#and peeta Goes Through It too but hes there!!!!!!!! hes always there and hes kind and artistic and peaceful and good and everything that

[trobeds]

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

[jaegerbroshoe]

Gale refusing the gloves when he thinks they’re Peeta’s but then taking them back when Katniss says they were Cinna’s… ABSOLUTE TRASH.

[warrenposts]

You know what would have been a great ending for Finnick?

The mutts viciously attack him in the sewers. It looks like he's not gonna make it, but Katniss and Peeta refuse to leave him behind.

He's done so much to save them and look out for them and they know what happens to people who are left behind. But GALE (FUCKING GALE) goes all soldier and shuts the door on him, claiming he's too far gone.

Then, either during the bombing or slightly before they're arguing with Gale. Peeta looks like himself again, kind and determined to save his friends. It's familiar to Katniss. As they argue, they see a man hole cover open and who emerges bloody and battered? Finnick.

OR they find him at Snows mansion because the Mutts didn't kill him. They dragged him back all the way through the sewers to return Snows Toy.

Finnick is alive but BADLY scarred. On his chest, arms, face. Maybe even missing a finger or two. One of his eyes has gone a little cloudy and a streak of his hair haa turned a platnium white from the fear and trauma.

Finally, they're all safe. Haymitch makes a joke about "what's it like not being pretty anymore? No better than the rest of us."

Katniss later apologisea for this joke but Finnick tells her he's right.

"My body has never been my own. The capital had always had final say. They took away every scar and blemish. All the nicks I'd ever gotten from learning how to make hooks. Every callous in my hands, every scratch they left down my back.

I know it's bad, people can't stop staring at me, but hey, I'm used to that, right?... I was afraid of what Annie might think, but I know she still loves me. And if looking like this means that she's the only person who will ever want to touch me again, then it's a blessing.

We're free, Katniss."

I think Finnick having his "beauty taken away" by scars and wounds is something he would find so comforting. His beauty had been a curse, but now he has agency again.

[triassictriserratops]

checking in to say I’m such a sucker for Katniss and Peeta discussing their mommy issues once they’re together again. I once saw a post pointing out that they’re the only ones in the series with that kind of trauma and it made so much sense to me why they easily bonded with each other. Just imagine them finally being able to discuss how unsafe they felt even before the games and realize that they have someone in their family who understands that problem and doesn’t make it feel that way. Katniss and Peeta have always been tender with each other but I fear it only gets worse the more they share and get close

we joke a lot about how THG is what Katniss would write about her experiences in the games and war. (Explaining her, frankly, INSANE odes to Peeta's eyelashes.) but also? we're sleeping on the idea that Katniss writes a book absolutely trashing Peeta's mom. It's gonna be a fucking BESTSELLER. I actually have an advanced reader copy, here, lemme show you:

(Note, i spent like 4 hours making this absolutely garbage fucking cover, please validate me. My feelings gland needs this.) I also have this idea that while Katniss does come to understand her mother better by the end of the book - a relationship, a GOOD relationship, with the two of them - it's just going to take time. In that time, maybe Peeta helps to bridge the gap. He does weekly check-ins with Katniss' mom. Telling her how Katniss is doing but also answering her questions about how HE'S doing. And he realizes how...nice it is for a mom to want to know how his day was or be proud of his accomplishments. It's not a replacement for what he should have had, but it's nicer than what he ever got. His relationship with his family is gone. That's it. There will never be any hope of it ever getting better. But Katniss DOES have her mom and he wants to help them. And, from the conversations and tears they've shared about this, he knows she wants it too. So he starts by suggesting that Katniss' mom go through her own therapy to be able to come to terms with her grief and the consequences of what that grief did to her relationships with her living family. He puts her in touch with Dr. Aurelius who gives him a referral to someone in 4 that works in grief and family counseling. And it's not easy. Not by any means. Not for anyone. But in time, years, decades - the bonds of family are strengthened. They're never perfect, you can't fix the past, of course. But the pains are acknowledged on both sides. Their new relationship is hard-earned and exactly what they both need of each other. 15 years down the line, Mrs. Everdeen gets to push the hair out of her daughters eyes while she delivers her first grandbaby. She gets to watch her baby look in awe, and wonderment at her own baby. She gets to watch her family grow a little bigger and a little stronger. Later, when Peeta makes sure both Katniss and baby are safe and sleeping, he goes over to Mrs. Everdeen and hugs her tightly. "Thanks for being here for us, Ma."

[lemonluvgirl]

PROMPT REQUEST!! ❤️❤️

[Post-mj, growing back together]

katniss goes down on peeta for the first time?? Bonus if she asks advice from johanna beforehand and johanna being johanna, goes into explicit detail causing katniss to panic HAHAHA LOVE YOUR WORK ❤️❤️❤️

bonus pt. 2, if Peeta returns the favor 😏

Alright anon. I’ve been working on this all week. So I hope you like it. Also this song I Was Born to Love You  by Ray LaMontagne was the track I picked for this fic. The lyrics: 

You’re the only one I can talk to  The only one I can really read  I know you give because you want to Don’t you think its time to let yourself receive? 

really resonated with me when I was writing this story. 

The Only Opinion That Matters

"And then what?" Katniss asked in a choked whisper.

"Well, once it's in your mouth there are only a few things to worry about. First of all, try not to choke. You don't want to take too much at once, especially on your first try. Just fit however much feels comfortable in your mouth. Remember to leave a little room for thrusting. He may get excited if it feels really good. If that happens, and it's too much for you, pull back a little and use your hand to cover the rest. Use a rhythm you already know he likes in tandem with bobbing your mouth up and down. It's basically like giving him a hand job while using your mouth to stimulate the head of his penis. You've jacked him off before right?" Johanns asked very matter of factly.

Katniss felt like her face was turning scarlet at Johanna’s words. She probably looked like a bright red beacon broadcasting her embarrassment to the world. She cringed self consciously even though she was alone in her kitchen and Johanna couldn’t see her over the phone. This conversation was seriously testing her comfort limits. And yet, she had to finish it. There was literally no one else she could ask about this kind of thing.

"Yeah, I've um," Katniss couldn't quite bring herself to use Johanna's crass name for the method she had been using to bring Peeta pleasure lately, "used my hand on him before." Katniss finished, thinking about how she had just used her hand on him this morning, and he had said thank you by using his mouth on her. Twice.

That was Peeta for you though, always giving twice as much and never really asking for anything in return.

It made Katniss feel, well not exactly guilty. More like his selflessness spurred her to forget her own insecurities and focus on how much she wanted to give back to him the same kind of pleasure he gave to her on a regular basis. Her only problem was her lack of knowledge and experience. Hence, the call to Johanna.

"Then you already know how to work that aspect. Just keep a steady rhythm. Remember to breathe through your nose. If you’re feeling confident and you already know he likes to have his balls played with, or his ass grabbed while getting stroked then try adding that in as well. But whatever you do, don't use your teeth! Most guys don't like it, and even if they do it's got to be done with a very light touch, and only someone with a fair amount of experience can usually pull something like that off. So stick to using your tongue, hands, and some moderate suction. Right now your main objective is simply to cover the basics." Johanna advised.

"But what if he wants something exciting instead of basic and-" Katniss asked in a nervous voice.

"Brainless, he's probably gonna lose his shit three minutes in. If he can last that long. No need to get fancy. Trust me. Just pay attention to his cues."

"Cues?"

"Cues, tells, signals, you know the things he does when he's about to come."

Katniss thought for a moment about the way Peeta's breathing changed, the way he tilted his hips, and made little noises every time he got close to finishing.

"You do know what his tells are, don't you?"

"Of course I do." Katniss bit back a little indignantly. She and Peeta had been slowly but surely progressing further in their intimate relationship for a while now. There was hardly a night where his head didn't end up between her thighs and she didn't stroke him to completion. Many nights it happened more than once. 

Johanna just chuckled at Katniss’ obvious annoyance.

"Well, alright then. Good to know you've started paying attention to the guy, finally. Now there's only one more thing we need to cover."

"What's that?" Katniss bit back angrily, growing more frustrated because of Johanna’s subtle digs. 

"The finale, of course! If you’ve been getting hot and heavy with Loverboy like you said then you ought to know what I'm talking about, Brainless!"

Finale? Katniss wondered to herself, bewildered. She had no idea what Johanna was talking about. The only finale she could think of was the showdown between the final two competitors in The Hunger Games. Which was not something that she wanted to remind Peet of while they were...

At her prolonged silence, Johanna started snickering and then she started talking again.

"You know, the end of the night fireworks, the volcanic eruption, the bursting of the dam...” 

“I think I-” Katniss tried to interrupt but Joahnna just spoke over her.

“The explosion at the yogurt factory, the erection ejection, the-” 

“I GET IT JOHANNA!” Katniss’ shouted indignantly. It was immediately followed by loud cackles coming from the other side of the phone line. 

“Glad to know you’re up to date on the lingo, Brainless. But tell me this, have you decided what you want to do with said finale when the time comes?” 

“What do you mean? Like swallow it or something?” Kantiss asked, voice barely above a whisper, and extremely nervous and strained sounding. She knew some people did that. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to try it. The thought kind of terrified her.

“Swallow, spit it out, pull back and let him come on your tits or stomach, the possibilities are many.” Johanna replied with a lazy sounding hum.

Katniss was positive she could actually hear Johanna grinning at her discomfort over the phone. 

“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, actually.” Katniss admitted. It was enough for her to juggle the logistics of all the things she was supposed to do to get Peeta to orgasm.

“Well, you should really think about it. It could happen pretty fast….. Anyway, I’d better let you go. I’m expecting a call from my head doctor at 2, so...” 

“Yeah, of course. Sorry to keep you-and thanks again, for all your....help.” Katniss replied. She cringed again at how awkward she sounded, like she had just thanked Johanna for lending her a book or something benign like that. 

“No problem, and Katniss?” The teasing tone suddenly left Johanna’s voice and Katniss waited breathlessly for whatever she said next. 

“He’s crazy about you, and he’s going to love this.” Johanna said so sincerely that Katniss was caught off guard for a moment, but then Joahnna had to go and ruin it by adding, “So even if you screw up, and don't get him off he’s still gonna think the sun shines outta your ass, no matter what.” Johanna finished with a loud belly laugh and Katniss groused at her to shut up. She reluctantly thanked her again, in a grudging tone and promised to call back tomorrow and fill her in on the results. It had been the price Johanna had enacted for all her ‘help’. 

The call clicked, and ended and Katniss was left alone in the kitchen with her thoughts. 

She mentally went over Johanna’s checklist in her head a few times, after she ran through the instructions on how to get things started there was nothing else to do but shower and wait for Peeta to come home. 

~

Peeta returned home promptly at 5:30, as usual. He washed up and they had a light dinner while discussing their respective days. Katniss left out her phone call to Johanna, because she wanted to surprise Peeta later. 

After working on the plantbook for a bit, Katniss felt anxious. She wasn't able to concentrate properly so she feigned being tired and suggested they retire to bed early. Peeta lifted one of his eyebrows in surprise, clearly not buying her over dramatic yawn, but he followed her up the stairs just the same. 

Once inside the bedroom Katniss had to get a hold of her nerves. She allowed Peeta to use the bathroom first, and scurried to her closet to take a deep breath. She tried not to think of all the many ways this could go wrong, and instead focused on finding what Johanna had called a ‘mood setting outfit’. 

There were an array of possibilities, her closet was literally still stuffed with clothes that Cinna had made for her before he--

Katniss shook her head to clear it of melancholy thoughts. She had spent many a day mourning Cinna and his prodigious talent for creating things of beauty with needle and thread. She and Peeta had vowed not to wallow in grief and instead to remember and treasure the good memories and beautiful things left behind by the ones they had lost. 

Cinna had no doubt come to the conclusion that one day she would wake up and realize that she loved and wanted Peeta just as much as he did her, and he had diligently crafted several beautiful night gowns with more than just comfortable sleep in mind. But those Katniss felt had always been meant to be used on their honeymoon. It just didn’t feel right to use them now. 

Maybe someday, if Peeta ever decided to ask her again, for real....

Focus! Katniss told herself sternly, as she recalled Johannah’s advice. 

Since you’re not the type to casually tell a guy to drop his pants, you’ll have to get your intentions across some other way. It could be as simple as giving him a certain look, or even wearing something sexy to bed.

While Katniss wished she knew just what look to give Peeta to communicate her desires wordlessly, she knew she just wasn’t that good. Yet. 

So she cast around for ideas until her eyes landed on a shirt that lay on the floor of the closet, near the hamper. It was a plain white shirt that belonged to Peeta, that he often wore around the house and to sleep in. It was a piece of clothing that she often borrowed from him in the morning when she couldn’t find her own clothes and was too lazy to go hunting for them behind the bed.  

It was large and soft and comfortable. Plus, it smelled like Peeta. Like his skin and his bath soap and the lingering traces of his baking spices. Just heavenly. 

She undressed quickly and took off her slippers. Then she gingerly unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor, and she grabbed the shirt from the hanger and slipped it over her head. Nervousness and excitement flooded her body at the same time and her hand shook a little when she turned the knob to exit the closet. 

She found Peeta in bed. The main overhead light had been turned off and only the bedside lamp was on. Peeta was already reclining atop the sheets and reading a pamphlet about the new laws governing opening small businesses. His chest was gloriously bare and his gray cotton sleep pants hugged his trim hips deliciously. 

Now that the world had changed and she was convinced that she would actually get to keep him after all, she had stopped being so afraid of staring at him. 

She drank in the strong lines of his body. Every part of him was beautiful despite the lines of fire that licked across his body and left behind their mark. Now that he was hers, she could admit that just the sight of him made her want. Deep in her bones, there was something that ached for him in an ancient way that went beyond words, sometimes beyond thoughts. 

She just knew that Peeta belonged with her, to her, and she to him. 

He looked up, as if he sensed her, and Katniss felt her breath catch at the movement. The way his breathtakingly blue eyes roamed up and down her body made her feel a million things at once. 

“I love it when you wear my shirt.” He stated, his eyes catching on the naked skin of her thighs and lingering there before returning to her face. 

“I know,” Katniss replied, more confidently than she felt. She walked towards him slowly, just as Johanna had instructed, to draw out the tension. 

You gotta build the anticipation. Give him a naughty look and then walk over really slowly. Make his head spin with possibilities. Once you've got him thinking about sex you're halfway there.

Katniss heard Johanna's advice playing in her head as she tried to sway her hips seductively with each step. It was a good thing the distance from the closet to the bed was relatively small. 

She managed to make it to the corner of the bed before losing her balance. She covered up her stumble by leaning forward on all fours so she could inch her way towards him. He hadn’t seemed to notice her failed attempt at seductive walking.

Katniss watched as Peeta’s eyes darkened in real time, and his pupils expanded outwards to drink in the sight of her crawling across the bed to him. 

“What are you up to?” Peeta questioned, when she swung one leg over to the other side of his hip and sank down to straddle him. 

“I just wanted to try something.....” Katniss replied evasively, and before he could ask another question she sealed her lips over his and gave him a deep, passionate kiss. 

Peeta moaned into the kiss, his hands reaching out to bracket her hips and pull her down over him. Katniss sighed in relief. 

Kissing Peeta put Katniss at ease. It was something she knew how to do by now very well, and she took some time to revel in the softness of his lips and the tantalizing flicks of his tongue before breaking off and moving in a downwards trajectory. 

She kissed his strong, square jaw and down his neck, lingering for a bit over his pulse and nipping at his ear until she could feel him stirring beneath her. He was half hard by the time she kissed across his collarbone and by the time her mouth reached his stomach he was rocking against her subtly from underneath. 

She looked up at him from under her lashes as her hands moved to pull down the waistband of his pants, and his breath caught. 

She knew the image he was likely seeing was a new and unexpected one. She had helped undress him before, but not in this position, with her mouth so close to his cock. 

“Are you--? I mean do you want to? Katniss?” Peeta’s flustered questions made her cheeks heat, but the desire and hopefulness in his eyes was easy to read. 

Once you start getting each other naked cut the chit chat down to a minimum. When the clothes come off it should be all feeling. Skin on skin, the way he smells and tastes, the way he moans your name. The only conversation required should be some dirty talk. If you're up for it.

Johanna's voice reverberated in her thoughts. Peeta had often used her name when they were in bed together but he'd never said anything explicit or dirty. Katniss wondered if by taking this new step that might change things between them...

She wasn't sure if she was in favor of that or not. She’d never done any of this before but she thought there was a good chance that if it was Peeta who was whispering naughty words to her in the privacy of their bedroom she might enjoy it. 

So in answer to his question, Katniss just bent down and took the elastic band of his underwear in her teeth and proceeded to gently tug them down. 

“Shit, holy shit.” She heard Peeta murmur and his excited, almost disbelieving tone made her chuckle softly. 

With a little help from him, his boxer briefs came off quickly. 

Once he was naked, Katniss sat up and slowly inched his shirt off her body as well, leaving her only in her plain cotton underwear. 

Peeta groaned out loud, and whispered her name like a plea when her breasts came into his field of vision and Katniss smiled a small, secret smile, pleased that something so simple could affect him so deeply. 

But then again, didn’t he have the same effect on her? She looked down at his hard length, thick and swollen with want and she squeezed her thighs together to relieve the ache seeing him erect and ready caused in her. 

She wanted to touch him, taste him, make him feel good. 

But all of Johanna's instruction went out the window the longer she stared at his erection. She forgot how to even start. 

How was she going to get it all in her mouth? And what happened if he thrusted too hard and made her gag? Would she throw up? Something gross like that could traumatize both of them. What if he wanted her to swallow? She didn't think she was ready to do that!

"Uh, Katniss? Where did you just go right now?" Peeta's voice broke her out of her internal spiral.

She looked back up at him, wide eyed and blushing in embarrassment. She hadn't even begun and she had already messed up.

"I'm right here." Was the only thing Katniss could think to say.

Peeta gave her an incredulous look.

"You know you don't have to do this. I don't expect you to go down on me just because I like to go down on you." Peeta told her in a serious voice.

Katniss cringed at the conclusion he had drawn. She obviously had been putting out some kind of signal that had been interpreted as reluctance. She felt terrible.

"That's not it! I really, really want to do this! Not just for you, but for me too!" She cried in frustration.

Peeta eased her off his lower half and sat up then.

"Okay, then talk to me. What's got you so..."

“I just…forgot how to start! I’ve been going over and over what Johanna said to do in my head all night long and I forgot the first part!” Katniss finally admitted, unable to look up from the bedspread to meet Peeta’s gaze. 

“You asked Johanna? For advice about…us?” Peeta’s amused reply ignited fury in her. 

“Because I don’t know how to do any of this…complicated sex stuff!” Katniss spat, and crossed her arms over her breasts. Peeta followed the motions of her arms and his brow furrowed in confusion. He looked momentarily put out by her covering her chest up, but he quickly returned his eyes to her face. 

“Complicated? What’s complicated about it? It's just you and me. It doesn’t matter what we do Katniss, as long as it's just us and it's because it's what we want.” 

“Yeah, you say that but what if I take too much of you in my mouth too quickly and I gag? Or throw up? What if I can’t find a good rhythm or I accidentally scrape you with my teeth?! Johanna said guys hate that!” Katniss argued. 

Peeta got that amused look back on his face. 

“Katniss, if any of those things happen, we’ll deal with them.” 

“But what if I’m not any good or-” Katniss continued pouring out her doubts.

“Katniss.” Peeta said more firmly, as he placed his hand on her forearm. 

“I won’t ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Nothing in our relationship is ever going to be forced or coerced for either of us again. Now, if this is something you actually want to do, we’ll take it one step at a time. You don’t have to worry about impressing anyone. It’s just me and you, and ours is the only opinion that matters.” 

Peeta’s words got through to her, as they always did and suddenly her swirling and confusing thoughts settled and her mind became clear and steady once more. 

“Lay back.” She asked him with a small smile, her confidence returning. 

Peeta looked momentarily surprised. 

“Please,” Katniss added and that seemed to move him. He reclined gently against the pillows and watched as Katniss sat between his thighs. 

She began to kiss the tops of them, her lips tickled by his coarse but nearly invisible leg hair. She reached up to massage his balls gently as she kissed her way up his legs, something she knew he liked from her previous experience exploring his body when she only used her hands. 

When her mouth reached the crease between his hip and groin the earthy, spicy scent of him grew stronger and she flicked out her tongue tentatively to taste him. 

His breath hitched at the tiny wet sensation, so near to where his erection was coming back to life. The closer she got to his cock, the harder he got. Katniss could practically feel the anticipation rolling off him in waves. He was probably imagining what her mouth would feel like on him. She was just as eager to experience it as well. 

She had been wanting to do this for him for a while. 

So when she kissed the last bit of space before she reached the base of him, she pulled back and looked in his eyes, to tell him just that. 

“Peeta, just so you know, I want this. I want to do this for you, and with you. You make me feel so good all the time. So happy, and safe. I just want to give this to you right now, because I want you to feel just a little bit of how happy and alive you make me feel everyday.” Katniss told him, and she only waited a second to register the look of utter adoration he gave her in return before she descended on him, laving her tongue along his length from root to tip. He tasted interesting. The fluid that leaked from his tip was slightly salty, but his skin smelled like his shower soap and that indefinable Peeta-ness that she associated with him alone. He was hot, and hard in her mouth, but his skin was so smooth and silky. She could feel his texture even better on her tongue than when he was in her hand. 

“Oh, fuck.” She heard him say in a shocked but pleasure filled voice when she flicked her tongue out to circle and dance around his head, so she did it again. Then she started exploring.

She licked him, without self consciousness, teasing around the crown of his head, along the path of his veins, in the crevice between his foreskin and his shaft, everywhere. 

Soon he was swearing to a long forgotten creator, and whoever was listening. Then she wrapped her lips around his tip, sealing him in the wet cavern of her mouth and he let out a groan so tortured and full of pleasure that Katniss felt wetness seep out of her body and soak her underwear. 

She hadn’t anticipated how arousing it would be to be the one giving the pleasure in this way. She did what felt natural, and added her hand to cover the rest of his thick shaft that didn’t fit in her mouth, and when she got a good rhythm down she began to add suction. 

“Oh! Fuck! Please suck it like that, please!” He begged in a ragged voice and Katniss obliged him readily. 

“Baby, you’re so good at that,” Peeta panted as he reached out to run his fingers in her hair. “I don’t know why you were so--Ah!--so nervous!” Peeta praised her and Katniss looked up at him through her lashes without stopping her ministrations. 

“Oh my fucking—Just look at you! Fucking beautiful! Sucking my cock so damn-ah-so-so-good!” Katniss felt her breathing pick up at Peeta’s words. 

So that was dirty talk? She felt her cheeks heating even more and her clit literally throbbing with need. She had to break off from sucking for a second to get her breath back, so she used her hand to keep pumping him. She squirmed on the bed restlessly before moving to straddle one of Peeta’s legs, then she resumed sucking him as she rubbed her soaked panties along Peeta’s thickly muscled leg. 

“Is this making you wet? Oh, god, Katniss…I’m gonna eat you out so good after this. I’m gonna fucking live between your thighs until morning. You just wait.” Peeta promised and it only made her redouble her efforts. 

She alternated between longer periods of sucking and quick pauses to lick around the head of his cock, never stopping the movements of her hand. 

Then she felt it. The change in Peeta’s breathing. The subtle angling of his hips. The more primal sounding edge to his moans. 

“Katniss, I’m gonna come, move baby,” Peeta said in a thick voice. 

Katniss suddenly, stubbornly, resolved to see things through. 

She knew what a little bit of him tasted like. Johanna had described the clear fluid that had leaked from his tip as precome. That hadn’t been so bad. So, Katniss thought she’d probably be ok letting him finish in her mouth. 

“Katniss,” Peeta warned, as he pushed back on her shoulder, trying to dislodge her. 

But she resolutely remained, bobbing her head and moving her tongue along the underside of his cock as she sucked. 

She wished she could have watched him as he got closer, but she got caught up in the moment and forgot to open her eyes, navigating mostly by the feel of his body’s responses and the sounds he made.

“Fuck, fuck! I can’t—Ohhh…..yeah, god, baby, take it. Take it all…..” Peeta moaned the words brokenly as he gently palmed the back of her head and thrust in just a little at the end. His cock pulsed inside her mouth and she actually felt each twitch on her tongue. Her mouth filled with each spurt of his cock, and it happened so fast that she could barely angle her mouth in time so that it pooled on top of her tongue instead of shooting down her throat. 

That was when Katniss realized that semen actually tasted different than precome. A little saltier, definitely thicker, and also slightly metallic? 

She had never tasted anything like it and it wasn’t actually something she was expecting, so while Peeta collapsed boneless and sated into the mattress, groaning, she gingerly got up and slipped into the bathroom to spit the stuff out into a towel, which she then promptly tossed in the dirty towel hamper. 

She looked at herself in the mirror after wiping her mouth. 

She looked flushed and bright eyed and slightly dreamy. If she didn’t know better she would have sworn she had been the one to just orgasm. 

At the thought of orgasm, Katniss felt a small proud smile creep onto her face. It widened into a full blown grin when she remembered just how enthusiastic Peeta had been and how much he seemed to like everything she did. 

Johanna’s going to be so surprised I went through with it. Katniss thought to herself smugly. 

She had actually really enjoyed herself, and she knew that the days of only giving Peeta handjobs were at an end. 

“What’s taking so long in there? The night’s not over yet, Sweetheart. And I’m nowhere near done with you.” Peeta’s voice interrupted her thoughts loudly. 

Katniss smiled again, as she made her way back to the bathroom doorway. She leaned against the frame and tossed Peeta a cocky grin before replying. 

“Right back at ya, Loverboy. I hope you’ve recovered there, because that was fun. And I might just want to get in a little more practice before I hand over the reins.” 

[witchthewriter]

𝑆𝘩𝑖𝑝 𝑓𝑜𝑟 @moonie14.

Want one? Here be the rules 🦋🌈

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝐼 𝑠𝘩𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑃𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑎 𝑀𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑘! The sweetheart, the kindest person in all of Panem... I ship you with him because I think you work well with people who do show their emotions, who are open with their communication and thoughts. Peeta does this and more, and always in a graceful way. 

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Still looks up at you with these shy eyes; almost like they’re peaking through his eyelashes. He never gets over how stunning you are, and it makes him all giddy inside

You like to paint his nails - and he doesn’t mind it at all. He thinks it’s fun. He suggests it when you’re feeling down. That’s when he lets you add sparkles. 

Would definitely be the type of boyfriend to randomly surprise you with a pet. Probably a dog, even though in the Districts dogs were seen as a hassle - you adored them. And Peeta always loves getting you things you adore. 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

The King by Sarah Kinsley

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Chaotic Dumbass Duo

Calm bf x Hyper gf

When Two Of The Sweetest people In The Room Are In Love

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

That you love romance - it means he can spoil you as much as he wants and you happily receive it. He gives you flowers, pulls out your chair for you, opens doors for you, and it goes even further than that. Protecting you, (letting him protect you). 

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅  

Is definitely Katniss and/or Johanna. With your ENTJ personality, I think you three would be an intimidating trio. No one would mess with you, even though they wouldn’t even dare think it. They too have trouble opening up and showing their true emotions. 

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟏𝟎𝟎

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝐼 𝑠𝘩𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝐽𝑜𝘩𝑛 𝑀𝑢𝑟𝑝𝘩𝑦! Underneath all that bravado was a guy who just wanted to be loved. Yes, he was quite the menace in the beginning but over time he’s proved himself again and again. I think that’s the other type of person who works well with you - the asshole with the hidden heart of gold. 

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Your are like ... the only person he’s nice to. Everyone else is too much of a bore, or he can’t be bothered with them. So everyone asks how you and Murphy get along, because he literally hates everyone else. 

Treats you like an absolute Princess - you never want for anything. He will literally kill to get what you desire (a bit far? Idk upto you...) 

Hates when people question your relationship. No it isn’t fake. No he isn’t forcing you into anything. So he takes it to heart when you stand up for him. 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Heat Above by Greta Van Fleet

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

"Being With You Makes Me Better"

Emo Loser (John) x Also Emo But Is Way More Likeable (You)

Black Cat (John) x Golden Retriever (You)

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Aside from your personality, he absolutely loves that you can do impressions. You will laugh together for hours, making fun of the people who do so to you during the day. 

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅  

I think Clarke or Octavia ... or both. You’d definitely be an OG member of the 100. And you grew close with both women because of the trauma that you endured. But also because you came from the same home. 

𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝐼 𝑠𝘩𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝐿𝑦𝑑𝑖𝑎 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑛! As I said with Murphy, I see Lydia under the same sort of character trope. She’s a bully at first, but underneath her fake confidence is a wounded and sensitive woman. I think you two would work well together because she would protect you no matter what, and you would show her the kindness and love that she deserves. 

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Loves that you love pink! She’s the type of significant other who wants to match with her partner. It might be a piece of jewellery, some clothes, maybe even a pink candle that she got you so that whenever you light it, it reminds you of her 

Would be totally obsessed with your style - possibly even see you as a fashion icon because it’s so individualistic 

Loves the sound of your laugh. Everytime she hears it, it’s like happiness incarnate. She can’t help but feel better. 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Cherry by Lana Del Rey

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Childhood Friends to Lovers

Tough on the Outside, Soft on the Inside (Lydia) x The Top (You)

 You're The Only One Who Understands Me

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Your personality as a whole; it’s so multidimensional. She loves that about you - there’s this happy go lucky side that every sees, but when the two of you are in private, she gets to see another aspect of your personality. She feels privileged. 

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅  

Stiles! Who wouldn’t want Stiles as a best friend? Oh and is he jealous of your relationship? Yes. But at the end of the day, he’s just happy that the two of you are happy. 

[heavensbeehall]

"Mockingjay", Chapter 24

Part 3: The Assassin

Chapter 24: Katniss is hurt my what Gale said. The Rebels are getting closer to the President's Mansion and Gale once again predicts what the Capitol will do. Tigris goes to spy. Katniss worries about Peeta's immunity. Capitol citizens have beaten a boy who "looks like Peeta" to death. Peeta wants to go great a diversion, and Gale gives him his nightlock pill. Tigris dresses everyone up, like a good stylist. Cresside and Pollux leave first, then Gale and Katniss, finally Peeta. The Rebels start shooting. The girl in the lemon yellow coat dies. Several weird pods go off. Gale is captured. Snow is using children as human shields. A "Capitol" hovercraft drops bombs. Rebel medics, including Prim, arrive VERY quickly. They are exploded.

-- Gale is always described as having a talent for snares--first in the woods. Then obviously he starts creating traps for people. But he's also really good at predicting the Capitol and I think that's kind of sad for him. It's like they have gotten into his brain. Like he knows here they will manually active pods. He knew they would firebomb 12. He's just a kid too, he shouldn't know these things.

-- Can I just say that I feel the movie version of Mockingjay - Part 2 made Tigris look like an idiot. The way it's described here they look "exactly" like refugees fleeing. And in the movie, they just have hoods on. It's very upsetting because it's her main contribution to the plot and she's been waiting since the prequel!

All the times these arms were my only refuge from the world. Perhaps not fully appreciated then, but so sweet in my memory, and now gone forever.

Guys... she knows he's right there, right? Peeta's improvement has not convinced Katniss that he's back at all.

The little girl who was watching me kneels beside a motionless woman, screeching and trying to rouse her. Another wave of bullets slices across the chest of her yellow coat, staining it with red, knocking the girl onto her back. For a moment, looking at her tiny crumpled form, I lose my ability to form words. Gale prods me with his elbow. “Katniss?”

I am very upset about the girl in the yellow coat and it's weird to me that Gale doesn't seem to notice. Could be the fog of war but it seems intentional on the author's part.

Behind a rack of framed photos of Snow, we encounter a wounded Peacekeeper propped against a strip of brick wall.

The fact that they sell framed photos of Snow disturbs me. It's giving "Dear Leader."

Shoot me. That's what he was mouthing. I was supposed to shoot him! That was my job. That was our unspoken promise, all of us, to one another. 

Since this all started because Peeta said to shoot him and she wouldn't, this feels pointed. But I don't think shooting Gale would have saved anyone at this point.

I notice the duck tail formed by her untucked shirt. I have the same reaction I did the day Effie Trinket called her name at the reaping. At least, I must go limp, because I find myself at the base of the flagpole, unable to account for the last few seconds. Then I am pushing through the crowd, just as I did before. Trying to shout her name above the roar. I'm almost there, almost to the barricade, when I think she hears me. Because for just a moment, she catches sight of me, her lips form my name.

Her duck tail. D:

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Do you think Katniss is an unreliable narrator? Yes/No? Why?

What's your opinion about first person POV narrative in The Hunger Games book trilogy?

Thank you 😊

@curiousnonny

Alright so I’ve seen it argued both ways and here are my thoughts: unless your narrator is an Almighty Omniscient Presence, your narrator, especially a first person narrator is going to be unreliable in some fashion. So yes, being a human being, Katniss is in some respects an unreliable narrator. However, I’ve seen it argued that we should use the term “flawed” or “partially unaware” when talking about Katniss. Which I can see the argument for.

So why is she flawed/unreliable? Because she’s human. She can’t know or understand everything going on around her (clueless about the growing rebellion), and she can’t always correctly interpret what happens around her or other people (suspicious of Peeta and his actions in the first book and interprets them incorrectly several times because she doesn’t know him).

Because she’s sixteen. Sorry but just like a thirty year old, a sixteen year old is going to have a worldview and way of thinking that is influenced by their experience or lack thereof, no matter how much a teenager might think or act like they’ve got it all figured out.

Because she doesn’t always accurately portray herself. Katniss displays at different turns both arrogance and a downplaying of her skills and knowledge. She also harshly judges Peeta in the first book for not having the same skill set and brand of “bravery” (example when she judges him for being freaked out by the wheat fields in the arena) as her even though by her own understanding of the world, she knows WHY he hasn’t developed those same skills and mindset.

Because with first person narration, her opinions, judgements, and perspective inevitably seep into the narration and often affects how we the readers view or perceive her world and the people in it as well.

However, as a first person narrator, Katniss is almost baldly honest with us in each moment. She admits when she doesn’t know what to do or what she’s feeling. She admits when she’s scared and what scares her. She’s only unreliable because her perspective is limited and thus her narration is limited and can be biased.

So I get the argument for calling her flawed rather than unreliable because we can rely on her narration to be true to her thoughts and feelings at the time, which goes hand in hand with the first person narration. She is not an unreliable narrator in the sense that she does not deliberately hide knowledge from us nor does she manipulate what happens or how she reveals the story to us. Unreliable narrators are usually born from:

- repression (narrator themselves doesn’t even wanna deal with this shit so they avoid it whenever they can, talk around it, etc.), which leaves the reader to dig through what we’re given and Craft our own interpretation of what’s going on. Now… there is a little of that with Katniss, but her repression of certain things is more a symptom of her ptsd and not necessarily a driving factor in her character or the plot.

- deliberate manipulation, where the narrator purposefully lies to and deceives the reader. So a really good example of this kind of narration (in my humble opinion) is the book Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein. Which the title itself is a bit of irony, given the meaning of the word “verity” ahahaha. But without giving too much away, the narrator for the first half of the book is a captured British spy during WW2, so she’s invested in concealing the truth from her captors, and through her voice, the author manages to brilliantly conceal the truth from the readers for half the damn book. Highly recommend.

But that’s not what makes Katniss “unreliable” as a narrator. Her narration is flawed because Katniss herself is flawed.

As for my opinion on the first person narration… I’m good with it. For a couple of reasons. 1) I like my emotional gut punch stories delivered up close and personal sometimes. 2) It builds the limited perspective into the narration and thus we as readers must dig through the text to form our own opinion on things which uh… you know fits the purpose for which SC claims she wrote the book. She says she wanted to write a book to open for adolescents a discussion on war and it’s effects, in particular…. Propaganda, which is used to influence our opinion or to limit our perspective to what the powers behind said propaganda want us to think. So here we have a narrator whose narration is influenced by her opinions. But we also have the ability, almost a mandate given the themes and content, to do our own critical thinking to arrive at or form our own perspective and opinion on events. An astute reader will go beyond what Katniss interprets from her own experience. Go beyond the propaganda. 3) in a way, it places a distance between the text and the opinions of the author. Now of course her own opinions are going to show up in the text in subtle (or sometimes not subtle) ways, but there is still the possibility of distance if you consider that a lot of writers will craft their characters and stories not around “what would I do” or “what do I want my character to do?” But “what would this character actually do?” If that makes sense.

And as much as I do sometimes wish we knew more about the world, I do understand the choice to tell it solely from Katniss’s first person pov.

Anyways, thanks for the ask @curiousnonny

[fatefought]

@subsiist sent: ❛ right now i wish i was dead. ❜ (Peeta+Annie)

drip, drop goes the crimson down closed fists. it's red like the anger that shines in blue eyes. has his jaw always been so tight ? annie isn't sure. things kind of melt together nowadays. the cells means they're all trapped like animals, but it also makes it like the most unfortunate zoo. they have to watch each other. does annie look as unhinged as many of her month-long neighbors ? probably, she'd have to assume.

his torture must be getting more intense. the aftermath she'd witness in the adjacent window has been equal parts fright and recently an intense rage. he's sometimes violent. sometimes she wonders would would happen if those bloody fists broke through the glass. would his wish come true, and would she go down with him ? she's had that nightmare sleeping on the cot in the back of the room. annie has tried uplifting him afterwards time and time again, as well as others in the cellblock. she is starting to have a difficult time believing her own words.

still, his words knock her. they're thoughts she'd had after the arena, and have become more reoccurring in the cells. ( a thought that inspires guilt because she has to live, at the very least for her son. ) hand goes up to the window in the most pitiful way to touch her friend were they friends even ? she'd like to think so. " well we're alive that has to count for something. " she's grasping for straws, when she used to have no qualms finding something positive in dismay. words fall out like she's trying to convince herself too.

[kebug]

Ten Times As Long - Chapter 6 Peeta’s Interrogation

     “Where’s Katniss?”

     “What do you mean? She ran past me on her way towards town. I would guess she was heading for the woods.” Greasy Sae says almost as confused as me.

     “She said she was going to help you.”

     She rolls her eyes at me, “You really don’t know her as well as you act like you do on tv.”

     “What do you mean? I know her just as well as I say I do in front of the camera!” I defend myself to the best of my ability, but I have a feeling she’s right. I can’t tell what she’s thinking anymore, but she seems to know exactly what’s running through my mind.

    “Where does she go when she needs to think?”

     “Why would I know? It’s where she goes to get away from everything.”

     “If you knew her you’d know where she went.”

     I think for a moment before deciding my answer, “The meadow?”

     “She does love the meadow, but no. She always goes to the lake when she needs to think.”

     Th lake? The one her father took her too when she was young?

Mr. Everdeen.

The strange man that sits in the same room as me, the father of the woman I love. The man I’ve never met, and thought was dead. The man that could make or break my future with Katniss.

“Oh.” I turn to face Mr. Everdeen. He really is an exact replica of his daughter, but she has her mothers beauty. Her father could never be called beautiful. He could only ever be called handsome. “Could you tell me how you’re here? I’m confused and it might help me cope with everything if I get some answers.”

    “Not until I get answers.”

    “O-okay… What do you want to know?”

    “Who are you? What are you to my daughter? Why did she run when you asked her if she cared for you?”

    “Well sir… I’m Peeta Mellark. I turn eighteen next month and I love your daughter. Of that I’m sure. I don’t know what I am to her. I was trying to figure that out when she ran. Lastly, my best guess for why she ran would be that she’s just as confused as I am.”

    “Well. Since you couldn’t answer two of the three questions, let me ask another. Who is she?” I sit there for a second trying to understand his question. He knows Greasy Sae. Who else is there?

    “Katniss?” He nods, but I don’t understand his question.

     “You aren’t very bright boy. Who is she to you? What do you think of her?”

     “Oh! Well she’s beautiful, kind, funny, honest, caring, loving, brave, bold, daring, determined, sweet, loyal, smart, dedicated, fun, crazy, creative, amazing, strong, talented, and so much more! She’s ambitious, but not in a bad way. She’s so very stubborn, but I’ve never seen a problem with that. I love her and her beautiful, but hidden, heart.”

    “You do love her, don’t you.” Not a question. He knows I do.

    “I gave you your answers, can I have mine now?”

    “Yes.” I can tell it’s going to be a long story, so I settle in on the couch.

[wavehq]

enjoy limitless possibilities here in celestire islands, peeta mellark and katniss everdeen ( hunger games ), where you can start the new life you've always longed for. make sure you read the checklist, as we'll be sending the discord link through ims! enjoy your new dream, ni and sid!

( the hunger games, dupes not allowed. keith powers, he/they, demiboy. )  ——-  hey, is that ( peeta mellark ) hanging around ( cosmic crust )? i wonder what life is like for them, balancing working as a ( twenty five ) year old ( baker ) and ( weight lifting )? they’re notorious for being ( kind-hearted ) yet ( reserved ), and i always seem to hear ( like real people do ) by ( hozier ) playing whenever they walk past. they’re known around the islands for ( weekly bread donations to the elderly ), and they’re associated with ( the smell of cinnamon, big fluffy dogs and the color orange ). last we spoke, they were telling me about a vision they had… something about their biggest regret being ( not throwing katniss the bread ), but it must have just been a bad dream. //  —  [ ni. ]

( the hunger games, dupes not allowed.  alaqua cox, she/her, cis woman.)  ——-  hey, is that ( katniss everdeen ) hanging around ( moonlight market )? i wonder what life is like for them, balancing working as a ( twenty-five ) year old ( farmer ) and ( singer (privately) )? they’re notorious for being ( adroit ) yet ( distant ), and i always seem to hear ( gilded lily ) by ( cults ) playing whenever they walk past. they’re known around the islands for ( her sheep making the best woollen jumpers/sweaters on the island ), and they’re associated with ( watching the sunrise with a hot cup of coffee on the porch, big muddy boots thumping against old wooden floors, candlelit nights when the power goes out, the sink overflowing with old dishes that you’re too tired to clean ). last we spoke, they were telling me about a vision they had… something about their biggest regret being ( her being saved by coin and not peeta ), but it must have just been a bad dream. // - sid (:

[papofglencoe]

Bahahaha what do you think of the fact that Peeta never had this like ~moment~ where he got his full memory back and understood the truth all at once? I think 99.99 percent of readers loved the symbolism and tragic realism that he never did and had to piece by piece slowly recover himself but I’m like that .01 percent that is like … I love cliches, give me that like tragic fall to your knees moment where he sees the truth and lies so clearly.

Maybe it was Suzanne’s intent though that I would want that and it would never come. Like you kind of gotta keep people wanting 😭😭😭😭😭

I saw this late last night and couldn't sleep because I was so excited to write back (at a human hour lol). SO. So. Sososooooo...

Here's a novel! And screw hiding it under a cut.

SC gives you the cliche you're looking for, my friend. She really does. The trope is True Love's Kiss. She writes it as the suicide kiss.

Now, SC uses THG to convey a serious, and for her very personal, reality about PTSD: it makes you a different person. Frustratingly, maddeningly, horrifically, it alters you and the way you look at and experience the world in some irrevocable, fundamental ways. Some people will talk about curing it, but in my experience with it, there is no cure. There's just living with it, working around the beast of it, and that's the daily grind. I think SC saw that in her father too and clearly writes that being the case for Katniss and Peeta. They are never the same people they were in the beginning of the story (even though I'd say both start the story with trauma and perhaps PTSD from that). They never fully recover from their experiences in the Games and the revolution, and they always to have employ the therapeutic strategies they've discovered that work for each of them to power through their episodes, nightmares, and depression. So there's no panacea for the PTSD, and I just wanted to be clear about that so that no one misconstrues this true love's kiss cliche as frivolously claiming to cure something real for which there isn't a cure. That's the bittersweet part of Everlark's journey: they come together at the end as glued-together, reconstituted, patchwork people. Perfect in their imperfections, tbh.

But as far as Peeta understanding the truth goes... the suicide kiss is that cliched moment (he has even fallen to his knees for it). Ofc we don't get the narrative from Peeta's POV, just Katniss', but this is what she says about it:

"It's a long shot, it's suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. 'Don't let him take you from me.'

Peeta's panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. 'No. I don't want to...'

I clench his hands to the point of pain. 'Stay with me.'

His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. 'Always,' he murmurs."

(MJ, 314, emphasis mine)

Suzanne Collins is a Catholic, and so I am (or at least I was until adulthood). And what she wrote here is, in essence, an exorcism. Katniss is the Christ-Savior character of the story, Peeta her rock/Peter, and Katniss' kiss (and the truth behind its message/her love) is the power that compels the devil out of him. At the end of this moment, his vision has returned to normalcy (his new normal), and he swears to never forsake her. I'm secular af now, but this holds up even as True Love's Kiss, where the kiss from the true love cures the beloved of their curse.

If we had this scene from Peeta's POV, I think this would be the fulcrum, the pivot point where he realizes fully, not in bits and pieces, but fully, that not only is Katniss not his enemy, she's not just his teammate or ally or friend either. He realizes that she would rather die than go on without him- she puts her life in his hands, trusting him, begging him to stay with her, and she does it with a kiss. He could have killed her in this moment. He had tried before. She knows that, and she chooses to kiss him. Not for any cameras, not for anyone's benefit but his, and in front of the eyes of his alleged rival too. I think this is the moment he realizes she has real feelings for him, and that he does too.

They're in the middle of running a gauntlet, and he doesn't have time to reflect on the moment or let any realization sink in beyond muscle memory. But there is a reason he follows her to the City Circle, and there's a reason his eyes flit away like they always used to when she is escorted into the meeting of the surviving Victors. There's a reason he tells her he can't let go of her after she assassinates Coin, and there's a reason the first thing he does as soon as he is able to is return to her in D12. Imo there's no piecing together required of the truth that they love each other after the suicide kiss- there's no risk of him returning to believing she's a monster/mutt/bitch or anything remotely like that. They just need time to heal and recover and find some new sense of self before either of them acts on those feelings (which is in line with the whole celibate period any person in recovery is encouraged to go through so that their own mental/physical/spiritual house is in order).

I dunno. That's just what I think. And with this meta, my copy of MJ officially fell apart. lol

[glitt3r-litt3r]

can u do everlark where katniss is actually pregnant during catching fire and she gives birth during mockingjay. this is after they rescued peeta. and basically peeta is like freaking out about having to kill katniss and when katniss first goes to see him he starts to freak out at her but he immediately stops when he sees the baby. obviously he's still weary of her but he's distracted because he's just so emotional over the fact that he has a child.

happy valentine's day in panem boo!!!!

Happy Valentine's Day in Panem!!!! Sure babe I can definitely write this. I hope you don’t mind me turning it into a 3 part series! Timeline is a little wonky but imagine she got pregnant during the victory tour. Flashbacks in italics! 

Enjoy!!!

Little Bird Part 1

Katniss POV

“it costs everything that you are” Peetas face is calm and polished, blending in with the lavish chair he sits on. He’s alive and not hurt and his eyes are still blue. I can practically smell the roses through the screen and it makes me gag in my seat. Gale is staring holes into the side of my head but I can’t take my eyes off the screen. My stomach flips suddenly and a hot sweat begins to drip down my neck. 

There’s too many people here

I need to leave right now, Peetas saying something about ending the rebellion but I can only focus on not spewing vomit onto my gray ill fitting jumpsuit. As I walk I realize how tired I am and there’s no way I'll make it back to the room in time. Another wave of nausea hits me as I hold the wall for support. Come on little bird just a little longer.

You’re alive. They haven’t killed you, yet. Yet.....

Vomit fills my throat before I can choke it back and there’s nothing left but to open my mouth and let it run down my chin. Peeta is alive in the capitol. The sudden hope I had in the cafeteria was gone now only filled with dread. A baby. We are having a baby, I am having a baby. I had grieved the loss of someone who was still alive, and now where to put the sorrow but bury it. 

“I’ll see you at midnight.” Even as I said it, something felt wrong. There would be no meeting him at midnight. His eyes were focused on mine, looking for an out. For a way to tell Beetee he wouldn’t be separated from me or his child. 

Don’t let me leave

If I started to cry he would stay. I want too but that feels more like a death sentence than a plea. I’ve always had good survival instincts and I was right. If I had stayed with him they would’ve killed me the minute we got to the capitol. The heat was not helping me, only making everything appear under a haze.  Kiss me again

just once

just give me one more kiss and hug and then it'll leave to the beach with Joanna and I can feel better about turning my back and walking away. Severing limbs has never been my strong suit, once his kindness rooted itself inside my chest there was no removing it. I held my stomach as we walked, for the cameras I told myself. I’ll see you at midnight, by the hanging tree.....

The thought of the hanging tree drew me back to 13 so quickly there was a brief moment when I looked around for my mother to scold me for singing it. After it was banned from my house my father would only sing that song alone with me in the woods. She thought the contents of the song were too sad for children but so was starvation so we never pushed the topic. Slowly I realize she is here, talking to me. 

“Come on Katniss. Let’s get you cleaned up.” She says

“ Come on” Prim is here too, holding my hands and smiling. 

This is when she looks her most beautiful. Ever so helpful little girl who seems to be more put together than I do on most days. They lead me back to the room, clean me and put me in a new outfit. When I sleep, Peeta comes to me again.

There are holes in my memories the size of landfills but one thing stays. The arena. In almost perfect detail. The worse I worry about Peeta the more he visits me at night. Cleaning him off and feeding him in the first one. Realizing I'd never be apart from him again in front of the cameras. The feeling of him enveloping me on that beach, covering me in an invisible shield of his words. His hands handing me my pearl, the curve of his unmoving chest when he hit the forcefield, the way his hair dripped in the dense air of the jungle. I’ve never been so aware of the way someone looks, how they move, the way they laugh. 

“Nobody needs me” There’s no sorrow in his eyes, he’s kind of smiling at me actually. He’s so sure he’s right it makes anger flash through me. How could he sit here and with his whole chest believe that nobody would be happy if he lived. If not for me at least for whatever is growing inside me. The waves crash again in the background and I’ve grown to understand why Finnick loves the water. So calming and unapologetic, so blue. His eyes stay steady on mine.

“I do. I need you.” 

under the false sunset it feels more romantic than what I really want to say. which is, I can’t do this without you. You need to live because you’re a better person than me in every way and I won’t be able to live without you. This baby is doomed so let me die and let them come with me. He must read my mind quickly, because he’s kissing me. I can’t focus on anything other than this, his soft parted lips pulling me back from the dark corners in my mind, in a way only he knows how. Peeta is simultaneously unraveling me and putting me back together, making a new with my scraps, turning me into something beautiful and free. Turning me into a bird, woven words of love and a dying song in the back of my throat. I hope he can feel it, how much I meant what I said. So when he pulls back, our usual stopping point in front of the cameras, I grab the back of his head and hold him there. Stay with me. 

I wake with a start, sitting up quickly clutching my stomach. The sudden movement was hard to make and I’m out of breath by the time I realize where I am. Prim lays asleep in the bed next to my mother, holding the end of her braid like she did when she was a toddler. The bassinet Plutarch gifted me sits at the end of the bed, empty and hollow looking. Soon it will be alive with the shrill cries and soft sounds. It will hold the most precious little girl the world has ever seen. Her little peeps and small hums. Nothing could stop my smile now.

There’s going to be a baby in there in about 2 weeks. Peeta’s baby. Our baby. I spent 2 months in denial. It took 4 months for me to even say the word baby. Took Gale 6 months to look me in the eyes. All those times I shut down the ideas of having kids, even with him, who I trusted with my life. He avoided me any way he could, if we weren’t needed together he didn’t stick around. In that time I grew to miss him more and more. I thought Peeta was dead and that Gale would do what he had always done and kept my family safe. While I missed him, being around him brought so much guilt I could hardly stand it. 

One time he looked up while Coin was discussing a new propo, something about how ‘The Mockingjay carries the child of the future’, and our eyes met briefly before my knee’s gave out and Boggs had to catch me. He hadn’t stayed to see if I was okay, left quickly and silently without being dismissed while everyone fret over my health. I thought he severed our friendship, cut out the rotting meat to salvage what was left of his heart.

The weeks following that revelation were the worst of my pregnancy so far. I was grieving both Peeta and Gale, it left me hollow and bitterly resentful of the thing growing in-between my ribs. I wanted it gone, I wanted to be rid of it. I felt so horrible for thinking like this, cried myself sick until Prim had me sedated and in the hospital for a week under observation. She was kind enough to remind me that the baby would probably have Peetas curls and smile and if we were lucky, his kind soul. This sent me into hysterics once again but once I had finally leveled again I realized she was right. 

If I couldn’t get Peeta back this baby was the next best thing. I would cling to it hoping to catch glimpses of him in between all the stubborn parts that would mostly be me. She would be perfect. 

Now, a certain fondness has rooted itself inside my stomach. Before I was pregnant the thought of carrying a child was far scarier than being in the games. Watching my child become a victim before they had even opened their eyes, a slave to the capitol and a puppet in a sick show of power. Watching their name get called in the reaping used to wake even my mother up with my screaming nightmares. It was out of the question, Katniss Everdeen would not be having children in this lifetime. 

Damn you Peeta.

Something weird flooded my head then. It started at the top and traveled slowly over me, goosebumps raised on my arms and the tops of my thighs. It was excitement, and hope. Such deadly things I thought I crushed at the ripe age of 12. Those parts of me, the parts that disappointed me, were to be locked away now showing up in the middle of the night. Sneakily they crept into my head and now they were planting themselves in my future. 

Peeta is alive, we can save him. He can meet our baby. 

Just then a kick, followed by another. A tiny jolt of life courses through me and I feel more alive than I have in weeks. 

Sleep comes easy now at the thought of Peeta holding our little bird in his arms.

[lemonluvgirl]

What do you think about Hijacked Peeta storyline in Mockingjay?

Is it narrative-ly satisfied for Peeta's arc?

Thank you,

@curiouspeetamellark

I think it was a big narrative risk that Collins took with his storyline. In many ways it is extremely relevant for his character growth, for the surrounding characters, (especially but certainly not limited to, Katniss) and for the deeper themes present in the novel itself. One of my favorite things Collins consistently does is bring polarizing issues of war, and it's affects, to the forefront of the reader's mind to shed light on issues like treatment of POWs.

Peeta in particular, goes through a kind of bizarre crucifixion parallel when he is captured by Snow and the Capitol. Complete with a betrayl (Haymitch and the rebellion not only leaving him behind but also leaving him out of the escape plans) being publicly humiliated and tortured (Propos with Ceasar, which bear a strange resemblance to Jesus's trial with Pilot) and a period of time spent in hell/purgatory after he refuses to deny/succumb to the will of his captors (Peeta's last coherent act before the hijacking completely took over was to warn District13 of the bombing raid). Instead of emerging from hell (capture) victorious and vindicated (like traditional Christ and biblical canons) Peeta instead emerges from his ordeal broken and having lost faith in his purifying and sacred purpose, to save Katniss and love her no matter the cost to himself.

Peeta becomes, as Johanna aptly puts it, the capitol mutt version of himself. Where all the normal aspects of his personality (kindess, selflessness, and peace making) become inverted. He becomes cruel, callous, and volatile, seeking to cause discomfort and division among his friends and allies. This causes many people around him to fear and distrust him, including Katniss herself, and it is a form of death Peeta undergoes, and stays trapped in for quite sometime. His old self essentially is considered dead, killed by Snow and his minions, and all thats left is a broken shell of the brave and noble man many admires. Peetas resurrection is a slow and gradual one, and is is not miraculous or even complete. The last chapter of Mockinjay makes it clear that the scars of the hijacking and the PTSD enduced from the summation of all his terrible experiences is something Peeta has to live with everyday.

In a way, I kind if hate that Collins took that direction with his character. It seems like the worst kind of thing someone could do to a person like Peeta Mellark, who valued his morality and his autonomy and always maintained an unwavering surety of self that most people couldn't even comprehend when faced with the life altering and soul shattering experiences he lived through. Child abuse, two Hunger Games, and a rejection from the girl he loved didn't destroy his inner kindness and strength, but trackerjacker vemon and brutal torture did.

I still don't entirely forgive Collins for doing it, but I understand why she did it. To highlight the internal costs of war and violence on the human phsyce, and the collateral damage done to the most innocent and blameless. She's brilliant because she makes you feel it when the darkness and hatred of the human heart goes a step too far. The consequences of war hit you as close to home as possible, because after all, she spends three novels getting the reader to fall in love with Peeta for so many unconventional reasons and then she rips him, and any easy, clear cut happy ending he may have had away.

For that reason I find it hard to call Peeta's hijacking and subsequent character arc narratively satisfying. But I don't think his arc was supposed to be completely satisfying. I think it was supposed to feel slightly unfulfilled because the damage can be overcome but not undone. Peeta survived but like all the other characters the war took its toll and nothing was ever the same. Life moved on and happiness was found again but the nightmares remained. I do applaud Collins for is writing his character's conclusion realistically. That she did not gloss over the trauma and the after effects helps the story maintain its integrity. And it forces readers to acknowledge that while war may be justified it is never without its costs.

That ending theme, more than anything helps to bring closure and gravity to Peeta's character development. His ending, although not as bright or as unblemished as I would have hoped for, is still valid and well earned.

Sorry about the long nature of the reply. I hope this answers your question 🙂

[seasonsofeverlark]

I See A Light (Now Will I Follow)

Author: @juxtaposie​

Prompt: Heyyyyy I don’t have a clue how to do this 🤣. But my birthday (I’m also @spookykatnissmellarkkkk ) is on November 16 sooooo I would 👉🏻👈🏻 like to request a oneshot 😘. Post war and sweet are my only two specifications 🥰. Thank y’all 💜🤍 [submitted by loganmarsss (@festivekatnissmellarkkkk​)]

Rating: T for non-graphic mentions of sex

Summary: Katniss begins to look toward the future, and Peeta is just happy to share it with her.

Author’s Notes: I’ve had this little scene in my mind for a long time, and I thought it fit the prompt nicely. Happy birthday love, and I hope you enjoy! ______________

“I was thinking,” she says into the darkness, her words muffled from the way her cheek is squashed into Peeta’s chest. It’s early, so early the sun isn’t even peeking over the mountains, but it’s been a hard night, and there’s no going back to sleep for either of them.

He shrugs his shoulder when she doesn’t go on, rolling her head until she’s looking up at his chin, and she plants a kiss there‒just because she wants to, just because she can‒before starting again, “I was thinking…it might be nice to have a buck. For the Fall Festival.”

It’s a new thing, this festival, a way to celebrate the last days of sunlight before the cold, dark winter months set in. This is only the third year it’s been celebrated, but it’s been such a rousing success that they’re almost known for it. There’s even been talk of forming a tourism council, though all three Victors have been staunchly opposed.

“They’ll be in season soon,” she goes on when Peeta doesn’t say anything. “Could feed a lot of people, maybe give away the antlers as a prize or something. I don’t know.”

Peeta’s continued silence makes her feel a little silly. She doesn’t know why she’s bringing it up now, but it’s been on her mind for a few days. Deer hunting isn’t too different from any other kind of hunting she does, but if she wants to bag a buck, she’ll need to make some preparations and do some tracking. 

“That sounds great,” Peeta says finally, his voice rough‒with sleep, or emotion, she can’t tell. She wants to ask him what’s wrong, if anything, but before she can, he’s cupping the back of her head in one big hand and tilting her face toward his for a kiss. She accepts eagerly (wonders how she could ever have done anything else), and by the time he’s slipping her nightgown over her head, she’s pulling at his shoulders, trying to roll him on top of her. 

They make love with quiet urgency, hands clasped together and held against the mattress above her head. It’s still new, this intimacy, and even though it feels so fragile in the sunlight, there’s never any doubt in her mind when they come together under cover of night. She thinks she could live off the taste of his breath and the feel of his hands on her body. He is every good thing in her world. 

After, when the bone-deep contentment of completion has seeped into both of them, Katniss asks, “What was that?”

It’s not a real question, or at least not one that needs answering. She’s teasing mostly, trying to make him understand how the great weight she carries always feels lighter in these precious moments. She’s not expecting a reply. 

He gives her one anyway, after he’s gathered her up in his arms again and tucked her against him. She would have hated that once, feeling pliant and manipulated. Now all she feels is safe. 

“It’s just good,” he says, pressing his face into the tangle of her hair. “You never talk about the future.”

She inhales, her heart squeezing with a sudden sense of fragility. He’s right‒she doesn’t talk about the future, because she never thinks about the future. It’s hard enough just to get through a single day, and when she starts to imagine the stretch of weeks out into months and years, there’s nothing but a clawing feeling of uncertainty. Nothing is promised. Nothing is safe. 

“It’s just good,” Peeta says again as if he can tell what she’s thinking. His hands stroke down her back and along her arms. 

And Katniss, unsure and afraid, has to admit that he’s right.

[kyleys-empty-mind-shit]

confessions

hol’ up . . . this is our vv first fic together. bye-

inspo: “Isn’t it obvious? I’m in love with you?”

genre(s): angst; fluff

fandom: the hunger games

rating: g・t・r

rated t for swearing

word count: 2.6k

warning(s): two oblivious dumbasses in love; probably unedited 

things to know: y/n (your name) ⟢ e/c (your eye colour) ⟢ y/l/n (your last name)

Peeta Mellark.

He was your constant; your rock. You could rely on him for anything and everything.

He was the steadiest thing you’d had in your life for a long time now, but as he took your wrist and led you upstairs away from the party, you couldn’t help but feel the anger bubble up in your chest.

“Peeta, what—”

“Why?” he nearly shouts. Peeta is mild mannered. He’s many things, actually; polite, charming, and personable, but angry was not one of them. It didn’t scare you like you’d always expected it to, but rather frustrated you.

“Why what, Peeta?” you hiss back.

He looks at you as if you had just grown two heads, his brows knit together in disbelief.

“You’re joking,” he breathes. You shake your head, not understanding what he is trying to get at. You defensively cross your arms, knowing the juvenile element would annoy him, but having nothing to do with your hands increases your already anxious state.

“That guy,”

“That guy?”

“Yes, y/n, yes. That guy that was just a little too friendly with you? So close to you that he was practically crawling under your goddamn skin? What were you thinking?”

You laugh at him, unable to contain it. “I can handle myself perfectly fine. Why are you being such an ass?” you all but shout at him. “It’s none of your business anyway?”

“Hm, let’s see y/n, he could’ve, god, I don’t know, taken advantage of you?”

You scoff, unable to handle his cliché statement.

He brings his hands up and pushes his hair back, looking up at the ceiling as he exhales heavily through his nose. You squint at him, unable to read the emotions on his face.

“What is up with you?” you whisper, not quite sure if he was able to hear. Your eyes narrow, unsure of what his next words might be.

“For someone so smart, you can be so goddamn oblivious sometimes, y/l/s.”

“Oh my god, what is with all the stupid riddles tonight? I can’t read your mind! You can’t expect me to just know things,” you exasperate, throwing your hands out in front of you. “For someone who’s supposed to be good at communication, you’re doing a pretty shitty job of displaying it,” you spit, throwing his words right back at him.

“Fine,” he hisses, starting to move towards you.

You cock your eyebrow at him, your bodies coming closer, nearly closing the gap.

“Fine?” you question.

“Yeah.” he huffs out, repeating the word with an heir of finality, “yeah.” His breath warms your face, the scent of vodka invading your senses.

Your cheeks heat up, suddenly very aware of his proximity. You watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly. He can’t meet your eyes, his heart hammering against his chest so loud that it feels as though you can hear it. His head drops along with his gaze, studying the floor before chancing a glance at you. Peeta lets go of a breathy laugh as words tumble out of his mouth.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he breathes, his words choked, hardly audible, him now looking you right in the eyes. Your stomach does a flip once, unsure of his next words. Blue eyes stare at your e/c ones that are clouded in confusion. You can feel his frustration start to build as he takes a step back from you, his voice rising and hands coming from his sides.

“I’m in love with you,” he bursts out.

Oh my god.

You stare at him in shock, his proclamation stunning you. You blink once, twice, as his words echoing through your head.

His hazel eyes bore into your e/c ones, willing you to say something, anything, to let him know you heard him. But yet you stand there, unable to find the words.

Nothing is coming out.

Say something, you beg yourself, wanting to scream out an answer, yet your mouth continues to remain shut. You swallow hard, your tongue feeling like sandpaper. How could you be so oblivious to his feelings? You and him have known each other since childhood, yet there you are, standing only inches away from him, the truth finally known.

The look in his eyes is absolutely heart-wrenching; if you hadn’t just heard him, you’d have thought he had lost his best friend. In a way, you guess, he had.

Peeta just shakes his head softly, shrugging his shoulders in such a way that makes you want to reach out and take his hand. His dark waves fall over his eyes and he turns around, facing the door.

“I—” you begin, but you know it’s too late.

“Just, um, forget it, y/n,” his voice soft, small, “I’ll see you in environmental studies.”

He opens the door and steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. You want to scream, to tell him to come back.  

“Dammit!” you exclaim, throwing your red solo cup as hard as you can at the wall. The contents spill all over, some of the liquid splashing on you but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You reach to pull at your loosely braided hair, a habit of yours that came out whenever you were experiencing an excess of negative emotions, before you realize where you are. You harshly rub your eyes with the heels of your hands as you remind yourself to breathe.

In, out . . . In, out.

“Get it together,” you tell yourself, taking one last deep breath. “Okay.”

You turn to head back downstairs to the party, nothing on your mind except finding Peeta and setting everything straight, hoping at this point that that was even a possibility anymore.

God, you hated this part. You hated having to make up. Saying sorry was never your strong suit, your pride always getting in the way. But this? This was not a matter of pride. This was about finally coming to terms with the truth that you so desperately tried to avoid for years.

You almost trip as you descend the stairs, looking everywhere for Peeta but unable to find him anywhere in the crowd.

Spotting a head of wavy bronze hair by the water cooler, you rush over to your english lit classmate, who is also a friend of Peeta’s; Finnick Odair.

“Hey Finnick,” you say once you reach him, trying to keep your voice even. He greets you with his signature smirk before bringing his cup to his lips and taking a sip.

“Ah, y/n, having a good time I trust?”

“Trying to,” you grumble. Finnick gives you a quizzical look before you proceed; “Have you seen Peeta?” You can’t help but notice the slight crack in your voice when you say his name.

“Yeah,” he confirms, “I saw him leave a few minutes ago. Seemed pretty upset.”

“Yeah, wonder why,” you mutter bitterly, knowing he wouldn’t hear your words above the music.

You bite your lip, weighing the option of asking Finnick to help you find Peeta. Half of you wanted to go and find him yourself, your need to get the weight off your chest as quickly as possible, the other half of you wanting to stall for as long as you could.

“Could you text him? Ask him where he is?”

“Why can’t you?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, your cheeks burning. “Because, I—”

“Wait,” Finnick’s smile widens. “Wait, are you the reason he’s upset?”

Your silence is enough for him. His dopey smile falters for a moment, an emotion that you could only define as realization sweeping over his face. He shakes his head softly, pulling his phone from the pocket of his hoodie and opening his texts. His thumbs glide swiftly across the screen as he compiles a message to send to Peeta.

You can’t have been standing there for more than a minute when his phone dings. Finnick flashes you the screen.

From: Pita Bread

I’m fine... at the pond.

“Thank you, Finnick, really,” you breathe.

He just nods, taking another sip of his drink.

You rush out of the frat house the party was being held in, running across the street to Panem University’s main campus, willing your legs to go faster.

The pond was at the northern end of campus, smack in the middle of Tribute Hall and the Coriolanus Snow Study Center. You see a silhouette sitting on one of the few stone benches surrounding the body of tranquil water, tossing handfuls of what you can only assume is trail mix at the ducks that liked to take up at the pond.

You slow down, bringing your footfalls to a trot, then silently padding your way over the grass towards him. Your chest is heaving from the exertion as you try to make your breaths even.

“Peeta,” You call out, your voice void of any venom as you stalk towards the boy. You’re almost inclined to slap him because of how he acted. No rational person could expect someone to give them an answer to a question as heavily weighed as that right away.

He stands up once you reach him, refusing to look you in the eyes. For a fleeting moment, you catch the grief-stricken look in his usually bright eyes and it’s enough to keep you from raising your hand at him.

“Why did you leave like that?” you breathe out. He shrugs a shoulder with almost casual indifference. “Peeta.” you nearly plead, looking at him as your eyebrows knit together.

“What did you expect me to do?” he says feebly.

You look up at the night sky, inhaling deeply as you hurriedly send off a prayer to whatever higher power that you can say everything you want to say to him, in the way you want to say it.

In a way that says something to him. Means something.

The stars seem to twinkle brighter, almost like they received your message. God, this is so hard.

Peeta is still looking anywhere but at you, his focus now on the ducks idling in the water.

“You could have waited for me,” you say. “I mean, come on! That was… big. A big thing to drop on me,” you add, “so of course I was shocked. But if you had just waited for me . . .”

“What?” he snorts, finally looking you in the eyes. “What would you have said that couldn’t have possibly made me feel like more of a fool than I already was? What—”

“I love you,” you blurt.

Here it goes.

“And not in a ‘you’ve always been there for me, so I’m kind of indebted to you’ kind of way but in a way that’s like, ‘I want to do cheesy stuff with you because I know it will make you smile.’ That’s like, I would do anything, anything to prove to you that I’m worthy of your love. Peeta, you’ve seen everything I was and everything I am, and it just— I just couldn’t believe when you said that . . . But I— I trust you with everything in me and it frightens me, because you know I’ve been hurt before, but I can’t deny that everything feels right when I’m with you. I just. I want another chance. If, if you’ll let me.” You breath the words out, hardly anything but air coming out.  

“Y/n, breathe.”

“Right,” you exhale, your mind swirling around, making vertigo seem like a walk in the park.

“You’re not . . . unworthy of love,” Peeta begins but he stops, trying to figure out his words. “What Cato did to you, it doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love. He’s.. an asshole, who’s going to get what’s coming to him. I— I’m sorry for dropping it on you like that, but seeing you with that guy, he just reminded me so much of Cato, and it made me so mad because I didn’t want you to go through that again, and I.. couldn’t help but think it was my final chance to tell you how I felt.”

“Final chance?”

“Y/n, I’ve loved you since like year six.”

“Peeta, you absolute dumbass!” you exclaim, quickly going to cover your mouth as your own words shock even yourself. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . wow,” a laugh nearly escapes your lips. “We’re both oblivious fools, huh?”

Peeta’s brows furrow in confusion, as you let out a soft chuckle. His head is tilted slightly to the side, his soft curls falling into his blue eyes. This moment is one you’ll always remember, you think to yourself, already trying to commit it to memory. The way the trees slightly sway from the late summer breeze, the moonlight reflecting off the water; best of all, the glint in Peeta’s eye when your gazes meet. It’s so cheesy, really, but you couldn’t care less. You’ve played it over and over in your head for years, different scenarios always being formulated, but nothing you could have ever dreamt of could compare to this moment.

“I’ve loved you since year seven,” you tell him, every word of it true. “I can’t believe it took us both this long. Could have avoided the whole Cato fiasco of year twelve, I suppose, if we had just . . . had the gall to tell each other back then, I guess,” you say, the last sentence mumbled.

“Yeah.” Peeta laughs, a genuine deep laugh that reaches his eyes. It rouses the butterflies that have been in the pit of your stomach, the fluttering making you nervous as you watch him scratch the base of his neck almost embarrassedly.

“So,” you say, dragging the ‘o’ sound. “Pretty sure this is the part where most people would kiss.”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“No, not you, Peeta. I was talking to the duck behind you,” You frown, unable to contain the scoff that passes your lips. “Yes.. yes, I want to kiss you,” you breathe, your pulse hammering.

You step forward, your hands reaching up, gliding against his cheeks, his hands resting on your waist. In a moment of bravery, you place your lips against his. They’re soft, and he tastes like cedar and bread, and it’s like coming home, being in his arms as his lips move against yours, the breeze chilling your skin but his warming you.

There are no words spoken between the two of you as you both pull away. His eyes are still closed, his long eyelashes resting against the tops of his cheeks; the corners of his mouth are pulled up slightly.

God, he’s beautiful. So beautiful. That word is usually reserved for sceneries, sunsets or pretty dresses, but in this moment, you can’t tear your eyes away from him.

“Finally!” someone shouts, causing the both of you to jump back from each other, acting like two first years getting caught passing notes in class. You look around before your eyes land on Johanna Mason, leaning against the statue of the university founder Alma Coin that’s off to the left of the entrance of the study center. Finnick is with her, his signature smirk gracing his elegant features once more. “We were wondering when you two would have the balls to tell each other how you felt.”

“It seems everyone knew but you two,” Finnick adds with a deep chuckle.

“Alright, Finny, I think we should leave the two lovebirds alone.” Johanna says, turning away. “Be safe, you two!”

“If you need anything,” Finnick winks at Peeta. “You know where to reach me.”  

You laugh softly, leaning your head against Peeta’s chest. His arms wrap around you, encasing you in him. His cheeks rests on the top of your head, his breaths evening out as you listen to his steady heart beat.

This is it. This is home.