Sometimes I think about everlark and it makes me so happy and sad that I feel like I need to puke.





#interview with the vampire#iwtv#the vampire armand#assad zaman
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Taiwan

seen from Australia

seen from Maldives
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from Maldives
seen from Russia
seen from Chile
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Brazil

seen from Canada

seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
Sometimes I think about everlark and it makes me so happy and sad that I feel like I need to puke.
Mother Katniss
#peetamellark #everlarkbabies #hungergames #katnisseverdeen
We'll Be Alright- chapter 2 (sorta I guess)
Hello fangirls and boys! Not being on here in like a week has given me anxiety. I love posting for you guys! So here is a continuation of We'll Be Alright. Shoutout to you, anon. Anyway, this chapter didn't start out so well, but with the help of my best friend, katwalrus (go follow her), it turned out SO much better. She helped me make it sound more like the way Suzanne Collins would have written it. This type of thing is so much fun to write. I hope I've done it justice. Also, I'm not sure if I should continue FADING, because I haven't been getting much feedback on it. Anyway, bless you if you've read all of this so far. I hope you enjoy the story. Later, lovebugs, and happy Valentine's Day!
-Lily <3
"Matthew."
I shake my head at Peeta's suggestion and find a spot on the wall on which to fix my stare.
"Maxim? Vladimir?" he asks hopelessly.
At this I just laugh and punch him in the shoulder.
"Well, then, I'm at a loss, Katniss," he laughs, rubbing his now-sore arm.
I direct my blank gaze back at the wall.
"It needs to be something... suitable for a little boy and an adult man," I tell him, thinking. "But it also needs to represent us somehow."
I throw my hands up after a while. We've been sitting here, on our bed, for hours, contemplating a name for our son, who'd better be ready to pop out any minute, because he's already a week late. And killing me.
"Come here." Peeta pats his lap.
I look at him, unsure.
"I'm twenty pounds heavier than you're used to," I tell him.
He waves me over anyway, so I comply. I lower myself hesitantly onto his legs, expecting a sound of discomfort from him. I hear nothing, so I put all my weight onto his lap.
"There's no need to get frustrated, Catnip," he says into my ear, referring to the name Gale used to call me, though it doesn't sound quite right coming from Peeta. "We'll get it eventually."
"But I want to come to an agreement about this, you know? Plus, baby here seems to have gotten a little too comfortable." I place my hand over his, which is already grazing my oversized belly.
"I probably shouldn't say 'I know' here, but I'm ready for him just as much as you are," he says, his fingers now removed from my stomach and interlocked with mine.
The sight of my own swollen abdomen astonishes me, even now, already a week past my due date. Am I really ready for another child?
As much as I love Marnie, the image of two children wreaking havoc around this huge house scares me. And even more intimidating is the ever-present fear of Peacekeepers. Lots of them, taking my family. Torturing them, or worse. Peacekeepers have been gone for ages now, ever since the fall of the Capitol, but the fear is sill there.
It's not the financial aspect that worries me. Believe me, Peeta and I have enough money to feed the old District 12 for life. Even after these five years of raising my daughter, the title of "mother" is still daunting to me. The idea of someone being solely dependent on you for... well, who knows how long.
Peeta must see the concern stretched across my sleepless face.
"You want this baby. Real or not real?" he asks me.
I look at him, surprised. We haven't played this game in years.
"I don't really have a choice at this point, do I?" I respond.
"Well, I guess not, but I want to know your feelings about this. Your sincere feelings." He seems serious.
I smile at him tiredly and capture his lips in a kiss. He seems stunned at first, but then he returns it.
I pull away. Then I tell him, surprising even myself, "It's real, Peeta. It's more real than anything."
The doorbell rings, and we both jump. I guess we'd been sleeping.
I rise from Peeta's lap, having forgotten that Marnie comes home from kindergarten at this hour.
I start to move towards the door, but Peeta stops me, aware of my inability to do anything much but sit.
So that's what I do. I sit, and I listen to the sound of the door opening, the sounds of my perfect husband and my perfect daughter squealing together with glee.
I leave the room and look over the banister. Peeta has his hands under Marnie's armpits, and he's swinging her around in the air. Her shrieks of laughter fill the air, and I smile down at the two of them.
When Peeta eventually lowers our daughter to the ground, she stumbles around a bit, dizzy and giggling, until she sees me descending the stairs.
"Mommy!" she shouts, and tumbles into my open arms.
I hug her tightly, my face buried in her chocolate-brown curls.
"Hi, cupcake," I whisper in her ear, then hold her at arm's length. "How was school today?"
At this she beams and launches into a detailed, if rather jumbled, description of her day.
"...and then Ms. Jones said there was this thing once called 'the Hungry Games' or something," she rambles.
My head snaps up from the newspaper I've picked up at this point. My eyes lock onto Peeta's. He looks just as shocked as I feel.
We made a promise to each other when Marnie was born that we would wait a while to explain to her what we experienced when we were young. But now it seems we were wrong.
Marnie's moved on, though, mumbling about some craft that they did, and I try my hardest to still my now-rapidly-beating heart.
"Did you think of a name for my brother yet, Mommy?" Marnie interrupts my thoughts.
"So you're finally okay with my baby being a boy now, pumpkin?" I ask her with a smile, and she nods.
"No, sweet pea, we were hoping you could help us with his name," Peeta tells her.
Her face lights up and soon she's deep in thought. Peeta's always known just what to say to make her feel special.
"I know!" Marnie blurts. "How about... Chicken!"
As silly as it was, we all burst into a fit of giggles. When we've settled down, Marnie still looks delighted that she was so clever.
While she's distracted, Peeta and I make eye contact. Through a series of silent words and signals, we formulate a plan.
I motion with my fingers. One, two...
"Three!" I yell, and Peeta and I pounce on Marnie, tickling her most sensitive areas.
She shrieks with laughter, and attempts to push us off before running to the couch for refuge. We all settle there, the occasional giggle bubbling from Marnie.
It's eight o'clock, almost Marnie's bed time, but I don't plan on forcing her upstairs any time soon. I wouldn't want to ruin this moment.
She and Peeta sit at the kitchen table, her giving him ideas for a drawing, and him creating an exaggerated, off-kilter version of it. Her laughter permeates everything else, and there's a permanent smile glued onto my face. This life once seemed so overwhelming, but now I know I can handle it, even if it includes another child.
So when I feel that familiar tug down below, the same one I had when I was pregnant with Marnie, I stride into the kitchen and clasp Peeta's hand.
"It's time," I whisper.
I don't think I've ever seen a bigger grin on his face.
We'll Be Alright
Hello fangirls and boys! This story is to fill the request of an anon, and I think it was really fun to write. I wasn’t sure how long to make it, so I hope the length is appropriate. Anyway, feedback and other requests are always encouraged (Lord knows I don’t have a life anyway). Enjoy!
-Lily <3
We’ll Be Alright
I wake to small hands touching my face. Jolting awake, I find myself staring into the wide eyes of my daughter, Marnie.
"Mommy?" she whispers. She looks so concerned, and for a moment I think something terrible has happened.
"What is it, cookie?" I ask her.
"You had another dream. You were screaming again. I got scared, Mommy."
She’s right. I was having a nightmare. Now that I’m heavily pregnant with my second child, the fear of Peacekeepers breaking into my home and taking my children has begun again. It happened when I was with-child the first time, too.
"I’m so sorry, my angel. I’m okay, I promise." She seems to relax at this.
I slide out of bed and scoop her into my arms.
"You’re getting to be big, my special girl," I whisper to her, and she giggles. There is nothing I love more than the sound of my child enjoying herself.
Sometimes I worry that she won’t feel safe in this home. I have my nightmares. Peeta has his hijacking flashbacks, and although they’re scarce, they’re serious when they occur.
"How’s my sister, Mommy?" Marnie asks me, and places her delicate hands on my ever-growing tummy.
"How are you so sure it’s a girl, pumpkin?" I tease. "How are you so sure it’s even human? Maybe it’s a big, scary monster!” I tickle her with these last words, and she cackles and pushes my hands away.
"Let’s go back to bed, my flower." I take her hand and lead her back to her room.
When Peeta painted the space, he made sure to consult with Marnie first. He let her tell him everything she wanted on the walls, and he never questioned a thing she said. That’s what I love about him. I knew he would be a good father, so tender and gentle. At the same time, though, so disciplinary and so much like a teacher to her.
I lay Marnie in bed and turn to go, but her hand stays on my arm to stop me.
"Will you sing me the Meadow song, Mommy?" She looks up at me with big eyes. Those eyes that get me every time, whether she’s begging for an extra pastry made by Daddy, or trying to get out of trouble.
"Of course, cupcake," I respond, and sit back down beside her on this tiny bed, beginning to sing.
By the time I’ve finished the song, Marnie’s asleep and it’s almost dawn.
"Wow," I whisper. I hadn’t realized how much time had gone by since my daughter shook me awake from the hell that, for me, comes with sleep.
I slip out of Marnie’s room and into my own. I pick up the book that Peeta and I made such a long, long time ago and turn to the first page. There’s no point in trying to sleep anyway.
By early morning I’ve gotten dressed and am making pancakes for Marnie and Peeta.
My husband trudges into the kitchen, still shaking off sleep, and wraps his arms around my waist from behind and kisses my neck.
"Good morning," he says into my ear, and even though I’m facing away from him, I can hear the smile in his voice.
"Good morning, baby," I say back, and I turn around so his lips can meet mine.
He grins against my mouth. “You’re cooking?” he asks sarcastically.
"Don’t be a smartass," I respond, and tangle my fingers through the long waves of his hair to continue the kiss.
"Gross!" I hear from behind me. Marnie’s awake and covering her eyes. I don’t blame her; I’d be disgusted, too, if I caught my parents locking lips in the middle of the kitchen.
Peeta and I both chuckle. Marnie finally peeks out from behind her hands.
"Are you guys done yet?" she groans. She definitely got that cynical tone from me. I smile down at her and kiss the top of her head.
"Good morning, baby bear," I say to her. "Have you gotten your books together yet?"
She recently started kindergarten and, much to my and Peeta’s relief, she loves it. Most parents can’t say that, but luckily, not a day has gone by where we’ve had to force her to get ready and go to school.
"Yes, Mommy, I have, while you and Daddy were kissing!” she exclaims, and I laugh again.
She scampers to the kitchen table to go over a paper for homework, and I gaze at her.
She was unfortunate enough to inherit my crazy, dark-brown locks, though I was pretty excited to see the charcoal-colored fuzz that covered her head when she was born.
Her beautiful cornflower-blue eyes, given to her by Peeta, roam over the paper, deep in concentration. She does much better in the school environment than I ever did, thank God.
I never thought I’d be here, with one perfect child already showing signs of both Peeta and me. And with one on the way, and who knows how that one will turn out. But I’m excited for this journey that we’ll all take, and I can’t wait to see where it lands us.
"Katniss?" Peeta’s voice interrupts my reverie.
I turn around. “Yeah?” I ask.
"Pancakes are burning."
"Shit!" I exclaim.
"Mommy, that’s a bad word!"
♛
My favorite thing about your blog: theme
What fandom I associate you with the most: thg or doctor who
What I think of your URL: like it
If I follow you: no sorry