golden boy

Annie laughed and pressed a kiss to Finnick’s forehead before standing. “As much as I love being next to the both of you, I’m tired,” she said, gently adjusting the blanket around Jonah slightly. It wasn’t needed, but Annie always wanted everything to be perfect for their son.

Finnick smiles up at her, pressing one more kiss against her lips before she admits her exhaustion, something that Finnick can understand. However, he nods in understanding, as if silently granting her permission to leave the room and take as much rest as she needed.

"I’m glad, too. He’ll get a real childhood." It was a priceless gift neither of his parents had gotten, but she was ecstatic that she’d watch her so grow up with a Games.

"Finally. Someone in this world that deserves to.." Finnick whispers quietly, practically basking in the words that escape from his lips. He knows Annie understands how he feels in every way.

She smiled. “That we did,” she laughed quietly. It was a wonderfully healing thought that no matter how broken the both of them were, no matter how much they hurt, they’d created a beautiful little soul that was free from pain and free from danger.

"I'm glad that he was born after everything. It's the best for him," Finnick muses, eyes focusing on the small form in his arms. He's balancing everything, his food, their child, and the conversation between he and his wife. He was very happy, to say the least.

She nodded and tucked Jonah’s blanket around him, helping Finnick hold him. “I love watching you two. How much you love him,” she smiled. She was sure there wasn’t a father in all of Panem that loved their child as much as Finnick did.

"How couldn't I love him? He's ours after all. You....we made him," he comments, eyes looking down towards the sleeping baby. He wasn't even stirring, not the slightest bit. Jonah seems perfectly content in his fathers arms, something Finnick would always love and adore.

Rebecca paused her work on the computer screen, the fingertips of her left hand hovering over several blinking controls now activated. “You do have a choice,” Rebecca stated, feeling the importance of emphasizing it. She had been taken from her District, rescued before the Capitol had the chance to destroy her. It wasn’t exactly her choice, as hideously selfish that was to even think such a thing when so many had it much worse. But she remembered the night, when Katniss’ arrow triggered the rebellion as it was currently. Rebecca knew deep down in her gut that after her victory in her own Games, after the abuse she had witnessed inflicted on those she loved by the Capitol, she was too weak to fight any longer. Joining the Rebellion in 13 had never been part of the plan. She had no one, surely they could have left her in 3 to die….

Choice. None of them had a choice. Finnick had it ten times worse. No choice in his postion in the rebellion, decided for him the moment the Quarter Quell was announced, thrown into a plot schemed by a clever gamemaker and some government officials in a District they all thought to be gone. She doubted the Victor from 4 could recall the last time he had a choice. But here, unless he wanted to, unless he believed playing with the new weapon would provide some form of distraction, he wouldn’t have to. Sure Beetee had left her the instructions to get him conditioned on the weapon, but that wasn’t what seemed important right now.

His eyes focus on her when she tells him that he has a choice, something that he just simply can't believe. Finnick doesn't remember the last time he had a choice in the matter, the last time he was free from the Capitol's chains around his throat. He genuinely doesn't remember those times, those days being lost deserted in the dust of his past. Sure, he was still capable of happiness, but this mostly occurred when he was back in his home in Four. When he was back with the love of his life Annie. Now there's the Rebellion and he doesn't know if anyone is safe. He doesn't really know what choice he has at this point.

The moment that he was thrown into the Capitol's clutches at fourteen, he knew that he didn't have a choice in the world anymore. He was a puppet at the hands of the Capitol, them choosing what he did, what he said, and where he went. It wasn't up to Finnick anymore, not until this damned rebellion was done and over with. It made him angry and, yes, he admittedly sulked, but he felt like he had all the right in the world to do so.

Well!

Who would have thought that this tiny little blog would reach 400+ followers? I have no words to say how much I love this fandom and this story. I’m so glad that I can write Effie, and that so many of you think I do her justice. 

I could never enjoy this blog as much as I do without you, though. Each and every one of you are just so fantastic, and so nice. I’d love to be able to write and chat with everyone, but for now, this is a peek into some of the people that help me get through each week. 

This list is sadly a lot shorter than I’d like to be, but I’m only just getting back into the swing of things after a long hiatus, and many of my partners from before have been deactivated. That makes me sad, but so far, these lovely folks are inspiring me so much! You should follow!

My best buds:

oncameratwo: 

Vee. My buddy. My pal. The second side to my cranky old lady coin. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you, but I’m glad I don’t have to find out. I’m excited to eventually get back into our little plot for Effie and Pollux, but amidst our hundreds of other things we constantly have going, writing with you is pretty much my air and your friendship is even more than that. You’re the best. 

Her Pollux is based on the books, and a really fun, thorough take on the character. You guys should check it out, because it’s awesome.

drinkupsweetheart / hijackedup: 

My love! You have been a surprise in so many ways. I seriously thought you were stalking me for Lokane over on our marvel blogs, but when I stopped side eyeing you because of your epic Loki, I realised just how epic you are as a person. 

You’ve been such a sport keeping up with all our through the roof angst, and I adore you. 

Great Haymitch, great Peeta, and so much thought and care put into these two muses. Mitch (haha, Mitch in real life and as Haymitch) puts a ton of thought and honesty into his muses and I highly recommend all of them.

constantgrief :

You. You and your face. What do I even do with you? You were the first friend I made on this blog, and we can write some kickass Hayffie in just about any format. All the angst. It’s been so fun getting to know you and bickering with you, even if you do say I smell all the time, and I really do love your Haymitch.

This mun really brings the consequences of severe alcoholism to life in her muse. Haymitch isn’t just a drunk, he’s a very deliberately written drunk and Lysee really makes you face the fact that there are big time issues that come with drinking so heavily for so long, both physically and emotionally. 

Lovelies that put a smile on my face

finxodair, xcrestax, matriixrch, poseidonodairheis, the-lovely-primrose, sunsetorangemockingjay, dxstrictseven, tofxllapart, kxtnips, xlionhearts, alwaysprotecting, ixsaidxreal , vcltz,  

Peeta was used to pretending a lot of things, used to acting in front of the camera’s and creating a whole new persona of himself for whenever he was on camera. He had to, or else they’d hurt his family and friends and he could never live with himself if they did that. The baker would blame himself over and over and probably lose his mind even more than he already did over it. He quickly shook it from his mind for now.

And now that Finnick himself dwelled on it, Peeta was pretending more than ever now. It especially consisted of pretending that he was okay, but plenty of people did that to themselves. There was nothing you could do in a situation like this, being it a psychological problem, or just a problem that could never be mended. Peeta was healing, but the emotional scar would probably never heal. There was just something so horrendous about it that wouldn't make that possible.

Annie scoffed and tried not to laugh too loudly as not to wake Jonah. “Finnick Odair…” she sighed, shaking her head. He’d never failed once in making her laugh or smile.

He chuckles at her, keeping his laughter quieted because he prefers to not wake his sleeping son. Regardless, he loves to hear her find him humorous, even if he's being ridiculous.

    She leans into his touch, her eyes closing as a sigh fell     from between her lips. It was selfish, and she knew that.     But there was always that fear prickling under her skin,     haunting her. She was just afraid of losing him.

Finnick wouldn't leave her, God he would never do that. Every time the Capitol practically dragged him out of Four, Finnick felt his whole demeanor sink. He hated being away from his love, there was no worse torture in the entire world. Finnick hoped she knew that.

Send me “Sweater Weather” for my muse’s reaction to yours suddenly hiding under my muse’s sweater or shirt.

Finnick pulls away from her almost immediately, not knowing her and being thrown off by her strange gesture. He’d never seen her in Four before, so he was overall curious why she was there in the first place. Had she been someone new? He doubted it; there had to be more than that.

"I-I’m Eloise…just Eloise. Well, I guess it’s Eloise Dawson now, living with Ash and Lance." The couple was pretty well known in District 4 and some other districts, taking in orphans. Some either thought it was selfless and thoughtful or stupid and dangerous. 

"Again, I’m sorry. Hopefully it won’t happen again." She smirked, finally looking up at him instead of the gravel until she looked back after hearing distant running. The kids were gone. Typical.

"A family that doesn't feel like a family?" he questions, raising his eyebrow and looking at her curiously. He chuckles a little bit, finding his fingers to smooth out the material of his shirt. Said material had been rumpled up when she dived under it, but it was luckily not that big of a deal. Sure, he was a little...miffed still by the topic, but he tried to brush it aside, realizing it hadn't been her fault and she didn't sign up to be messing with the popular Finnick Odair. Because, yes, apparently he had that title even in his own District. Wonderful.

There were orphanages and the sort in plenty of Districts, but District Four had been rather prominent of said orphanages lately. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, just with ridiculous children after all. "Strange way to be meeting Eloise Dawnson," he teases, smiling a little at the edges of his lips. Because, yes, he's perfectly capable of smiling a real smile.

It was Natasha’s wish for the blonde to get to know and convince Finnick to marry her. What Kat did not realisize was the marriage had already been arranged and they were well on their way. She hated the prospect of it anyway. Not being able to choose and Finnick probably had a family or something back home. It wasn’t fair to either one of them.

One of the maids came up to get Kat, commenting about how pretty she looked, telling her Finnick had arrived and it was time to meet him downstairs. She stood and sighed, smoothing out her dress before retreating down, hand on the railing just like Natasha and her practiced.

Kat did a double take. He was even better looking than people described and nit caused the blonde to get nervous. Be calm.

Finnick knew better than anything that meeting her would have to occur. He couldn't dodge his way around this, pay his way out of it, or exchange secrets like he'd always done in the past. The Capitol adored him, but not enough to let him always have his way. Finnick knew that he wouldn't become that lucky ever, especially with President Snow becoming more involved in his life.

The fact that marriage was already arranged was exhausting, especially because Finnick had no desire to marry her. To live in the Capitol. He'd already lived there enough, only just returning to Annie before practically being thrown in the Capitol again. Being taken away from his only love, the person he'd loved more than anything, greatly angered his being.

Once he had arrived, however, he presented as if he was practically overjoyed to see his new bride to be. He didn't have a single clue if she knew about the arranged marriage, but he was sure that she was well aware of it. If she wasn't, well, she would know soon enough. Then he hears some noises towards the top of the stairs, directing his attention immediately.

Admittedly, she's rather attractive, but nothing that could overpower the love for the love of his life back home. Regardless, a small smile is presented towards her, faking coming easily to him.

     ” Maybe. But I shouldn’t of let them trick me like that. I could’ve done something. ”

"You were hijacked, Peeta..." Finnick utters under his breath, staring at him with those sea green eyes of his.

She knew they’d never sleep a full night’s sleep again, but if that meant holding her son for another hour or two, Annie could handle the lack of sleep. Maybe, just maybe, knowing that her son would never have the Reaping Day held over his head, sucking his childhood away, would give her some peace. Just not too soon.

Not getting a full night of sleep was rather normal for Finnick himself, but he found that he would sacrifice that for their son. He and Annie had decided to take turns on taking care of their son in the middle of the night. Honestly, he wasn't allthat loud, just the normal amount of wakings in the middle of the night. It was rather nice, actually, especially with the amount of peace he would have in his lifetime.

  The blonde would only look at the other, doe-like eyes flickering in search of Finnicks. He would’ve never thought, out of all of the people he knew, it was Finnick that he would be telling this to. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the guy, it’s just that he didn’t know him well enough.

Finnick didn't know why Peeta entrusted him so greatly, especially because of the fact that they didn't know each other well. Finnick knew Katniss much better, greatly better than Peeta, and yet here he was helping him. He didn't mind, of course, the trust just wasn't predicted.

   She knew the answer before he began, her eyes falling    to her lap. She expected nothing less of him. Underneath    the Capitol’s stereotype, he was noble. He was kind. He    was everything that a soldier should be, with probably    cause to fight. But she’d seen what they could do. She’d    known loss. And she wasn’t sure if she could handle losing    him too.

Finnick hated seeing that look on her face, would do anything to take it away, but he knows he wasn't capable of that. He didn't have a single choice, had to try and be fair with her, but it seemed like there was something brewing under them. He tries to get closer to her, caressing the edge of her cheek, remotely sad eyes staring at her.