asker

honeylime08 asked: Consider MagicTongue!Peeta prompted.

jeeno2:

(For honeylime08 and wistfulweaverwoman: the gripping conclusion to the SmallDick!Peeta saga.)

—————

The following morning dawned clear and cold in the kingdom of Notthisagain.  

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asker

everythingbutthemockingjay asked: Little toastbaby (girl or boy) gets stage fright on during the end of year school show! Mommy and Daddy have to come to the rescue :)

jeeno2:

For the most part, I like my job as District Twelve’s primary school teacher.

It’s extremely rewarding work.  Paylor’s government makes certain our pay is decent.  And the kids are just adorable.

There was one incident, however, during my very first year of teaching, that made me question my decision to go into this line of work in the first place.

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paulthomasquells:

calculatingvictor:

relahvant:

perpetualvelocity:

moonjellys:

proudgayconservative:

nolanthebloghog:

The bomb is dropped

The kittens sort of soften the blow.

this is the shittiest post ever. please unfollow me if you agree with this post also shame on OP for using cute kittens for this garbage post

not sure what it is exactly that makes this post so shitty? Because it’s promoting actual equality? instead of saying that you can call everyone else shit because you are part of an oppressed party you can say you are equal to them doesn’t exactly sound like a shitty idea to me.

BOOM. So many people on this website need to read this twice, let it sink in and then read it again.

The kittens speak the truth…

^^ THIS

sponsormusings:

Chapter 16 of Portrait of a Victor is now up on A03 and FFN

sponsormusings:

Chapter 16 of Portrait of a Victor is now up on A03 and FFN

(via baronesskika)

Good morning xxx

oupacademic:

'What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?' 
The First World War produced an extraordinary flowering of poetic talent, from poets whose words commemorate the conflict as enduringly as monuments in stone. This new anthology of First World War poetry that brings together the best poetry by soldiers and civilians, including women poets, with a fresh assessment of their work.
Follow our Classics on Twitter or like them on Facebook for more great literature.

oupacademic:

'What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?'

The First World War produced an extraordinary flowering of poetic talent, from poets whose words commemorate the conflict as enduringly as monuments in stone. This new anthology of First World War poetry that brings together the best poetry by soldiers and civilians, including women poets, with a fresh assessment of their work.

Follow our Classics on Twitter or like them on Facebook for more great literature.

(via forthegenuine)

thgrares:

new fan pic!

thgrares:

new fan pic!

(via sponsormusings)

asker

Anonymous asked: Can you write a Drabble of peeta coming back from the army and when he arrives at the airport katniss is waiting for him with a baby girl (new born) (because she was pregnant when he left) I'm so sorry to be asking like this but it's my birthday and it would mean the world if you could do it today 💞

baronesskika:

dracoisalooker76:

Oh gosh, I’m such a sucker for birthdays and soldiers meeting their babies. Happy birthday, anon! This is real quick, since I’m supposed to be getting ready, but I’m going to be away most of today and wanted to get this done for your birthday. I tweaked your prompt just a tad, but I hope you still like it :)

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Fifteen Months. 456 days. It’s only a little more than a year, but it has felt like nothing less than a lifetime. And, of course it has, because I missed everything.

There’s been a lot that’s gone on since I left. My best friend from childhood got married. Gale sent me pictures from the wedding and didn’t have a best man because he said he couldn’t pick someone else. Rory stood in and made the speech that needed to be said, written by me in a letter. But it wasn’t quite the same. 

My dad expanded the bakery.  He now has two locations and a third in the works. It’s been his dream since I was a kid and now he’s finally making it work. My older brother graduated from medical school. My other brother proposed to his girlfriend. My mother apparently held her tongue the entire night of their engagement party.

That’s what I missed the most.  The moments.  The things that happened while I was halfway across the world.

When I walk out into the auditorium, where they’ve bused us all from the airport so we can greet our families in relative peace, my eyes are immediately looking for her.  I wonder if I’ll recognize her.  If the grainy pictures and the constantly freezing Skype sessions are enough for me know, just by glance, what she looks like.

I find Katniss instantly and I take off as soon as I’m able.  I jump off the stage and take as few steps as I can until she’s in my arms, with tears streaming down my face. It feels so good to touch her again. I haven’t in fifteen months and that’s the longest I’ve gone from seeing her since we were fourteen years old. 

Just as I go to kiss her I feel a punch against my chest and the squirmy little being we’ve caught in our embrace. 

“Meet your daughter,” Katniss says. The exchange only takes a moment.

Katniss and I found out she was pregnant exactly one week before I left. It had been such a bittersweet moment, full of fear and longing. I worried every day about what might happen to her if I didn’t come back and spent the first few days with my head on her belly, talking to something that was barely the size of a kidney bean.  When I left, when I had to turn my back on Katniss and have her travel this journey alone, I was sick to my stomach. I cried in the plane. 

I’ve seen pictures. Katniss has Skyped me with the baby so I could see.  Unfortunately I couldn’t swing a leave to be here for the birth and then I just chugged through knowing I’d see her, knowing the day would come eventually.  And now it has.

She’s not a newborn anymore. I missed that stage completely.  She might start walking before long and she probably already babbles. I don’t know much about babies, so Katniss will have to teach me, but I want to learn. I want to spend all my time with her, with her mother – my girls.

I hear the snap behind me and look up only briefly to find the photographer from the local paper has taken our photo.  He comes over to show us the picture on the back screen and then asks for our names if we’re willing to let them use it.  He’d like to have this be the picture that goes with the story of our troop’s arrival back to the state. 

He jots it down and then shows us the working caption, to make sure everything’s right.

SPC Peeta Mellark, 23, meets his daughter Lucy for the first time at the Panem County Civic Center. Lucy was born during Mellark’s 15-month deployment in Iraq. 

I nod my head and the photographer moves on, allowing me to turn back to my wife.  Katniss has tears in her eyes. I lean over and kiss her. 

“I love you so much,” I tell her. Then I press a kiss to our daughter’s temple.  ”I love you both so much.”

“We’re just happy to have you back.”

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