
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
art blog(derogatory)
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Not today Justin
YOU ARE THE REASON

No title available

Kaledo Art
Stranger Things
ojovivo
No title available
taylor price
occasionally subtle

pixel skylines
AnasAbdin
RMH

★

shark vs the universe
Claire Keane
🪼
tumblr dot com
seen from Brazil

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Türkiye

seen from Italy

seen from Philippines
seen from South Korea
seen from Canada
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from Netherlands
@drinkingawaythegames-blog
Otto. Well, that was certainly a change from the garbled mouthful that was usually bestowed upon the Capitol citizens in place of a name Haymitch could actually pronounce. For once, he was grateful, and made note to remember a name that could roll off of his tongue...
Shooting Otto a bleary-eyed glare at his remark, Haymitch slumped forwards, rolling his eyes slightly. There were a number of things he could snap back at Otto, but it would never result in a fight that usually resulted from it - this one looked as if he had enough sense to walk away when he agitated people. "Well," He began, slowly grinding his teeth. "I don't see you with a bottle of whiskey."
Haymitch glanced up then, exhaling slowly. These neon coloured uppity folk gave him a headache, and Otto seemed too drab to be one of them in Haymitch's eyes. He gave Otto another once-over, his mouth slightly open. "You sure you're one of them?" He jutted a finger at nearby man, wearing a suit the colour of lemons with spiky hair and nails to match.
//Time for me to go. I won't be on this weekend..
I wonder if when Haymitch and Effie are having sex Effie shouts THE ODDS ARE IN YOUR FAVOR.
One of my roommates. (via inglouriousmusic)
The sun had been up for hours, but the shades in District Twelve’s apartment had been drawn for days as Effie surrendered herself to sleepless nights as the Games continued on. For once, a few plates with food that hadn’t even been picked on stood on the table in a neat stack for the Avoxes to…
The Mentor in question had been up for half an hour, struggling to get dressed while nursing a pounding headache, courtesy of his latest hangover. Haymitch had only succeeded in getting a crumpled pair of trousers on, followed by a rather tatty dress shirt that strongly reeked of the bar he had spent most of his night in. Like Effie, Haymitch wanted to keep updated - but hearing her run down the hall screaming in high-pitched voice only made him wince as he wished for earplugs.
Haymitch gave a groan, running his hand through his stringy hair as he opened the door, poking his head out and squinting with bloodshot eyes at the barefoot figure running towards him like a three year old would run to a Christmas tree. This was how he wanted Effie, when she was deliciously rumpled and in clothing he considered normal, sans the makeup she hid he face with. Despite the steady throbbing in his head, Haymitch allowed himself a small smile.
“What is it, Princess?” He called back, frowning slightly as his head gave another painful throb, forcing him to bite his own tongue to keep back a ‘Can you keep it down, sweetheart?’. He braced himself for impact, however, as Effie had proven many times that she could only balance herself properly when wearing heels, and Haymitch had no wish to get knocked to the floor by a woman who was at least nine inches shorter than him, but could easy push him over whenever she lost her footing.
Although she seemed happy, Haymitch had his doubts about where her happiness stemmed from. Had their Tributes killed another Career or one of the remaining kids in the arena? Probably not, but the thought of it happening did not fill him with the hope of finally delivering a kid home alive for once, instead, it plagued him with the thoughts of another family, in some other District who had lost a child, which was something Effie would probably never think to see.
Nevertheless, Effie was happy about something, so Haymitch resolved to put on a smile for her at the moment, and he would keep it on unless the latest tidbit proved, well, gruesome. ”What’s the news, and what’s the catch, darl’n?”
Effie didn’t reply for a few moments as she began to skid to a stop, a burning sensation spreading through her feet as she skidded to a stop on the polished wood floor, her cheeks hurting from the large, genuine smile that lit up her face. Although she had slowed her speed, Effie still collided with Haymitch, and wrapped her arms around his waist as she nuzzled her head to his chest, almost gagging at the stench that wafted off of it.
She stepped back, the joyous news forgotten as worry creased her brow. From the less than spotless clothing to his bloodshot eyes, Haymitch Abernathy had managed to get himself hungover. Again. Time and again, it always surprised her, even though it happened almost every day. Sighing, she unwound her arms from his waist, bringing them to his face, her small hands ghosting the stubble on his cheeks as she stroked his jaw.
“Oh, Haymitch,” She murmured, sucking in a deep breath as she set her lips, pain visible in her eyes. He knew how much it upset her, no matter how much she understood his need to drown his sorrows in alcohol. At least he tried not to pass out in front of her, and that was a start.
Effie glanced down, taking in the bare feet, the trousers with the smudge of dirt on them, and the shirt that wasn’t buttoned properly, and she gave another sigh, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “I thought we had a talk about this,” She said softly, shaking her head. How were they to work - and live - together is Haymitch was too drunk to comprehend what she was saying half of the time?
A flicker of annoyance crossed his face as he bent down to press a soft kiss on her forehead, inhaling the scent of the vanilla perfume she wore. Just like a cake. Although he found her concern endearing, he was tired of it. Haymitch knew he could take care of himself without problem, no matter how drunk or hungover he was, besides, all he wanted to know was the 'important' news Effie had. There was no way she would speak about it until their little talk was over.
"We did, Princess," He began, his voice a quiet and slow murmur as he wrapped his arms around Effie's waist, pulling her back towards him. "We did." He let out a sigh, resting his head on top of her own, silent for a few moments as he struggled for words. Effie had always done the talking, words were her gift, not his.
He wanted to say that he was sorry, but how could he apologize for something her people had done to him? Yes, Effie didn't have a part in it, but he still couldn't bring himself to put down the glass for her. Not yet, at least. Right now, he wanted to drown out the Games by any means necessary. Effie would never understand, no matter how much she tried.
"Now, about that news, Princess..." He trailed off, slowly pulling away to look her steadily in the eyes, his own bloodshot ones serious and grim. The news had better be good, especially since his head was pounding and the room was spinning. He needed to lie down, but now was not the time - it never seemed to be the time. "What's wrong?" He took a deep breath, prepared for the worst.
The sun had been up for hours, but the shades in District Twelve’s apartment had been drawn for days as Effie surrendered herself to sleepless nights as the Games continued on. For once, a few plates with food that hadn’t even been picked on stood on the table in a neat stack for the Avoxes to...
The Mentor in question had been up for half an hour, struggling to get dressed while nursing a pounding headache, courtesy of his latest hangover. Haymitch had only succeeded in getting a crumpled pair of trousers on, followed by a rather tatty dress shirt that strongly reeked of the bar he had spent most of his night in. Like Effie, Haymitch wanted to keep updated - but hearing her run down the hall screaming in high-pitched voice only made him wince as he wished for earplugs.
Haymitch gave a groan, running his hand through his stringy hair as he opened the door, poking his head out and squinting with bloodshot eyes at the barefoot figure running towards him like a three year old would run to a Christmas tree. This was how he wanted Effie, when she was deliciously rumpled and in clothing he considered normal, sans the makeup she hid he face with. Despite the steady throbbing in his head, Haymitch allowed himself a small smile.
"What is it, Princess?" He called back, frowning slightly as his head gave another painful throb, forcing him to bite his own tongue to keep back a 'Can you keep it down, sweetheart?'. He braced himself for impact, however, as Effie had proven many times that she could only balance herself properly when wearing heels, and Haymitch had no wish to get knocked to the floor by a woman who was at least nine inches shorter than him, but could easy push him over whenever she lost her footing.
Although she seemed happy, Haymitch had his doubts about where her happiness stemmed from. Had their Tributes killed another Career or one of the remaining kids in the arena? Probably not, but the thought of it happening did not fill him with the hope of finally delivering a kid home alive for once, instead, it plagued him with the thoughts of another family, in some other District who had lost a child, which was something Effie would probably never think to see.
Nevertheless, Effie was happy about something, so Haymitch resolved to put on a smile for her at the moment, and he would keep it on unless the latest tidbit proved, well, gruesome. "What's the news, and what's the catch, darl'n?"
“The very same,” Haymitch grumbled, his frown deepening as she struggled to remember the debriefing Effie had given him earlier about all of the people she called friend. Through the haze of the liquor, Haymitch struggled to place the face before him with a name. “And you...
Otto. Well, that was certainly a change from the garbled mouthful that was usually bestowed upon the Capitol citizens in place of a name Haymitch could actually pronounce. For once, he was grateful, and made note to remember a name that could roll off of his tongue smoothly, even in his current state. "Can't say that 'm please to meet you."
His grin faded slightly as he glanced around, his murky eyes resting on the neon specks that were the so-called boring folks that Otto spoke of. The Capitol was far from boring, with the seemingly endless parties, but as for its people...the ones he was forced to covert with were indeed the dullest people on Earth, aside from the District Twelve team, who seemed more alive than ever. "Well, at least the place isn't boring."
//Claire how long was that starter, sweet Jesus.
gossipandsupervise started following you.
Haymitch raised an eyebrow - he'd never quite get over the shock of seeing a dolled up Capitol girl the first time around, and this one was no different. However, Haymitch dimly remembered that unlike the people in Twelve, Capitol citizens were used to being treated like royalty. He inclined his head, sucking in a quick breath. "Evenin', sweetheart."
passively-artistic started following you.
Haymitch glanced up, his brow creasing as he frowned. “Well,” He drawled, taking a small sip from his decanter. “If it isn’t another Capitol…” He trailed off, taking a good look at the stranger. He wasn’t dressed like the...
"The very same," Haymitch grumbled, his frown deepening as she struggled to remember the debriefing Effie had given him earlier about all of the people she called friend. Through the haze of the liquor, Haymitch struggled to place the face before him with a name. "And you must be..." He trailed off, leaving the name for the man before him to fill the gap with.
The posture differentiation with Otto's expression, however, was not lost on Haymitch. He cracked a grim smile, shoving his hands into his pocket. "I take it you're not happy to be so...privileged?"
Come here, dear - *Gives you a quick peck on the lips.*
Is that all, Princess?
Crew building a set for Catching Fire in Atlanta
22 / 100 Favorite Characters ↳ Haymitch Abernathy | The Hunger Games
passively-artistic started following you.
Haymitch glanced up, his brow creasing as he frowned. "Well," He drawled, taking a small sip from his decanter. "If it isn't another Capitol..." He trailed off, taking a good look at the stranger. He wasn't dressed like the others, or so it seemed. His hair was natural, his clothes were muted... Haymitch straightened, his frown deepening as he took another swig. "...Well, I'm not sure what you are."
ooc: i ship ally and gracie.
//Well, that didn't take long.
ooc: so gracieee
i’ll start up the rp ok bb
YOU JUST SIT TIGHT
and possibly ignore ally and her creeping
OR YOU COULD LOVE HER.
//Claire.
Calm down.
//I’m Ally.
ooc: so gracieee
i’ll start up the rp ok bb
YOU JUST SIT TIGHT
and possibly ignore ally and her creeping
OR YOU COULD LOVE HER.
//Claire.
Calm down.
//I’m Ally.