Send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

Tanner proposes to Cecelia at the end of her Victory Tour with their capitolite wedding then between Blight's Victory Tour and the the 58th Hunger Games. Though they met in District 8 for the Victory Tour it's at the wedding they get to know each other. Though both have few clear memories of the evening having imbibed a bit too much of the provided alcohol.

Cecelia never brings up Maddy or her own family first around Blight. Especially if it is to do with venting about her kids.

However she does ask him to be whatever the panem equivalent of godfather is to Jack when he's born.

"i'm alright, really," delly starts, but she knows it's futile once she sees hazelle roll out the cloth and ignore her. she didn't even notice the gnarly gash on her leg until someone pointed it out to. her tolerance for pain has never been high, but she supposed frantically trying to get her brother and herself out of district twelve before the bombs took them made her brain decide it wasn't something to worry about at the time. seeing it now, surrounded by specks of dirt and dust and dried blood, delly almost wanted to gag. but her nausea is quickly replaced by a stinging pain when the cut is sterilized; she's almost thankful for it. she would hate to cause even more of a commotion in the busy hovercraft. "thank you," she manages. "my brother and i will gladly help you with any injuries you might have too, mrs. hawthorne."

There isn’t much to do back home.　Skulk about in the Victor’s Village,　perhaps.　Cogitate upon her various loyalties,　soulless grey like the clouds bunched together above,　dismal skies illuminating dismal life.　With a populace adoringly enfeebled by the propaganda　⸻　it’s all around,　really,　in the District pride,　the schooling,　the regimens　⸻　Leopard finds little of value to entertain herself with,　every citizen a careless deer at the roadside,　desperate for mechanized embrace.　Enobaria is different,　it seems.　Sharp as the whittled points of her teeth.　Someone worthy.

Routine carves itself of two women uniting to spar;　burn the energy,　burn the restlessness,　watch the ashes scatter onto the wind.　She wants to know what she’s thinking,　why that would be,　how to nestle herself among Eno’s thought processes for reason she alone cannot discern.　Sweat glistens down her pale neck as the altercation draws to a close,　and she reaches haphazardly for pristine bottled water,　the very best a victor’s money can buy.　It will be easy for her as long as she bows to the Capitol,　mindless dog that she is.　Heavy breath elevates into a rhythm,　reddened cheeks highlighting an otherwise stolid profile.　❛❛  You’re good.  ❜❜　A statement of the obvious that verges on the highest of her praises.　❛❛  I’m starting to wonder if we should do this more often.  ❜❜　The arm clutching the bottle extends outward in darling offering　⸻　drink up,　sweetheart.

@oddsfavorcd liked this post for a starter ; katniss & hazelle

gale had been sick for at least a week now. and while normally katniss does not make a habit of appearing where she isn't wanted ( minus the woods, but no one counts those ), this time is different. loaded with a few squirrels and a few tinctures and herbs her mother had given her for this exact trip, katniss stomps across the muddy path of the seam towards gale's house.

maybe the rain had gotten her hunting partner sick ; katniss is already soaked through, even with her father's hunting jacket taking the majority of the downpour. she keeps her head down as she approaches hazelle's doorstep, knocking twice, and attempting to keep her veritable haul balanced in her arms. a stray dog comes up and sniffs at her, no doubt smelling the freshly killed squirrel, and katniss looks down.

sometimes maritte feels frozen. forever eighteen and stained with the blood of a girl who could have been her friend in another world. but then she's forced to reckon with the time that has passed when a new victor is crowned.

enobaria had been that at one point. the stark realisation that she was no longer a child and instead of point of responsibility. their differences are fewer in recent years and something near to a friendship has formed. at least as close as victor's can be.

obsession prompts / accepting

Addy shrugs a little, "I don't think there's a victor out there who isn't incredibly weird." And she'd be delusional if she thought she wasn't also included in that. They all handle what's been done to them differently, and it all presents in different ways. For Addy, it was being closed off and driven by a desperate attempt to feel in control of her life to a point where she's not in control at all.

She's admittedly embarrassed to be at the other victor's door, some part of her knowing her anxiety is an overreaction, and yet she can't shake it. Still not quite used to being all alone in the house she grew up in. Her father's presence had been all-consuming in the house, and after his death, it hadn't been long until she found herself with Nicky and threw herself into that relationship. It's been years since their wedding night, his death, and yet she still gets uneasy when the house gets quiet.

she doesn't want to hear it. can't hear that the life of a victor isn't the freedom that was dangled in front of her throughout the arena.

she's gotten up from the table several times across the conversation, stopped from storming out every time by the thought that she has nowhere to go and noone to turn to. even if she was as close to henley as woof it's hardly like she would have anything else to say. it would just be sugar coated.