#primrose everdeen Tumblr posts

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    Henry River Mill Village- Hildebran, NC , filming location of The Seam in The Hunger Games (2012)

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  • Get your sad songs play list ready for htis post. 

    These are the most heart wrenching deaths…  These hunger games ones came a close second to The Lion King… and Up… Mufasa’s Death and Ellies.  I don’t think  I will ever get over those disney deaths… Nor these ones but the disney ones hit differently.

    #disney deaths#mufasa#simba#scar #the lion king #lion king#up#ellie #carl and ellie #disney #why must you do this to me #rue#mags#finnick#boggs#Primrose#finnick odair#primrose everdeen#prim#THG #all those deaths they mean something #CatchingFire#catching fire #hunger games catching fire #The Hunger Games Catching Fire #mockingjay part 1 #mockingay part 2 #mockingjay #The Hunger Games #Hunger Games
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  • Prim: I wish we could all get along like we used to in middle school. I wish I could bake a cake made out of rainbows and smiles and we could all eat and be happy.

    Rue: She doesn’t even go here!

    Seeder: Do you live in this district?

    Prim: No, I just have a lot of feelings.

    Seeder: Okay, go home.

    #source: mean girls #rue#primrose everdeen#seeder#district 11 #the hunger games #thg #the hunger games incorrect quotes #thg incorrect quotes
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    Fancast of (an older) Primrose Everdeen!

    @mega-aulover

    #Last of them I got! #thgfancast#Primrose Everdeen #the hunger games
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    APPRECIATION POST

    Appreciation post for the one and only Katniss Everdeen!! I know people have mixed opinions on Jennifer Lawrence but personally i loved her in this role. She portrayed Katniss so well in comparison to the book. JUST LOOK AT HER!!

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  • Agents of SHIELD: The Hunger Games Series (10/15)

    “Since the last games, something’s different. I can see it…Hope.”

    #agents of shield #aos hunger games series #robin hinton#primrose everdeen#maggie's moodboards
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  • wow, i didn’t realize primrose faked her death to live her dream as a professional skater. 

    #and this is icarly!! #the hunger games #thg#primrose everdeen#spinning out#serena baker #the whole time i was watching this series i was wondering why i recognized the sister so much #AND IT WAS FREAKIN PRIM THE WHOLE TIME
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  • I am now convinced Suzanne Collins is a time traveler and wrote the hunger games to warn us about 2020. There are waaaay too many similarities at this point.

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  • Textures

    (Hayffie and Everlark 💕. Effie’s first post-revolution visit to District 12. Haymitch and Effie have an agreement to keep their relationship secret, but Katniss and Peeta are observant. This fic began as a set up to a *little piece of a scene* I wanted to write. But I became intrigued by what I imagine of the inner world of each of the characters, and the story became dear to me. Then the I-love-writing-Effie-all-soft-and-gorgeous-and-amazing factor came into play, and the story grew long — 9 mini chapters. So if you make it all the way through this, then wow. Thanks for caring about the characters to go the distance with me, and let me know if you have a guess about the *little piece of a scene* that inspired the full story.)


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    “Let’s keep this casual,” had been one of their agreements. “This is nobody’s business but ours,” had been another.

    In the middle of the revolution, nobody noticed *them* anyway. No one paid attention when they’d ducked out in the middle of Finnick and Annie’s wedding reception, or when they’d eaten meals in the dining hall with their legs touching beneath the table. During their final days in 13, nobody thought anything of Haymitch returning to his quarters long after curfew nor wondered where he’d been.

    The sex had been a welcomed distraction. Covertness and privacy effected an intimacy between them which was unexpected and surprisingly not terrifying.

    When the revolution ended, secrecy became more complicated.

    “Can you feed the geese this weekend?” Haymitch asked Peeta at least once a month, twice if he wanted to push it, which he usually did.

    “Sure. Where are you going?” The question was getting harder to answer.

    “Buying liquor. That white shit gets dull when there are other drinks in other places and no borders keeping me from them.” That standard response, though not untrue, was becoming less believable as the months passed and more people, supplies, and goods made their way to 12.

    Eventually Peeta stopped asking Haymitch where he was going, though occasionally the boy mentioned having seen bourbon or some other whiskey at the reconstructed Hob. Among Peeta’s many qualities were his helpfulness and his unassuming capacity to mind his own business, even while observant.

    Katniss, on the other hand, was resuming her former tendency to express opinions about whatever she observed. Haymitch never asked HER to feed the geese when he took the train to the Capitol.

    He was attempting to mend a wire fence on the day Katniss approached him with an announcement. “We’ve invited Effie to visit this weekend.”

    Haymitch narrowly missed hitting his thumb with the hammer. He covered his affectedness with sarcasm. “Sweetheart, it’s not wise to sneak up on me when I’m holding a weapon.”

    “I can see how lethal you are to that fence. I don’t think the odds are in its favor.” Trauma had left Katniss with dark humor always ready on her tongue. She and Haymitch were similar in this regard. Their banter was biting, but their hearts had grown in mutual understanding, shared survival, and compassion for one another.

    A goose approached Katniss, looking for a handout. “I’ve got nothing for you.”

    “This fence will keep the odds in YOUR favor, otherwise you might lose a finger to these gals. They don’t like it when the neighbors show up without snacks.”

    “Maybe that’s because you ask *the neighbors* to feed them so often.”

    “Peeta doesn’t seem to mind, especially in exchange for eggs for those cakes he bakes.”

    Katniss couldn’t argue with that. “He’s making one Saturday. Would you like to join us for supper?”

    “Your guest will be there…” He sought confirmation without asking the question. He tried to sound light, as if he was talking about the walls or their sofas, not the person he’d been having sex with for months.

    “She’ll be there.”

    Haymitch tried to keep a straight face. Failing at that he returned his attention to the fence. “I do enjoy a moist cake.”

    “I figured.” Katniss smirked. “…And bring a bottle, not a flask. As much as I care about Effie, her company is easier to enjoy with my brain slightly altered.”

    I enjoy her more when I’m sober, he didn’t say. There’s no way in hell he’d admit that. But what’s a dinner party without liquor? It’s basically just walls and sofas. “A bottle,” he agreed.

    “A FULL bottle — of something good.”

    “So demanding,” he chuckled. It was comforting to see Katniss wanting to engage with life beyond Peeta and the woods.

    “It’s a fair trade,” she said, “For the pleasure of the company.”

    Since clearly she suspected too much, Haymitch changed the subject, “If you want to gab all afternoon, then how about you help me fix this fence.”

    “You and your ‘weapon’ are on your own with that. I’ll see you Saturday.” The goose waddled after her, “And no freeloaders, or I’ll turn you into in a soup.”

    “I don’t taste very good.” Haymitch joked.

    “Certain people might disagree with that.

    “No idea what you’re talking about.” He hollered after her. Damn, those kids were too sharp to keep secrets from anymore.

    His thoughts turned to Effie, and he tried to focus on the fence enough to avoid murdering his thumb.

    ***

    Effie was on edge about returning to 12. Her last trip there had been before the third Quarter Quell, well over a year ago — a lifetime. She’d thrown up on the train that Reaping Day, unable to keep down her rising terror and disgust. It took every ounce of false positivity she’d cultivated throughout her life to do her job that day and pull her victors names from those glass balls. Katniss and Peeta had offered her more than validation of her own existence. They’d shown her the raw beauty that could come from unscripted humanity. They’d lifted the corner of a veil she couldn’t pull back over her eyes, no matter how hard she tried. It was almost like marrying death.

    She’d worn butterflies to that reaping. Monarchs. Such a regal name for a creature transformed from a grub in a prison of its own making. She remembered the fleeting moment of relief she felt in pulling Haymitch’s name — relief that the slip of paper didn’t say ‘Peeta.’

    What about now? She wondered. How would she feel now to be the agent of fate and injustice who sentenced people’s loved ones to their deaths? There would be no glamor or honor in that. Looking back, there never had been. How would she feel now pulling Haymitch’s name? Acid bubbled up her throat, and she sipped it down with water. Terror and disgust lived within the memory, same as the feelings she’d vomited up the last time on her way to 12.

    This thing with Haymitch wasn’t casual for her. She hadn’t meant to feel so much. She wouldn’t give a name to the feelings. That wasn’t part of the deal. This intensity hadn’t been one of their agreements. She was haunted by the memory of pulling his name and haunted by that fleeting moment of relief. In the haunting, her feelings for him kept growing. It was unveiled madness, and she walked the edge in high heeled shoes. She’d never known any other way to walk. She missed Katniss and Peeta fiercely, and they’d invited her to their home. So she’d face 12, without wearing a mask.

    There would be no lavish makeup or wigs, no corset of armor, nothing resembling the veiled self who’d pulled names from the Reaping Ball. She wouldn’t face 12 that way. People’s memories deserved more from her than ostentatiousness. Nothing black of course; she wasn’t in mourning. She’d never really known the dead. Soft orange and green were the best choices, the children’s favorite colors. Most people couldn’t pull off a green and orange outfit without resembling an enormous tulip, but Effie wasn’t most people.

    As she smoothed her dress, awareness dawned. She rubbed her fingertips together, feeling the fabric covering her hands. Soft cotton. Is that really what she wanted to touch today? The question came because the answer was ‘no.’ She wanted textures beyond herself, even things that may be uncomfortable to touch, like sorrow. She peeled off her gloves, folded them neatly, and slipped them into her bag. “So beautiful. For another day.”

    ***

    Peeta had pushed Katniss a bit for Effie’s visit. His strongest memories of her were colorful and warm, in contrast with the memories of his mother. When Effie had hugged him goodbye last winter, she’d held on until he was ready to let go. Not many people in his life had ever offered him that opportunity to be the one to stop hugging first. That’s the truth he reminded Katniss about when she initially rejected the idea of inviting Effie for the weekend.

    Katniss’ mother hadn’t had the capacity to give her those kinds of hugs in the years since her father’s death, but Prim had held on a thousand fold. The ache of her sister’s absence was sharp. She would prefer endless Tracker Jacker stings to the pain of grief. At least their venom would put her to sleep. Grief was a nightmare she still couldn’t sleep through or wake up from.

    Peeta grieved his family too, and part of his grief was for the closeness he hadn’t experienced with them when they were alive. Katniss held him when she thought in those terms. She held him until he was ready to let go. It was a simple gift to offer a person.

    Effie still had truths to learn beyond the Capitol propaganda which had shaped her, but long ago someone had taught her the value of holding on. The lesson came from either that person’s presence or their absence. Katniss didn’t know which it was or who had been the teacher. Effie hadn’t shared her personal stories. Katniss was curious about her and empathetic for Peeta, so she agreed it was time to invite Effie to visit.

    “Let’s meet her at the station,” she suggested, “It’ll be better that way. Different. This isn’t the Victors’ Village anymore. It’s our home.”

    Every visit Effie made previously to those houses had been under force. She was an agent of the Capitol then. She had to be there, and they had to invite her in. There was no choice or celebration, despite Effie’s excessive use of “wonderful” as an exclamation.

    “She’ll like that. …She cried for us before the Quarter Quell… Real or not real?”

    “Real. She was proud. She wanted something better for us.”

    Peeta reached for Katniss’ hand, threaded their fingers together, and held on. “Then let’s show her what we have.”

    Peeta had lost memories, but he hadn’t lost his capacity to find words so perfect that even Caesar would be envious.

    ***

    After the train arrived, Haymitch watched the kids’ doorstep through the window of the guest room upstairs. It was either that or from the yard. A few weeks had passed since he’d seen her, and he didn’t want to wait until supper. Katniss and Peeta had been the ones to invite Effie to 12, which is more than he had done. If he invited her, then that would be opening the can of worms they were trying to keep closed. Right? And if there was one thing Effie hated, it was worms crawling all over the place. Real or metaphorical. She preferred containment or at least control when something was uncontainable.

    Watching from inside would delay dealing with the lid on the can. But if the kids already knew he spent those Saturdays with Effie, then what did it mattter? It was nobody’s business but his and hers, but if the kids already knew, then they just knew. And if so, he could go out in the yard and kiss her, then the geese could eat any spilled worms, and the jig would be up.

    But even if the kids knew, then Effie didn’t know that they knew. And it would probably be better for her to hear it from them than from him because he had no interest in sitting through a dinner party with her pissed at him. Sex with her angry was great, but sitting on sofas in awkward conversation with her fuming at him for revealing their connection didn’t sound like a desirable evening.

    So he watched through a rip in the sheet covering the window as the kids walked with her from the station. Effie’s arm was wrapped around Katniss, holding her loosely at the waist. Haymitch and Effie had talked before about burns and how the pain could linger a long time in new skin. Effie was gentle. He knew that better than anyone. Katniss held Effie’s waist too, so the kid must be feeling okay with the connection. Peeta and Effie chatted as he rolled her bag behind him. Haymitch might have thought to open the window to hear their conversation, but it was too late now. Besides, this was already more spying than he felt comfortable doing.

    Mostly he just wanted to see her, and the bit of subterfuge was worth it. She was different. Her hair was soft, real, pulled back in some sort of twist. He’d never seen this dress before. The top was orange, but not bright like the fruit. It was like rainbow sherbet melted in a bowl: orange, pink, and white blended together. In the former days of the Capitol, melted ice cream would have gone to waste. But he would drink her up if he could. Her neck, her collarbones, her shoulders, everything her clothes didn’t touch. A dark green band circled her waist, and below it the fabric changed as it hugged from her hips to her knees. The green was covered in tiny flowers, mostly the color of the melted sherbet and also pink, gold, purple, and yellow-green scattered here and there. The flowers laid on top of the dress rather than being part of the fabric itself. He didn’t have the right words to describe it. Just gorgeous. She could have anyone. Anyone would have her if they could. And for at least the hundredth time he wondered what this goddess was doing with a drunk like him.

    She turned her head toward his porch and smiled before stepping inside the kids’ house. Before joining them for supper, he needed a shower. A cold one would be best.

    ***

    Effie shivered on the short walk from the station. She was dressed for late summer, but fall was already in the air in 12. The air was changed, permeated by fragrances of the adjacent forest instead of the coal mines. Not enough people had returned for that industry to resume. Reconstruction was slow, and the nation was relying on other sources for fuel. Effie breathed in deeply, surprised by the scents of life. Human bones, charred and weathered a year, had lost the smell of rotting flesh. They smelled like nothing, which was a relief and a strange sadness. She knew thousands of corpses were there, but she didn’t look. She knew her limits. Bearing witness to such death would have been too much.

    She was grateful for the children’s hugs and for the warmth of their home. The place had looked cold when she’d seen it last, almost not lived in. But now it was alive, with scuffs on the furniture and food in the oven. Katniss brewed tea from mint leaves she gathered in the woods, and Peeta brought a plate of cookies to the coffee table. Effie’s stomach was not settled enough yet to eat, but she felt welcomed there. The three of them sat on the sofas for conversation.

    Katniss curled up her knees, and Peeta leaned toward her with unconscious familiarity. This was their life now — her victors. Tears pooled in Effie’s eyes, and she let one spill over without wiping it away.

    “Effie?” Peeta worried.

    “I’m so relieved. So relieved to see you both looking well.”

    Wellness is a relative concept. When she’d last seen them several months ago, Peeta had little between his skin and his bones. Most of Katniss’ skin was burned, and she’d grown thin from protracted stress. They were healing now as best as they could and filling out into their adult selves.

    “We feed each other.” Katniss was straightforward. “That helps.”

    Peeta brushed her palm with his fingertips. Satiation is a relative concept too. There were many hungers, unfolding with time.

    “This peace helps,” he said, “It makes it easier to quiet the voices inside.”

    Katniss curled her fingers around his. This was still their way — protecting each other. Back and forth, exchanging breath.

    Effie finally wiped away the tear. Peace was something she felt far from in her inner life. “It’s quiet here, aside from the construction equipment down the road… and the geese next door.”

    “The geese are decent neighbors.” Peeta had developed a fondness for them. “They only get riled up around feeding time.”

    Katniss looked to her bow and quiver of arrows by the door. “If Haymitch had decided to raise chickens, I can assure you the roosters wouldn’t have lasted long.”

    Effie snickered. “Haymitch probably would have had to buy back his dead roosters at the Hob.”

    “Exactly.”

    “His mother raised geese,” Effie added, “So the choice makes sense. There are different ways to find peace. He only talks about his family when he’s been drinking. It’s probably easier that way. They were close. 26 years is a long time, but some wounds are too deep for time to heal.”

    Katniss and Peeta glanced at each other. Effie’s words were telling — full of intimacy and introspection.

    “Oh, my darlings. I’m sorry. Here I am going on about grief when the two of you already understand better than I ever will.”

    “There’s no need to apologize…” Peeta began.

    “…Snow taught us all grief.” Katniss finished the thought.

    Effie sighed. “I’m so proud of you both. I recognize I have no right to be, but still I am.”

    “You’ve always been supportive of us. Anyone can see that. Without you and Haymitch securing sponsors, we wouldn’t have even survived the Games.”

    “Dear boy, you are too kind.”

    “He’s honest.” Katniss agreed simply.

    The tea had cooled enough to drink, and Effie sipped hers, tasting a bit of their life here. The flavor was good.

    ***

    Haymitch hadn’t asked when supper would be ready. That gave him the flexibility to show up whenever he wanted. He figured they’d spend at least an hour saying things he already knew about all of them. Waiting an hour should be good.

    Unfortunately an hour gave him too much time to think about things he didn’t like to think about… What clothes to wear to look good, but not so good that it was obvious he’d thought about what clothes to wear to look good… Which liquor was tasty enough to share but not so tasty that he didn’t want to share it… What time the clock read.

    He kicked himself for watching the clock, then he watched the clock again, then kicked himself again, and so on. All the while, he didn’t drink because he wanted to show up sober, and hold her waist sober, and kiss her sober when the kids were distracted. Then he wanted to drink with her and watch her cheeks turn pink and wait for her to touch him in some inconspicuous way that he would feel but nobody else would see.

    It was a long hour.

    ***

    “I invited Haymitch to supper,” Katniss said in response to the knock at the door.

    “Wonderful!” Effie replied in a rehearsed way that masked however she actually felt about it.

    As Peeta shifted to stand, she interrupted. “I’ll get it. I’ve been sitting all day.”

    The kids watched her straighten her dress and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear before opening the door.

    Haymitch greeted her at the doorstep with a basket in one hand, a bottle of liquor in the other, and a smile big enough to show the gap between his teeth, which she was eager to caress with her tongue.

    “It’s good to see you, sweetheart.” he leaned in, kissed the soft patch below her ear, and whispered, “You look incredible.”

    She pressed her hand to the tender spot below his sternum. Her touch was reflexive. Their knowing each other’s bodies was difficult to conceal. “I’m glad to see you too.” She loved this particular shirt, grey and form-fitting. She wanted to touch more than his stomach, but she’d already lingered too long, so she pulled away reluctantly. “Come in! Come in before the flies do!”

    Haymitch moved toward the sofa before the kids had a chance to get up. “Presents…” He handed Peeta the basket of eggs, and Katniss got the brandy. He lowered his voice, “A full bottle… as requested.”

    “Thanks, Haymitch.” and “Perfect.”

    “Katniss, I’ll put these away,” Peeta suggested, “And let’s get some glasses.”

    Katniss was more interested in what was going on between Haymitch and Effie.

    “Hey.” Peeta cocked his head in the direction of the kitchen.

    She acquiesced. “Make yourselves comfortable. We’ll be back.”

    The moment the kids left the room, Haymitch wrapped his arms around Effie’s waist and kissed her without hesitation or slowness. She responded in kind with her tongue sliding along his teeth, then tasting more deeply. Her hands played over his chest to the hollow between his collarbones where she stroked just once, gently, so gently.

    “Jesus, Effie,” he murmured, “You feel…”

    No word was enough, so he kissed from her neck along her jaw. Her skin was smooth with so little makeup. He drank her in like melted rainbow sherbet.

    “Haymitch…” She was almost too breathless to protest. “We should stop. The children are just in the kitchen.”

    “They said to make ourselves comfortable.” He pulled her hips close.

    “‘Make yourselves comfortable’ does not translate to ‘Fuck in our living room.’” Her whisper flooded him with desire for exactly that.

    “It does in my house.”

    “Then how about if I slip over there later for that translation.” She kissed him once more then ran her thumb across his lips to wipe away remnants of her lipstick.

    “I’d love to *translate* the fuck out of you, honey.” He adjusted the neckline of her dress which had slipped sideways and was showing a sliver of her bra. “No corset today.”

    She shook her head ‘no.’

    “Thank god.”

    He pulled her to the sofa and sat beside her, close but not too close. “Respectable?”

    “We’ll see.” Beneath the coffee table she rested the toe of her stiletto against his boot. They fit together in a way that she could feel so strongly but didn’t yet understand.

    ***

    “Are they done making out in there, or should I drink this brandy in the kitchen?”

    “Shhh.” Peeta listened. “Give them a few minutes. What if we hadn’t seen each other in three weeks? Imagine how we’d be feeling.”

    “Point taken.” Katniss was still barely able to let Peeta out of her sight. His presence was one of the things keeping her sane. “But this is ridiculous. Why don’t we just tell them that we know?”

    “Maybe they don’t want to know that we know. We should let them tell us when they’re ready.”

    “Shhh,” she said this time. “I think I hear them talking about Effie’s work.”

    “Then lets bring in the drinks.”

    “Quickly before they change topics and have sex on our couch.”

    “Katniss, they wouldn’t…”

    She rolled her eyes.

    “Okay. They would. Let’s go.”

    ***

    “…And Paylor’s on board?”

    “The president is supportive.” Effie affirmed, “She’ll bring the proposal before Congress when they’re in session.”

    “On board with what?” Katniss asked as she opened the bottle of brandy, and Peeta set the glasses on the coffee table.

    “If all goes as planned there will be sites in each district designated as national memorials and a memorial museum in the Capitol.”

    “Congress isn’t even in session. How did you secure an advocate?” Haymitch asked.

    “Several Senators and Representatives are interested. Cressida and Pollux contributed footage of destruction in the districts and filmed the proposal. Since she refused payment, I made a donation to the film she’s producing. The Trinkets don’t have deep pockets, but we have enough. And considering everything Cressida has done for us. For all of us…” Effie’s eyes held tears like old glass — solid fluidity.

    “Would you like a drink, sweetheart?”

    “I still have my tea.”

    Haymitch poured brandy for Katniss and himself. “Peeta?”

    “Not yet, thanks.”

    Haymitch took a cookie from the plate, dunked it in the brandy, and ate it in two bites.

    “And of course they wouldn’t give the proposal coming from me a skerrick of attention if it weren’t for you…” She looked at Katniss and Peeta. …My victors, she didn’t say the words, but they spilled onto her cheeks.

    Haymitch slid his hand between the sofa and her back, drawing circles at the base of her spine, offering her this small comfort and pleasure.

    “This work will mean so much to the country, Effie.” Peeta assured her.

    “It’s wonderful that you’re involved with this. I had no idea…” Katniss glared then at Haymitch, “You tell me nothing. Still!”

    “I told you if you want to gab, then help me fix my fence.”

    “That’s extortion.” She grinned.

    Effie reached for Haymitch’s glass and took a sip. She did it absentmindedly, as if sharing a glass was a common occurrence.

    The kids noticed.

    The next time Haymitch picked up the glass, he turned it and drank from the spot where Effie’s lipstick had left a mark. It was an act of unmistakable intimacy, almost communion.

    Katniss bit her tongue. Whatever was going on between those two was serious. It occurred to her that maybe they weren’t talking about it because maybe they didn’t know yet what it was.

    Her own awareness of love wasn’t unfolding all at once. It was like a primrose opening to the sun, each petal, bit by bit. So why expect someone else’s awareness to be any way other than that?

    The brandy was delicious. Katniss drank in contentment rather than to dull an annoyance. Right now, there was no annoyance. Her family was here. Even the ones who weren’t here she felt as more than persistent echoes. She felt them in the flowers appliquéd on Effie’s dress.

    “Primroses.” Katniss realized. “Are you wearing them for us?”

    “Yes, my dear.”

    Haymitch’s hand stilled on Effie’s back. She was remarkable. He had no idea how they were going to keep this casual, when it was already so much more. He had no idea how they were going to keep this private when their feelings were so close to the surface and already running so deep.

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  • Time and tragedy have forced her to grow too quickly, at least for my taste, into a young woman who stitches bleeding wounds and knows our mother can hear only so much.

    female awesome meme ♡ 12/20 ladies in a book
    primrose everdeen (the hunger games, suzanne collins)

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    from crying over rue to crying over prim, i had to make these for my top three

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    •  Fan Cast pictures of the 4 Books, the Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes, The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, & MockingJay
    • Don’t forget to tag it #hgfancast 
    • Starting 7/3/2020 
    • All supporting Fan Cast Pictures
    • 7/4 Katniss Fan Cast Pictures
    • 7/5 Peeta Fan Cast Pictures
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  • “On and on we seal the pages with salt water and promises to live well to make their deaths count.”

    - Mockingjay (Collins, 387)

    I looked this up and from what I can tell sealing pages with salt water isn’t a thing. Like it sounds obvious now that I say it but I thought since the pages were parchment (usually parchment refers to animal skin and not paper from what I can tell) maybe it was an old technique that just isn’t used anymore since we use paper. But nope I was wrong the sealing the pages with salt water is referring to tears. They cried over EVERY SINGLE PEROSN in that book. Haymich alone added 46 tributes that he couldn’t save and I don’t doubt there are more people in there than we could ever imagine.

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  • On page 386 of Mockingjay Katniss Wales up in her bed after crying with buttercup over Prim. She fell asleep in the living room from what I can tell. So does that mean Haymich or Peeta came by to check on her and then carried her upstairs to her bed?

    I mean personally I like to imagine Greasy Sae and her granddaughter lugging Katniss up the stair and hitting her head on the door frame. But you know, to each their own.

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  • thg face claims pt 1

    inspired by this post by @katnissmellarkkkk

    i found all of these photos on pinterest except for the first of alyvia alan lind, which i found on her instagram. nobody’s gonna see this lmao but i’ll get pt 2 up sometime soon; i already know who my annie will be, but unfortunately there’s a 10 photo limit per post. still need to decide on madge, finnick, and cinna, and i might do a pt 3 for haymitch, effie, and any other characters. who knows, i may like doing this and do a lotta the tributes and victors :)

    please add onto this with your personal preferences or opinions, i’d love to talk abt this! :D

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    katniss - kelly gale (though w gray eyes)

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    peeta - max barczak (though w blue eyes)

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    prim - alyvia alyn lind (though w blue eyes)

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    gale - laurence coke (though w gray eyes)

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    johanna - lee joo-young

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