#the hunger games headcannon

[katiemay-025]

I Know You Well

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Summary: The 3rd Quarter Quell twist has been revealed and after the initial shock wears off, you have a conversation with your lover and fellow victor where you both promise that no matter who gets reaped, there would be no volunteering. Johanna will make sure of that.

wc: 2.5k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, use of y/n, violence, ptsd, swearing, Ifem!reader think that’s it.

An: I should probably make a banner for Johanna or something. Also I think I sent this head cannon to someone’s ask but I don’t remember whom I sent it to. :/

This probably would have been better as a blurb but oh well.

~~~~~

Johanna sat on the couch rolling her eyes and groaning at the sight of Katniss’ wedding gowns being presented to the audience. Her feet were propped up on the coffee table that you made and she had nothing on except a pair of fuzzy socks. “Ugh disgusting! What flock of white geese had to die for that dress?”

You chuckle at her words as you were cutting the bell pepper for dinner. “Do you mean swans, honey?”

“Absolutely not, she does not deserve swans.”

There were a total of 6 dresses to choose from and Cinna announced to the crowd that they could vote for which dress Katniss should wear. Johanna made another snide comment about making the Girl on Fire walk out in a suit of mud and call it a day. “They would definitely like that.”

“Katniss would not. I’m not too sure she’d be as comfortable as you being naked.”

Johanna cupped her own breast with a smirk. “At least I show myself off instead of being bought for it. What are they going to do? They can’t take it from me if I give it out for free.”

You tilted your head in acknowledgement of her words. It’s something you learned as a victor, watching others do the same. Finnick acted cocky as a defense mechanism. Enobaria sharpened her teeth to defend herself from the Capitol. Hell, you had done it, fiddling with your pocket saw out in the open. It was effective in scaring people away but it also gave you horrible flashbacks to your own game. What does that say about your view of the capital if you decide to willingly traumatize yourself again? Even so, after years of doing it, you’d only get flashes of the dark memory instead of a full blown panic attack. Exposure therapy at its finest.

Anyway, immediately after Cinna finishes his campaign for Katniss’ wedding dress, Snow took the podium on the raised balcony overlooking the city circle. “Why the fuck is he on our screens? As if voting for a wedding dress isn’t torturous enough.” Johanna groaned.

You put your knife down. The living room was a good 50 steps away from the kitchen counters and you placed your hands on the back of the couch watching intently. To you, the twist wouldn’t matter, you’d still have to mentor who ever the twist catered too.

“Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of Panem. This is the 75th year of the Hunger Games. When the charter of the Games was written, it dictated that every 25 years there would be a Quarter Quell… to make fresh for each new generation the memory of those killed in the rebellion against the Capitol. The Quarter Quell was reserved for the Games of special significance.”

Johanna sat up in her seat fiddling with the hilt of her axe. You noticed the slow movement of her thumb over the wooden handle before she took a breath.

“On the 25th anniversary, each district was made to vote on the tributes who should represent it. In the 50th anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for every Capitol citizen, each district was required to send twice the tributes to the arena. And now on the 75th anniversary of the Rebellion, we honor our third quarter quell, as bestowed to us, by the signers of the Treaty of Treason.”

A small wooden box is carried onto the balcony by a boy dressed in white. You watch as President Snow opens the box and retrieves a yellow sealed envelope. “As a reminder that even the strongest cannot over power the Capitol, on this 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the pool of existing victors of each district.”

The room froze, you and Johanna not daring to break the silence. Your eyes widened and you forgot to breathe. Chills traveled down your spine. Johanna reacted first gripping her axe and swinging it at the television projector with a scream, smashing it to pieces.

Your heart plunged to the ground. You were going back. Tears welled in your eyes and a lump found its way to your throat. The walls closed in around you and before it could crush you, you rushed out of the house.

Your foot caught each other on the way down the steps and you caught yourself with your hands and knees. The bushes beckoned you to them and you crawled over before dispensing the bile caught in your throat.

The fall was so fast you didn’t notice the glassy rocks that cut your knees. Only after you crawled to the log storage did you notice them. Smears of blood oozed out of your wounds and sticky red liquid coated your fingers.

Your hand began to shake.

The First Kill was never something you could get over. Her name was Olive and there was a sponsor sent to you on the 5th day, she was nearby and tried to take the gift from you. She tackled you to the ground and after a few moments of tussling in the grass, you found your saw and lodged it deep into her neck. Her blood trickled down coating your fingers as you pulled on your weapon to slice her neck. She died choking on her own blood. Your hands stained red and no matter how much you tried to scrub it off, it always remained on your hands.

Even now, as you frantically scrubbed your hands in the shed sink, it wouldn’t go away. The harder you rubbed the redder your hands got. That was how friction worked but in your state of delusion, it all looked the same.

The cascade of water stopped. As you moved your hands to the faucet, gentle hands cradled yours. A small whimper escaped your lips. You were going back. You were in the pool of existing victors. But so was Johanna. Your head snapped up spotting the younger girl focused on your reddened hands.

“Johanna.”

She let out an unamused chuckle. “I fucking trashed the house.”

“I assumed so.” You whispered. “I rubbed off the skin on my hands.”

Johanna hummed as she traced her thumb over the injury. “I know.”

You raised your arms to her to hold her face. “I need you to promise me something. Do not volunteer for me.”

She met your eyes with her own fiery ones while tilting her head. “One of us has to go in. Like hell, I’m going to let it be you.”

“I can handle myself, that’s why I’m telling you not to volunteer.”

“If you don’t volunteer then I won’t volunteer.” Johanna bargained. You went quiet pressing your lips into a thin line. Just like you knew her well enough to know she’d volunteer, she knew you well enough to know you would to. It was hypocritical so you agreed.

Johanna kept her unwavering eyes towards you. You matched her gaze until you found a soft glint in her eyes. Your shoulders relaxed as you looked a way. A deep sigh escaped your lips. “Fine, whoever gets picked for the reaping gets picked.”

“Great but we’re training for this. I am not going to have a rusty tribute as my mentee.”

~

Your heartbeat echoed in your ears and thumped against your rib cage. Your legs were wide enough for Johanna to fit between them. She stood in front of you playing with your hair as you buried your ear into her chest. Hers was almost as fast as yours but there was comfort in wrapping your arms around her.

You didn’t want to let go of Johanna. The thought of having to watch from the sidelines where you physically couldn’t protect her. The pressure in your chest felt like a bubbling volcano, stress building up before an eruption.

Usually the silence with Johanna was comfortable being able to be in the moment, in her arms. This time, the silent air was heavy. The small ticking of the clock reminded you of the looming possibility of going back to the arena.

You loved her. You made a promise not to volunteer but you had to. You had to protect her. Blight and Old Spruce came to pick you up for the reaping. When they knocked, Johanna gave you one last squeeze to your hand to comfort you. She made it a habit to hold your hands when you slipped into a memory lapse to keep you from rubbing the skin off your hands. In return you stocked and supplied the wooden logs for Johanna to split when her anger rose.

You snuck her a peck on her lips before the four of you trudged to the town square where the entirety of District 7 awaited the victors. The hot July sun did nothing to ease your worries as it heated your arms. You rocked onto your toes as the escort stepped onto the stage. It was ironic being an eligible tribute again. Seven years ago you dreaded for the slip to say your name and now seeing all the faces of District 7 on this raised platform, you prayed it was your name being called.

“Ladies First.” You stood staring out to your home. After these next moments, your life would never be the same. Either you get reaped and survive the loss of your closest friends turned enemy, Johanna is reaped and survives, you are reaped but die or Johanna is reaped but dies. The loss of it all would turn anyone insane.

Technically, you didn’t promise, you only agreed because it would get Johanna to not volunteer. So you could and you would. To your right, you could see Johanna eyeing you and you returned a glare.

“The female tribute from District 7 is...” He paused for dramatic effect and your heartbeat rose in your throat. Let it be me. Let it be me Let it be me. “Johanna Mason.” Your heart plummeted before turning your head to the escort. You weren’t going to accept this.

Before you could even open your mouth to object, you felt a sharp pain on your nose and a small pop in your neck from the force. Your head hit the ground and everything went black.

When you came to, you were on the train staring straight at Blight across from you on the table. “What the fuck happened?”

“Oh she’s back.” Spruce called. “You were out of it for about 30 minutes.”

“What do you remember?” Blight asked.

“Johanna was reaped and then it felt like my nose exploded.” You say wincing at the pain on the bridge of your nose. You groaned holding your head.

“Doc says you got a broken nose and a concussion.”

“Where’s Johanna?”

“The peacekeepers restrained her in her room.” The escort called. “She knocked you out in one go. She must’ve been so pissed that she was picked.” You shared a look with your fellow victors. The escort hadn’t been here to watch your relationship with Johanna. Both of you were great about hiding your relationship during the annual hunger games.

“So which of you got reaped?”

Blight took a deep breath. He took a swig of his alcohol laughing at the ridiculousness of it. “Can’t believe they’re making me go back after 20 something years.”

“So you and I are mentors.” Spruce solemnly said patting you on the shoulder. “Should I take Johanna?” He asked keeping up with appearances. Ironically it was like the 71st Hunger Games again. Mentoring was set by priority. Old Spruce had said yes to mentoring while the others said no meaning you had no choice but to mentor Johanna. This time you could choose her.

“No. No I’ll talk to her.”

“Take things slowly okay, you took a big fall.”

“Yes dad.” You joked. Dad was nice, ‘Old Spruce’ was pushing 65. He had been your mentor during your games and continued to take care of you afterwards.

The walk to Johanna’s room was short luckily. A peacekeepers stood outside the door and you smiled at him. “Hi I’m here to talk to my mentee.” He looked at you and stepped aside. As soon as the door slid closed, you looked at Johanna. “You fucking bitch.”

She turned her attention to you from the fuzzes of green zooming past the window. A soft smile plastered on her face. “You promised you weren’t going to volunteer.”

“Technically I didn’t. I agreed so you wouldn’t volunteer. We didn’t shake on it or pinky promise or sign a contract so….”

“You were going to volunteer.”

“Yes.”

“Great I’m glad I know you well enough.”

“Decking me in the face was part of the plan?”

“Absolutely.” You stared at her unamused. “Don’t look at me like that. We both know we were going to break that promise to protect the other. Maybe you planned that all along or it was a last minute thought but I saw the look on your face. I anticipated it and knocked you out before you could.” Johanna told shrugging her shoulders as she walked towards you.

“You broke my nose.”

“It’s better than you dead.” Johanna countered. “I said I wasn’t going to let you go back in. I made that promise to myself and I kept it.”

“What do I do if I lose you? Do you think you’re the only one who loves in this relationship.”

Johanna held onto your waist. “First, avenge me. Second, none of us want the other to go in but someone is going to be forced to. I’m sorry, I’d rather it be me than you. You would be safer.”

“Safe is a relative term and when did you become such a sap?”

“Oh you know, since I started dating the best girl I’ve ever met.”

“Shut up.”

“Why don’t you make me.”

You closed the gap and let your lips meld with the younger girl. Slowly, the two of you walked towards her bed. She sat on her bed and you climbed on top of her with little room to breathe. Johnna wrapped her arms around the back of your neck to bring you in closer deepen the kiss. She flipped you over before nuzzling her face into your neck.

You held her in your arms playing with her hair. Lulling yourself to sleep. “Don’t die okay.” You whispered.

“I won’t.”

“I do hope you break your nose though.”

“Ugh get over it.”

“No! Although it was a smart countermove.”

“Thank you. I thought long and hard about it for all of 5 seconds after you first told me not to volunteer.”

“Well that’s the last time I trust you.” You joked.

“You love me.”

“I do. I know you do too.”

“Yeah, I do.” Johanna sighed. The both of you laid motionless embracing the other, enjoying the moment.

[uhohdad]

(18+)

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

loser!könig finally breaks, he can’t handle it anymore. He needs you, he needs touch, he needs someone to help him relieve the ache in his frustrated, swollen cock.

loser!könig is on his knees, clinging to your leg with his cheek smushed to your thigh, mumbling unintelligible pleas into your skin.

loser!könig lets out a sob when your delicate hand slides into his hair, trailing your fingers over his scalp. Using that gentle, sweet voice to ask him what’s going on, what’s wrong, what happened.

loser!könig who looks up at you with glassy eyes and a trembling bottom lip, his desperate hold on you tightening when he catches your turned brows and features stitched in worry.

loser!könig whines and mutters nonsense as he presses his face back into your warm, cozy thigh, planting sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin. The stubble on his jaw sands against you while he paints you in his slobber and broken pleads.

loser!könig can’t control himself anymore, he needs release, grinding his painful erection against your shoe, his strong arms holding you steady even though you’re frozen in place. Your fingers are still laced with locks of his hair, but your soft scratches have ceased while he ruts his hips into you.

loser!könig lasts only seconds, needy whimpers and pathetic moans silenced when his muscles twitch around you, staining the inside of his underwear with his generous, pent-up finish.

loser!könig and you are both still and silent, the only sound that cuts through the heavy air is his exhausted, heaved breaths.

loser!könig lets out a sniveling whine, his eyes pinching shut, hiding his burning face in your thigh when you resume your gentle, soothing scratches through his hair.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

loser!könig <3

[waywardangel-wilds]

I’m in the middle of cooking, but I had to do some passport related stuff today which meant digging through my ‘family’ box and here’s a list of random things I think would be in Katniss’s initially‘Peeta’ box that eventually becomes her ‘family’ box:

The button from Peeta’s old coat - this is an old fanfic thing I made up, but I got it in my head that Peeta fidgets a lot with the 3rd button of his coat — so much so that it fell off. Katniss kept it.

A lock of hair from each toastbaby -from their first haircut.

A ticket from one of the new fair booths at the harvest festival - This is from the first ever date she went on, Peeta took her to harvest post-war.

A maple leaf - Peeta said the maples looked really nice on the first day she ever took him to the lake, so she kept one.

A ‘friend’ - one of the toast babies had a ‘toy’ rock - just a random rock with a happy face on it.

Buttercups bell - buttercup started wearing a bell because it was just easier to find him that way. Katniss puts it in the box after he dies.

Every single handmade card Peeta’s ever given her - this includes birthdays, Mother’s Day, and one cheeky ‘mockingjay day.’

The newspaper from the day the bakery opened - there’s a picture of both of them on the front cover looking happy.

Every single elementary school handmade gift from the toastbabies- honorable mentions: foam magnets in the shapes of fruit from the food pyramid unit, Mother’s Day macaroni cards, one homemade gum-ball machine from woodworking, and miscellaneous ‘family and me’ drawings in which everyone’s head is a comically strange size.

Peeta’s first and now expired drivers license- he just looked cute.

And I could come up with more if you’d like haha.

[buggiebite]

Long Day at School

Daddy! Peeta makes my heart melt. Figured everyone needed some of him to withstand the winter.

[katnissandpeetamellark]

Ya know I just headcanon the people of the Capitol to be on the shorter side

I’m from an area where everyone’s just tall (women are like 5’8-5’11 generally, men like 5’11-6’8 or taller— not everyone is 6’8 btw just enough where it’s like ???)

So it would be even funnier to me if Coriolanus was just short and Sejanus being just tall pissed him off even if no else is remotely as tall as Sejanus. He’s over here like “I should be that tall” but it’s just not the truth 😭

[littlemarianah]

A fanfic where Katniss and Peeta live in different cities and only see each other on the weekends.

Katnsis hates distance. Suffering from the anticipation of not being able to smell his blond hair for a whole week, she takes a dirty shirt from Peeta without him knowing.

Oh yes, she takes the dirtiest shirt she can find and spends the whole week wearing to sleep better.

And do you want to know something? she loves it.

When Peeta comes back and sees her wearing his shirt he says something like "If I knew you wanted to sleep in something mine I'd bring you something clean."

She furrows her eyebrows "but then it won't smell like you..."

He gives a long "Oh...." in realization.

[thief-of-eggs]

could you do some snowjanus headcanons for their life together had they both decided to runaway together after the whole mayfield situation. (i love this ship so much and your writing is just chef’s kiss.)

ok ok i don’t have time to format this into a fic rn BUT i’m so glad you asked this because i literally love the idea of them running off together, SO-

- While Mayfair’s body is still cooling, Coriolanus formulates his plan. There’s nothing left for him here, and it’s only a matter of time before he’s found out. Hurriedly, Coryo explains to Sejanus he’d recently discovered that someone had told the Captain of Sejanus’s treasonous plans, which means he’s just as damned as Coryo. Sejanus is quick to agree to run- he too has nothing left for him here after all, and clearly he can’t make much of a difference, based on how things went with Billy Taupe. He’s still shaky from their night, but Sejanus still thanks Coriolanus for watching out for him, for protecting him and keeping him safe. Coryo feels guilt gnaw at his chest, but reasons that at least he’s making it right. Even if he’s throwing everything away to make it that way.

- Coryo finds Lucy Gray in the crowds of the tavern, and pulls her aside. He offers her two options- either she come along too, or he writes a confession, leaving the gun with his fingerprints for the peacekeepers to find. He was already condemned, and so is Sejanus, but at least they can save her. Tearfully she agrees, thanking him for taking care of her, and turning to Sejanus to make him promise to take care of Coryo from now on too.

- They leave under the cover of the moon, after Coryo plants the gun close to Mayfair’s body, after he writes a damning letter to Tigris and leaves it in his things at the base. They quickly gather a few belongs and leave when their fellow peacekeepers are sleeping.

- Out in the forrest, they quickly fall into the brawns/brains dynamic. Sejanus is the one trekking onward, the one helping carry their things when Coryo tires. Meanwhile, Coryo is the one mapping out their course, is the one deciding when to rest and when to hunt, is the one watching the skies for hints of rain.

- They don’t talk about their relationship at first. And things start slowly between them anyway. Through them sharing body heat as they curl up together under the stars, Coriolanus grumbling the whole time, but then melting when Sejanus wraps his big warm arms around him. He tries to fight it, but he always ends up the little spoon.

- Sejanus kisses him first. It’s as they’re halfway across the mountains, after they’ve been sitting in front of the fire for a little while, chatting freely about life back home. They’re both more unguarded than ever, and Coriolanus shares a bit about his family’s burdens- and then Sejanus is saying how he’d always suspected Coriolanus was hiding something, and Coryo says he’s always hiding something, but he’s trying to stop that now. And then Sejanus is gazing at him, and Coryo is looking back, and when Sejanus kisses him, it’s tentative and questioning- but Coryo doesn’t push him away.

- They don’t know where they’re headed, but they keep on going. Unknowingly, they’re headed in the direction of district 13- but it’s a while before they begin to recognize that. It’s slow going on foot, and Coryo is certainly not built for life in the wild- but Sejanus thrives. It’s like he was made to be in the trees, made to wander the earthen floors. His smile is so much more dazzling out here under the brilliant sun, his laughter so much louder without the confines of the captial to hold it in.

- They start to kiss more frequently. All the time really. They walk side by side, hand in hand. When Coryo tires, he leans his body into Sejanus’s as they walk, and Sejanus will turn his head to plant a kiss onto Coriolanus’s head.

- The night that Coriolanus confesses to Sejanus about the jabberjay is a cold one. They’re settled just beyond the mountains, with the cover of trees surrounding their little campfire. Coriolanus watches the flames as he confesses it all, leaving no detail out, beginning with his tarnished family name, and ending with his desperation to save himself from the noose. He won’t look at Sejanus, too afraid that he’ll find the warmth in his friend’s eyes washed away. When he’s done, it’s silent. For a long while they sit in the weight of his words, until finally- Sejanus takes his hand.

“We all do things we aren’t proud of to survive,” Sejanus murmurs. And Coriolanus feels a single tear roll down his cheeks. Sejanus doesn’t know how true his words are.

- Their trust is rebuilt slowly. Sejanus, so kind and forgiving and understanding, doesn’t hold Coriolanus’s actions against him. But there’s certainly a wedge driven between them now, one that takes a while to be chipped fully away. But once it is- once Coriolanus has proven himself time and time again that his loyalties lie with Sejanus now- through throwing himself between Sejanus and a bear, through staying up with him all night after he’s been poisoned by a bad bit of fruit, by repeatedly offering up their only food so that Sejanus can keep his energy going- after all of it, their relationship begins to bloom. With no secrets holding them back, their feelings are free to grow wild.

- The first time they have sex is in the middle of a rain storm, under the cover of a fallen tree that they arrange into a temporary shelter. It’s messy and muddy and Coriolanus is shivering by the end of it- but his heart is warm in a way he can’t begin to explain, his chest so full once they’re done, when Sejanus holds him tight in his arms, when he kisses the top of his head and whispers how he hopes to never lose Coriolanus

- The day that they reach the border of district 13 is a clear one. They see the rubble clearly before them- and Coriolanus warns Sejanus that they not get any closer, but Sejanus treks onward anyway, noting that the rubble isn’t nearly as drastic as the propaganda he’d been shown back in 2.

- They’re greeted fairly soon by armed guards. Confused and tired, Sejanus and Coriolanus willingly go with them, following them into the depths of district 13’s base. Nothing makes sense to either of them anymore- hadn’t there been no one left here? But no- the base is teeming with life, though certainly not enough of it to fill the many halls.

- Theyre questioned, and questioned again. After deeming that they’re no threat to 13, and after deciding that there’s no where else for them to go, they’re given a mini history lesson on district 13, explaining everything from the end of the war till now.

- Sejanus and Coryo talk that night, in a guest room that they’re given to share. They talk and talk and talk, and eventually, they both agree. There’s no where else for their weary legs to take them, no where else for them to push onward to.

- They agree to stay, and district 13, still shaky in their numbers from the war, eagerly accepts them, desperate for their insight on the capitol, and any information they might hold to help bring them down one day.

- It takes Coriolanus a while to fully see the capital as the enemy. It’s a process of unlearning on his part, a process of seeing the bad that he’d been surrounded with his entire life, and accepting it for what it is. Sejanus helps him adjust, helps him work through his confusion and his frustration. District 13 never pushes them, always patient with the two of them on how much they’re willing to share.

- They’re both entered into their military program, though Coriolanus is soon transferred to their weapons team. After a while, Sejanus is promoted to medic, where he begins to study medicines and diseases. District 13 becomes an unlikely home for them both, a place where both of their talents are encouraged and fostered.

- They stay in the same dorm, having received the same benefits as that of a married couple. Each night they fall asleep in eachothers arms, each morn they wake to soft kisses and gentle touches.

- Sejanus tells him he loves him frequently. Coriolanus doesn’t say it back for a long while, but Sejanus doesn’t hold him to it. Eventually, though, he does- in the softest moments between them, in the most passionate, in the most tender. That is when Coriolanus feels he has the freedom to speak his mind, and that is when he utters the three heavy but blissful words back- “I love you.”

- Years later, Lucy Gray and the Covey find their way to them, having unintentionally followed the same path through the mountains. They bring life and music to the rigid district 13, and Sejanus and Coriolanus weep when they first see them.

- Eventually, after years of serving and living in district 13, after proving their loyalty again and again- they’re entrusted with the care of a newborn girl, who’s father had been lost in a small round of flu, and who’s mother had died in childbirth. They name her Rose- in honor of Coriolanus’s mother, in honor of the one good thing he can hold dead from his family legacy. She takes on the last name Plinth, the same name that Coriolanus himself takes on. The final shedding of his family’s legacy.

- The three of them are a happy unit, with auntie Lucy Gray playing a large role in her upbringing. She’s taught to love music and color, to be compassionate to all around her, to fight for what she believes in, and to always tell the truth.

- Years and years later, Sejanus notes that he and Coriolanus don’t have an anniversary, seeing as they’d never officially gotten married at all. They talk to the officials in 13, and soon plan a modest wedding, with Rose as the flower girl and Lucy Gray as their main performer.

- The words “I love you” finally come freely to Coriolanus, just as they’ve always come freely to Sejanus. He doesn’t feel the need to protect himself anymore, doesn’t feel the need to be on constant surveillance, constant watch. He can allow himself to curl up int Sejanus’s arms, can allow himself to feel everything for the man he’d so clearly been in love with for a long while, back since he’d first laid eyes on him-

The boy with the bag of gum drops from so long ago, new to the districts, and in desperate need of a friend. Now Coriolanus’s faithful husband, his loyal protector, and the loving father of his daughter.

[happy74827]

Work Jitters

[Gideon Graves x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Getting the job at Graves Industries was hard enough, but keeping it? That was a whole new ballpark.

WC: 3752

Category: Slight Hurt, Slight Fluff (?), Gideon being… Gideon {TW—Vomiting}.

Jason Schwartzman, my beloved.

『••✎••』

Gideon Graves, that smug bastard.

You'd seen his picture in the paper once, or maybe more than once; you couldn't recall exactly. The article was about his company, about how he'd been awarded several "big brain" awards in the past three years, and about how his company was looking to hire the best and brightest. The article even said how much he valued diversity.

But then, why was he working so hard to keep you from the job?

It wasn't as though you were the most unqualified person in the world to be hired at G-Man Media. You'd worked in tech for a number of years. You'd worked hard. You were smart, and you had experience. But apparently, Gideon Graves had a way of making things difficult for you. He was looking for people who were more than qualified.

"But I'm plenty qualified," you'd told him, practically stomping your foot. "And you can't make me feel like I'm not qualified. You don't have that kind of power."

You'd watched in utter amazement as he'd waved his hand dismissively at you.

"Power?" He laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I have no power over you. I have influence. I can make life difficult for you, but it's not as though I'm doing that. You've simply failed to impress me."

Your cheeks burned as you tried to think of something clever to say to that, but there was no way to deny his words.

He didn't even sound angry. He sounded so sure of himself, so absolutely positive of his own superiority. And he'd been so smug about the whole thing, too. Like you were a piece of trash, he'd just found on the street.

And that had just pissed you off so badly. You were usually a fairly even-tempered person. But when you'd walked away from that meeting, you'd felt like you were about to burst out of your skin. You'd marched straight back to your car and driven to a nearby grocery store parking lot. You'd climbed out of the car and put your hands on the hood, pressing your forehead against the warm metal, letting yourself take a few deep breaths to try to calm yourself down.

And that was how you'd met Gideon Graves…

Your boss.

Yes, boss. Despite the fact that he openly admitted his dislike for you, you decided that he was wrong, so wrong, in fact, that you stormed up to him the next day and told him so.

"I'm not failing to impress you," you told him, "You’re failing to impress me.”

You'd watched him fold his arms over his chest and scowl at you. You'd wanted to bite your tongue. He'd had an intense scowl.

But you hadn't bitten your tongue. Instead, you'd done something even more stupid.

"I know how to work a computer," you snapped.

That wasn’t as hard-hitting as you'd intended; it was honestly the stupidest thing you have ever said, but it made that tiny corner of Gideon's lip turn up. Not his usual, knowing smirk, but an actual genuine smile.

"Oh?" he said, leaning back in his chair, tilting his head back and studying you, his eyes narrowed. "That’s one impressive skill set."

Sarcasm. You could deal with sarcasm. You'd dealt with sarcasm in college. Sarcasm was almost your best friend at this point.

"I'm a quick learner," you told him, "and I can work anything with a keyboard."

He laughed again, his smile growing. You were starting to think he just smiled when he was mocking people, but there had been times when his smiles had seemed more genuine, and this one had definitely felt genuine.

"I'm sure you are," he told you, and you felt yourself smile just a little bit when he didn't say it in a mocking tone. "But there's a little more to the job than that."

"I can do the job."

His eyes narrowed, and you were pretty sure he was trying to decide if he wanted to fight you. He leaned forward, placing his arms on the desk.

"What makes you think that you have any chance of winning this position? I told you once, and I’m telling you twice. You're not all that impressive."

"No," you agreed, "not compared to you. You're an idiot savant—a genius with a cocky attitude. But the company isn't looking for an idiot. They want someone with ambition. And I have it. I'm not giving up."

"No?"

"No."

He sat back in his seat, leaning back in his chair, a little smug smile curling his lips.

He was deep in contemplation. His eyes were on you. His face was an inscrutable mask, but his eyes. Those eyes of his. You felt as though he could see straight through you. He had seen you and known, without having to be told, that you weren't like the rest of his previous employees. That you were determined and that he wasn't going to be able to stop you.

He might not like you, but he recognized that you were going to keep trying to get the job and that you were probably the only person in the world who wasn't intimidated by his smug attitude.

"You have balls," he said.

"Thank you."

"No," he said with a frown, "that wasn't a compliment."

He shook his head and held out his hand. You glanced at it and then back at his face.

"A deal," he told you. "One week. You go to work, and you try your damnedest to impress me. Fail, and you’re gone. Pass, and you'll get the job. Deal?"

Your smile was wide, and you reached out and took his hand, giving it a shake.

"Deal," you said.

And here you were, nearly two weeks later, still with the job. You were honestly so impressed with yourself.

It wasn't always easy; Gideon Graves could be a real bastard. But he was an interesting person. He always looked so sure of himself, but there were moments where you could see his doubts. You could see them on the rare occasions when he was surprised or flustered. His confidence was sometimes only a mask for the uncertainty underneath.

He was an enigma to you.

You tried to learn as much about him as possible. You absolutely hated his attitude, but you were more than willing to admit to yourself that you were genuinely curious about the man. There was just something about him that made him fascinating to you. You wanted to know what was going on inside that complicated head of his.

So, you watched.

You watched as he ate lunch. You saw how he would never take more than two bites and would only take the smallest possible amount of time to eat. He never left a single crumb on the table, never let anything get near him that might leave even the tiniest bit of food on his clothes.

You saw how he would do his own filing and paperwork. He could type up a report in no time at all. And you could swear you'd seen him go through a pile of paperwork and not so much as lose his place once. You'd tried to copy his speed a few times, but your fingers were just too clumsy. You were nowhere near his skill level.

You watched how he handled people. He was arrogant, and he had his share of asshole moments, but he was always polite. Always professional. Even if the person he was speaking to was an idiot, he still managed to maintain his composure. Sure, he belittled them, but he did so in a way that was still professional. He never made any comment that would get him sued.

He never let his composure slip, except for one time, and It was all your fault.

You felt sick. You had woken up that morning with a headache and a body that felt like lead. It had taken you forever to get out of bed. By the time you had gotten yourself together and had managed to drag yourself to the shower, you'd felt even worse. But, with how Gideon acted, you were used to getting your work done regardless of how you were feeling, so you'd gotten dressed and headed to the office.

A total of four hours later, you were starting to regret not staying home.

You were doing your best to keep your eyes open, but you just couldn't stay awake. Your mind felt fuzzy. Your body was like a heavyweight. And all you could think about was going back to your apartment and crawling into bed. You could feel your body leaning forward.

The chair tipped, and your body rolled forward, nearly falling out of the chair, only stopping when you hit the edge of the desk.

And then there were hands on you.

Gideon's hands.

He had you, his arm under your shoulders, holding you against him as he straightened the chair.

"Office. Now. Before you hurt yourself," he said, his voice cold, his expression hard.

You stood up, but your head spun. You might have been able to fight it if he had actually helped you to your feet, but instead, he let go of you, watching with a frown as you wobbled back and forth before turning around and starting for the office.

Your feet felt heavy. Your body felt as though it was moving in slow motion. You stumbled a few times before making it into the room. He came in after you, closing the door behind him. You saw him scowl at you before walking to his desk. He leaned against it and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at you.

"So much for impressing me."

"Sorry," you said, slumping in the chair across from his desk. You could feel your eyes drifting closed. You couldn't help it, but you knew it was because you were so tired.

"I pay you to get your work done, not to go to sleep on the job. I don't care how sick you are. This is unacceptable."

You wanted to tell him you were sorry, but your mouth wouldn't move. You were just too tired.

"Do I have to drag you out of this chair myself?"

You managed to open your eyes and look up at him. You tried to say something, but all that came out was a mumble.

He frowned, his lips a tight line. He pushed off of the desk, and then he was moving towards you. Your stomach lurched as he reached down, grabbing hold of your arm and pulling you up. Your legs wobbled underneath you. His hand was at your elbow.

"Careful," he said, keeping his grip on you until you had straightened up. "You took this job knowing that it would require effort. I will not have you losing sight of what you're doing because you're too lazy to get out of bed in the morning."

"I-”

Then, the worst thing imaginable happened. Just as he was threatening to fire you, your stomach lurched again. But instead of it just being your stomach, this time, it was the entire digestive system as a whole.

It wasn’t until his release on your arm, the wave of nausea subsiding and your head spinning so hard that you could barely stand, that you realized what had happened.

You just puked all over your boss.

You looked at him in horror. His white suit and red shirt were completely covered in a disgusting mix of stomach fluids and coffee. This was where you saw him break. His normal, professional demeanor vanished, and his eyes grew wide, his jaw-dropping.

For a moment, you thought he might say something. But then his eyes narrowed, and his expression hardened, his lips pursing together. He was shaking from head to toe. You couldn't tell if he was angry or if he was disgusted.

"Out," he hissed, his voice quiet but venomous.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Get the hell out.”

You nodded and quickly did as you were told.

Great, not only did you ruin a suit that was probably worth more than your apartment, but you managed to piss off Gideon and get yourself fired. The job you fought so hard for was just thrown out the window in an instant. You didn't blame him. If you were him, you would have fired you too.

It was a long drive home. You were still feeling sick to your stomach, but now it became more like the feeling of a hangover than actual illness. Your headache had subsided a bit, but you felt achy all over.

You pulled up in front of your apartment complex and climbed out of the car, feeling like you were made of lead. You stood there for a moment, leaning against your car, waiting for the feeling of your body to return to normal. When it finally did, you headed inside and took a quick shower before crawling into bed, not even bothering with any dinner.

Your last thought was how Gideon Graves had looked when he realized you had puked on him. You wondered if he was okay. You tried not to think about it, but his expression kept coming back to mind, over and over. He'd looked like he'd been about to explode.

Again, understandably so. But even though you'd done your best to forget it, the memory just wouldn't leave your mind.

The incident became a week’s memory, but you still couldn't stop thinking about him, about his face. About the fact that you lost your job over something so stupid.

It was another week before you saw Gideon again. Honestly, you weren’t expecting it.

Your doorbell rang, and you figured it was the pizza guy since it was just after five o'clock, and you had ordered some dinner. But when you went to the door, there was no pizza guy. Instead, there was Gideon Graves leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at you.

You glanced at him for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, your cheeks burning, and then looked back down at your feet.

"I'm sorry," you said.

"Don’t apologize. I don’t want your apologies.” He looked around, glancing at your apartment. "Are you going to let me in, or are you just going to keep standing there until you decide to ruin my suit again?"

You blinked, looking back at his face, but his expression hadn't changed.

You moved aside, letting him in. He walked past you and stood in your living room. His eyes darted around, and you could tell he was taking it all in. You had a tiny apartment, but it was nice; you'd worked hard to make it so. You had a nice couch, a few bookshelves, a TV, and a small table and chairs in the kitchen area.

"Well?" He said, turning back to look at you.

"I- What?” You asked, not knowing what to say.

"I’ve called you. No responses. I came to your apartment last week. No answer. And now that I'm here, you're standing there, looking like an idiot when I expected a fully functioning human being."

You blinked a few times, still not entirely sure what was going on. You cleared your throat.

"What do you want?"

“What do I want?” He scoffed. His face twisted into a look of disgust, his eyes narrowing at you, and his upper lip curling just the tiniest bit as though he smelled something rotten. "You ruined my suit, and then you left. You don't answer your phone when I call. Did your uncultured brain forget about the job you practically begged me for? I told you to impress me, but if you can't even be bothered to show up, I have no interest in continuing your employment."

You frowned, your jaw dropping open.

"Wait, I’m not already fired?”

His eyes snapped up to your face, his brow furrowing. His lip twitched as he fought to hold back whatever he wanted to say to you. The long pause had your mind shifting attention to him. The way he looked. The way he smelled. You took a small step forward.

"I... I thought-"

He was wearing a suit, like usual, but instead of the white suit with the red shirt, he wore a dark gray suit with a light blue shirt. The shirt wasn't buttoned all the way. He hadn't worn a tie, but he usually always had one, so you were a little shocked when you saw that he didn't have one.

And his hair. His hair wasn't slicked back the way it usually was. Instead, it was loose. It's not quite messy, but it's not perfect either.

"You thought you'd been fired?" he said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You nodded.

He sighed and then shook his head. His hands made their way to his glasses, and you realized that his eyes had been fixed on the ground this whole time. He was staring at the floor like he couldn't even look at you.

"I would never fire someone for… puking on me. I’m not that cruel," he muttered. He turned his eyes on you, his fingers adjusting the frames of his glasses. "No. You're still employed here. I simply came to inform you that I'm willing to overlook this week, but the next one that you miss, you're fired."

"Oh," you said. “I- Thank you."

"Don't thank me."

He was turning to leave, and you had to wonder why he had come here in the first place.

"Gideon?"

He paused, his back still to you.

"What did you think I was doing?"

You could see him stiffen, and you had no doubt that he was clenching his jaw. But after a moment, he turned back to look at you, his eyes meeting yours, and you noticed that he had stopped chewing his gum.

"If I had to guess," he said, his tone sharp, "I would have assumed that you were either sleeping or still sick. I told you I would have you fired if you were too sick to work. The fact that you didn't even bother to respond to my calls and messages was more than enough for me to assume the latter."

“But you didn’t fire me."

He narrowed his eyes. "If you don't feel well enough, I suggest you stay home. I don't want to deal with your incompetence right now."

He started to leave again.

"Wait!" You called after him.

He stopped again and looked back over his shoulder at you. His expression was dark and foreboding.

"Do you... Do you need anything?"

"Need? What could you possibly-"

You interrupted him, cutting him off before he could say anything rude or condescending.

"I'm sorry I puked on you. I really am. If I had the money for another suit, I would replace it, but I… don't have that kind of money."

"It’s not ruined. I shipped it to be dry cleaned." He sighed, rolling his eyes. "I don’t want or need your apologies, nor do I need your money. It's not worth a thousand dollars."

"Well, what do you need?"

He was silent, turning his eyes on the floor again, his fingers fussing with his glasses again. His brow was furrowed, and you could see that he was struggling with something.

"Gideon?"

"Stop saying my name like that," he snapped.

He turned around and looked at you again. You blinked in confusion, and he sighed, walking back towards you until he was standing in front of you.

You've forgotten, honestly, how short he was. You were used to thinking of him as this giant of a man. When he walked into a room, his presence made him seem larger than life. But now, you were able to see that he was really a bit shorter than you were. He was a bit on the skinny side, too, not muscular or anything like that. But he still had presence, even when he was being quiet when he was simply standing there looking at you, his lips pressed into a tight line.

"Why?"

You blinked again.

"Why what?"

He rolled his eyes, and his expression softened for a moment, just for a moment, before he got angry again.

"You're not supposed to sound so concerned about me. It's insulting. I'm your boss. I shouldn't need anything from you. That's why."

"It’s just a favor… If it will keep you from firing me, I'll do it," you said.

“Just show me you're not incompetent," he snapped, "that you can do your job without having a meltdown over it."

"Okay."

"And quit making me repeat myself. Just show me. I want you to show me that you're going to be an asset to this company."

"I will."

His lips pressed into a thin line, and he was silent for a moment, his eyes searching your face. He sighed again, his shoulders relaxing as he did so.

"I need-"

"Yeah?"

His eyes narrowed.

"Are you going to interrupt me every time I tell you something?"

"Yes," you said.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but he didn't yell at you. Gideon just sighed, looking tired all of a sudden, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"I need you to come in tomorrow. I have some… matters I need to attend to, so you need to handle the rest of the work."

"Okay. Can I ask what’s going on?"

His eyes narrowed again, his lips pursing, and you felt like you might have pushed too far, but you were determined to be better.

"Just show up tomorrow," he said, his voice a bit softer. He sounded less angry.

He turned again and headed back for your front door.

"Gideon?"

"What?" He asked, not looking at you as he turned around, his hand reaching for the knob.

"Thanks… for not firing me."

He looked up at you, meeting your eyes, and you were surprised to see that he was smiling again, albeit a tiny little smile, but he was smiling.

"Don't thank me; just get it together," he said, and he pulled open your door and left, shutting it behind him.

And you were left there, staring at your front door, wondering how the hell you were going to be able to do the work that he was going to give you and where exactly that damn pizza was.

[colddelusionsheep]

And we are back with the second part! Not going to lie, I started working on a DND campaign right after this. So writing progress is slow. Still writing at ungodly hours of the night tho, and as always, no one under 18.

1st Part

The start

As the other tribute said good by to his family. You could see how they cried for him. How they weeped for the fact that he would not be returning.

The other tribute was a boy that you had seem around the district. Flint Overhill. You never had any interaction with him, but each time you saw him you could tell he didn't like you.

He had dark black hair that was just above his shoulders. His eyes were such a dark blue that they almost looked black in the right light. If you remember correctly, last reaping the girl he was sweet on got picked.

She was a nice girl, quiet and kept to herself. She died as soon as the games started, didn't even stand a chance. Just like you.

The peacekeepers led his family out, and you could hear them weeping even after the door was closed and locked. Flint finally looked at you. The disgust in his eyes was plain to see.

"Looks like your luck has finally ran out. How does it feel to get what you deserve?" His words hit deep. They hit a place you thought had long sense gone cold.

"It wasn't my fault you know. My name was in there same as hers."

"Don't you dare speak of her." You could tell he was holding back. "With how many times you have put your name in, it should of been you."

"I-" before you could even respond. A patronizing voice spoke up.

"Oh my tributes, I certainly do have my hands full, don't I? Let's try not to kill each other just yet. You want to save that for the games!" Nodding his head, you could see all the pins that were in place to hold his wig on. "It makes a great show, oh yes indeed, but what's the point in a show with no cameras."

Both you and Flint were speechless. The complete disregard he had was unlike anything either of you had seen.

"Now, my name is Marius. I will be taking care of you two for the next couple of days. I hope I don't have trouble in the future with you two." As he spoke, he gave you and Flint a small wink. Then he started to usher the two of you into the train.

Before you know it, it felt like you stepped into a whole new world. Finery unlike anything you could've ever thought of existed was right here in front of your eyes.

"For the few days you are with us, you two shall be treated like royalty. Only the finest of things shall be able to touch my tributes' skin." As he went on, you mind stated to wonder along with your eyes.

You could see Flint role his eyes at Marius. Finding whatever you had just tuned out to be incredibly boring. You ran your hands along the wooded walls. It's smoothness brought back a far away memory to you.

It was blurry, but you could see the fine wood above you. Along with a man's voice....a voice that sounded so familiar. Before you could get lost into it more.

You felt a pinch on your arm. Snapping your head up. You could see the unapproving face of Marius. "Now, we will have to work on those manners. They are absolutely deplorable. No matter, we shall tackle that problem in the morning. You two get some rest. You will meet your mentor in the morning as well. So those manners better be improved."

At the last sentence, he gave you an especially harsh glare.

Flint brushed past you, giving your shoulder a mean jab as he did it.

You silently followed where they were showing you two your rooms. Stepping into your quarters. You were in awe of the luxury that was in it. Sitting on the bed felt like you would sleeping in the arms of an angel. Even the smell was wonderous. It was a mix of vanilla and rose.

But, before you could fully enjoy all the things around you. You suddenly remembered at what cost this is all for. Tears start to fall down in violent choked sobs.

You didn't want them to know, you didn't want them to know just how hopeless you are. How you were doomed to die in that arena just like they all wanted.

Yet, as you sat the crying your soul out. You were unaware of the camera watching your every move.

===============================

"I want those mutts done by tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir."

As her lower confirmed. She went back watching the live feed. She has to give you credit, you were a pretty cryer. At least in her eyes.

This year was going to be a fun one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There we go! I hope y'all like it. Also, small little note, I do not do taglists. They can get pretty chaotic and I write on my phone so they can get really annoying to do.

[inkluvs]

thinking about finnick odair when his hairs just a little bit too long and its in his eyes and hair to push it back every so often. and when hes doing something like cooking he has to tie it back into a pig tail on the top of his head that like bobs up and down as he nods to whatevers playing in the background <3

[friendship-ditch]

Katniss headcanons pls <33333

Hi hi, this is more of like a little drabble cause I got carried away but it works

Early Mornings w/ Katniss

It’s early morning, the sun rays are so soft as they waft in through the window, if you could touch them, they’d feel fluffy

The woods outside the open windows are quiet and peaceful. A few birds sing and the breeze gently blows the curtains

Katniss curled in your arms, her head tucked into your neck, her soft breath tickling your skin. Her eyes are closed in a rare, peaceful rest

Your arms are wrapped around her, her head resting on one of them. One of your hands rests in her hair as you pry the hair tie from her locks and release her braid, the other on her side that slowly rises and falls

It's practically perfect; cozy, warm, adorable...

But one thing would make it better

Katniss murmurs softly in her sleep into your neck, words incoherent. One of her hands grasps at the fabric of your shirt

You lean your head back a little and move your hands to cup her tranquil face. You press a gentle kiss to her forehead in an attempt to wake her up but she only murmurs softly, eyes fluttering but not opening

You decide to step it up another level and start pebbling gentle kisses all over her face like raindrops, lips pressing against her freckles and scars

Her gray eyes flutter open now, taking a few moments to clear the blur and focus on your face. Her eyebrows soften and she groans softly “Mm?”

You chuckle and ruffle a few locks of her hair. "Morning, pretty."

"Mm... what are you doing?"

Her voice is soft and raspy like leftover honey and she clears her throat in an attempt to rid her tone of the sleepiness but it's pitiful.

"Nothing." You croon. You let out a soft noise of surprise as her arms slip around your neck like snakes and she pulls your head closer to her.

Her lips meet yours in a soft, drowsy kiss, almost as golden as the sun. Her eyes gazed at you lovingly.

"How about pancakes?" You blurt out the second you two pull apart. Your mind was a little hazy from the kiss and the first thing that came to mind was food.

This made Katniss laugh a little. She ran her thumb over your cheek and then settled her head back down on your chest.

"Soon... I wanna lay here a while longer." She murmured.

Her nose nestled into the thin fabric of your shirt and her content sigh tickled your skin. Her eyes fluttered closed but she was awake, just relishing in the beauty of the moment.

Breakfast could wait.

[waywardangel-wilds]

Thinking about this late 40s everlark fic I read and I have never loved something more. Here’s some ideas I have for more late 40s everlark:

Katniss asking Peeta if he’s feeling up for sex and his honest reaction being “yeah, if you give me enough time to take an antacid.”

Peeta when the toastbabies asks for something mama already said no to “idk what y’all are doing here. Mama said no, and no is no.”

Katniss predicting Peeta’s reactions to things so well she just sits to do something else until he’s ready to join her.

Katniss’s hair starting to come in grey and rolling her eyes when people (Effie) say she should just pluck it out.

Peeta staring to wrinkle a bit cause he’s so damn pale while Katniss still looks freaking 28 or something because of her darker complexion.

[millennium-queen]

No because I was so surprised at the amount of people who think Peeta would have pressured Katniss into having kids. Like did they not understand his character at all?? If anything the MOST he would have done is ask her over the years of she felt she was ready, and then backed off when she said no. It's more likely that Katniss could tell that he pined for children by watching him interact with the kids in the district, and others (possibly Haymitch) brought the topic up with her. But Peeta forcing her or guiltily her into it? Never!

HONESTLY!! HONESTLY!!

My personal headcannon is maybe a little controversial lmaoo but I actually think that Peeta wouldn’t be in a rush to have a baby post MJ anyway?

Just like how Katniss has her reservations about having kids because of the trauma that the games inflicted on every aspect of her life, (along with a very disjointed relationship with her own mother) Peeta has his own host of things to work through before I think he’d be ready enough to admit he wants to start a family.

Once he does tho I think he’d only bring it up the once, see she wasn’t on the same page, and then he’d leave it because hey!! he never even dreamed they’d get to where they are now!! Safe!! And in love!! He doesn’t need kids to be happy he just needs her!!

So in my head it’s Katniss who starts the first real conversation about having kids once she sees just how sweet and kind he is to the little ones coming into the bakery with their parents and even then I think he’d probably drive her insane just double and triple checking that she actually wants this?? And it’s real?? They can try for a baby??

This whole idea that he would pressure her is just Peeta slander!! plain and simple!! lmaoo

[pidgeispunk]

Hello dear friends! ❤🤍🖤💚

🍉I am Mahmoud Ayyad, a Palestinian from the besieged and destroyed Gaza 😭😭, coming from an extended family of young children, women and elderly people ❤❤ who have been suffering😭😭 for 300 difficult days from an aggressive war.

Our lives are harsh because we lack all the basic necessities of life. Everything has become scarce and unattainable. There is no food, no water, no medicine.

So, I ask you to help me keep my family safe and alive, especially after we had lost all our sources of livelihood.Please do not leave my family to struggle and suffer these difficult days alone. You can support my campaign by donating whatever you can or by sharing my posts to reach others who can help us survive the war to safety and peace. You are helping the lives of many people with your small contribution. Every donation makes a difference in our very difficult lives. But this is a legitimate campaign and has been checked by 90-ghost.

https://gofund.me/31c5cbe3

DO NOT SCROLL.

if you can make any donation to this gofundme — even if it’s spare change or a couple of bucks — i urge you please please please send anything you are comfortable with. i have just donated 5 british pounds and am sure it will make something of a difference. nothing is too small in these circumstances. thank you so much for reaching out to me and sharing this message and link, i hope whoever is reading this will have a good heart to at least re-blog or share this post. thank you whomever you are for reading.

[papawolfcg]

*Cg headcannons your blorbos*

[fallingskiesandrisingseas]

Been thinking about the set up of the Quarter Quell in Catching Fire, and something bothered me.

We have been told multiple times that the system to reap tributes isn't fair.

In the Career districts, the tributes are handpicked, chosen by their mentor based on skill and likability. They also tend to choose older tributes, as they have a higher chance of winning.

In the non-Career districts, Tesserae make sure that it is the poorest members of society that end up being reaped the most. More tickets in the bowl in order to gain a year's supply grain and oil is an offer that children like Katniss and Gale simply cannot refuse. And other systems are downright noted to be suspicious, like 11. The district is far too large for the tributes to be reaped from a bowl. Something more sinister might be going on.

These two systems are not iron-clad, however. In District 4, presumably a Career District, Finnick is chosen at the age of 14, which would imply that his teachers wanted to get rid of him or genuinly believed he would be able to win at 14. And in District 12, Prim is reaped, despite her name only being in the bowl once.

Then the Third Quarter Quell rolls around, and suddenly there are many victors reaped that don't agree with the methods of the Capitol, who are angry, who become or are already part of the revolution.

Beetee, Wiress, Finnick, Mags, Peeta, Chaff, Seeder, Gloss, Cashmere, Katniss, the Morphlings, Johanna, Blight, Celia, Woof; all part of the revolution.

Now, we are told that the Careers win it almost every year. We are told that they have the deepest pool of victors.

So why do they send in four people that absolutely do not want to be there?

Finnick, Mags, Gloss an d Cashmere all express discomfort at the idea of being in another games. They all express anger. And Annie was so traumatized by it that she doesn't want to go back ever.

But without Mags volunteering, it'd be Annie and Finnick, Gloss and Cashmere. Two pairs of people who do not under any circumstances want to kill each other.

There must be others, right? From how much prestige the Games have in the Career districts, certainly there are people dreaming of the chance to win it twice?

Or they all find out how life really is after all the trauma they went through and decide not to volunteer. The brainwashing comes off ( like veterans returning from war ).

Still, it is strange that those four get picked in that setup.

And Peeta and Katniss obviously are a part of the rebellion.

But Chaff and Seeder are a part of it too. Strong people from the largest district. As are Beetee and Wiress, perhaps the smartest tributes. Real assets for a revolution. We might need to kill them off....

What I am saying is that, if Snow can help it, he is sending in the people he wants dead the most. We know the Third Quarter Quell is a ploy to hopefully kill Peeta or Haymitch and Katniss, but it might also prove very useful to take out the tributes that are thinking about revolutionizing against the Capitol.

Killers.

Geniuses.

Men and women with a personal grudge against Snow and the willingness and ability to do damage, to make that grudge mean something.

I'm saying the Third Quarter Quell is a way to kill of clever people capable of violence who are revered in their communities, seen as beacons of hope, as leaders. That it is rigged to take out those most likely to revolt against the regime. That it leaves those who are no threat alone to take down those who are.

The Third Quarter Quell is meant to cull the heard. To make sure the revolution dies, to take out the officers, the front men. And the fact that it kills some people uninvolved? ( District 5, District 10, District 8? ). Too bad.

Funnily enough, despite nearly everyone listed dying, Snow accomplishes the opposite. Total war against the districts. He doesn't slow down the revolution: he speeds it up.

But we need to give him credit for having the skill to strike first. To sense the revolution. To try and nip it in the bud.

Shame he was focussed on Katniss and didn't see Coin. His rage killed him, in the end. His hatred, his obsession with Katniss. His blindness to the growing power of District 13.

Of course, it can also be that the Victors from other districts just happen to be those that are still alive.

There are only 74 Hunger Games, with 75 victors. Assuming the first 25 are dead minus Mags and Woof, there are only 50 Games for 20 spots.

But still...

Snow is cunning, and the fact that so many young and dangerous people end up in the Games ( generally tributes are below 40 ) speaks to his desire to get rid of those that do not serve him. This is also evidenced by the fact that Enobaria survives, and is treated well.

Kill disgruntled Careers and other dangerous elements. Kill either Haymitch or Peeta and Katniss. Let Brutus / Enobaria win the Games.

Rig the system. Protect the Capitol. Remain in power.