#mitch abernathy

[hungergameshyperfixation]

Absolutely cursed idea: Haymitch being called ‘Mitch’ by his peers or family.

[gutfaced]

tonight's thoughts are consistent of catwhisperer haymitch. the seam strays are ON HIS ass and demand food immediately!!!!!!! (he very much obliges) (kat & peeta are privy to an extremely loving side of him as soon as a cat even steps into his VICINITY)

[thehungergamesmemes]

*At a meeting about the rebelion*

Haymitch: I bet you're all wondering why i've called you here

Chaff: At his point 'mitch we just sort of go with it

[babiedemon]

MISERABLE MAN . . . haymitch abernathy / reader

genre . . . fluff, post-war

warnings . . . age gap, mentions of war, swearing, sexual themes

inspired by miserable man — david kushner

haymitch was a drunk. he was a miserable old man with a bad temper and a lifetime worth of pent up trauma. even with the newfound peace, the end of the rebellion, the birth of a fair nation. you knew no matter the time, the level of freedom, he’d forever be a miserable old man.

you mulled over this as you approached his home, a looming tower of a house in the shambles of district twelve. you’d taken the train there, what was once a capitol luxury now a simple means of transportation. the gravel of the deserted district crunched beneath your designer boots, ricocheting off empty buildings of the desecrated town.

there was no response to the heavy knock you left on his door, or one of the side windows, or the back door. you’d almost given up hope, prepared to break the door off the hinges, muttering angry words to yourself as you rounded the side of the house, when you caught sight of a moving figure in the distance. you couldn’t mistake that mop of black hair for anything else in the world, the long hair of the former face of rebellion.

“hey, katniss!” you called over the wind rushing in the space between you. she brought her hand up to wave, a pair of squirrels dangling from her fingers, a slight smile on her softened face.

“hey, eagle eye!” she shouted in response, an echoing reminisce of your rebel nickname. “what brings you to twelve?” she was closer now, close enough for you to pinpoint where her eyes sat over her nose, the once hardened stone color softened to a plush storm cloud. she stopped a few feet before you, eyes giving you a onceover.

“here to see the drunk. any idea if he’s home?” you inquired, lifting your eyebrows. katniss tilted her head to the side, squinted against the piercing rays of the setting sun.

“knowing haymitch, he’s probably drunk off his ass right about now. he usually leaves a window cracked in the front if you wanna try getting in that way,” she suggested, switching the tails of the squirrels from one hand to the other in favor of scratching her eyebrow.

“thanks a bunch, kat. i’ll be sure to pay you a visit sometime before the week ends. lord knows i’ll have my hands full with mitch,” you hummed, slowly backing away as you spoke. she bid her silent goodbye the same way she’d bid her welcome, lifting a single hand as she parted ways toward her towering home.

you found the crack in the window almost as soon as you’d reached the top of haymitch’s stairs and pried it open, the metal frame squealing in protest as you forced the pane of glass wide enough for your body to fit through.

getting in was much harder, your body falling on the floor and taking out half the items displayed crudely on his windowsill. you were certain that you’d gained at least a few bruises from the tumble it took for you to reach the hardwood floor, a grimace on your face as you inspected your exposed, aching elbows.

“what the hell are you doing here?” haymitch sighed, his voice carrying over to the foyer from his place on the living room sofa. you couldn’t see him, and you doubted he could see you, but you guaranteed from your loud entrance he could deduce it wasn’t his usual visitor.

“is that how you greet all of your long distance girlfriends?” you asked dryly, pushing yourself up from the floor with a few grunts. you rounded the foyer into the living room, spotting haymitch’s salt and pepper curls from the entryway.

“‘s how i greet everyone, sweetheart. get used to it,” he muttered, making quick work of pouring himself another glass of liquor. his hands trembled violently, likely due to the withdrawal contorting his face, liquor splashing over the edge of his glass and pooling on the mahogany coffee table. you sighed as you seated yourself beside him, took the bottle from his hands, and shot him an unimpressed look out of the corner of your eye.

“how many have you had?” you asked, studying the hazy sheen over his stormy eyes. he tutted, lazily rolling his eyes, his body sinking into the cushions.

“only three today. woke up about six hours ago, so i’d say that’s pretty tame,” he remarked. you suppressed the agitated sigh and tipped the bottle, pouring a hefty amount of whiskey into his chosen cup.

“i thought for sure when you didn’t answer the door you were passed out in your own piss and vomit again,” you murmured, voice softened as you regarded him. he was aging, his stubble shining with a number of grey strands, the curls atop his head beginning to gain more of his eye color with every visit. he’d gained back a bit of weight in his cheeks and stomach since you’d last seen him, his face and gut now rounded out a bit more.

“i figured if it was important, whoever it was would find their way in,” he spoke, voice gruff, a pause interrupting his sentence. “i was right about both. it was important, and you did find your way. besides, i’ll have you know i happen to have cut back on my substance abuse, thank you.”

“you know i’ll always find a way to come pester you,” you mused, reclining next to him. you felt a bit of pride swelling in your chest, a smile growing on your lips as you processed his minor recovery from years of raging alcoholism. haymitch’s arm slid easily over your shoulders, an almost inaudible chuckle leaving his lips, the rim of his glass snuffing it at the source.

“you definitely are a pest,” he hummed, tongue lapping up the remnants of whiskey on his lips. “what brings you here anyways?”

“i was hoping we could spend some time together. i’ve missed you,” you spoke softly, your cheeks heating up with your admission. haymitch hummed, his nose brushing the top of your head, the smell of alcohol wafting off of him. you’d come to enjoy the bitter scent, associating it with the man you’d fallen for over the course of your teens and now early twenties.

“missed you too, doll face,” he muttered, letting his head loll against the back of the sofa. his fingertips, ever as tremorous, came to scratch at the itchy stubble spotting his chin. “got some geese around back if you wanna check ‘em out.”

“when the hell did you get geese?” you inquired, face lifted in amusement as your eyes traveled haymitch’s exposed windpipe. the skin there was red, flushed from his consistent substance abuse, and a few scratches laid about from his incessant scratching. your fingers reached to trace the raised lines, smoothing them over with your thumb.

“not that long ago. decided i needed a hobby. shit’s boring around here,” he grumbled, watching you curiously. he realized the source of your focus after a few seconds, clearing his throat embarrassedly. “my hands shake too much to shave now. can’t cut my hair either.” he gestured to the top of his head, where his curls fell unkempt to his chin. you tilted your head to the side, running your fingers through the knotted ends of his dark locks, a smile on your lips.

“i could always trim you up, mitch,” you muttered, picturing different cuts and styles framing his face. if only one thing benefited you from your days as a capitol stylist, it was the cosmetic knowledge. you got free cuts, free colors, free hemming. “i think you’d look pretty good with a shag. your curls would suit it nicely.”

“do whatever gets it out of my goddamned eyes,” he gruffed, grumpy as ever, prompting you to begin your search for his razors and scissors. for a reason you couldn’t place, you’d begun cleaning as you searched as well. you’d washed his clothes, polished the kitchen, dusted the paintings and tables, all whilst he lingered in every doorway with a bottle and glass in hand, eyes watching you with burning intensity.

“you look good cleaning,” he remarked, the devious smirk on his lips hardly hidden by his whiskey glass. he slunk towards you, footsteps slow and wobbly against the hardwood floor.

“you’re only saying that because i’m bent over scrubbing your toilet,” you muttered, standing straight up upon feeling his hips meet yours. he looped an arm around your middle, your heart beating out of your chest as you turned your face to let your gazes meet. his eyes, grey and clouded, held a heady desire you hadn’t seen in months. his body pushed yours partially forward as he leaned, settling his drink on the toilet lid in favor of taking full hold of both your hip bones.

you gulped, face red as you turned in his loose grasp, letting him back you until your hips met the bathroom counter. his hand settled beneath your chin, guiding your head up until your eyes settled back on his, his other palm settling on the marble beside your blushing body. his gaze was honed in on your parted lips, eyebrows furrowed and concentration painting his flushed face.

“haven’t seen you in ages,” he mumbled, voice breathy and depraved as a slight smirk quirked the corner of his lips. you let out a shaky laugh, looping your arms around his neck, toying with the greying curls jutting from the nape of his neck.

“i’m starting to think you missed me more than you let on,” you breathed, pupils dancing over the space between his eyes and mouth. his fingers slid, igniting a fire beneath your skin, thumb caressing your jaw and palm cupping the side of your neck. he let out a soft chuckle, leaning in just barely close enough for his chapped lips to brush the gloss from yours.

“that is the understatement of the century.” his eyes fluttered shut as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your buzzing lips, pulling away much too soon for your eager impatience. you sighed, breath fanning over his scruffy face, eyes squeezing shut as the smell of his musky body soap twisted with the stench of his preferred beverage.

“i’m supposed to be cutting your hair.” you chuckled airily, prying your eyes open to meet his lusted stare. he took a moment to process, no doubt distracted by the touch of your fingers to his exposed collarbone.

“you’ll have to wet my hair, right?” as he spoke, voice husky and eyes dropping to your body, he made agonizingly slow work of undoing the top few buttons of your dress shirt. you followed his train of thought, chest heaving against his fingers, eyes darting to the shower standing to your right.

“i like the way your pretty little head works.” you gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to your level, lips taking his in a short lived, rough kiss. “strip, then.”

“you don’t have to tell me twice, sweetheart.”

you couldn’t help the boisterous laughter tumbling from your chest.

[xetlynn]

Hey! So I started following you today (I love THG and JJK) and I was wondering if I could request a smutty fic with Haymitch (sub) and the reader (dom!afab but if possible, could reader be transmasculine or at least gender neutral?) calls him a good boy. Maybe so subby behavior from Haymitch as well? Idk the full rules so if this is against it, please dm me

Thanks in advance! ^v^

the hunger games imagines- haymitch abernathy

a tease

[thg] [main page]

content warning: smut

Prompt: tying up your fiancé and just wanting to hear him. (Short, more of a blurb)

Containing: bondage, handjob, oral m receiving.

No pronoun usage.

“This is humiliating, hun.” Haymitch grunts, throwing his head back against the wooden kitchen chair as you smirk. “You can’t back out now…” You purr in his ear, double checking that the ropes were snug and secure against your fiance’s wrists behind his back. 

Then doing the same to the ones around his ankles. Proudly you stand back up. “So pretty like this, Mitch.” You lick your lips, ecstatic at the sight before you. A sight only you got the pleasure of witnessing. He frowns up at you. “Oh, c’mon love don’t look at me like that.” You snicker, your hand going to the back of his head, tugging a handful of hair. 

He lets out a small noise of gratification. “Wanna hear you, remember that.” You give another small yank. Earning another moan from his mouth, louder this time. 

With your empty hand you wrap around his member that laid against his torso, begging to be touched. You look down at it, mouth watering instantly. Your thumb swipes over the start of his slit that was oozing precum. You lather it around his tip he huffs at the feeling. “[Name], please.” He whines only to be shushed in response. 

If you had shushed him in any other instance he would be livid but right now he was complying. Twisting his wrists against the synthetic cords. Already annoyed but secretly, even secret to himself, he enjoys this. 

His eyes observe every movement you make as you begin to finally pump his cock in your fist. Starting off slow and really focusing on his mushroom tip. His mouth gapes, small huffs exiting from him. You felt your own arousal and you were just getting started with him. 

Forcing him into a rough kiss, shoving your tongue in his mouth. Still keeping a grip on his long dirty-blond hair. It was a battle between both of your mouths, and it was fretful for Haymitch, ultimately losing. 

You retreat from him, crouching down in between his spread out legs. Staring up at him. “Be a good boy, mmkay? Let out all your noises.” You remind him once again and he nods his head. You raise a brow. “Y-yes. I will, please just touch me.” His hips thrust upward and you shove him back down. “Not off to a good start~” You tut, wagging a finger. 

He groans, “sorry, sorry.” He puffs, biting down on his bottom lip as you touch him once again. 

You kitten licks his tip a few times, your phalanges tight around his base. He whimpers out, having to control himself from squirming around. You then flatten your tongue on his dick, licking up and down teasingly. Watching his expressions from down there. His eyebrows furrowing then un-furrowing repetitively. 

You dribble out spit through your lips, kissing it upon his member before using that to start jacking him off at a fast pace. Haymitch begins to mewl loudly, his thighs jerking at the stimulation. “Good boy… jus’ wanna know how good I’m making you feel.” You encourage him, and he looks down at you. “Feels’ ‘s good, ‘s good!” He cries. 

“Mhm, I’m sure it does.” You jeer at him. 

You lower your mouth on his dick, hollowing out your cheeks as you start to suck him. His moans and yowls only grow louder. “Fff-uck!” He squeezes his eyes shut, the sensation of your tongue swirling and your throat inviting him in. 

You bring your hand to his balls, beginning to knead them gently. “Hah- h-hun! Too much!” His hips trying to get away from you. Struggling against the ropes that keep him in place. Your other hand presses against his thigh and his lower stomach. A warning to not do it again. 

“M gonna cum, can I cum?” I gotta cum?” He sobs, thrashing his head around dramatically. You pull back away from him, still kneading his balls. But nonetheless edging him. “Already?” You tease him. “Have I been gone for that long, pretty?” You ask him and he nods his head. “Too long.” He gazes down at you with puppy-dog eyes. Silently pleading for you to put your mouth back on his dick. 

“Well, be a good boy and release for me.” You order, not taking another second before you sheath him back down your throat. “Mhm, c-close!” He tests your kindness by thrusting his hips up. This time surprisingly you allow him. Gagging a little loudly by the movement though. “Sorry, sorry!” He ruts himself back onto the chair. 

“Cumming, doll. ‘M cumming!” His legs shake at his words, you slurp his cock, keeping the same fast and aggressive pace, bobbing your head up and down. 

Only fully taking him when you start to feel those velvety ropes spurt into your mouth. His tip hits the back of your throat. Obligating you to swallow all of it. “Hah- h-holy shit! Your throat is unlike… anything.” His pelvis rolls back and forth. 

You sip up all of him before withdrawing from him. His now flaccid dick departing from your magical muzzle with a pop. “Such a good boy…” You hum. 

[kilowogcore]

Just super-cool Jim Gordon in his trenchcoat and speedo, walking down the Gotham beach. He's so cool he doesn't even need to fight crime, because cops don't.

(Art sampled from "Batman: The Brave and the Bold" Vol. 2 #2 by Tom King, Mitch Gerads, Clayton Cowles, Ben Abernathy, Chris Rosa, and Dave Wielgosz. Edits: Dialogue)

[justanoasisimagines]

Mixed Preference - Their Love Language

This Preference contains; Eddie Brock, Dante Reyes, Finn Abernathy, Mad Sweeney, Andy Barber, Aegon II Targaryen, Loyd Hansen, Cedric Diggory, Shane Walsh, Deckard Shaw, Spencer Reid, Mitch Morgan, Phillip "The Governor" Blake, Long John Silver, Ragnar Lothbrok

Requests are open! Credit to @cafekitsune for the divider and the banner!

Eddie Brock; Eddie's love language gift giving. He doesn't always know how to express his feelings towards you. Every time he tries he turns into a stuttering mess. Gift-giving is logical for Eddie he can bring you a bunch of flowers or a box of chocolates. Even Venom begins to get involved, however, that's somewhat questionable.

Dante Reyes; Dante's love language is physical touch. He can shower you with whatever your heart desires, however, he'd much rather show you. He loves the reaction you give him whenever he goes to kiss you or when he surprises you with a bear hug. If Dante is being honest, he enjoys physical touch. He welcomes you to instigate physical touch. Dante is terrifying to everyone else and the exception is you.

Finn Abernathy; Finn's love language is Quality Time. He wants to make time for you. He wants to show you that he's willing to take time out of his schedule so he can take you on dates or plan cozy nights. He can be there for you whenever you need support for a doctor's appointment or a family event. This is his preferred way to show you he's serious about you.

Mad Sweeney; Mad Sweeney's love Language is physical touch. He's not always great with communication and he's always worried about buying you the wrong thing. However, physical touch is the one way Sweeney can communicate his feelings towards you. He enjoys it too. He loves nothing more than to pull you in for a kiss and show everyone who you belong to.

Andy Barber; Andy Barber's love language is Acts of Service. Sometimes you two can be like ships in the night, so Andy takes the time to do things for you. He will do the chore you haven't got round to or go to the grocery shop if he knows you are busy. He'll run you a bath after a long day. He'll write you a note telling you to have a good day if you start at different times.

Aegon II Targaryen; Aegon's love language is physical touch. Aegon hasn't been raised to know how to express his love healthily. Physical touch is a way Aegon knows how and even then you still have to help him. He doesn't know what a delicate touch is, but he'll shower you with physical affection. Kisses and hugs and warm embraces.

Loyd Hansen; Loyd's love language is gift-giving. He can give you whatever your heart desires, so why wouldn't he? You don't have to want for anything. Besides he knows he's not always around and he's not typically the most affectionate person. He can, however, buy you whatever you want. No price tag is too large, he'll buy it for you. He enjoys your reactions whenever he surprises you with an unexpected gift.

Cedric Diggory; Cedric's love language is terms of endearment. He loves using different terms of endearment to witness your reaction. Sometimes he comes out with completely outrageous ones just to make you laugh. Cedric is the only one who's allowed to call you a term of endearment because that's his privilege as your boyfriend.

Shane Walsh; Shane's love language is physical touch. He likes having his hands on you. Walking by and kissing you or grabbing your ass. He likes showing you how he feels because Shane feels obsessively about his feelings towards you. He wants to shower you in physical touch whenever he can. It's also a firm warning to remind everyone you belong to him. Anyone who wants to try and change that can deal with him.

Deckard Shaw; Deckard's love language is gift-giving. He loves buying you a bunch of flowers whenever he's been away from you or buying you a new car. He thinks it's precious whenever you protest about something he's done because you know he's going to do it again. He's always going to provide for you no matter what. If you're someone who doesn't ask for anything, he'll pay close attention to what you're saying so he makes the right purchase. Deckard likes to spoil you so he's going to.

Spencer Reid; Spencer's love language is quality time. He could buy you gifts and give you affection, however, Spencer prefers to give you his time. He prefers to show you by spending quality time. By reading together grabbing dinner or watching a documentary together. Spencer can be away for long periods on cases, but when he returns home it's time for you two.

Mitch Morgan; Mitch's love language is quality time. He's not always the easiest person around and words often fail him. However, he likes being in your presence while you go about your days, You don't have to be partaking in the same activity, but he just likes knowing you're close. You can be watching TV and he will settle down and read. Mitch's words often fail him but his actions speak louder.

Phillip "The Governor" Blake Philip's love language would be acts of service. He's changed drastically since the world turned upside down. He becomes cold and standoffish, cruel and calculated. His feelings for you haven't changed. This is why his love language is quality time because making time for you despite his busy schedule. For example, having breakfast together or seeing you between meetings.

John Silver; John's love language is terms of endearment. He loves calling you tender words and watching your gaze soften. John will attempt to use these tender words to get himself out of tumultuous situations. It's usually "love" or "my heart" as he attempts to get himself out of trouble. He adores how conflicted you become as you attempt to stay mad at him.

Ragnar Lothbrok; Ragnar's love language is physical touch. He's not always articulate with words. He doesn't know what you need. He does however know how to express his feelings physically. He can pour his feelings towards you through his actions. It's like a communication language only you two understand.

[zpl1nt3r3d-b0n3-zhardz]

Hihi, I was wondering if I could get some names that fit with Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy from THG (books + movies). They can be neu/fem or neu/masc, respectively, and any pronouns or last names if you can think of any. Thank you so much!!! Have a lovely day ^^

Haymitch:

First Names:

Hayzel

Holly

Henry

Harvy

Harvard

Holden

Holten

Oswin

Oswald

Vincent

Vince

Harald

Jorden

Haylen

Hyler

Mitch

Mitchell

Marcus

Mitchie

Last names:

Evander

Alathy

Lochlear

Myoore

Stanford

Matias

Johnson

Morrison

Lashner

Hyzel

Myers

Levine

Fitzgerald

Dymian

Abbott

Axeford

Aylstein

Dolsore

Pronouns:

Xe/xem/xeirs

Scot/scotch/scotchs

Booze/booze/boozes

Alc/alch/alchs

Shy/shyl/shyls

Chy/chys/chys

Chx/chxs/chxs

Hx/hxm/hxs

Hz/hzm/hzs

H#/h#m/h#s

H3/h1m/h1s

Shx/hxr/hxrs

Thzy/thzm/thzirs/thezrs

Qui/quip/quips

Smoke/smokes/smokes

🥃/🥃/🥃s

⚙️/⚙️/⚙️s

🚬/🚬/🚬s

⚰️/⚰️/⚰️s

Effie:

First names:

Percival

Sylvia

Emery

Ezri

Monroe

Myron

Cosette

Hattie

Elsie

Evie

Ettie

Lottie

Elowe

Elris

Era

Eine

Ephyr

Last names:

bibelot

Hall

Holt

bibelot

Hysen

Trinity

Tractus

Spalzi

Pronouns:

Silly/sillys

Powder/powders

Make/ups

Glam/glams

Galore/galores

Bubbly/bubbly/bubblys

Cheer/cheer/cheers

Glam/glam/glams

Spark/sparkle/sparkles

Glit/glitter/glitters

Shee/heer/heers

Shy/shyr/shyrs

Sh♡/h♡r/h♡rs

Hy/hym/hyms

It/it/its

Ix/ix/ixs

Theey/theem/theems

Sy/syl/syls

Vi/vix/vixs

Vixa/vixa/vixas

💋/💋/💋s

🌹/🌹/🌹s

⚘️/⚘️/⚘️s

🌸/🌸/🌸s

✨️/✨️/✨️s

💄/💄/💄s

This was absolutely gleeful to do. I personally Thoroughly enjoyed doing this. I would absolutely adore to know if you liked any of this.

[gudvina]

The things I do to keep you near.

Ship: Effie Trinket/Haymitch Abernathy

Fandom: Hunger Games

Chapter 9: I need you to know (not too much)

Can be read on AO3. <3

74th Hunger Games, part seven.

He should have known Gloria would come back. She left just after he sent Katniss an ointment for her burns, parting with recommendations that they rest a little, not to work themselves too hard. He’d thought she’d be like the occasional sponsors, for a fleeting moment. The ones that came in, signed their deals and left.

But there was nothing occasional about Gloria.

Just a few hours after midnight Haymitch and Effie came down to the Sponsors’ Lounge, and were surprised to find Gloria already there. She was sitting by Chaff’s stand, between him and Faustina, Eleven’s escort. The lounge was almost empty, and the Victor’s voice bellowed across the room, inviting them to their stand.

The table was already set for breakfast, and two added seats were already waiting for them. It was suspiciously convenient, and his friend’s unusually cordial smile didn’t help his scepticism. He knew what this was all about. He’d feared this would happen the moment Katniss spotted Rue clinging to the branches of that damn tree.

An alliance. He’d made a few in the first years of his mentorship, before giving up altogether. He’d sworn he’d never make one again.

“Up, up, up, ‘Mitch!” Chaff teased, mocking Effie lightly, “How did you sleep?”

“Ha, ha, how funny” Effie rolled her eyes and took a bite of a pastry. She was trying to fight the remnants of sleep, and he knew that it would probably take another strong cup of coffee to fully wake her up. It was surprising that, despite the lack of sleep, her makeup was still flawless.

“Come on, Effs, you know Chaff”, Faustina smiled. She was sipping on some pink coloured juice, reclining on the sofa. He didn’t know how close Effie was with the other escorts, but he’d heard enough about Faustina from both her and his friend. Incredibly tone deaf, but she was determined to get a winner and that meant that she tried her absolute best every year. The only thing that differentiated her from Effie was the lack of grief after losing.

“Yeah, she knows me. How’s boyfriend, by the way?”.

Effie froze beside him, and Haymitch glared at his friend. He knew that it came from a place of caring, but Chaff didn’t have the right to question her about Crane.

“Crane is fine where he’s at”, Haymitch grumbled.

“Good, now that we’ve asked about friends and family, Chaff, why don’t you begin with the serious subject?”.

Chaff took Gloria’s suggestion, and started to talk about the benefits of an alliance. It would help both their tributes when receiving a gift, and if anything happened to one of them the funds for one would go directly to the other’s mentor. It wasn’t the worst he’d ever had to sign, and after all Chaff was his friend. His tributes this year weren’t the worst, but they’d been outshined by his girl, so it was only fair.

“You know what I feel about alliances, but I will accept. Only this once”.

“I knew I could count on you. So, Effie, are you ready to team up with Faustina?”.

“Chaff, I’ve known Effie from the Academy. We’re always ready to team up!”, Faustina quipped in, winking at Effie, “When we were sixteen, we had a modelling exam and we passed with flying colours! Seneca was quite taken with the result”. Haymitch frowned and looked at Effie, confused by what he’d just heard. A modelling exam? What the fuck was that?

“Faustina, I’d rather not discuss our modelling exams”.

“Oh, come on! It was so fun. Well, maybe we were a little young for certain poses, they were a little risqué, but Mr Sewned loved the pictures. I think Seneca still has some of them, maybe I should ask”.

“We were sixteen, Tina”.

“Since when have you become such a prude? You don’t want to talk about our exams and you don’t sleep with sponsors anymore, not even with Seneca. I’m starting to think your mother has rubbed off on you”.

“And I’m starting to think this conversation is over, darling. Whatever Effie does is none of your business”. Gloria redirected the conversation towards the strategies for their incoming interviews.

Every year, at the start of the games, mentors and escorts were supposed to give out interviews. It was during these interviews that alliances were laid out. Effie listened to Gloria’s tips, taking notes on her little notebook. Gloria’s whole strategy had always been to charm the audience, making it fall at its feet, and as he listened to her he understood that Effie had, during her training, made hers the woman’s lessons.

“Haymitch and Chaff, instead, should be a little more… affable than usual. I will explain later, but Chaff, you know I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t absolutely necessary”.

“I know, Gloria. Remember I swore to my old man I’d listen to you, so you don’t have to worry about me. Look at Haymitch, instead. He’s the one who’s hell bent into upsetting people. Poor Trinket has almost had a heart attack once or twice”.

“Haymitch can behave when he wants to, so he’s not a problem”.

“When he wants to, yeah”.

“I’m right here, y’know that, right?”.

Effie and Chaff smirked, but then turned their attention back to Gloria.

“Effie, I need you to engage audience and sponsors a little more. We need your savoir-faire more than ever, so you can lead the conversation and Faustina can also have a little of the spotlight. It’s not going to be easy, but you can do it”.

“What do you mean with engaging the sponsors?”, Haymitch asked.

“The usual, a little harmless flirting here and there. Nothing I haven’t done myself”.

“Those freaks are going to want to follow up on it”.

“Effie will know how to deal with it. I’m not asking her to sleep with them, Haymitch. I’m asking her to play pretend”.

It made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t say anything without mentioning their marriage, so he just clenched his jaw and ignored Effie squeezing his hand under the table. The conversation continued for another half hour, and dawn was still one hour away. Breakfast ended in a high note for everyone but him, and they all parted to prepare their stands.

Effie was arranging the documents, unusually silent. She probably sensed his irritation.

“Modelling exams? What the fuck was that about?”, he asked, lighting up the mood a little.

“Yes, they were mandatory at the Academy. They gave us a prompt and we used to spin a shooting around it”.

“So, you were sixteen doing strip teases for pictures that would be sent to a fifty-year-old man?”

“You make it sound so bad, but Mr Sewned was a professional, and it wasn’t strip teases. I admit we were a little precocious, but they were harmless compared to those awful magazines you and Chaff like to go through”. She wrinkled her nose, and he smirked. He’d never actually looked at Chaff’s zines more than once, as they never did anything for him, but Effie seemed to be of the impression that he was doing who knows what with them, and he liked to know he wasn’t the only jealous one there.

At least on that, their marriage was balanced.

“D’you think Crane still has those pictures?”.

“No, I don’t. And if he does… Panem! That would be awfully weird, wouldn’t it?”, she put on her escort mask as a sponsor walked in front of them, aiming for the breakfast buffet already laid out at the centre of the room.

“More than that. Anyways, do not be too friendly with those sponsors”.

“You can’t seriously think I would”, she turned toward him, a flash of hurt in her eyes, “I also agreed to our arrangement”.

“I’m don’t think, sweetheart. I’m… can I be honest? I will be honest. I don’t like the idea. I understand we need to do this, and that it’s your part of the deal, but I hate it. I hate to think of the ideas those maniacs will get. If any of them try anything, you come to me. Please”.

His speech showed more vulnerability than he would have liked, but he needed her to know. That he wouldn’t mindlessly pimp her out, that he didn’t like the idea of those man touching her. He couldn’t tell her she was his wife, but he could tell her that.

With the excuse of having to arrange the pillows behind him she leaned closer to him and, taking advantage of the backrest shielding her, she whispered.

“I am yours. Always and all ways”.

The reminder of their night after the training scores made him groan, as he felt his cock twitch and his hand tingle to touch her skin. He’d have to wait, though. And if her words had brightened his mood, he tried not to let it show too much.

***

Effie’s hands shook as she laid out Haymitch’s outfit on the bed. It was a dark navy suit she’d bought him months ago on a whim, before reaping season had even started. She’d imagined him wearing it, moving in it, and concluded, right after the purchase, that it had been a smart investment.

Unfortunately, the long-awaited moment felt tainted now.

Katniss throwing the tracker jackers’ nest onto the other tributes resulted in Peeta sacrificing for the girl once more, and coming out of it badly injured. The girl wasn’t in the best shape either.  Fortunately, Rue, who watched the whole thing hidden from the ground, took over and got her to safety.

She’d tried to reason with Haymitch, but there was no way of convincing him to send something to Peeta. Throwing things hadn’t worked, and he’d been firmer than the previous days. Given that the boy was in hiding there was no reason to help him out, unless he was dying. Haymitch always had the last word, and she could only hope to convince him sometime later.

The sound of the shower stopped. He came out of the bathroom with just a towel covering him from the waist down. Her mouth went dry. Droplets of water slid down his torso, and she stared for a second too long before returning- or trying to- her attention to the suit.

“Maybe Faustina is right, maybe you are becoming too prudish”, he sneaked up behind her, pressing her back to his chest. She felt warmth pool below her stomach, and, despite herself, she relaxed against him.

“How infuriating, coming from you!”.

“We do have a little time”, he smirked against her nape. He wasn’t wrong, but he’d just showered. She didn’t want to lose time with another one.

“After the interviews”, she whispered, but pressed her backside to his crotch. His groan didn’t help her temptation, nor did his hands when they settled on her waist. God, she hated being so weak, but she wanted him. Badly.

“You’re giving me mixed signals here, sweetheart”.

When she bent over to slide down her panties, she hoped her message was loud and clear. She held onto the mattress and braced herself for him. His hands held onto her waist and slid inside of her, setting a rather slow pace to prolong the moment. She rewarded him with a soft moan.

When he was inside her, his hardness against her most sensitive spots, she felt full. Full of him, full of pride for being the reason for his arousal. It was amongst the few things she was sure of. She had a vague suspicion that he’d come to consider her a little, at least enough for their affair and work relationship to continue, but his feelings were an incognita she didn’t want to find.

Feeling her distraction he increased his pace, and she couldn’t think about anything but him and his hands travelling all over her body. When they were both spent, his hand gripped her jaw to turn her around. He kissed her with abandon, and she reciprocated. If her kisses tasted a little too much like love, she hoped he wouldn’t tell.

“How about we take your shower together?”

“Just showering, Haymitch! No improper behaviour allowed; I have a schedule to follow. Unlike you, I need to visit the prep team, and it wouldn’t do to keep Octavia, Venia and Flavius waiting”.

He snorted, pulling himself out of her. It reminded her of the first time they’d had sex without a condom, too taken by the moment to realize until they were done. Thankfully, she’d been on the drips since she was twelve. She’d started using them as a hormone stabilizer, but continued because of their contraceptive properties. He’d told her she’d taken ten years of his life with that stunt.

“Let’s go, sweetheart”.

Uncharacteristically, he listened to her this time. He touched her here and her, relishing in the softness of her skin, but otherwise kept his hands- and nether regions- to himself. When they were done he stayed in the room to dress and prepare, while she walked to the prep team's work area, undergoing the usual routine. It relaxed her, allowing her not to think for a little while.

When they were done with her she was dressed in a dark red dress that reached her mid-thighs, sported a daring decolletage, and came with a pair of matching gloves. Her wig was light blonde, almost white, and contrasted heavily with the dress and her makeup.

Cinna and Portia were aiming to bring out her sensuality, and in that dress, it wasn’t too hard to embody. She looked beautiful, tempting, like a red apple dangling from the branch of a tree. But she didn’t care about the sponsors or the audience’s opinions, no. Flattery, after some time, faded. Haymitch’s desire for her, on the other hand, lingered for longer.

When she left the prep team she took the elevator, meeting Haymitch, Chaff and Faustina backstage at Ceasar’s television studio. She was wearing a forest green dress that was dotted with real thistles. Her opposite, she looked quite innocent. Exactly what they were looking for.

She complimented her with a wink, before turning her attention to Haymitch. His eyes widened as he took in her attire, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. She walked to stand by his side and heard Chaff whistle.

“Girl, you’re breaking hearts tonight. Sure you don’t want to switch districts, huh?”.

“Hey!”, Faustina protested playfully, “Finnick has been waiting for years, get in line!”

“There is no line, stop being assholes and leave my w- escort alone”.

He tripped on his words a little, and, without taking notice of what he was saying, she basked in the knowledge that she’d managed to render him speechless. They lined up with the other mentors and escorts, watching on a small screen as Ceasar started the show by introducing himself and a few of the Gamemakers. Soon, he called for the mentors and the escorts. The audience roared, calling out to them.

[mollywog]

For WIP Wednesday, I have to ask about When the Stars Align 😊 I'm loving it and I know it started as a drabble here, but do you have plans on how long you think it will be or are you just seeing where it goes? Any future snippets or things you can share?

Hey!!! Thank you for the ask!!

It’s sort of weird because I got hooked on the idea and had planned it as a two shot (two scenes that haven’t happened yet) but realized the scenes I wanted to write would require more context than could be neatly crammed into a two shot, so I just started writing…

I’m really trying to use this as an exercise in writing for myself. Allowing it to not go through my usual amount of scrutiny, not overthink, not worrying about telling vs showing, not needing to be historically accurate, and focusing on only the parts I want write.

Anyways - here’s a bit of background before Katniss drags Peeta to Abernathy house in the next chapter:

I mentioned that the Everdeen Estate was entailed and went to a distant Cousin - that was Gale. When Haymitch found them and took the Everdeen girls under his care, he offered to help advise Gale in managing his estate (he’s only 14 at this point) and along the way ends up marrying Hazelle. They have twins - Mitch (the youngest) ensures the title and estate stay within the family.

The family looks something like this by chapter 4 (If I did my math correctly):

Gale (24) & Madge Hawthorne

Katniss Everdeen Mellark, Countess of Bakerston (22)

Primrose Everdeen (18)

Rory Hawthorne (17)

Vick Hawthorne (16)

Posy Hawthorne (10)

Laurel & Hay(mitch) Abernathy (8)

Katniss loves them all, but has run her own home for the past four years and appreciates the independence (and quiet!)

[hungergameshyperfixation]

How would you describe Haymitch Abernathy?

(Specifically personality wise, but appearance-related descriptors welcome also!)

Comments and reblogs encouraged!

[gutfaced]

HAYMITCH ABERNATHY HEADCANONS .

a lot of people (fanon wise) seem to forget that he's stupidly rich. i think there's been a time or two where he's splurged on an antique or a limited edition of something (e.g, special chess set)

claims to be godless, but keeps his foot in the door as an agnostic.

commonly wins all board games & any card games, too. just really good with that sort of thing.

the upstairs hallway of his home has picture frames of his family, but nobody minus him knows this because he doesn't allow anyone in. refuses to open about them if anyone has seen these prior.

haymitch to me at least seems like he might've always wanted children. imagined a hypothetical living where it was safe and fell short of all of the requirements to father due to the grief and isolation. he would've wanted a daughter or two, af least.

used to be really involved in the sports related stuff at school. always was a good runner and did enjoy things like benchball.

before he initially met maysilee, he knew her sister madeleine (hc name/mrs. undersee) from frequenting the sweet shop they owned when he had saved up a decent amount of allowance. this connection helped them stay in touch after the 50th and grieve maysilee in their own ways together.

broke his house phone after being paranoid that someone was listening in during a withdrawal episode. has also installed security cameras outside his porch in concern for robberies/someone keeping an eye on him.

the alcohol leaves him a bad physical state more often than not, but he's stronger than most would assume + can play up his weakness if needed to appear a certain way to others. a lot of pretending within that.

if he could play an instrument, it'd probably be a harmonica or something. can he sing? shrugs.

his main nicknames are ‘h’ (from chaff,) or mitch, (which he despises.) for a short while, he went by nathe as a teenager.

his middle name is ‘lee’ after the meaning ‘shelter,’ which reminded me of his traits as an older role model for his mentees (e.g katniss and peeta) and a protector of the younger victors in general.

still sleeps with the lights on despite being 40. part trauma/ptsd, part comfort and the idea of light.

[ulkaralakbarova]

Working-class waitress Slim thought she was entering a life of domestic bliss when she married Mitch, the man of her dreams. After the arrival of their first child, her picture perfect life is shattered when she discovers Mitch’s hidden possessive dark side, a controlling and abusive alter ego that can turn trust, love and tranquility into terror. Terrified for her child’s safety, Slim flees with her daughter. Relentless in his pursuit and enlisting the aid of lethal henchmen, Mitch continually stalks the prey that was once his family. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Slim Hiller: Jennifer Lopez Mitch Hiller: Billy Campbell Ginny: Juliette Lewis Joe: Dan Futterman Jupiter: Fred Ward Jim Toller: Bill Cobbs FBI Agent: Jeff Kober Instructor: Bruce A. Young Gracie Hiller: Tessa Allen Phil: Christopher Maher Mrs. Hiller: Janet Carroll Robbie: Noah Wyle Homeowner: Bruce French FBI Agent: Dan Martin FBI Agent: Brent Sexton Teacher Betty: Sandra Nelson Waitress: Lynne Marie Stewart Jupiter’s Blonde Girl: Margaret Emery Electronics Store Clerk: Victor McCay Mitch’s Young Blonde: Nikki Bokal Front Desk Clerk: John O’Brien Bank Teller: Louisa Abernathy Ticket Clerk: Kerri Higuchi Soup Server: Fern Ward Mr. Hiller: James Noah First Cop: Leif Riddell Teddy: Ruben Madera Film Crew: Production Design: Doug Kraner Producer: Rob Cowan Director of Photography: Rogier Stoffers Producer: Irwin Winkler Director: Michael Apted Writer: Nicholas Kazan Co-Producer: Jeanney Kim Casting: John Brace Stunt Coordinator: Simon Crane Transportation Captain: Don Tardino Executive Producer: E. Bennett Walsh Makeup Department Head: Teresa M. Austin Costume Design: Shay Cunliffe Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Paul Massey Music Editor: Zigmund Gron Costume Supervisor: Helen Monaghan Set Decoration: Tracey A. Doyle Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Doug Hemphill Sound Mixer: Robert Janiger Second Assistant Director: Joan G. Bostwick First Assistant Editor: Thomas Calderon Supervising Sound Editor: John A. Larsen Location Manager: Jennifer Dunne Art Direction: Andrew Menzies Key Grip: Brian H. Reynolds Assistant Art Director: Greg Berry Editor: Rick Shaine Unit Production Manager: Dennis Stuart Murphy First Assistant Director: Robert Huberman Construction Coordinator: David T. Cannon Script Supervisor: Benita Brazier Casting: Linda Lowy Camera Operator: Chris Squires Music Editor: Dina Eaton Key Makeup Artist: Pamela Santori Production Accountant: Michael Goosen Property Master: Chris Ubick Stunts: Gábor Piroch Special Effects Coordinator: Rick Thompson Unit Publicist: Vic Heutschy Still Photographer: Van Redin Assistant Sound Editor: David Wolowic Sound Effects Editor: Ken Fischer Hair Department Head: Martin Samuel ADR Supervisor: Lucy Coldsnow-Smith Color Timer: Harry Muller Assistant Sound Editor: Paul Apted Assistant Sound Editor: J. Aloysius Flanagan III Hairstylist: Susan Germaine Assistant Editor: Andrew Blustain ADR Editor: Kelly Oxford Foley Editor: Christopher Flick Set Designer: Suzan Wexler Makeup Artist: Margot Boccia Transportation Co-Captain: Timothy P. Ryan Cableman: Tom Fox Orchestrator: Nicholas Dodd Key Hair Stylist: Rod Ortega Rigging Gaffer: Martin Bosworth Casting Assistant: Derek Marquand Standby Painter: Lisa Shaftel Propmaker: Tony R. Medina First Assistant Camera: Makiko Carlson Dialogue Editor: Susan Dawes Dialogue Editor: Mildred Iatrou Original Music Composer: David Arnold Production Assistant: J. Wilfrid White Set Dresser: Paul Mugavero Graphic Designer: Steven Samanen Set Production Assistant: Trish Stanard Leadman: Luigi Mugavero Stand In: Alder Sherwood Set Production Assistant: Chad Saxton Boom Operator: George W. Scott Stunt Double: Jill Brown Stunt Double: Joe Bucaro III Movie Reviews: Andre Gonzales: Good movie. Love to see a woman take a position of power against her attacker. Even when that attacker is her husband.

[autistictum2]

My Odd Self-Ai Piscean Picture Character: This is Pisces Mitch Abernathy from The Hunger Games world. He is Gay Autistic Afro-Trinidadian. Mitch has won the throne and gives everything to his friends. He is optimistic and makes dreams into reality.

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A post shared by Rebel Piscespz Sealy (@studentcarlyle)

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Peeta stocks candied onions in the bakery. Names them 'The Abernathy Specialty.' The gossip columns unearth an old folklore character to compare him to, earning him the nickname of 'Shrek-Mitch.'

I personally choose to believe that the Hunger Games series is supposed to be Katniss's memoir/way of setting the record straight about her and her loved ones part in the Games/war. Meaning I think the entire country of New Panem was going into a FIT with every new chapter they read, let alone book. Just imagine the podcasts for a second.

"SO THE STAR-CROSSED LOVERS OF DISTRICT 12."

"YEAH."

"FATED SOULMATES."

"DESTINED TO BE TOGETHER."

"Role model for all of our relationships, I think it's safe to say."

"Mmhmm."

"It was a SURVIVAL STRAT????"

That baby reveal??? Had the country in SHAMBLES when they realized Peeta was lying. Her editors probably told her to just keep that out and she probably just said "why?? I have actual kids now, it's fine." The tabloids are blowing clear the fuck up all day every day. Peeta's hijacking??? People already knew but they didn't know EVERYTHING. God, those podcasts were LIT.

[one-mopeyboi]

Mitch and Maysie, a Hunger Games headcanon

(Warning for some amatonormative thoughts Haymitch has towards himself)

The outlier districts are more conservative.

Haymitch Abernathy grew up thinking it strange that he never had crushes on anyone (when even his kid brother ran away after giving a little girl flowers) or took anyone to the slag heap (when even Bannock Mellark took Daphne Lipp), but he thought he had to date someone.

If it has to be someone, it’ll be someone who he can actually stand, was his rationale, so that fell onto his only friend, Maysilee.

She snuck toffees for him to take home to his little brother behind the counter despite how her sister Marjorie would glare. (He rarely sees Maysilee’s other best friend, but he always snuck for Larkspur Everdeen a stack of bank notes so her littlest daughter could get some more food. That’s the best he could do)

She was the only audience to ever hear him play the fiddle, and danced to match. (At his kid’s toasting he does dance. It should be Abram Everdeen in his place, but still.)

On rainy days they sat together looking out the window of her upstairs bedroom. (He sees the boy and the girl’s silhouettes in the door of Katniss’ house and decides against an extra bottle of whiskey)

They snuck out the district fences following Abram Everdeen to decorate the pine trees the way people did before the Dark Days. (Willow and Bran come to tell Grandpa Haymitch what they learned at school : back when this district was still called Virginia, there was a tradition called Christmas)

He didn‘t even let his brother or ma call him Mitch, only her, for she was Maysie. (That one privilege, though, was never given to anyone else)

They never kissed, or went further, but make no mistake - that kind of love wasn’t the only kind.

They agreed to pretend to not know each other in the Arena, only making an alliance as if they were strangers who just happened to be from the same district.

The Games took his girl.