bath. 

It wouldn’t be long until the cameras and the people arrived in the square, Haymitch would need waking from his white liquor induced sleep. 

Reaping days were the hardest days to get through, for both of them. Haymitch drank and forgot. She cooked and she baked and she tried to forget.

A dress had been sent days before, every year a new dress would come and once she reached the capitol, a whole closet  awaited her. The dress hung from the curtain rail in her room. A golden collar embedded with gems and diamonds looping to make open shoulder sleeves, the dress was made from red velvet and hit the floor.

She ran her fingers through her hair, detangling the curls until they looked good enough for all the eyes of the capitol to see. The bags under her eyes disappeared after she rubbed some of the magic cream the capitol sent. 

As she passed the downstairs toilet, she heard Haymitch heave and cough, his skin was pale and wet. Carefully she knelt beside him, even more careful not to get anything on her dress. She laid her hand on his forehead, “It’s almost time”.

Haymitch wobbled back on to his ass, his back against the wall, he reached inside his dressing gown pocket for his flasks, he took one big gulp, “nice dress”.

Gisella rolled her eyes, taking the flasks from him, swallowing a mouthful, it burnt all the way down and sat in her empty stomach unhappily, then she took another drink. Normally she never drank, but when the games began things were different.

“How long do we have?” he asked, slowly standing. “Five minutes maybe? Not long enough to shower” she laughed, standing too.

“Enough to drink” he smiled sluggishly and took the flask back. 

She went into the kitchen and made herself eat some bread she had brought from the baker the day before, it helped settle the nervous waves cursing through her body.

It would be a waste to try and get Haymitch to eat so she left him be and waited.

Haymitch was late.

Mayor Undersee and Effie Trinket, murmured to each other, worried about the missing mentor. Gisella kept her eyes forward, blocking them out. Looking to all the faces of the children dreading the moment she would send two in the games. 

The clock hit two and the mayor began his usual speech, about the history of panem and how things ended the way they were today. From the uprising, to the fighting and finally ‘the peace’. The peace of course being the games. Then he reads the list of district 12 winners, only two are living. To her right, Gisella hears Haymitch mumble and wobbles up the steps. She fixed on her seats as he fell into his.

He looked confused when the crowd applauded at his name,he threw his arms around Effie, who barely managed to get away from him. All of Panem will carry on seeing 12 as a laughingstock. Haymitch as the same old drunk and Gisella as the one who does all the work.

Mayor Undersee took his seat again, then the pink haired Effie rose and took to the centre of the stage. If Gisella had to guess, Effie was looking to step up to bigger and better districts, 12 is the bottom of the pile. 

Old memories flash in her mind, wishing she drank more in the morning, she looked past the square, past the people and to the green hills outside the districts and remembered happier times with her grandfather.

“I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute”

two

#haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x oc #haymitch abernathy x original character #thg fanfiction #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games oc #the hunger games original character #haymitch abernathy fanfiction #haymitch x oc #thg haymitch

[finnickfan8]

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x reader

Genre: high school AU, fluff, smut

Summary: Peeta is the same age as Finnick along with the other tributes and they’re all 18 year old seniors in high school! Reader and Peeta have crushes on each other and one thing leads to another.

Warnings: Smut, language

Your dad, Haymich Abernathy, was a victor. This meant that you were one of the richest families in District 12. Your mom, Effie Trinket, was very supportive of everything you wanted to do. This meant that you mention wanting something or wanting to do something and the next week it was done. This was how you had played at least ten different sports throughout the years and had thousands of toys. Your dad, however, was more of a disciplinarian in a sense. He wanted your people skills to be top notch in case you ever were reaped, leading to the compromise of pageants. It was a way where you could show off your talents, your mom could dress you up, and your dad could coach you on speaking.

Your walls were filled with crowns, medals, and trophies. The soft glisten of your triumphs were sometimes blinding, but in a good way. Glitter and rhinestones lined not only your dresses, but also your future.

Your grades were pretty good, they have to be for pageants. Everything you did just screamed pageant girl; you were popular, you were very feminine, and you were adored. Everyone loved who they thought you were, your performance. You had everything, but a boyfriend.

Your best friends were living the life with their cliques and boyfriends. Well, not Johanna, everyone thought the two of you were dating for a while. You didn’t mind, she agreed that y’all would get married if you’re both single at thirty, but for now you had other plans. You had had a crush on the shortest captain of the football team, Peeta Mellark.

Peeta was always at your house, hanging out with your dad, and you always ran your pageant walks for him. Katniss was also over frequently, but less now that she was caught with Gale in the broom closet. Katniss was your friend and she knew you liked Peeta, but that never really got in the way.

Your first period, you sat between Johanna and Annie, but behind Peeta. You slowly tapped the blonde boy on the shoulder, Peeta jumps, turning his head slowly. “Yeah Y/N?” The attractive man smiled, twirling his pencil.

“Dad wants you over for dinner tonight if thats okay with you.” You gently smile at him. You glance at his hand, watching the pencil swirl rhythmically in his burly hands.

“Yeah, of course it’s okay.” The male notices you staring and chuckles internally. “Six still?” You nod, glancing in to his puppy dog eyes. Today he was wearing a white cotton shirt and some brown cargo pants. The shirt was baggy but tight on his arms, making his biceps bulge gloriously. The purity of the white fit him like a puzzle. Although 18, Peeta was less tainted than his peers. Peeta had never had a real kiss, only an on camera one with Katniss in the games. Compared to the desperately promiscuous gremlins at your school, Peeta was an angel; pure, sweet, and radiating light.

You smooth over the hem of your skirt, nervously pleating it back up again before repeating. Although a moderate temperature in your house, you felt cold in your core, your abdominal muscles contracting. The frigidity of the room faded as you flapped your hands up and down to shake the nerves. Tonight you were going to catch Peeta’s attention. You curtly head downstairs, your heels clicking on the hardwood floors, your hair flowing swimmingly behind you as you accumulated some speed in your step.

Peeta had every girl in school fawning over him now that he was rich. Love notes were a daily for the young adult, nevertheless he diffidently declined all of his admirers and vixens. One thing was on his mind; becoming Haymich’s son officially. By that he intended on marrying you. Admittedly, it was a little fast for him to already have images of you in a white dress. Peeta paid no mind to the fact that the two of you weren’t even dating yet, he wanted to make you the happiest girl ever.

This is why his breath stopped at your elegant waltz down the grand staircase in the middle of the Abernathy house. Your eyes traced his figure, his dress shirt and slacks doing it no justice. You had seen what you would call “sporty Peeta” in all of his glory; pads on, jersey raised slightly revealing his glistening abs, tight white snap in football pants, and messy wet hair sticking to his sculpted face. You had much discernment as to what he hid under the button up.

You sat next to Peeta, your perfectly manicured nails pressing against the table to provide mental relief. Your dad signals for you to eat as soon as your well adorned mother joins the three of you. Effie had always been a doting mother and to your dismay, an oversharing one too. This entailed anything from her sharing baby pictures to strangers to inviting random classmates of yours to your pageants.

“Y/N here is participating in the ‘Miss Career’ pageant next week, isn’t she just so talented?” Your mother started the conversation out with an awkward gloat about ‘her precious Y/N.’ Peeta looked you dead in the eye, boring in to your soul before nodding at your enthusiastic mother. “She’s about to make an appearance on the big screen for the next Hunger Games if she wins. As a prize, you get to be the opener for the games.” Effie claps her eager hands.

“Oh I know, Y/N is quite beautiful.” Peeta smirks at you, searching for a reaction on your now thunderstruck face. “She’s also one of the smartest girls in our class.” Your father lets an approving smile grace his lips, nodding at you. “Would you guys mind if Y/N helped me on some assignments after dinner?” a chorus of ‘no’ from your parents rang melodically through his willing ears. The dinner got progressively more lively before coming to a halt via Peeta’s ‘academic drive.’

You lead the older to your room, softly taking his calloused hand in yours. The shine of silver crowns blinded your study buddy’s doe eyes, “Your mom wasn’t kidding.” He mused, taking a seat on your bed. “I guess i’m not the only one who thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in Panem”

You whip your head towards him, “Is that what you tell all your fangirls?” You roll your eyes narked at his roster of women who would be happy with him simply sighing in their direction.

“No, actually.” Peeta motions for you to sit before gently cradling your face. “I tell them that I have a girl I’ve liked for a very long time.” The warmth of his touch was nice on his rough yet weirdly velvet hands.

“Who? Katniss? What you said on T.V. seemed pretty legit.” You leaned closer on the last few words to emphasize them. Your breath warmed his lips, his large lands moved to brush them through your hair.

“What I said, was about you Y/N, or should I say Miss Americana?” That was your latest title that you had just won the week before. Enamored with how Mr. Capitol had found out, you put your clammy hands over his.

“How’d you know?” The weary words cracked past your lips like an impossible feat. A smile greeted you from the blonde athlete’s face.

“I was there.” You haphazardly tosses caution to the wolves, pulling him in to kiss you. His buttery soft lips pressed back against yours, lovingly. “Wow. I never figured the Y/N Abernathy would be the one kissing me.” He teased before pulling you in again. You broke the kiss, much to Peeta’s complaints, to go lock your door.

You continue to lock your lips and let them dance in feverish passion. Your hands roamed over the silk of his freshly pressed charcoal dress shirt. Peeta’s ready hands start to unbutton his own shirt, helping you slide it off of his broad shoulders as you start on your own garment. His taught muscles are hungry for your cherished touch. You slide your now unbuttoned blouse off your body.

Peeta wasted no time before kissing on your neck, nearing your round bosom. “May I?” Peeta never wants to make you uncomfortable, so he insists on affirmative consent. You simply not in response, although you seem just as needy as him, a nod wasn’t enough. “Use your words please Lovely.” His voice isn’t demanding, but it’s firm and strict yet caring.

“Yes, please Peeta. I’ve liked you for so long please I want you to do this.” You pleaded before he finally took your red bra off, your breasts hardening in the crisp air of the room. He slowly trails love bites starting at your neck. ‘Love bites’ was the only way to describe the marks he left. There was no feeling of possessiveness or even lust in them, just a physical expression of how much Peeta loved his woman.

Peeta suckled on your tender nipple softly, making sure to be gentle with his ‘Love.’ You let out a soft breathy moan as his sucking gets a little rougher. “Mm Peeta you’re doing so good.” you praise quietly. Blood flushes to Peeta’s now hard member at the praise.

“I don’t really know how to say this, but can I please eat you out?” Peeta had always wanted to make you feel good and your first time was going to be the best, he’d do whatever it took. You continue to moan at touches to your hips.

“Please Peeta, Please do that.” Your wish is Peeta’s command, he hangs on your every word. He hikes up your skirt, leaving kisses on your now soaked underwear. He basks in the delight of being between your thighs. He pushes your panties aside, taking a long strip up the middle and around the outside. The taste of your arousal was intoxicating, addicting, his new vice.

With a pointed shape, his tongue slowly drags in a zig zag pattern, flicking his tongue to your swollen clit. The skill in his mouth elicits a wanton moan to escape from your puffy lips. His tongue draws patterns and shapes in to your greedy heat.

Your hand flies down to Peeta’s hair, tugging gently. “Oh my goodness, Peeta!” you cry, thank goodness for thick walls. He slowly adds his ring finger in to your soaked hole. You squeeze your thighs gently around him, writhing under his skilled touch.

“Feeling good, Princess?” You moan in response to the nickname. He speeds up his finger in your hole, curling upwards. You nod at his question, earning a stern look from the older. He speeds his finger up, “Words, Lovely.”

“Yes oh my, yes!” You cry, wiggling your hips up at him as he adds a second finger. You wince at the stretch but are okay with it after a second. Peeta leans in to lick your clit, causing a build. Your walls flutter around his thick fingers. He could tell you were close.

“Please Y/N, please let me make you feel good.” He begged. You whined, needing more as you bucked your hips at him. Your edge was near. “Come on Baby, cum on my fingers. You got it, you’re doing so good.” With that you came undone, liquid coating his fingers. You panted and looked at him with half lidded eyes. A large hand rubbed at your thighs lovingly, “Would you like to continue? We can just cuddle and watch something if you would like.”

“No, I need you inside me now please.” You pulled him in for a desperate kiss. You put your hands were on the back of his head/ neck, pulling him in for more. He got the idea and started to undo his belt without breaking the kiss. You both gasped for air as he slid his tip in your slick, swiping it back and forth. He slid his tip in and paused.

He slid in inch by inch until he bottomed out. Before he started to move, he noticed blood run down your thigh. “You’re a virgin?” he held your hand as you nodded. He kissed your forehead tenderly, transferring the warmth of his heart to yours. The pain caused by his huge length and the stretch of your puckered hole. Then he started to move, giving his all to you like you’re giving to him.

His eager hands palmed at your breasts, his girth filling you out in a way like no other. You never knew your first time could feel so euphoric. The Brobdingnagian amount pleasure you felt right in that moment made all of the pain worth it. All of the waiting to have Peeta in this position had paid off. Call you a prognosticator because you knew you could have him twirled around your finger eventually.

Peeta put your legs over his shoulders so he could hit your spot better. His big hands pressed down softly on to your stomach, feeling himself moving within your tight walls. He was besotted with the mesmerizing sensation of you clenching round him, sucking him in subsequently to his ravaging thrusts.

“Peeta” You groaned before pulling him in, syncing the thrusts of his hips with your mouth. You lean up to mark his muscular neck. You left sloppy kisses atop of him. As Peeta starts to get close, he tweaks at your perky nipples. You’re both nearing your edge. “Peeta you make me feel so good!” you scream, clawing at his bare back. He flipped you around, your knees on the expensive comforter, your fleshy ass up so Peeta could see the fullness of your cheeks.

He threw his head back in ecstasy as he thrust up in to your muscly heat. You needed closeness to your lover, you kept your hands behind your back. He took a them and held them, rubbing his thumb over your white knuckles. He left small kisses on your neck, pressing his affection in to you. The intimacy in the acts sent both of you to the edge of your climax.

“Shit babe, close.” He mutters to you. As you cum, he pulls out and cums in to a condom that you didn’t know he had on. Your legs were still quaking when he went to your attached bathroom to go get you a towel.

As Peeta wiped you off, he kissed your inside of your thigh. “You’re.” kiss. “So.” kiss. “Perfect.” Then he placed a kiss on your lips. Peeta had his own room in your house, as did Katniss, because their families usually spent holidays and other events with yours when they weren’t doing so well. Peeta slid his boxers back on and headed to his room, grabbing a shirt and a water out of the mini fridge that Effie constantly restocked. Peeta headed back to your room, giving you the shirt and water.

Peeta searched your drawers to find a sports bra, figuring it would be more comfortable. “I’ll go in to the bathroom so you can change.” He started towards the restroom, pausing at the door fran before turning his head. “Drink some of the water, call me when I can come out, I’ll go get you a snack once you’re done.” You gave Peeta time to wash up before calling him back in.

“I’m not hungry.” You proclaim before remaking your bed and collecting the discarded clothes. Peeta makes you go sit back down, continuing the clean up. You sip on your water, observing. “Would you like to cuddle, or do you want to be left alone?”

You didn’t even think, “Stay, please.” You pat your bed and climb in. You let him put new boxers on before he climbs in next to you. Peeta pulls you in to his chest before handing you the remote so you can pick a movie.

Peeta cranes his neck down to look at you. “Y/N, would you maybe want to be my girlfriend?” Your golden angel boy asked. You shoot your head up to look at him.

“Duh” You responded before pecking him on the cheek and pulling him closer to your now warm body.

“I can’t believe the queen of pageantry herself is my girlfriend.” You roll your eyes playfully at the comment.

“Whatever Mr. Heartbreaker.” You tease back before he kisses you. What a perfect night.

#peeta supremacy #the hunger games peeta #i love peeta #peeta x reader #peeta mellark #thg peeta #team peeta #peeta my beloved #peeta smut #mockingjay #thg series #thg fanfiction #thg #the hunger games #hunger games

[silence-between-seconds]

Marauders era characters and how their bedrooms look like:

Sirius: leather jacket thrown over spiny chair, boots under bed, punk rock posters, (the "straight phase" is over so no more nude women posters like his room at grimmauld we don't talk about that). Vanity mirror with makeup and nail paint spread out either messily or OCD level neatly, walk-in closet with the wildest red carpet level clothes, "I'm a grown man I don't need a night light" no it's hidden under magazines but no one needs to know that, fairy lights, sketchbooks and glitter pens and charcoal covered papers everywhere, obnoxious looking stationery over a desk he rarely uses, hand-drawn portrait of the Marauders with I solemnly swear I'm up to no good written in loopy cursive

Lily: neat mess sorta room, books everywhere but her bookshelf, those globe souvenir things, flowers, a couple of house plants, posters with motivational quotes, one of Sirius' paintings of the sunset on the wall, picture frame of all her friends, another with her parents, a handwritten schedule with every minute of the week taken into account, a knitted blanket by Marlene, a jumper suspiciously similar to Remus' James: MESSY room. There's a quaffle rolling around and a makeshift goalpost is hanging from the ceiling. Snacks and candy wrappers everywhere, framed pictures from his childhood, lots of pictures of effie and monty, polaroids of the marauders, his quidditch team and mostly Regulus, books Regulus recommends him, so many clothes dumped on his chair it's barely visible, theres a yoga mat rolled up in the corner

#sirius black #james potter #lily evens #marauders era #bedroom #marauders #jegulus #regulus black #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #harry potter #wolfstar #remus lupin

[muted-like-sunset]

Spark| Chapter 7

peeta mellark x fem! reader

masterlist

word count: 7.1k

trigger warnings: nightmares/nighterrors, drowning, implied abuse, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, mild argument, animal death (minor), fire, bears and bear attacks (nongraphic), canon typical violence, weapons (knives, swords, etc.), sort of sexual harassment? (mild), mentions of death.

(mostly) unedited, all mistakes are my own

She thrashes through the night, haunted by a familiar voice. She fights against long fingers grasping clumps of her hair, fighting to reach the surface of their bathtub as hands hold her under, trying to scream for Asher and instead getting lungfuls of water. She wakes with a start, kicking at the blankets wrapped around her until she can free herself. She draws back to the head of the bed until the blankets fall entirely from her body. 

There, she shivers. Her hands press firmly into her eyes willing the feeling of water in her lungs to leave her. She casts a glance to the window in her room, eyes drifting out over the still sleeping city. The sun has just started to rise, casting a warm glow through the streets of the Capitol. She breathes in the sounds of the early morning, the sound of the city sleeping in after last night’s festivities. There is no birdsong, no soft rustle of trees like at home. She longs, for a moment, to hear her parents talking in the other room. To hear Asher pushing his blanket down the scratchy sheets.

She drags herself out of bed, making her way carefully to the bathroom. Hesitating at the shower for a minute, she gathers her thoughts before turning it on. She plunges in quickly, thankful for whatever Capitol technology makes the water warm as soon as she turns it on. Her teeth chatter with the force of her shivering, forcing her face under the spray just to come out gasping and running her hands over her face to orient herself. A quick press of a random option in the selection in her shower has her doused in a sickly sweet, almost fruity scent. The bubbles are a bright pink, brighter than even Effie Trinket’s hair, but she’s thankful for the visual stimuli. Theres nothing like this at home.

She works a bit to find the matching lotion, wondering if it will match its predecessor’s hue. After testing a criminally large collection of lotions, she settles on one that smells the same. This time, its assaulting shade brings a smile to her face. Once she’s moisturized and dried, she makes her way to the closet. Towards the front hangs a full outfit. Her skin prickles, wondering when it had been placed there. A chill runs up her spine as she pulls it from its place, dressing quickly to keep her mind from wandering too much. Tight black pants, a burgundy top with long sleeves, and plain black shoes. She stares at herself in the mirror for a second, studying her body. For the first time since leaving Twelve, she looks somewhat like herself. Her face is clear of makeup, clothing plain enough. She tilts her head, imagining a few snags in the clothing, more tearing on the arms and around the hem. 

Her eyes prick and she takes a deep breath, eyes darting from her reflection. She isn’t home, she might never be home again. If she wants to go home she needs to focus on getting through the next few weeks, not moping over whats passed. Instead, she rolls her shoulders back, casting a quick glance to make sure her face is steeled back in a calm manner. Then, she remembers the pin. Where had she left it?

She trails back in her mind, picturing all of the clothing she’d worn since the reaping and realizing when it had gotten lost. The last time she’d seen it was yesterday morning, before the tribute parade. Perhaps Cinna still had it. 

Its early enough that no one has come to collect her, so she waders aimlessly out into the main room of the apartment. By a long table in the dining room, a man with dark hair and an all white outfit stands silently. Another avox. Where has the girl from last night gone? 

The table is covered in food of all kinds, so she takes a plate from one end and piles it high with a little it of everything she can fit. Eggs, sausage, hotcakes, and pretty purple fruit make their way onto the plate. She finds a jar of honey and drizzles it on top of the hotcakes, smiling. This is a familiar treat. She settles at the table with her plate and a glass of orange juice, tucking in to her meal. The purple fruit turns out to be some kind of melon, the juice of it pooling on her plate. She returns to the table and fills a plate with rolls and some fruit spread that smells strongly like oranges. 

She moves to the window, setting her plate on the ground and picking a roll to pull apart in her hands. There, she watches the city streets slowly begin to come to life. She thinks of her parents getting ready for work, of Mama combing her Papa’s hear with a practiced hand. She wonders how the morning is in Twelve. If the streets are foggy yet or if the morning is dry. Katniss and Gale will already be in the woods, working to feed more than just their own families. She hopes Asher has started to go with them, that he isn’t moping alone at home. Knowing him though, the call of the mines has gotten more of his attention than she would like. The mines offer somewhat security where the woods rely on his skills. She knows that the mines are what he would choose, but she holds out hope that her friends can bring him along anyway. If for nothing else than a place to release his frustrations.

He and Gale might just be a match.

Had they seen them last night? How did they feel about their debut, had it given them hope that she could make it home? She hopes they’d slept a little sounder, that she’d looked confident enough to ease their worries for the night. 

Haymitch and Peeta come into the room together, she wonders briefly if she has woken them. 

“Comfy?” Haymitch asks, his face pulled down with sleep. She smiles sheepishly, pulling herself out of her seat. She collects her plate and joins them at the table, tucking herself towards the end and across from Peeta. He’s wearing an identical burgundy top with loose black pants. She tugs the fabric against her thighs and wishes hers were loose as well.

She’s anxious to start training. They’ll  have three days to practice their skills before showing them off to the gamemakers. Three days is not nearly the time she’ll need to hone her skills, but she’ll have to make it work. There will be other tributes, like Marvel, who have spent their lives preparing for this moment. She can’t be caught unprepared. 

The table is quiet as Haymitch and Peeta eat, she’s lost her appetite. After a while, Haymitch pushes back from the table with a small sigh, pulling a flask from his pocket and taking a swig. Leaning heavily against the table as though already drained by the day, he speaks. “So, training. If you’d like, I can coach you both separately. It’s up to you.”

She furrows her brow, glancing to Peeta to find much the same confusion. She leans forward. “Why would we ask to be coached separately?”

Haymitch smiles a teasing smile, looking up at her from where he rests his chin on his hands. His smile drops as soon as he finishes speaking, settling back into a slight grimace. “You can’t hold hands through the arena. Say you have a skill that Peeta doesn’t know about. You might be able to use it to your advantage.”

A skill Peeta doesn’t know about? To her, she has no unknown skills. Everything she’s learned is seen by the population of Twelve every day. She glances over to Peeta, watching for his reaction. He shakes his head so subtly she wonders if he even meant to, his eyes moving to find hers. “No, nothing. I’ve eaten enough to know yours, too, I think.”

She’d considered that he’d know about her hunting. Everyone in Twelve did, most likely. Still, its kind of nice to know that he’d reliably eaten something she provided. It makes her face heat a bit. She nods to Haymitch. “We’ll train together.”

“Alright,” Haymitch leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “What can you do?”

“Nothing, unless you count baking bread.” Peeta says dryly, she smiles. It’s harrowing to think it might be his only skill, but she knows that isn’t true. He’s strong, she’s seen it herself. She shakes her head, smiling at him like this is their own little joke. 

“I don’t.” Haymitch says, turning to look at her. “I know you can use a knife, got anything else?” 

She considers this, turning her days in the woods over in her head with a keen eye. She can use a bow, just not as well as Katniss or Gale, and she sets the groups traps, a skill also dwarfed in comparison to Gale. “I’m okay with a knife, that’s sort of it.”

Peeta scoffs a laugh, sitting forwards and shaking his head. He speaks to Haymitch, but his eyes are on her. “She’s better than okay, she’s excellent. She sets traps,” He looks to Haymitch, flexing his hands almost like he could feel the wire between is fingers. “My father buys her squirrels, sometimes rabbits. He says the way they’re caught must be quick, its so clean they barely have time to struggle.”

“If we’re correcting one another,” She begins, crossing her arms. “Peeta’s strong. I’ve seen him lift hundred pound bags of flour in the market, carries them two at a time if not more. Tell him that, it’s not nothing.”

“It’s not the same.” Peeta shoots back, his blue eyes locked onto her. It’s intense, she has to steel herself from looking away. “Lifting flour isn’t the same as using a weapon, you know that. Besides, I’m sure every tribute in the arena will just stand still for me to, what, carry them?” He laughs bitterly, shaking his head. She looks away from him, face flushing. 

“He’s a wrestler.” She tells Haymitch. “He always wins unless he’s pitted against his brother, but even then its close. There’s always hand-to-hand in the arena, he’s making himself sound worse than he is.”

“Well, so are you. I’m not going to wrestle anyone to death in the arena. You’ll be off in a tree somewhere picking the rest of us off with traps.” He almost spits, moved to anger. She can see the way his hands tighten around nothing, curling themselves into fists before relaxing and splaying out large. 

“It won’t matter if I can’t get any sponsors.” She mumbles, pushing her plate away from herself and slumping down in her seat, arms crossed in front of herself. “You do that kind of stuff naturally, I have to actually try to make people like me. People are going to fall all over themselves trying to sponsor you.”

He scoffs, but she doesn’t turn to look at him, too busy fighting off defeated tears. “She has no idea, the effect she can have.” He says quietly, like she might not hear him. 

The effect she can have, what does he mean? That people will pity her, or that they’d have some reason not to? She forces herself to think. Surely, she has something to gain sponsors attention. She wipes at her face with the back of her hand, listening as Haymitch and Peeta shift. 

“Well then, you two make a good show, don’t you?” Haymitch says, smirking. “We’ll work with that. Y/N, theres no guarantee you’ll have any supplies to set any snares in the arena, make sure you save that for your private session. Show them what you can do, it’d make an interesting games. Until then, steer clear of any trapping, do you hear?” 

She nods, not meeting his eyes. 

“Peeta,” Haymitch begins again. “She’s right. Don’t underestimate physical strength in the arena, it tilts the advantage to you in a confrontation. They’ll have weights in the training center, you can use them, just don’t go all out. The plan for both of you is to learn things you might not already know. Throw a spear, swing a mace, learn to tie knots. Save your skills for your private showings, are we clear?”

They both nod, she doesn’t have to look to know it. Haymitch leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. 

“In public, you two stay by each other’s side every minute. You’ll figure it out, you always seem to.” This peaks her attention, sitting up and meeting his eyes. Seam gray, like everyone she grew up with. “Now go on, meet Effie at the elevator at ten to head down.”

She pushes back from the table, making a quick exit back to her room. His footsteps follow her down the hall and she pauses inside of her door, listening intently for him to show up to talk. It wasn’t so much a fight as it felt to her, but she’d still like to see him. Her shame cements her feet to the floor, listening instead for some sign he wants to talk. His footsteps pause just in front of her door, only for a moment, and her breath hitches. Then, she hears him continue, his door opening and shutting quietly. 

She freezes for a long while, waiting at the door for him even though he isn’t coming. She shakes herself from her stupor, moving instead to her bathroom to get ready. She brushes through her hair, securing it the same way she always does before brushing her teeth. It’s almost ten, so she slips back into the hall to meet Effie and Peeta at the elevator. 

Peeta’s already there when she gets there, talking quietly with Effie. She dips her head, following them into the elevator. Her nerves, temporarily stayed by a flash of anger at him at breakfast, return in full force at the idea of meeting the other tributes. Marvel will be there, and his district partner. The tall one with golden hair. She wonders if she might be spiteful of the attention her district partner is paying her.

“Hey,” Peeta whispers, bumping her gently with his arm. “You okay?”

If Peeta made friends with her, would she be angry? She tries to imagine her laughing at something he said, smoothing over her golden hair with an elegant hand, giving him a bold and flirty smile. Her stomach knots, would she be angry?

She nods, letting him stay close “Nervous.” She admits with a watery smile, looking to meet his eyes. The ride is quick, probably less than a minute before they’re coming to a stop. The doors open to a large gymnasium, and despite it not being ten yet it seems they are the last to arrive. She rolls her shoulders back, holding her head high as they enter. She lets herself study the other tributes, they’re all dressed athletically. Still, she and Peeta are the only pair that are dressed alike. 

Her eyes find Marvel already looking at her, a grin on his face. The blonde girl is near him, glaring daggers at her. She fights the urge to tuck herself close to Peeta, to seek his protection from the girl. She’ll be on her own if this girl decides to take it out on her, she won’t always have Peeta at her side in the arena. 

She and Peeta join the others in their tense circle, standing still as someone pins a cloth square with a 12 to the back of their shirts. A tall woman stands in the center of the circle with a name tag that says ‘Atala’, she begins to explain the training center. The rules go in one of her ears and out of the other, thankful that Peeta seems to be listening attentively enough for the both of them. She lets herself study the tributes she hasn’t seen closely before, trying to make herself useful.

Almost all of the male tributes are larger than her, and even some of the girls seem to dwarf her. Marvel’s district partner is one of them, tall and athletic looking up close. Her hair is pulled back into a braid that runs down her back and her eyes are trained on Y/N. She looks away, the other girls seem more manageable. Though, even the smaller one from District One looks frightening. The other tributes not from career districts look more like herself. It’s easy to tell that many of them come from backgrounds like her own, if the hollowness of their cheeks and eyes is anything to go by. 

Soon, the group splits. She feels Peeta’s hand move to take her own, trailing down her arm before locking their hands together and tugging her alongside himself. She tries to shake off her thoughts, following closely behind even as she feels eyes on them. Was this what Haymitch meant as “in public”? 

“So, what do we do first?” Peeta asks quietly, leaning down to talk almost into her ear. She bounces on the balls of her feet for a moment, looking around. The eyes of the other tributes flutter away as she surveys the room, all but Marvel’s. He holds her gaze until she looks away, looking instead to find an empty station. 

“Feel like trying firestarting?” She asks, pulling him beside herself as she moves towards the station. They detach as they come up on the station, straightening themselves to begin training. She wipes the sweat from her hands.

 Fire, as she has always been taught, is dangerous. One stray spark could bring down almost all of Twelve, so their fire had always been her Papa’s job. After the accident, that fell to Asher. 

Still, she had built up kindling before. In her house, Papa had always scraped the coal dust off of every surface. The bottoms of their shoes were often caked in it in the right weather conditions. After collecting it, he pressed it into small discs to use as an accelerant. 

She takes the lead, curious to try her own hand at what she’d seen done endless times. First, she tries with dry materials - grasses, ark, and leaves - and finds easy success. She flinches back each time the spark takes and bursts into flame, but quickly becomes accustomed to the flash of heat. The way it flickers mesmerizes her, she almost feels remorse when it dies out. Her next tries are in a damper environment. The woman running the station gives her pointers and she sets quickly to scouring the materials laid before her. Some are meant to make it easier, like puffs of cotton o a tarp, but she’s intent on learning. 

She’d seen Katniss do a trick a couple of times when they’d been caught in weather they shouldn’t have, one that required a specific type of wood. 

“These trees,” She begins looking over to see how Peeta is doing. He’s more focused on her than his fire, eyes darting up when he should be working on getting his flint to spark. “Can we use them? For the fires, I mean.” She asks. When the trainer nods, she slips into the fake woods created in the station. There are only a couple of trees, likely not even planted and instead just propped up below the damp soil. 

What had she said? Y/N stoops low beneath a pine, pinching a fistful of dry needles from underneath. She moves back to her materials, taking the training knife and moving back to the tree. She scrapes off some bark, happy with the sticky feeling of the sap against her fingers. Yes, this will spark. She brings her spoils back to Peeta with a smile, offering the small chunk of wood and bark in her hands. 

“Here,” She begins, settling down beside him to show him what she hopes will work. “See how its sticky? It’s pine, the sap is flammable.” The moment she’s gotten the wood into his small attempt at a fire, she holds a hand out for his flint. He passes it over wordlessly and she strikes it. It only takes one, the moment the spark touches the sap it bursts into a small flame, quickly taking over his pile of tinder and sticks. 

They work together for the rest of the hour before Peeta suggests that they move on to another skill. They move down the line, stopping at the camouflage station, which makes Peet light up. She focuses on trying to mix colors to match the ones Peeta creates easily from mud or berries or clay. Meanwhile, he easily creates a scene on his own skin. She looks up from his arm as he steps away, backing himself against a mossy rock and checking his work. His arm practically disappears when he holds still and she can’t help the gasp that leaves her. “Peeta, that’s amazing.”

“I used to do the cakes at the bakery.” He flushes, looking to her with his chin down. The cakes he’s referring to are up in the window of the bakery, decorated in flowers and other pretty things painted in frosting. She had been by with Primrose many times, both enraptured by the sight of anything pretty. 

This is how they pass the time until lunch. When time is called, they stand from their station (knots, much to Peeta’s dismay) and move to join the other tributes. They follow behind as the tributes are guided to a room off of the gym where the walls are lined with carts filled with food. She and Peeta find a cart that isn’t surrounded and pile their plates with a meat that reminds her of grouse or chicken, green beans, butter beans, and bread. She can’t help but grin when they come across a dish of small potatoes and piles some onto her plate before helping Peeta add them to his own. They find an empty table, sitting across from one another. Conversation should come easily, they certainly have plenty to talk about, but their conversation this morning with Haymitch makes any words that might come out stop, sticky in her throat. 

She eats quietly, trying to avoid looking up in case Peeta is looking at her. Its only after she’s finished half of her plate that she sits back, wiping her mouth and looking to him. He’s looking at her, his own plate mostly finished. “Well,” He practically whispers, leaning forwards over the table. “Haymitch will want us to look friendly. Laugh, like I’ve  said something funny.”

She covers her mouth, trying to make her nervous laugh sound more like a friendly one. He smiles at her, leaning back on his seat. “Now, your turn.” He directs quietly, settling his hand on the table, intertwined with one another. On impulse, she reaches across the table to smooth the tenseness from his fingers. 

“Have I told you about the time we got chased by a bear?” She asks softly, still smiling nervously. Where they had melted the callouses from her hands, they left his rough. She runs smooth fingertips over his hands, feeling every crack and ridge, every burn that scarred his pale skin. He shakes his head, turning his hand over and taking hers in his hold. She clears her throat, sitting up a little straighter. 

She tells the story, trying to mimic Asher’s animated storytelling but falling flatter. They’d been young and foolish enough to not back down from a bear that was in a hive. Honey, when they can collect it, is a valuable trade in the Hob. She’d been hoping for a new pair of boots for Asher, who’d outgrown his months before. Normally, black bears are easy enough to scare off if they’re alone. The issue is, bears can be hard to identify. Black bears aren’t just black, and grizzlies come in all shades. This particular grizzly seemed small, with a coat so dark it had looked black. That was, until it turned and the sun caught it’s coat differently. She’d been the one to spot the color, taking several steps back and throwing her arm out to her friends. It stood on its hind legs, threatening a bear often makes them show their true size, and it had been large. She’d cursed herself for not paying closer attention to the rounded shape of its ears, or the large hump of its shoulders. They’d had to climb high to avoid it, the bear too heavy to get to the branches they could at their size. 

Peeta, better at this whole thing than she is, laughs and prompts her for more information at just the right times. ‘Wait, they’re not just brown? No, they come in lots of colors. That’s terrifying, how big was it? Maybe six and a half, seven feet.’ They laugh at her misfortune, garnering the attention of several other tributes. Facing them, she has a clear view as they turn to see the pair. Peeta notices her looking away, turning over his shoulder only long enough to see the others looking before he turns his gaze back on her. “Hey, why don’t we get some water and see if we can head back in.”

She looks past him again, catching sight of the careers. Some, like Marvel, are already looking. The massive tribute from Two is watching, smirking side by side with his district partner. She meets Marvel’s cool gaze and looks away, nodding. She sticks close to his side as they stand and move away from the table.

They stick by the drinks for the remainder of their hour lunch, only a handful of minutes, talking quietly. This is how their days pass, breakfast with Haymitch and Effie in the apartment, training, lunch, training, dinner in the apartment, bed. Rinse and repeat. 

On the second day of training, they split in the mid morning to practice different skills. She’s no use in weight training, and even though she’s been instructed to avoid her skills, she’s hardly got any skill with a bow and arrow. It doesn’t count, not really. 

She spots Thresh, the massive tribute from Eleven, wielding a knife of some kind in hand to hand training with one of the trainers. His dark skin beaded with sweat as he and the trainer trade mock blows, resetting periodically with a small nod and a tensing of his massive shoulders. She creeps closer, positioning herself just to the side of their session in order to get a closer look. Thresh seems to notice her, finishing out a round with the trainer before backing off, grabbing a hand towel from the trainer’s hand and wiping it down his face before stepping off of the platform. 

“It’s all yours.” He offers, eyes trailing over the room as though to find his next stop. His low register startles her, but only for a moment.

“Oh, no. I just,” she gestures wordlessly to the platform and waiting trainer, eyes locked onto Thresh. “Just wanted to watch. You looked like you knew what you were doing, I guess.”

He eyes her warily, setting the massive blade and his towel down on the nearest table. His voice is honey sweet, a low comforting bass that rumbles low in his chest. “Not my first fight.” 

“Guess you’ve got the advantage.” she smiles, hoping to keep him from running off. She wants him to like her, even just a little bit. Hopefully, that small acquaintance will keep him from killing her. “You’re Thresh, right?” 

He nods, humming.

“Y/N.” She introduces. “What is that?” 

He lifts the blade again, its curved blade glinting in the light of the room as he turns it over in his palms. “This is a hand sickle.” 

He stretches out a hand, offering her the blade. She accepts it, surprised to find it lightweight. “Is this something y’all have in Eleven?” 

“Sort of.” He answers, readjusting her grip on the handle with his own hands. He spins the blade so the interior of the curve faces outward, curving away from her body. “Just smaller, better made.” 

She nods, watching as he chokes her hand up the handle. Once he seems satisfied, he backs away and grabs a matching blade. He swings it a bit, like he’s getting used to it. Then, he swings it in a powerful arch. She watches, mimicking the swing to the best of her ability. 

He laughs a bit and it catches her off guard. For someone so serious, he’s got a wonderfully contagious laugh. She grins at entertaining him, cocking a brow. “Was it that bad?” 

He shakes his head, smiling still. “Not bad, just clumsy. You ever used a blade before?” 

She smirks, sinking her weight onto one hip. “Don’t have much reason, the coal doesn’t bite.” 

He laughs again, tilting his head down and giving a single shake. His shoulders shake with his laughter and her grin grows impossibly larger. 

They settle into a small routine. Thresh shows her a move, she tries to replicate it, he adjusts her, and she tries again. They exchange small conversation. By the time lunch rolls around, they’re joking around regularly. Thresh has settled back into his imposing look, but she keeps smiling. 

She follows behind him as he collects a plate and moves to sit at an empty table. His tiny district partner joins shortly, sitting silently next to him and eating her food. She can’t help but eye her, its startling to see her here. Of course, there have been young tributes in the past, it isn’t even uncommon. Still, seeing her here, in person, is considerably more alarming than it would be to see it on television. 

“What’s your name?” She asks, eyeing the little girl. Her head pops up, chin down and eyes finding Y/N’s gaze shyly. Her dark curls, somewhere between dark brown and black, are pulled back into two small buns at the base of her skull. She looks almost like a lamb with peacefully lowered ears. 

She chews a moment, swallowing her food before she speaks. “Rue.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Rue. I’m Y/N.” Y/N smiles, trying to keep her face calm and happy. Her chest aches with the thought that this would have been Primrose. She wonders for a moment if they’d have gotten along before quickly correcting herself, everyone likes Prim. 

Rue giggles, pulling a roll apart between her finger tips. “I know.”

The older girl laughs, finding talking to the girl easier than she imagined. They pass the first part of lunch easily before she stands, taking her tray in hand. The careers have been staring since yesterday, even now Marvel’s eyes are locked onto her. She can’t hep but be curious, but even so, she won’t attach herself to the tributes from Eleven. She excuses herself, looking for Peeta. He’s sat at a table with a couple of other tributes but none of them seem to be talking. She moves to a mostly empty table, save for the boy from Disrict Three. 

Not wanting to intrude, she sits down the table from him. Its nice, to have a somewhat secluded meal. In the apartment she’s at a packed table, here she can distance herself. It’s not technically being in public, she and Peeta don’t have to always be attached. 

Behind her, someone clears their throat. She suppresses a startled jump, turning over her shoulder to see what the fuss is about. The careers have abandoned their table in favor of hers, but it isn’t her that’s being accosted.

“Move.” The massive tribute from Two commands, setting his tray down firmly on the table. The boy from Three, the real target, gets the message quickly enough. He’s smart to not aggravate such a massive adversary so early, not when theres still so much to get through. She’s starting to collect her things when Marvel sets his tray beside hers, sitting a bit closer than she expected. 

 He’s giving her an odd look, something she can’t quite put a finger on. She hears sound in front of her and turns to see the tributes from Two taking the seats across from her, Marvel’s own district partner hovering behind them venomously. . 

“Got a name, Twelve?” The boy from Two asks, a smirk on his face. She hesitates, wiping her hands down her pants. 

“Its Y/N,” Marvel hisses at him, giving him an agitated look. He looks to her, bumpng her playfully with his shoulder. “Don’t mind Cato, the muscles dont let all of the blood reach his brain.” 

Across the table, Cato huffs. She knows better than to laugh, instead looking to the two girls for a reaction. Cato’s district partner is tense but smiling, Marvel’s seems absolutely tickled at his jab tough her eyes remain hard on her. Cato laughs at this, glancing back and forth between the two. Giving in to the curiosity, she looks between the careers before settling to ask Marvel. 

“Okay, what’s this?” She asks harshly, causing silence among the group. Cato laughs lowly, mumbling. 

“Ooh, kitty’s got claws!” He laughs, leaning over to his partner. Y/N gives him a look before she can think better of it and the girl from One bristles behind them. 

“We just think you’re interesting, Y/N.” Marvel almost purrs, leaning in closer to her. She chances a look away from the group, eyes searching for Peeta. He stands across the room, speaking quietly to Rue. He’s showing her something, but Y/N can’t see it. 

“Aw, no need to call in your bodyguard.” The girl from One whines, leaning against Cato’s massive shoulder as though bored. “We just want to talk.” 

“He’s not my bodyguard.” She says flatly. Theres no need to drag Peeta into this, not when she isn’t sure what they want. Leaning forward on the table, she looks into Cato’s eyes. “What did you want to talk about?” 

“Well,” he murmurs, leaning towards her with a smirk. “we were wondering if you wanted someone to have your back in there.” Her eyes move to study each career, looking for some hint of their plans for her. Cato is smirking, oozing arrogance, and she knows that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. None of the careers would, but after seeing Cato train she feels especially in danger around him. His partner as well, even though she looks completely bored. She’s seen her throw her knives, she’s not one to be messed with. Marvel’s partner glares at her, obviously upset at the idea of her entering the group. 

She leans back a bit, brows furrowing as she takes in the situation. “You want me to join you?”

Marvel laughs quietly, the sound makes her hair stand on end. A shiver runs up her spine and she fights down the blush at his proximity, clearing her throat. He reaches over to her, patting her thigh with a grin. “We do.”

She jumps at the contact, pulling her leg tighter to her body as the careers laugh. She splutters a bit, her words caught in her mouth as she scrambles to get them out. “I don’t understand. I’m not-“ She trails off, gesticulating nervously with her hands.

Cato shakes his head, his smile dropping. He leans back in his seat, framed on either side by the girls, and crosses heavy arms over his chest. It makes him look all the broader. “Doesn’t matter. If people like you, they like you.”

“If you want to join us, hang around.” The smaller girl says, her dark hair shiny under the lights. “We’ll know if you fit after the interviews, then we’ll send word to your mentor.” 

She studies them, but finding any tell that they’re lying or baiting her would require her to know more about them. Perhaps the way the blonde twirls her hair around her finger is a nervous habit, or maybe Cato only seems dry and stoic because he’s hiding something. 

Then again, perhaps that's nothing. Sighing, she nods. After all, what is there to lose? With Peeta’s strength, they’ll be an easy choice for careers. “Alright, I’ll let Peeta know.” 

“No.” Marvel interjects, quick to reach a hand out for her arm. His hold is gentler this time, but still a bit too tight. “We just want you.” 

—

The third day, part way through lunch, is when the private sessions begin. She’d spent the remainder of yesterday and the entirety of the morning following behind the careers as they moved stations. They focused heavily on showing off their skills. Clove, the girl from Two, was a master with knives. Cato favored a sword, Marvel was good with a spear. Glimmer, Marvel’s district partner, was decent with a bow.

Glimmer was something to see, she could see her succeeding in the games. Long, lean, and muscled, Glimmer looked like something off of a Capitol magazine. What she lacked in skills she made up for with her beauty and silver tongue. More than once, Cato had fetched her weapon from the rack or gotten up to get her something she asked for. All it took from her was a smile and the touch of her hand. Clove seemed upset about it, but even she said nothing. 

Glimmer is the second person to be called for her private session, right after Marvel. As the female tribute for Twelve, Y/N has a long wait. At first the room seems to buzz with conversations, though all talking ceases the moment Cato leaves for his session. Clove has no interest in talking to her and, knowing she isn’t wanted, she stands and moves to find Peeta instead. 

They sit in a tense silence as the other tributes are called and exit, waiting for their own names. When Thresh is called, Rue moves to sit closer to them. She talks quietly with Peeta, sparing Y/N glances every now and again though she doesn’t speak. When Rue is called, they’re left alone. The silence returns until Peeta is called. He sighs, standing and heading towards the door. 

“Peeta,” She calls, startled by her own voice. He turns easily, brows raised as he waits for her to speak. “Just, remember what Haymitch said. Be sure to remember the weights.”

He nods, giving her a small smile. Her tense shoulders relax a bit as she prepares herself to be alone in the room. Continuing towards the door, Peeta calls back to her. His voice echos in the quiet room. “Thanks. Good luck, Y/N.”

She nods back. If she can’t win, she wants Peeta to. Its better for her family,for their district. If Twelve has a victor they’ll be given food for an entire year, which in turn gives next year’s tributes a better shot. For career districts, maybe this doesn’t matter. 

When her name is called after what feels like an eternity, she stans and moves to the door. On the other side, the gamemakers sit up in their viewpoint, looking down on the training room floor. She moves to stand in front of them. Many seem to have enjoyed too much wine, talking and laughing loudly to one another as she approaches. They’ve been through twelve districts, plenty of time to finish at least a bottle a piece. 

Still, there is nothing to do but enact Haymitch’s plan. Of her skills, only two could be worth showing. There is nothing to snare here but herself, or perhaps a training dummy if she could lug it across the floor. Off to the side, there is a rack of bows. Theyre made of a variety of materials and sit by matching quiversof arrows. She plucks a silver one from the rack, shouldering the quiver and taking a stance before the gamemakers. There are basic targets down range from the rack, but across the gym are move lifelike dummies, like the ones Clove used during training. They’re farther, but she’s shot smaller game at a greater distance. 

The moment she pulls back the string she knows something is amiss. Unlike her bow back home, this one feels tight. She takes aim nonetheless, trying to avoid psyching herself out and insead taking a steadying breath in. Breathe, aim, let loose.

The arrow misses the dummy by several inches and she knows that she’s lost any attention they may have been paying her. She glances up, only managing to confirm her fears.

Instead of looking at her, all eyes are turned on a table behind them. A large pig has made an appearance, skin perfectly roasted a golden brown color. She forces herself to take a deep breath, turning back to her target. She nocks another arrow, steadying herself and adjusting her aim for this bow. When the arrow flies, its immediately clear to her that it’ll land. It sinks deep into the dummy’s head, nocking it’s head back in a graphically intense manner. The arrow sinks deep, surely protruding from the other side of it’s head. Right between the eyes, she smiles proudly. She turns back, excited to see the gamemakers reactions. 

Still, the gamemakers are absorbed in their meal. They’re laughing, clapping one another on the back with huge smiles. 

Frustrated and bordering on furious, she rips an arrow from her quiver, nocking it and pulling the bowstring taut. In the roast pig’s mouth rests a perfect red apple. She takes aim and lets go. 

The arrow strikes the apple, flying a few feet further before pinning it to the wall. The gamemakers turn, and her stomach leaps into her throat. Why had she done that? She had never been an incredible shot, she’s lucky no one is horrifically injured or dead. Still, she curtsies low to them, hanging on to her confident air. “Thank you for your time.” 

She rights herself, forcing her muscles to move slowly, to not shake. The bow is set back in its place. Her feet carry her quickly to the door to the elevator, slamming her hand onto the button to her floor without waiting for dismissal. Some mix of horror at herself and the motion of the elevator makes her stomach sink to her feet and the rise quickly into her throat. Why, why shoot an arrow at the people solely capable of making the next few weeks of her life hell? It was that pig, that damned pig. She’s facing her final days and they hadn’t even had the decency to pay attention to her.

More than that, it was her own temper. For the second time in the last week, she’d signed her own death certificate. She sinks against the back wall of the elevator, imagining the glass breaking and her plummeting to a quick death at the bottom of the elevator shaft.

#Peeta #Peeta Mellark #the hunger games peeta #THG Peeta #peeta mellark x reader #spark #The Hunger Games #Hunger Games #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games rewrite

[up-to-some-good]

Traditions (9/9)

Happy New Year! Do me a favour and pretend this was posted yesterday 😂

Previous Part

25 December 1981

The flat was a mess. There were dishes stacked in the kitchen, waiting for someone to wash them, and someone needed to clear the table and pack everything away. Leftovers needed to be put in containers and the gingerbread house needed to be deconstructed and put in the cookie jar.

At the very least, the living room wasn't a disaster. James had been in charge of collecting wrapping paper, and had made sure to get every scrap in a garbage bag, which he had set by the door. The Potters had left with their gifts, so it was only their own stacks remaining to be packed away.

Remus would add the books to the pile next to his bed to be read later. His new sweater would go in the closet and stolen by Sirius before the new year. The star pendant from Sirius was already hanging around his neck, and would not be moving as long as he lived.

Sirius had already put his records in the correct place on the shelf, and his new healing book was lying open on the coffee table.

Remus hadn't given him the ring yet, had planned to catch him under the mistletoe and surprise him, but Sirius had been focused on cooking lunch all day, then on his godson's first real Christmas, so he hadn't had his chance. He'd do it later, when the flat was clean and everything was packed away.

The war had ended in October that year. For the first time, they could celebrate the holidays as a family without worrying about their safety. They had agreed that they would host Christmas for everyone, and the Potter family would take Hanukkah, and that would be their new tradition.

Christmas had been more than they expected and Remus was tired just from watching Sirius work. Sirius had taken on the task of cooking the meal, working for two straight days from Effie's recipe book. He had tried to help, but was summarily banned from the kitchen after only an hour of trying to assist, instead cleaning up the flat and setting the table.

Sirius was now fast asleep, lying on top of Remus on the couch. His face was buried in his boyfriend's chest, and he was snoring gently. Something was digging into Remus's back on the couch, and his leg was starting to go dead from the position it was pinned in, but he wasn't moving. He hadn't seen Sirius sleep this deeply in months, maybe even years, and he wasn't going to ruin it for anything. So they'd be late for that night's Hanukkah celebrations, and he'd be limping when he stood up later, and the flat would remain a mess for a while, and maybe he'd propose on Boxing Day, instead of Christmas like he planned. But Sirius was safe, and he was asleep, and that was all that mattered. Remus wasn't moving. Not until Sirius did first.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar fic #christmas fic #christmas fluff #happy endings only in this house #everybody lives au #Harry grows up with his mom and his dad and his gay godfathers and is happy #and accurate hannukah dates because i am pedantic

[kahlanmars]

PAPER RINGS part. 2

HELLO. This is the second chapter! I like this sequel but it's harder than the first one. Thanks for the hearts!

MASTERLIST

2. Party like a Capitol

You are bursting with rage. How could he? He chose her. He really thought it was a good idea to make her a maid, the very same thing you were when you two fell in love. And now Marjorie Tyrell is looking through your stuff, your closet, your dresses. And they are together all the time. You can picture them, a happy family without age gap or any other problem, Ivy wandering around the house, Haymitch on the couch with her. They were in love when they were sixteen and you can’t help but wonder if the spark could still be there. Maybe they will talk about the great days, when they were so young and free and careless and they will grow closer and closer and they will kiss, and one day Haymitch will come to Capitol City just to tell you that he doesn’t love you anymore and he wants to marry her, not you, because you are too young and stupid and superficial...

«Is everything okay?» Effie asks, and you notice now that she is hugging you, her hands covering yours.

«Yes, why?»

«You were breathing hard. I got worried.» 

You quickly explain everything to her. «…So now I will confront him, right?»

«Wrong.» She shakes her head. She also looks a little disappointed, like you never learned anything from your time together.

«But I want to know, and I highly doubt she will tell him about the phone call.»

«And you will know everything, but with time. Now you act like nothing happened. When he comes on friday I’ll stay at Portia and you will give him the best two days of his life. A romantic dinner, a beautiful lingerie I don’t want to know about, you will figure out this part but he has to feel guilty. You will have to be so perfect he will be so guilty he will tell you everything.»

You look at her like she is the bringer of light. She knows everything about flirting, relationships and men in general, and you want to know all the things she can teach you. Then again, it must be so easy for her to make someone fall in love, she is a Goddess. You are pretty, there is a difference.

Even if you would never tell a soul you think you are just pretty. If you say you are beautiful maybe they will see you like this.

She doesn’t need that. Her sparkling blue eyes, her shining blonde hair, the endless legs and the pretty face… sometimes you stare at her like she is a stunning painting, and all you can think is lucky Portia.

«And then?»

«And then you will go to Twelve the next weekend and you will make it clear what and who is yours.»

You nod. There’s a calculating genius in this breathtaking woman. 

«And then I can yell the shit out of him for his behavior.»

«Language, dear, no need to get sloppy.» She strokes your hair. «And then you can explain your reasons and make him beg for forgiveness, yes.»

«That’s a plan.»

Putting your head into work is the most intelligent thing you can do, and you try and try to make everything right. Portia needs to deliver like a million jackets for this weekend, you definitely don’t want to spend your saturday in the office so you go on until it’s done, it doesn't matter if you don’t have lunch or dinner. You took care of Effie’s meals in the morning.

Despite the effort and the struggle, you love fashion. You like what you do, even if all you are doing is sewing buttons to the jackets. And you notice you are learning a lot from your time, your work is prettier and stable now, you make less mistakes and you have more ideas. 

If only you could conciliate this with, you know, eating and sleeping. Just when you think you will fall asleep on the table, you spot a brown head going to your place. Perla. She has a bright smile and she brings gifts, handing you a little bag of sweets.

«Who is ready to go out tonight?» She tries to say with an excited voice, but she turns to be annoyed almost immediately when she spots your expression.

«Perla, I can’t go out. And I can’t eat them either, everybody in this damn city is so obsessed with dieting.» You watch her for a moment and then you go back to your work. Perla is rocking this Capitol experience. She found a job in the government almost immediately thanks to her connection with the Revolution, she is living with Cinna who adores her and she seems very happy with her life. Like Haymitch comes to you on the weekends, she usually goes to District Four where she can bring your embroidered bibs for baby Finn to Finnick and Annie. And she discovered a new side of her, she is still smart in her decisions but she is more carefree. 

«No, we thought about everything. We will go out tonight, so on friday you will be sober and ready for your oldie and he will never know.»

«And Portia? I have to work for her in the morning.»

«Portia and Cinna suggested it! They are working too hard too, and they think it will be cool for us to know the city life. Plus, I’m worried about Lora and maybe a night out with friends will help her.» If Portia suggested it it’s another thing, because you know how your boss’ mind works. Sure she needs some time out, but maybe she also wants you to mingle in the party to make new friends, some model friends, some other designers. 

«I suppose that could take things out of her mind…»

«And in two weeks it will be your birthday, it’s like an early celebration.»

You bite your lip. You actually forgot about your twenty five birthday. «I usually work on my wedding dress at night during the week.»

«A day. You will leave your wedding dress for a day. Think about the cocktails…» She daydreams. «The dancing… the cute boys who buy us drinks…»

«You live with Cinna and I have to get married.»

«And I will never refuse a free drink. C’mon! For Lora. And for your bestest friend Perla. And I think Effie needs it too.»

Effie seriously needs some time off, and you are curious about partying. In the district you don’t have a birthday celebration, your mother bakes you a cookie or, if you are rich enough, you can have a cake from the Mellark’s bakery. That’s it, and then you go back to work and you are a little older. Some parents don’t celebrate their kids' birthdays because they don’t want to jinx it. Or to waste money on someone who can die easily. Some parents only celebrate kids’ birthdays. 

Let alone partying for the sake of it. You don’t have a club, or a pub or a bar or all the other terms you came to know in Capitol City. You have the hob where you can buy alcohol, or you go to Sae and you eat. 

«Daisy? With me.» Portia requests. Well, she orders. «Perla you are free to join us or go.»

You follow your boss to her office, while Perla decides to go. That’s a nice office, exactly what you pictured when you thought about it. It has fabric everywhere, patterns and specimens, and it’s exciting. You want an office like this one day.

«I’ve had an idea and I need you.» She begins, and she has a spark in her eyes. The same spark you are sure she had when she designed those outfits for Katniss and Peeta with Cinna in the first Hunger Games, the same spark that made your dress with the black sparkles for your chariot. That is the force that moves her, her talent. 

«I’m all ears.»

«I want to make a collection about the Districts. Not like in the Hunger Games, where it was about the jobs, I want to make a collection about the folklore costumes, the usual outfits, the ways a District Four girl and a District Twelve guy dresses every day and on special occasions. This will be a way to show Capitol people that Districts have a culture too, and a history, and we should respect them.»

You are not sure Capitols will ever respect district people, but that is a good idea. Not a ridiculous outfit for the Hunger Games, but a piece of history, of your history.

«I asked Cinna for District One given that he was born there and he collaborates with me, and Perla can give us advice for District Four. Lora for District Eleven, and of course you for District Twelve. But you and Cinna could design the dress. It will have your name on it.»

«That’s a lot…» You inhale.

«But do you feel ready?» 

No, of course not, sewing dresses for your dolls is not the same thing as designing a dress for a runway. «Yes, yes of course.»

«Good.» She looks satisfied. «So you will look for ideas in the next few days. If you want to go back and visit your mom it will be a great opportunity, maybe you will find something in her old dresses. Okay?»

Actually you miss Holly. She is so stubborn with her belief against the phone calls, but her letters are always late and not the same thing.

«Okay, Tia.» 

Partying in the district means a seasonal fair, or a birthday if you are rich. A wedding, sometimes. Partying in the city is… different. A “club”, that’s how Effie called the place you are. And all the girls are so pretty it’s blinding. Perla is in a blue mini skirt with a goldfish on, maybe a gift from Cinna, while Lora and Effie are in sparkly dresses. You borrowed one of Effie’s clothes, a mini black dress with a heart cleavage. You are not sure you can measure them, is your makeup too strong? Or the braiding of your hair too loose?

«Are you used to it by now?» You ask the girls. They went clubbing a lot more than you, because you are scared Haymitch could smell alcohol in your dresses or something like that. Your Fridays are with him, their Fridays are in the clubs.

«Definitely not.» Lora answers. She is not as blinded as you are, but they are still new for her too. District Eleven is not one for parties. Ten, eleven and twelve are - well, were - the poorest districts. Maybe Perla thinks you are all in the same situation, but she is used to some things you are not.

«Well, parties in Four are like this, just not for us. It was for capitols on holiday. I used to be a bartender sometimes.» The blue eyed girl shrugs. 

«Daisy?» Portia calls for you. «This is one of the models who will work for us. She is a family friend.» 

«I’m Lavinia.» 

The girl is very beautiful. She has golden hair and green eyes, she has a nice perfect nose, she is taller than the sun and the high heels she wears do not help, and she has a little orange dress you could never afford.

«Daisy.» You shake her hand but maybe you do it too hard, because she massages her after. You are mortified.

«What a… simple name. Cute.» 

She spends the rest of the night with you and the girls. She is nice, or she seems nice, but you can’t help but compare her to you. She looks so… rich. So classy. So Capitol. You wanted to be a girl like her once upon a time, before the war, before the Games.

Turns out you can’t party like a Capitol. Effie drinks more than you’ve ever seen, and she is still lucid and if not sober, close to it. Portia is the same, they are trained, those two. You are not, and in the morning you have a heavy headache and nausea. 

When you see Haymitch standing at the door, this friday, you really think about telling him everything about the calling. 

But then he smiles. Not a smirk, an actual smile. The rage is gone and you just jump into his arms and, when he makes you spin and he kisses you, you chicken out. These are the only three days you are happy with him. What he did without asking is wrong but you can tell him tomorrow.

You want your home now. And your home happens to be a forty one handsome man with majestic gray eyes.

«Hey. Is everything okay?» He asks, because you have no intention of letting him go.

«I just missed you.» You explain. 

«I’m here now.» He forces your head to lift up to meet your eyes. «But it’s just that, right? You are not hurt.»

He is always worried about you. It’s so sweet, but you are in a safe environment now and you are working all day.

«Just tired.» You assure him, and you kiss him again. «We can go see a movie. Capitol people do that all the time.»

He snorts. “Capitol people do” it’s not something that he likes to hear. 

«We can see movies at home.»

«But I want to do it Capitol style! And then I heard couples don’t watch the film. They kiss in the dark.»

«And can’t I kiss at Effie’s? It’s the same thing.»

«If you want… but I prepared everything. Snuggling at the cinema, then a dinner with your favorite dishes and for the after dinner I sewed something just for you…» You lean for a lingering kiss. «I can’t wait for you to rip it off.»

«And to what do I owe the honor or all this?»

«I missed you so much. I thought of losing you and…» You cling over him. «I want to be yours.»

«You are mine, baby.» He is a bit puzzled. He doesn’t know what it got into you, so maybe he is innocent. Maybe he didn’t do anything, Marjorie lied just to spite you, just to hurt you as much as she is hurt.

«Never tired of me?» You ask one more time, and you admit you have your best puppy eyes on.

«Never.» He bites your shoulder. «C’mon, let’s go to the cinema.»

«Really??» You jump in joy. You love cinema. You love the movies, the celebrities, the outfits you can replicate when you have time. That’s the best thing about Capitol City and you will miss it so much when you’ll get back to Twelve.

«Yeah, I mean, I can’t say no to kisses in the dark, can I?» 

You don’t even know what the movie was about. As soon as the lights went out, Haymitch was all over you like a teenage boy in a romantic comedy (Effie loves them). And for a minute, between kisses and his hands roaming through your body, everything was okay.

You try to make it last. With his lips on your neck, you almost think not to talk with him about the phone call.

«Let’s skip dinner.» He pants when you arrive home and he decides he has to attack your neck and earlobe with kisses again.

«What is with you and my plan tonight? I prepared everything! Don’t you like my new dress? It’s a Daisy Pinecone Abernathy original.» 

«Nice dress.» He agrees, groping you without any shame. «Better on the floor.»

«So eager.» You bite your bottom lip. Well, at least now you know he still wants you. «I tell you what, go in my room. I’ll bring the food there and we can play a little game. It’s called “Who wants to eat on Daisy?”»

His smirk deepens with pride. «Everyone, I can assure you, but only I can do it.» 

«That’s really, really true. Dear heavens, you are so handsome it’s not fair.» You gush over him, and he takes you in his arms for a last kiss before taking you upstairs. 

You linge in the bed afterwards. You tend to be sleepy and just lazy on the weekends, partly because you get to be cuddled all the time, partly because you are tired as hell.

«So I met this girl…» You begin while you stroke his blonde hair, as he is resting on your stomach. You love how domestic he is.

«Should I be jealous?»

«Always.» You flash him a smile, «No, it's weird. She doesn't do or say anything wrong but when she goes out I feel less… less everything. Not pretty enough or talented or smart.»

«She sounds like a bitch.» He is always so adamant in his words. And so simple. If you are Capitol you most certainly are Effie Trinket or a bitch.

«She really doesn't do anything, maybe I'm just feeling a little down.» You observe. You are not sad. You don’t have anything to be sad about. You are working in the office of your dreams, to have the career of your dreams, and you are about to marry the man you are in love with. 

«Do you want me to stay for a while? I can find a hotel.» He looks at you with worry in his eyes as you shake your head.

«No. Katniss and Peeta need a dad, you can't.» You kiss him. His lips are the thing you miss most about him. So soft, and sweet… 

«My wife needs me too.» You smile, a real smile. His wife.

«We are not married yet, Haymitch. As much as you resent the word, I'm still the girlfriend.» You chide him. 

«If it were for me, I’d marry you right now.» 

He hints at it so many times. You know he would want to keep it simple, and it’s simple, it is… you just know a lot of people and you want pretty things.

«You know it's weird because I wanted her to notice me. I wanted her to like me, like she was more than me and I needed her approval.» You explain.

«That's plain stupid, Sweetheart. Because you are the smartest…» He kisses your belly first. «Most beautiful.» And then your cleavage. «And the funniest girl I've ever met.» He finally kisses your lips.

«Good thing you are marrying me.» You smile again, against his lips. You tend to smile a lot when he is involved. «Do you want to see the dresses for the bridesmaids?»

«Isn’t it bad luck or something?» He asks. 

«These are just sketches and it’s not my dress.» You get up to get him the notebook. Your bridesmaids will be in beautiful dresses.

Effie, Perla, Lora and maybe Portia, if she manages not to kill you before the wedding. Annie, if she feels up to it.

«You are talented.» He notes. But he is not smiling anymore. «Do we need this?»

«What do you mean?»

«Bridesmaids, best men, dresses and catering… this is not us. This is the Capitol. In the District we have the toasting.» He murmurs, circling your leg with his fingers. «I would marry you tomorrow. You and me.»

«No Katniss? No Peeta?» You ask, a little anxious with the direction of the conversation. «We’ll have the toasting. And we can keep it simple.»

«How many people, Sweetheart?» He is doubtful. Of you. 

«You don’t have a family, I only have Holly. We could have my mom, your children, Perla, Cinna and Lora, Finnick and Annie with their child, Effie and Portia, Chaff… do you want Johanna?» You don’t like Johanna, especially after you found out she has the habit of wandering around naked. 

He stays silent for a while. «You deserve beautiful things.»

You return under the sheets, ready for his embrace. «I’d marry you with paper rings.»

He kisses your head. «Just don’t tire yourself more than that. You are strained.»

«I am a little tired.» You admit. «But I’m strong. I can do that.»

«Just sleep now, Sweetheart. Don’t worry about anything for two days.»

#haymitch x fem!reader #bad feeling #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch x reader #woody harrelson #haymitch imagine #the hunger games #fanfiction #haymitch abernathy #paper rings #thg series #thg fanfiction #thg katniss #peeta mellark #catching fire #katniss everdeen #mockingjay #capitol city #effie trinket

[u1travi0lett]

Effy’s 1st day @ college

Recreation of Effy’s outfit in S3 episode 1.

Dress is closet alt I’ve seen, to my knowledge nobody has found the screen accurate dress. Wears short just like Effy’s, same fit etc. Bought on vinted for like £8.

#effy stonem #effy stonem outfits #skins effy #skins aesthetic #skins uk #skins gen 1 #skins gen 2

[cuddlebugsirius]

honestly I totally agree with anon who talked about caregiver Sirius!!

Like he is the oldest brother it's in his blood to look after someone he loves and make sure they had enough water & sleep & food though the day. He remember to reminds Remus about idk his vitamins or a cup of water in the morning for example

He always have take out coffee for Remus (and Lily too!!) when he is still at work while Sirius is already done. Sirius stops by the Atelier to give it to him and ask Lily to make sure that Remus goes home no later than he should today and then he go on about his business and texting Moony sometimes to ask smth stupid & make him smile

Like !ofc! Remus the best dd ever but he chose Sirius the oldest brother Black who can accidentally hit himself with a closet door for 3 times or sometimes needs to get a command to do something but he also can be LIKE THIS

He just doesn't need to think as much as he does with Regulus because Remus is ready to take care of everything for him but forgets to take care of himself

Should I apologize lol??

Hi Anon! I feel like this has been sitting here a few days because my energy has been caput, sorry about that ♥️

Definitely no need to apologise! Although I think Sirius is probably more middle child than he is older brother because of Effie's fussing, but he 100% takes care of the people he loves and loves doing it. Maybe that's why Remus is so great for him, helps him to accept that he needs to look after himself too and know he's deserving of good love.

I think his love language is both physical touch and acts of service, and once he's in he's all in. He knows just what Remus needs, sees him wincing as he stands? Hot water bottle for Remus, anti-inflammatories at the ready. Remus is at work still? Coffee for Rem- Remus and Lily are at work still?! Coffee for both of them!

#fic: atelier bloom st #jess speaks #hi anon #wolfstar