projectsuperwoman

[thesweetnessofspring]

Everlark as parents--Katniss is definitely going to be the have-another-cookie, stay-up-an-extra-half-hour parent and Peeta will be the enforcer--"no, you've had two cookies already, now brush your teeth and go to bed, you have ten minutes."

But Katniss is going to be the super protective mom. The "I have to meet their parents before you go over to their house" and "no, I said no sleepovers" and "yes, I still have to walk you to school." While Peeta has to monitor her protectiveness and strike the middle ground. ("honeybee, you were going into the woods alone at her age, she can go to the grocery store on her own, it's only two blocks").

It keeps the toast babies guessing sometimes about whether what they're asking for is an indulgence their mom won't be able to resist giving them, or some unknown danger they hadn't even thought of yet.

[not-feeling-the-aster]

Her favorite uncle

Another short story about teenage Willow Everdeen Mellark, but this time at her home in District 12. She sneaked out to have some fun with her friends at night, and now she must face her parents. But no worries, uncle Haymitch is there to save the day, well kind of. I just wanted to write something about Haymitch being an old uncle/grandpa figure to Katniss and Peeta's daughter. In my mind she can be quite rebellious and impulsive, while still loving her family and wanting to make them proud. But she's also young and wants to have fun. I like thinking that between her and Haymitch there is a special bond, he listens to her and tries his best to guide her. And she trusts him deeply. Also, Willow and her brother (Rye) do get along and love each other, I just didn't develop their relationship that much this time. tw: mentions of underage drinking

The treacherous keys slip from my hands and hit the ground. I curse under my breath. At this pace, there’s no way I’ll get in the house without making any noise. Great. My head’s killing me and now I’ll have to come up with an excuse to explain my night out. I can see my parents’ face already. I think about my brother, biting his tongue, acting like he doesn’t know anything about me sneaking out. He’d never snitch on me, but I know how much he hates secrets. In this family trust is everything, and I respect that. But I just wanted to have some fun with my friends. Is that so wrong?

Under the night sky, I struggle to see the keys, and the drunkenness doesn’t help much. I finally find them and continue on my way, dragging my feet. I'm about to resign myself to the consequences when I notice light coming from Haymitch’s kitchen. Could he be awake at this hour? Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me. Curiosity drives me to stealthily approach his window and when I take a peek inside, I jump back startled. Sitting at the table, drinking something hot, is my old uncle Haymitch looking at me without an ounce of surprise. Mi mind is still somewhat confused, but if one thing’s for sure, is that I’m in trouble. And he knows it too. He points at the door with his thumb and his eyes leave no space for refusal.

As I enter the kitchen, I'm enveloped by the smell of coffee. With his back to me, he's making a second cup. I sit down and place my head on my arms.  

"So, tell me, did you have fun, little one?" he asks handing me the drink.

"How did you know?" I mumble with my eyes closed.

"Your brother called me" I lift my head so fast I get dizzy.

"Hey, you know it’s not his fault. He’s just worried about you. You should be thankful he didn’t tell your parents, honey" and he’s right. I can’t blame Rye for anything. I’m the one who broke the rules.

"What about you? Why didn’t you say anything?"

"I think you’re old enough to fend for yourself. But if they find out, I won’t deny anything, you hear me?" he declares with an accusing finger.

"Thank you Haymitch" I offer him one of those smiles I use to soften him. They always work, even if he denies it.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now drink your coffee and tell me what you’ve been up to over there"

There’s no point in hiding anything to him, he can read my mind without trying. So, I tell him all about the laughs, the dancing, the drinking and the gossip. We keep talking until dawn, and, even though he doesn’t judge me for my juvenile adventures, he asks me to be more responsible next time. Especially with my drinking. At times like this I wonder how his life used to be before I was born. Even if my family tries to be as honest as possible about their past, I know there’re things that are just too hard to explain. I understand that, so I don’t pressure them, but sometimes I can’t help but think about it.

When the phone rings, Haymitch tells my mom I had agreed to help him with his geese that morning. Apparently, I was so excited with the task that I had woken up extra early to enjoy breakfast with my favorite uncle. I doubt she bought it, but she didn’t ask more questions. Later I understand that she just wanted to laugh at my disastrous attempt to deal with those wild animals. Well, at least someone’s having a good time. With that said, I think I won’t drink again for a long, long time.

[malinaa]

if i think about the hunger games in peeta's perspective i WILL start sobbing

[googleincognitomode]

i know some ppl can see katniss as the strict parent, but it has never came into my mind. have you seen how easy she can be w prim? have you seen peeta in cf? strict personal trainer extraordinaire ??!! katniss would look right into her kid’s face- connect something w peeta like her daughters blue eyes or her sons face and would go ‘okay-just don’t tell your father this- please. i don’t want you in trouble my little ducks’ ! allowing them to get away w it. not to say peeta wouldn’t be a fantastic parent- he would just be the more strict on w rule and routine

[periwinckles]

If there was no rebellion, and Katniss succeeded in her plans for the quarter quell, Peeta would have been the victor.

Which means, she would have died, and her mother and Prim would have lost privilege, the money and the house.

Why would Katniss risk Prim's safety (and her mother as well), something that was always her driving force, to save Peeta's life?

Because she knew he would have taken care of them.

Book 1 we see Katniss asking Gale to take care of her family.

Book 2 we see Katniss assuming Peeta would take care of them, without even asking.

[charlunday]

My own personal headcanon is that Katniss and Peeta's son gets jealous of his sister's braids and grows his hair out long like her. And so the cycle repeats itself

[buggiebite]

Down in the Valley

TW: slight nudity

Down in the valley, the valley so low

Late in the evening, hear the train blow

The train, love, hear the train blow

Late in the evening, hear the train blow

Go build me a mansion, build it so high

So I can see my true love go by

See him go by, love, see him go by

So I can see my true love go by

Go write me a letter, send it by mail

Bake it and stamp it to the Capitol jail

The Capital jail, love, the Capitol jail

Bake it and stamp it to the Capitol jail

Roses are red, violets are blue

Birds in the heavens know I love you

Know I love you, oh know I love you

Birds in the heavens know I love you

[madeofjules]

Quietly one of Katniss and Peeta's best kisses. They're in their "real friends/fake lovers" phase but here she kisses him because she genuinely wants to, not because she has to.

[atelierlili]

Peeta would give Buttercup a seat the table for dinner. It would piss Katniss the fuck off, but as the old demon gets older, she softens and passes him more scraps when she thinks Peeta isn't looking.

[thesweetnessofspring]

Post-Mockingjay Everlark family. For @toasted-peeta-baby. Rated T.

The boy wakes up for no particular reason that night, but once he's up, he can't stay in bed. In footed pajamas, he pads from his carpeted bedroom to the hardwood hallway floors and as alert as he is during noonday. His sister will be too cranky if he wakes her up, but Momma always carries him back to bed when he goes to her. Just the two of them, her skin rippled under his hands and his head on her shoulder with all of the softness and strength a boy could want in his mother. Safe, loved, and protected. Then she'll sing him a song before kissing his curls and putting him to sleep again.

Taking him out of this blend of memories is his mother's own voice. It wasn't like her nightmare screams that she'd explained to him or her regular speaking voice. She drew out a long, pained moan with a little whimper at the end. Then, she says two words. Peeta. That was Daddy. And another word the boy heard Uncle Haymitch say whenever one of his geese bit him or he staggered into the corner of a table. A word that meant he was hurt. A word Momma had sternly told the boy to never repeat.

The alarm immediately ran through him. Why was Momma hurt? She still made that noise, said that word again, and what was Daddy doing about this as she pleaded with him? The boy rankles as the suspicion comes.

Daddy was hurting Momma?

It seemed so impossible, so unlike Daddy, but then why was Momma saying his name like that? Like she was begging him for something? Either he was hurting her, or she was hurt and he was ignoring her. He wasn't taking care of her.

The boy twists the handle and pulls at the same time, but the door rattles. He can hear Momma getting louder, and in a panic, he bangs on the door.

She stops the hurt noises and he hears his parents saying something to one another and his father's laugh. His heart still hammers in his chest, an awful worry now that he can't hear her.

A lot of shuffling and then the door opens and he can make out Momma's form.

"Baby, what is it?" she asks.

"Momma," the boy says. "Momma, take me to bed!"

The boy doesn't trust Daddy, not right now. He'll tell Momma to sleep with him in his bed. He won't care if she kicks him a little if she gets scary dreams. He'll protect her. He won't let Daddy hurt her.

She hoists him up. He's big now, getting bigger every day, and other times Momma has said she won't be able to carry him much longer. Tonight she doesn't say anything. Instead she holds him while he holds her tight around the neck, catching a glimpse of his father laying in bed and the boy could tell he had his leg on. Daddy never wore his leg in bed. So why did he have it on?

Then Momma carries him back to his room, only the boy is so alert he doesn't get to relish in her soft strength, feeling safe and cozy. Instead he looks out for anyone who might be hurting his mother.

"One song and then you need to go to sleep," Momma says, setting him down on his bed and sitting beside him.

"You sleep with me," the boy says resolutely.

"I have to go back to Daddy," she says. "And you know I kick too much. That's why I stay with Daddy. He only has one leg to kick."

She leans and tickles him, kissing his cheek in rapid measure. He giggles but pushes her hands away, sobering quickly.

"Daddy hurt you."

Momma goes quiet. A guilty kind of quiet. He presses, "I hear him hurt you."

"Oh no, baby, Daddy wasn't hurting me," Momma says.

"You said Uncle Haymitch's bad word."

"Those were, um, special noises. Special noises just for Daddy, to let him know how much I love him."

"Why don't I get special noises?" the boy pouts. Now the worry has moved from Daddy hurting Momma to Momma excluding the boy from her love.

"You get a special song, don't you? One I only sing to you. You were hearing me sing my special song for Daddy. That's all."

"It's a bad song." The boy still doesn't trust that Daddy isn't hurting her and doesn't get why Momma can say Uncle Haymitch's bad word but he can't.

"All right little mister, I don't need any more lip from you. Now do you want your special song tonight before you go back to sleep?"

He gives a nod and Momma brushes back his hair, singing the song she'd come up with when he was a baby. And he can't help it. He does manage to fall asleep. In the morning, though, he peeks into the kitchen to spy on his parents. Daddy hugs Momma from behind as she cuts up an apple, kissing the crook of her neck and making her smile.

The boy narrows his eyes, looking for any sign of Momma being scared or distressed. It doesn't come, his parents acting as they always do. As he makes himself known at breakfast, the boy decides to keep an eye on Daddy and Momma for a little longer. Just to be safe.

[littlemarianah]

Willow is the older sister and often sees things her brother doesn't.

Rye asks uncomfortable questions, which they parents seem to hesitate to answer. He always asks for help with his homework and doesn't seem to understand why when it comes to the history of Panem his father's face seems to darken. In fact, he doesn't even notice his father's voice crack as he reads the text in the book. But Peeta never refuses to help.

The subject of War always leads to The Games. Either its beginning or its end. And the games always lead to star-crossed lovers and the arrow that felled an entire arena. And worst of all, this goes back to the bombs that rained on the capital. But Rye never seems to connect this to the scars marked on his parents' bodies.

"Don't worry, Daddy. I'll help him." she says, sitting next to her brother at study time.

"Well, I can..." Peeta tries to say.

"No, you can leave it to me. You know, I was in fourth grade just two years ago so it's all still fresh in my head."

The boy tries to protest, but his older sister's incisive look made him shrink in his seat. She can be persuasive when she wants to.

When the two are finally alone in the kitchen, with their books spread out on the table, Willow whispers to Rye. "Stop asking Dad for help about this, okay?"

"this what?"

"story of Panem."

"Why?” The boy asks innocently and the girl snorts angrily.

No, she never asked for help with these things. The history book seemed to bother her mother so much that she didn't even take it out of her backpack. She heard Peeta and Katniss whispering through the walls, tense and tearful. Willow preferred to keep everything to herself. The doubts and questions, most of them were already answered anyway. With her mother's howls in the middle of the night, with her father's nervous attacks.

Willow opens the story book, leafs through it until she finds a picture. A girl. Impenetrable gaze, braid hanging down her neck, a bow in her hands. She looks at her brother, hoping that will make him understand.

"What?" he shrugs

"It's mama, silly."

"Mama?" The boy leans over the book and looks carefully. It doesn't look like his mother, It doesn't have her kind eyes, nor her sweet smile, and there are no scars whatsoever. The way he always recognized his mother, the funny designs on her skin, marks. But he recognizes one thing , the gray eyes that he sees in the mirror. "oh, it's mama."

"Of course it is, what are you doing in your story class?"

He shrugs again but the answer is sleeping.

"They don't like to talk about it." the girl says. "If you have any questions, ask me."

"Is it about The Hunger Games?" he now whispers, because even though he is a little naive, he can feel the weight of those words.

"Rye, try to understand something." she says, using her big sister tone. "Everything is about The Hunger Games."

Rye seems to understand. Because sometimes at night, he wakes up from a cruel nightmare and runs to his mother's bed. Next summer he turns 11 and the older kids at school keep saying that's the age they take you. And he knows his parents went, and so did Uncle Haymitch.

Their mom enters the kitchen and the photo of her young is covered by Willow with a heavy math book. But Katniss has eagle eyes and the Willows know that. "What is it?" Katniss asks.

"Homework." Willow say.

Katniss takes the history book from the table and admires her photo with an indecipherable expression. "And why were you hiding it?"

The girl doesn't know how to respond.

"Willow said not to bother you with it." the boy says.

Damn mama's boy, Willow thinks to herself. Her face burns red. "That's not what I said!" Willow directs her gaze to Karniss, her mother's bright eyes making her shiver. "I just... It's just fourth-grade nonsense. So I can help... He doesn't need to... talk to you about it. I already know everything. It's just... I did not want.."

Katniss leaves the history book on the table, leans over Willow and gives her a small kiss on the forehead. The girl is silent. "The two of you are going to put on your boots and we're going to go for a walk." Katniss says.

The boy is happy to be taken away from his homework early, but Willow seems apprehensive. On that rainy spring afternoon they cross the muddy road, past the wreckage of abandoned buildings and go to the meadow. The flowerbed, normally green, is gray today, due to the rain and fog. Katniss sits with them on a fallen log. And it begins.

First she tells them about a miner. With a beautiful voice and a huge heart. A great father and a great husband. Tell them how he was buried alive. And even though they both already knew this story this time it seems more detailed and harder to hear. Then Katniss tells them about a boy with a loaf of bread and a hungry girl, tells them about a streak of bad luck, tells them about an arena of blood, tells them about poisoned berries.

Rye is wide-eyed, clutching his mother's arms.

Katniss tells them about a revolution, about a war, about a mockingjay. Then about the bodies in the meadow, about his grandparents and his uncles who were gone, about their late Aunt Prim. And this is another one of the stories that they knew very well, but to be told like this without whispered words, without secrets, without anything beyond reality. It's new. Willow then also snuggles into her mother's arms, a bit tearful. Listening to Katniss tell about a girl with black hair and blue eyes and a boy with blond hair and gray eyes.

Then they go home, humming an old song.

If you want more content about toast babies Read my fanfic about them - Deep in the Meadow

[not-feeling-the-aster]

I wonder what came to be of Snow's granddaughter. We don't know much about Snow's children, but it's highly possible that they would go into hiding or at least keep a low profile, or maybe they would be charged for some crimes (again, there isn't enough information about them). But what about the girl?

I like the idea of Tigris somehow reaching out after the revolution, feeling protective of her. She would help her understand more about their family's past and ensure she was better than them. And after that, who knows? Maybe she moves to one of the Districts (if they still exist as we have known them) and lives far away from the Snow legacy.

.

.

.

And then I got carried away and started to imagine a story about Katniss' daughter and Snow's great-granddaughter meeting each other as teens/young adults. Because drama.

[trobeds]

i know the hunger games isnt about romance i know it isnt a love story but. theres just something so beautiful in the way peeta is the personification of what it means to heal and he /is/ the dandelion and the bread and the hope that things can be better even if they wont be fixed. even if the nightmares dont stop he will still hold her. wake her up and tell her shes alive. shes safe. and when its over and done and theres no more saving or protecting or trying their absolute hardest to die if it means keeping the other alive, the horrors dont stop. but katniss will still find that comfort in peetas arms.

[waywardangel-wilds]

Katniss: not going to the doctor for an ultrasound.

Peeta, on a random Tuesday: Did I ever tell you twins run in my family?

[cringengl]

Realistically speaking, in a Hunger Games Stranger Things au, Jonathan Byers would be Katniss Everdeen.

[charlunday]

it's okay to be sad. 💛