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Can you do a part 2 to altered? I would love a long part 2. I’m curious to how you would move forward with the story.

to be honest, probably not. i struggle a lot with continuing storylines, which is why everything i write is so short 😭 butttt if you want something specific that’s related def ask and i’ll deliver!

[queuestarter]

HUNGER GAMES TWEETS #13

richie posting more of these after a year of nothing thg related??? more likely than you think!!

[queuestarter]

altered

(finnick odair x reader)

link to the request → pregnant reader in the quarter quell

Hearing your name get called for the games a second time was probably the second worst moment of your life.

The worst being when your name lingered in the air and no one volunteered to take your place even though you were seven months pregnant.

You can’t blame them- if you were in their position you wouldn’t volunteer either. It didn’t make it hurt any less, especially when Finnick’s name was called after yours.

And here you are now, in the arena. One hand cradles your belly, the other holding tightly onto a spear while you survey your surroundings for enemies. Finnick is behind you, wound up more tightly than you’ve ever seen him in your life.

You can’t help but feel bad for him- he’s facing losing his girlfriend and his baby when just weeks ago you two were living in complete bliss.

“How is he?” Finnick asks quietly, though you know the cameras and hidden microphones will be able to pick up on his words. 

When you appeared on Caesar Flickerman’s stage, pregnant belly on display, the audience was shocked and appalled. You have the feeling now, however, those same audience members are giddy wanting to know what your fate will be.

As far as they know, there can only be one survivor in these games.

“All good,” you hum, rubbing a hand over your bump. “All is fine.”

You turn around to look at Finnick only to see him with a deep frown on his face. “Good. We just need to find Johanna. She should be with Wiress and Beetee.”

You nod. The original plan was for you to separate off by yourself, but Finnick vehemently opposed that idea. You tried to remind him that you won your games before, that you’ve taken down nearly a dozen people on your own in the bloodiest battle at the Cornucopia that Panem has ever seen, but he didn’t want to hear it.

So now you’re hiding in the jungle, waiting for the rest of your alliance to arrive.

“Sounds good to me. I think I’m gonna sit for a minute- my back hurts,” you say easily. You can’t complain or else Finnick will actually lose his mind and tear down the arena piece by piece.

You would love to see that, but you know it’s not conducive to the plan.

As predicted, Finnick is all over you, touching you everywhere he can get his hands on. “Sit, lovely. I’ll keep an eye out for us.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “I can take care of myself.”

Finnick’s large hand rests on top of your large bump. “And I’m taking care of you and my baby.”

You lean back into him and close your eyes for one single second. You tell yourself you shouldn’t let your guard down, even with Finnick watching over you, but it’s so hard not to.

“We’re going to need to go back to the Cornucopia at some point,” you gently remind your lover.

“And you’ll stay safely away from anything that’s happening, my love,” he says, leaving no room for argument.

He’s softer now, more calm about you being in the games again than he was just a few weeks ago. It’s almost hard to imagine that your Finnick was tearing up your living room and threatening past victors and now here he is, gently rubbing circles onto your skin.

Now that you know there’s a future for the two of you somewhere where the elite of Panem can’t hurt you, it makes life a little bit easier.

-

[queuestarter]

I loved one were she gave birth i was wondering if you can do one were reader goes into the games pregnant and im not talking about like 2 weeks pregnant im talking about 8 months sort of im curious to see how Finnick would play it out

done!

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Idek we’re all depressed

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i loved it your last johanna fanfic 😭😭😭 could you write more of johanna x distric 3 reader? maybe them on district 13 after the rescue and reader is helping beetee with the stuff

Done and surprisingly cute!

[queuestarter]

together

(johanna mason x reader)

link to the request → a moment in district 3 reader and johanna mason's life together while in district 13

open to requests !!

You sit with your tongue pointing out of your mouth in concentration. A blueprint sits in front of you and it takes a lot of concentration to figure out what changes you want to make to it.

“As you can see, the difficulty is timing every single one to go off at the same time. Assuming that they fall at the same rate with mild wind resistance, we need to…” Beetee trails on, but you tune him out. You let him work on the logistics as you continue to figure out what metal would be best for the project. “... a lightweight metal would provide the best chances at success.”

“If we use a lightweight metal, we have the benefit of easy deployment, lighter loads on the carriers, and ease of creation. But the downside is when they drop, the lack of density could cause them to go off course if there is even some amount of wind,” you interject. 

Beetee nods. “Right you are. But we have an abundance of aluminum at our disposal. The inside components will provide enough heft to keep them in line.”

You rub at the crease that is forming along your forehead. “I finished the blueprint and the prototype. We just need the casing to be finalized and we can run the trial.”

Beetee wheels himself closer to you and pats at your hand. “Thank you,” he whispers. “You know…”

You cut him off. “I know. I would design a million bombs a million times over if you needed it.”

He smiles at you wetly before wheeling away to the other side of the room. You say nothing, letting him go. A sudden bang on the metal doors of the weapons room pulls you from your thoughts.

Knowing who it must be, you smile lightly and open the door. Johanna stands in front of you, arms crossed over her chest and a deep scowl on her face. 

You love her so much it’s not even funny.

“Don’t you look happy to see me?” You ask with a breathy giggle, wanting to wrap her up but not wanting to cross any boundaries.

“Got bored with everyone else. You were my only option,” she says. Her words are negative, but the pucker of her lips lets you know what she really wants.

You lean forward and press your lips to hers, a sigh instantly leaving you. “Mhm,” you moan against her. “Missed you today.”

“I saw you at lunch like two hours ago. You’re so needy.” Johanna bites her lips, letting you know that she’s joking. She’s been like that since you’ve met her, but since she was abducted, it’s gotten worse.

Nothing that you can’t handle, though.

“Want to come in? We’re making bombs,” you offer, though you know she’ll reject you.

“No,” she sighs. “I just wanted a kiss before I’m forced to hang out with Katniss for the rest of the day.”

You laugh. “If you’re good, I’ll sneak into your room tonight.”

Johanna straightens her posture. “Yes, ma’am.”

You let out an exaggerated groan. “Don’t say that, you know how much it turns me on.”

She shoves your shoulder and walks away from you quickly. “Fuck you!”

“Love you too, lovely!” You shout at her treating form before stepping back inside the war room.

-

[queuestarter]

you are SUCH a talented writer!! loving ur finn fics so much 😽😽

thank youuuu! def more coming soon

[queuestarter]

can you oh so kindly write about the reader and finnick during the quarter quell and him helping her get all of the blood off of her from the blood rain but he has to unzip her suit (which leaves her in her undergarments)? thanks!

done!

[queuestarter]

bare

(finnick odair x reader)

cw: blood

link to the request → reader's clothes get ruined after the blood rain and finnick helps her rinse them

open to requests !!

You can hardly see as you stumble out from the dense jungle, Johanna mere feet behind you.

“Fuck,” you groan, spitting out a mouthful of thick, hot liquid. “What is this shit?”

“Blood,” Johanna says, coughing behind you. You can’t see her, but you can hear the aggravation in her voice. “We just got covered in blood.”

You feel arms wrap around you and you start to fight back on instinct. “Calm down,” the person holding you says. “It’s just me.”

Finnick.

You turn around in his arms, not caring that you’re spreading the blood from the jungle all over him. You haven’t seen him since you were on the pedestals and all of the emotions that you’ve been forced to hold in since then rush out. “Finn,” you cry, tears clearing a pathway on your red cheeks. “I’m dirty.”

You wipe your eyes in time to barely make out Johanna making her way towards the ocean and you instinctively follow her. The outfit that you’re wearing is waterproof, but the blood has seeped through it somehow, leaving every part of you stained with blood.

Finnick follows you to the water, gently guiding you past the lightly lapping waves.”I’m so dirty, I need to clean off.”

“Let me help you, love,” Finnick says, gently unzipping your suit and exposing your skin. “Let’s get a little deeper, okay?”

You nod and step further into the tide. You don’t like the ocean, and being from District 3 you can’t swim. But the presence of Finnick’s hand on your waist anchors you and makes you feel safe.

You first use the salty water to clear your vision fully and the first thing you see is Finnick staring down at you, worriedly. “None of this is mine,” you assure him. “It just started pouring on us. I thought I was going to choke on it.”

Finnick says nothing, just continues to rinse off the blood from your upper body. “I have to take the rest off, my love.”

You nod and grab onto his shoulders as he takes off the rest of the suit. You’re left in a sports bra and underwear, leaving you a little bit uncomfortable that you’re going to be half naked in front of the entirety of Panem. The abundance of scars from your games are displayed to the cameras, showing off the torture that you’ve had to go through.

Once all of the blood has been washed away, you step out of the ocean. You can’t put the jumpsuit back on because it still has to dry out. You frown and wrap your arms around yourself protectively, knowing there are cameras all over displaying you to the world.

“You’re gorgeous,” Finnick whispers, pulling you close to him. “We’ll be out of here soon enough.”

You press a kiss to his jawline and sigh, making your way over to the rest of the victors that Finnick has collected over the course of the day.

You’ll be out of here soon enough.

-

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envious

(johanna mason x reader)

link to the request → johanna getting jealous of others flirting with reader

open to requests !!

Attention is something that comes to you easily.

It’s just one of those things, really. It’s probably a contributing reason as to why you won your games.

You can’t help the way people seem to gravitate towards you, even those who shouldn’t.

There’s practically a crowd behind you as you rack up a sword you were using to train with. Gloss, an old friend at this point, is practically on top of your back as you walk away from the station. 

Always astute, you feel a gaze lingering on you from across the room. As expected, Johanna Mason is watching you from across the room, white-knuckling an axe.

You send a grin her way and a wiggle of your fingers before walking over to one of the less populated booths- a man waits there to teach about how to bait a fishing rod with worms. It’s not something you’ve ever done in District 3, so you’re more than willing to try it out.

Four other victors join you.

As you're attempting to mimic the instructor, Gloss reaches over and wraps his hand around yours, guiding the worm properly onto the hook. You turn your head with a smile of appreciation, but before you can even get a word out, someone else rips Gloss away from you.

“Fuck off, Gloss,” a feminine voice says. The smile on your face turns into a knowing smirk that you hide in your shoulder. 

“Johanna!” You say in mock surprise. “Don’t be so rude!”

You rub Gloss’ shoulder in apology, which he swiftly brushes off with a smile. You say a small goodbye to the victors and a thank you to the instructor before getting up and walking over to the far wall of the room.

You don’t have to turn back to know Johanna is following. 

“You can’t scare people off like that, J,” You sing-song, leaning against the wall. She crowds into you but you don’t mind the lack of space. 

“I wouldn’t have to if you had some boundaries.”

You laugh, small and trite. “Cute. But if I remember correctly, you’re the one who rejected me. You don’t get to-”

You’re cut off by the firm press of lips against your own. The kiss doesn’t last long, however, because your ever-present smile causes it to naturally come to an end. “Oh,” you sigh in wonder. “I guess Finnick was right- you do like me.”

Johanna frowns. “That’s all you have to say?”

That is all you have to say. Without wasting a second, you press your lips to hers once more.

-

[queuestarter]

Johanna Mason x Fem!reader where Johanna is getting extremely jealous of people staring at r, they aren’t dating but have mutual feelings for each other. Then Johanna will angrily kiss R and R will say like “oh so Finnick wasn’t kidding you do like” (kinda sunshine x black cat plz) BTW I LOVE YOUR JOHANNA FICS YOURE AN AWESOME WRITERRER!

Answered! Linked here

[queuestarter]

vigil

(finnick odair x reader)

link to the request → finnick soothing insomniac reader

open to requests !!

The glow of the moon mesmerizes you from where you sit on the floor balcony of the hotel room you’re in. 

You’re not sure what time it is anymore, but you know it’s late. The mug of tea next to you has long since dried up, a brown stain that can hardly be seen in the dark all that remains.

A million thoughts pass through your mind, overlapping and never letting one fully form. You think of what you need to do in the morning- return home to District 3. You should also probably stop in and see Beetee to check and see if he needs help with his latest project. The mere thought of Beetee makes you think of when he was your mentor back in the day and how his guidance helped you to win.

Like always, your late night thoughts turn into horror filled flashbacks of the games you were made to play when you were only sixteen years old.

A breeze passes over you and you wrap the cardigan you’re wearing tighter over your shoulders.

“So that’s where that old thing went,” you hear over your shoulder, snapping you from your own mind.

You don’t turn back but you know a pair of familiar hands will work themselves over your tight shoulders in an attempt to soothe. It happens almost every night, but the feeling of fingers working out the knot at the base of your neck makes you smile and lean your cheek into the chest of the man that has settled in behind you.

“I’m pretty sure this is mine,” you whisper, though there is no need. There’s no one else awake right now besides you and your love.

“That’s what you say about everything,” Finnick chides, working his hands from your shoulders to your waist before wrapping you up altogether. “It’s been two years of it and I’m still not used to it.”

You sigh, more in amazement than anything. Any thought that was previously plaguing you leaves your mind entirely. “Two years, wow.”

You can feel Finnick nod against your neck. “Two years since I had to practically fight Beetee off with a stick to let me love you.”

You roll your eyes lovingly. “He’s just protective, Finn.”

Finnick snorts but doesn’t say anything. He repositions himself, foot tapping against your empty tea mug. You watch in slight amusement as it slips under the guard rail and careens to the pavement below.

“Wouldn’t it be messed up if that hit someone?” You ask with a slight laugh. 

“Maybe that’s what I was aiming for.”

You don’t respond, choosing to continue to look at the built-up landscape of the Capitol. It’s so different from home, but almost as familiar at this point. It’s held your attention for hours at this point, helping to keep your mind imprisoned by the implication of what those buildings mean for you.

“Are you ready for bed now, my love?” Finnick asks, pressing himself impossibly closer.

“A few more minutes,” you manage to get out. “I just want to look some more.”

“A few more minutes,” he promises back.

-

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finnick & insomniac!reader (as an insomniac myself this is absolutely self indulgent 😭)

done! took way longer than it should have but i finally felt inspired to write again!

[queuestarter]

(hesitantly) i’m gonna answer at least some of the asks in my inbox! lmk what yall want to see im open to requests atp

[queuestarter]

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧

senator!coriolanus snow x personal assistant fem!reader

cw// nothing! just some cute shorter fluff for a trope i adore

Coriolanus should start taking the amount of sticky notes you left around for him out of your paycheck. He contemplated that idea when he found another two on his desk that morning. You were often the first one into the office, a fact he was particularly proud of when other senators complained that their assistants weren’t working. You knew the way he preferred his papers sorted when he came in, and you always were sure to have his coffee sitting for ten minutes before he arrived, leaving it the perfect temperature for his first sip. Coriolanus thought about your relationship often; there was a certain domesticity to it. You knew him better than nearly anyone, and he desired to know you better despite knowing it could be inappropriate to ask the questions he wanted to. 

Your copy of yesterday’s meeting notes is being printed. A note on top of his stack of reports to read through.

Good morning, sir. A second note next to his coffee cup. Something akin to a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he took the note into his hand, thumb rubbing over the dried ink before tucking it into a box in his desk. The box was nearly full of small notes; he’d have to get another. The coffee cup warmed his hand as he turned to look out the window, sipping in peaceful silence as the first sprinkles of spring rain set in over the Capital. The snow had cleared out early this year and had been replaced with a terrible chill and rain, but the sun returned when he turned to the sound of the door opening.

“Good morning, sir. Your meeting notes as promised. They’d have been here earlier if the new intern hadn’t tried to break the printer last night. I nearly broke my hand trying to unjam it,” you said as you set down the stack of papers precisely in the corner of his desk. He appreciated how much you respected his order of things.

“I assume your hand is intact?” 

“Yes, thank you. Your lunch with the Secretary of Communications is today, and you have a call with the Head Gamemaker at three. Besides that, I’ve tried to give you time to catch up on reports.” He nodded in response, taking in the sight of your winter clothes with a soft look in his eyes. 

“Thank you. Please ensure you get to lunch today. I would prefer not to find my assistant on the floor when she forgets to eat.” You smiled with a firm nod in return.

“Of course, sir. I’ll be outside if you need me.” A small part of him hated watching you walk away, the same part of him that he forced himself to ignore so fiercely. He noticed the color of your skirt, a deep red, and a part of him wondered if you matched his signature jacket on purpose. It wasn’t entirely unlikely; you often had something red on since your first week, and he knew it couldn’t have been a coincidence. 

When he left for lunch, he found your desk empty and a single note left atop your keyboard.

Enjoy your lunch. I’ll be here when you return. He picked up the note to tuck safely into his jacket pocket, another for his collection. He hadn’t realized how protective he’d be of your notes when you started working for him a year ago, but when he couldn’t find the heart to throw them away, it became a growing issue for the space in his desk. You’d never know, but the note you’d left him on your first day was framed and pristine in the back of one of his drawers. Maybe one day, he’d get the courage to display it on his shelf. 

As promised, you were there when he returned and greeted him with a smile that he swore lit up the room. 

“Good afternoon, sir. How was lunch?” your voice was gentle and caring, a comfort unlike anything he’d heard before.

“Productive. His assistant will be reaching out to set another next month. How was your lunch?” He did his best to ask about you even on his busiest days, and how your eyes shined when he did always made it worth it. You told him about the cafe you stopped into during your break from the office with the same smile that took the breath out of his lungs. 

“Their coffee is quite good as well. Perhaps I could bring you one tomorrow to see if you’d like it over the cafe I’ve been getting your coffee from recently.” There it was again. The care you showed him from the first day you entered the office, never once thinking of anyone else there but him. You were a shark when you wanted to be for him, ready to rearrange anyone else’s schedule for his benefit. But to him, you were nothing more than the perfect kind girl he couldn’t help but be grateful for hiring every day. He enjoyed the fire in your eyes when you’d ramble about one of the interns getting in the way of your job and when you triumphantly announced the success of a hard-to-plan meeting. He was entirely infatuated with you, frowned upon or not. 

His call with the Head Gamemaker ran later than expected, the sun setting in the background from the conference room he had stepped into with another senator to discuss plans for the following year’s games. When he came back to your desk empty, a certain melancholy settled deep in his chest. No note was left for him, an uncommon occurrence, and a slight frown pulled on his features before he stepped into his office to finish the day. He wasn’t upset at you; he had nearly forced you to leave the office on time plenty of times. But a voice in his head still begged you to be there when he was. 

A small box sat on his desk, centered perfectly amongst the papers you had clearly straightened for him before leaving. Tied together with a red bow, he sat down to inspect it closer. He imagined your hands tying it so neatly together, and his fingers brushed against the ribbon as if it could cure the ache in his chest that longed to touch your skin. Undoing the ribbon and setting it aside, he relished in the smile that washed over his face. A sticky note stared up at him from where he had taken off the top of the box.

Happy birthday, Mr. Snow. I hope you had a good day. I’ll see you tomorrow. You hadn’t spoken a word about the day. You were perfectly familiar with his disdain for celebration and refrained from the theatrics you knew would drive him crazy. But when you scouted out the new cafe at lunch, you couldn’t help purchasing one small cupcake, knowing he would never indulge in a whole slice of cake. Lightly iced and small enough for him not to deny the sweet treat, he tore off a piece of the cake and imagined your excitement in leaving the gift for him before you left. 

You didn’t have to voice how much you cared for him. It was clear as day, and it was something he swore never to take for granted.

[queuestarter]

i like to live in an imaginary world where Peeta and Johanna communicate through sporadic and sometimes incomprehensible voicemails.

Like, once, Katniss overheard one where it was just strong wind sounds, Johanna shouting "THE PIGS HAVE FALLEN" over and over again and somehow it was about a dumb inside joke related to inter-district train fare.

Sometimes Peeta will actively wait until an ungodly hour, dial the number, and like just sing a drinking song and hang up. When Katniss looks at him like ??? he's like, she'll know what I mean.

I just have decided that their friendship is unique, incapable of being understood/translated, and long-lasting. The end. TED talk over.