gr: odesta


Joniss/Odesta Artist AU-

Hot water got turned off,

can’t pay it ‘till the car gets fixed.

Got some money that I’ll probably spend at the bar this weekend,

In my stupid land of all my dreams

I’ve gone crazy 'cause I love what you’ve got

You could come over but the pile of dirty socks,

outside my door might turn you off a little.

It might turn you off a lot.

-Family of the Year “Stupidland”

I have a lot of feelings about Finnick and Annie trying to navigate having a romantic relationship even though he was her mentor and the Capitol makes everything dangerous so when they meet Beetee and Wiress and realize that the older couple also have a romantic relationship, they feel this kinship and are so happy to have someone to get advice from.

So are we just gonna completely ignore how lost, heartbroken and utterly fucked up Finnick looked after the jabberjay sene? I know this scene is meant to focus on everyone’s reaction to Johanna’s tirade against President Snow, but Finnick can’t even focus on what she’s saying. All he’s thinking is “there’s a 50/50 chance that the only woman I ever loved is being tortured to death at this very moment.”

Unfortunately for Finnick, he was correct.

anonymous asked:

Odesta prompt: (Before the 70th Hunger Games, during Annie's training); After having a conversation in the middle of the night, Annie realizes Finnick isn't the arrogant, flirtatious guy he pretends to be?

Annie started awake in the middle of the night at the sound of crash in the living room. Muffled cursing ensued. She sighed. Surely it was her negligent mentor, who’d made a habit of returning to the apartment late into the night, if he ever did at all. True to form, the clock read 3:38 am. She thought for a moment, debating whether or no to go back to sleep. But she heard more swearing, and more things breaking, and reluctantly she got out of bed. 

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Odesta Oneshot (Originally for Tide Pools)

“Finnick,” the urgent tone in Annie’s voice cuts through my sleep like a blade through skin, and I’m immediately awake. 

“What is it?” I sit up, and as I scan the room, I can’t help but glance at the clock. 2:37 am. 

Annie hasn’t responded. Her eyes are blank as she devotes all her concentration to listening. It’s then that I hear it too—a series of distant, shuffling sounds. Footsteps. Someone is in the house. 

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