when mags turns and sees finnick and just has this small smile

A year of hunger.

Writer: @slytherinfromtheseam (find me on FF and AO3)

Prompt: Hunger

Rating: T

Trigger Warning(s): True life!

Summary: We’re a million miles from home…a million miles from anyone that we know. Well, 1,018 miles to be exact with almost nothing.


We brought very few things with us: a mattress, a small television, a box of movies, Prim’s crib from when she was a baby, one suitcase of clothes for both us, a few kitchen utensils and an old futon. When Willow was a couple of months old, I loaded up my jeep and left Texas in the middle of the night. With $2000 in cash and pay-as-you-go phone, we drove to our new home.

Little did I know, that the drive would destroy the carburetor on my jeep and cause me to go into a full panic once we got here. My car was making a terrible knocking sound and would die at stop signs. I opened up the phone book that was left on our stairs before we moved in and called the first repair shop on the list. Thankfully the shop took me back home while they looked over the car. I cried two hours later as they told me the problem and how much it would cost to fix it. I thanked them and let them know I’d be in soon to pick it.

I wasn’t too far from campus; I could walk if need be. Grocery shopping would cause a bit of an issue, but I could get a bike. The problem? The two feet of snow outside and 5 more months of it to come. I cried again when they called back to tell me that a local church has covered the cost to fix it and they’d bring it back when it was done. I made a mental note to repay them someday. Who knows when, but eventually.

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jeynegrey  asked:

hey could you write about haymitch and effie watching the 75th games together please?

anything for you  ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ it is your prompt but it is also effie trinket and beauty routines. sort of. thank you xo!!


It starts with a scrap of paper, as it does every year. Less than usual, three names in two fish bowls. Effie writes out the names herself in looping, rounded, beautiful letters that show no sign of her shaking hands. There is a temptation; to fold a corner or mark blank space, but she doesn’t know what she would do with that information. It makes her sick to think that there might be a name she wants to pick. She gives them to a peacekeeper and she shuts her eyes while he drops them in and when she calls Haymitch’s name and Peeta volunteers she feels them both dying in her hands.

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icequeenpowers  asked:

Hey! My birthday is on November 3rd and I would really appreciate it if someone wrote me a birthday drabble. I really like stories where Everlark are already in an established relationship and live together, modern AU too. Thanks!!

Originally posted by mori852

Happiest of birthdays! This lovely bit of Everlark goodness was written especially for you by @peetazeus. Enjoy!!


The Devil Wears Fur

Rated:T

A/N: There are references to sex, alcoholism/drinking and to devil/satan for the trigger warnings! 


“I’m home!”

Katniss pushed the front door behind her and leaned against it slightly, closing her eyes momentarily. The drops from the rain fell onto the floor, dripping off her jacket which she hastily put up on the hooks Peeta drilled into the wall after most of their (her) things ended up in a pile on the floor.

Not that she complained, watching her husband with tools and a drill turned out to have quite an effect on Katniss after all.

“In here!”

An amazing smell filled her nostrils and it made her mouth water, her fingernails press into the skin of her palms and her knees weak. She was used to this. Being greeted by some water watering smell and it never got old. She smelled something savoury, with a hint of various spices and maybe chicken? And something sweet-definitely pie. Oh, she really hoped it was apple.

Peeta’s food senses had really rubbed off on her.

If there was something Katniss could possibly love more than her husband, it was his cooking.

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War of Hearts- A Hunger Games AU

A Hunger Games AU in which Caroline is the mentor and Klaus is the Tribute.

This was supposed to be for Klaroline AU week, and it’s part 1 of god knows how many, but I wanted to share with you all. I do have plans to finish this one!

Warnings: This is pretty dark. Caroline is depressed and suffering from PTSD. A mention of her contemplating suicide. Don’t hit Read More if this is something that will potentially affect you. 


Sometimes, when she wakes up screaming in the middle of the night, she lets the rope slip through her fingers. It calms her, grounds her. Brings her back down to Earth when all she wants to do is sink into the darkness, let it claim her.

She lets herself make knots in the darkness, leftover remnants of a life before the Games, when all that was required of her was to help her father repair the nets so they could trap fish for themselves, and for the rest of the district.

It was the only way they could survive. 

There are no happy memories associated with her time in the arena. Caroline likes to tell everyone that it’s just a blur, but in reality the memories have crystallised, the shards piercing her body and soul every time there’s even a whisper of the Capitol, a mention of The Games. 

She’d been the youngest person to win The Games, and she’d done it when she was 12 years old. The betters in the Capitol had written her off as a dead girl walking, and even Finnick O’Dair hadn’t bothered himself with her, putting all of his time and energy into coaching a then 14 year old Matthew Donovan, who had been tall and blonde and unusually strong for his age.

Matt in the end, hadn’t even lasted ten minutes. And she’d very quickly garnered a reputation. She was reluctant to kill, but in the end she did what she had to do. Anyone who says otherwise is kidding themselves.

She wasn’t anything special. The girl with a scowl that stretched across her own face, that made her far too unsuitable for the prostitution that they had no qualms in putting Finnick through. It seems even President Snow had his limits, at least when it came to 12 year old girls.

But she would not give the Capitol the satisfaction of dying so young, of giving the fools in the Capitol the spectacle that they didn’t deserve.

Even a shiny new house for her family and riches beyond her wildest dreams wasn’t enough. Not if it meant that she had to relive the horror  of The Games every year for the next five years. Mags had gotten too old to mentor, Annie far too affected.

And so she’d gotten on the train with Finnick O’Dair, had pasted on a smile for the rest of Panem, and had sent 10 kids to their death.

And so it goes.

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