It Is Important For Campers To Trust Their Staff.

He's as useful as the "G" in lasagna.

SLYTHERIN: “Everyone has talent. What’s rare is the courage to follow it to the dark places where it leads.” -Erica Jong

The Pink Rose, part 1

*GIF creator unknown

Part One- July 4th, 74 ADD Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader

Word Count: 2,462

Warnings: 18+, fluff and smut, nightmares, witnessed death, implication of death, alcoholism, unprotected sex, sex after drinking, age gap, heterosexual relationship

**** Almost all characters and parts of the storyline are not my original creation and are credited to Suzanne Collins. And please be nice… I’ve never written fanfic or spicy things before- we’re starting vanilla. I will mark where the 18+ part starts and ends.

The cold night air smelled like fire and salt. The arena for the 61st Hunger Games was set up like a quarry next to the sea. [Y/n] was the 15-year-old tribute from District 12. Taking advantage of the low light and tall grass, the only other tributes were in her line of sight and fighting to the death. Spruce Silentsong - District 7 - and Millie Forge - District 2, were engaged in battle and had no idea [Y/n] was watching. Spruce was armed with two hand axes, which served her well-being from the lumber district. Millie had a sword in one hand and a mace in the other. The sword had once been in [Y/n]’s possession, but when Millie and the other careers descended on the District 9, 11, and 12 alliance, [Y/n] was the only one who made it out; without her weapon.

The gurgle of someone choking on blood sounded, followed by the thud of a falling body. [Y/n] thought Spruce must have hesitated. She’d scored high in the assessment, but Millie thirsted for blood. The gong sounded, marking the death of another tribute. 22 down, 1 to go. [Y/n] was still about 12 yards from Millie, but she knew she needed to act while Millie caught her second wind. She looked down to double-check how many throwing knives she had. [Y/n] looked away for half a second and her face rose to lock eyes with a piercing blue set, inches from her face. [Y/n] screamed.

She thrashed for a moment before realizing she was in her bed. She’d left the arena 13 years ago, but the nightmares stuck around. [Y/n] breathed heavily as she sat up and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead. Feeling the sheets next to her, she noticed they were cold and suddenly became aware of the early morning light streaming through the cracks in the curtains, highlighting the dust in the air.

Making her way downstairs, the familiar smell of hard liquor hit her nose. It’s too early for this- she thought as she scanned the room for her neighbor. Haymitch Abernathy was the only other living District 12 Victor. He’d won 11 years before her, and the last Victor from 12 was decades before him- it was just them to understand each other in their whole district. It was just them in Victor’s Village. Haymitch and [Y/n] had both lost their families due to their young defiance of President Snow and the Capitol. It wasn’t uncommon for one of them to stay at the other’s house in the month leading up to the Reaping. The closer the games got, the more frequent their demons seemed to visit. It was easier to help if they were under the same roof. In the last 2 years, they had taken to sleeping next to each other for comfort. Despite Haymitch’s frequent drunken stupor, they had developed a friendship built on sarcasm, life experience, and a unique outlook on the world that only a Hunger Games Victor could have. About 6 years of friendship later, the relationship turned platonic. This would seem odd to someone outside the relationship, but it was no bother to them. In his moments of being nearly sober, Haymitch was quite charming and a kind man with a sense of humor.

In the last two years, [Y/n] noticed that of all the people she interacted with in District 12, Haymitch was the one who could make her feel happy. He irritated the hell out of her sometimes, but she couldn’t deny that she had fallen for him. She didn’t expect him to return the feelings; people might not like the age gap and think her former mentor had taken advantage of her. Haymitch might be a good friend, but he may also be disgusted at the thought of any romance with someone he’d known since she was a teenager.

She stopped in the living room and found Haymitch asleep in the armchair with a bottle in one hand and what looked to be his shirt in the other. [Y/n] knew better than to get too close when waking up someone who’d been drinking. She stood a few feet away and threw a small couch cushion at him. Haymitch jumped and yelled at the sudden contact. “Dammit [Y/n]- what the hell are you doing?” he shouted after realizing where he was.

“Demons paid me a visit- do you have enough to share?” she nodded to the bottle that was still in Haymitch’s hand.

“Oh,” he faltered, “Help yourself, sweetheart,” She took a long swig before Haymitch reacted, “That bad, huh?”

“Don’t act like we don’t have the same dreams,” she pointed before taking another gulp.

The liquid had a comforting warmth as it ran down her throat but it still burned and created the feeling of stinging in her nostrils. The bittersweet feeling of downing alcohol was enough to take her mind off the Hunger Games. The more she drank, the more she understood why Haymitch kept himself in this state.

After almost an hour, [Y/n] could feel the heat in her cheeks and the chaotic feelings from earlier were almost gone. The dullness of her senses and her subdued anxiety were a treat. She looked over and noticed Haymitch was starting to nod off.

“Hey! Don’t leave me alone,” She said loud enough to bring Haymitch back.

Haymitch sighed, “What do you need sweetheart? You know I’m not the best company after drinking,”

Neither am I, she thought, “Hold me?” she suggested.

Haymitch stared at her before nodding his head and waving her over. [Y/n] climbed into his lap- he was larger than she was; this allowed him to envelope her in his arms with ease. She nuzzled her face into his chest. She could feel the old scars across his abdomen and tried not to think about when he got them. She was almost 5 during his games, but she remembered the vivid sight. Haymitch could feel [Y/n]’s slow, quiet tears run down his chest and he gave her a slight squeeze. Within half an hour, the inebriated duo was asleep.

Haymitch woke up, still mildly intoxicated, but much closer to sobriety than he was normally comfortable with. It was the day of the Reaping for the 74th Hunger Games. He heard the small woman in his lap begin to stir. She looked up at him with her deep [y/e/c] eyes and smiled. This girl- no- this woman was the closest thing he had to a family. He was the town drunk. He had business associates and people who tolerated him. Haymitch was a grown man, he never looked twice at the tributes or considered them family, much less friends. He’d hugged [Y/n] before, but this was different. For the first time in 24 years, Haymitch thought, What if she loved me?

He shook the thought from his head and felt disgusted with himself- she was so much younger than him and he didn’t want to ruin what they had spent the last 13 years building. When they met, he was already 27 and she was 15. The thought that they could be happy together would have been inappropriate then and it should be now. Right? Haymitch thought to himself that just because she was 28 and old enough to make her own decisions, that did not make a shift to intimacy okay. [Y/n] continued to smile at him; it had been a long time since anyone was happy to see him. He knew he irritated [Y/n], but she was never genuinely angry with him and still acknowledged him with kindness. They had developed some kind of relationship that was more than friends, but he couldn’t quite figure it out.

“Did you sleep alright this time, sweetheart?” he asked.

[Y/n] gave a soft chuckle, “I did- and it seems you did too,”

“What’s so funny?”

[Y/n] gave a little wiggle of her hips to emphasize that Haymitch had an erection and it was pressed right against her rear.

He gave a startled little jump and had a look of horror on his face, “I’m sorry-”

[Y/n] stopped him from getting up, “It’s okay, I don’t mind” She looked up at him through her eyelashes.

Haymitch raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side “Are you still drunk?”

[Y/n] laughed and quickly swung one leg over him so she was straddling him and he was situated right in front of her. He was so erect that he pressed against her stomach.

“No,” she leaned in and tickled his ear with a whisper, “But I’m quite wet,”

He gulped and tried to control his breathing. She was trying to… seduce him? But he’d been her mentor. But she was suggesting it. But he’d known her since she was 15. But she started this exchange. Conflicting thoughts raced through his mind. [y/n] saw the look on his face that was a mixture of shock and confusion- not someone who was willing to continue.

She turned her face away from him, “I’m sorry- I get it if I overstepped the boundary… I didn’t even ask,” she moved to get off him, but Haymitch grabbed her waist and told her to wait.

“[Y/n]- sweetheart- you’re beautiful and I’m not calming down,” he nodded down towards his erection, “But I’m not a good person. You deserve someone better- someone who won’t make you look bad in public. Not some drunk who takes advantage of a younger woman,”

[Y/n] didn’t know he felt this way. She grabbed his chin and demanded he look into her eyes.

“Haymitch Abernathy- I don’t deserve anything less than the man who is my greatest source of comfort, my biggest ally, my closest friend, and the person who currently has his cock in my lap,”

Haymitch was startled at her direct statement- he didn’t know she felt that way. He cupped her face with one hand and slightly tightened his grip on her waist. [Y/n] was more developed than most women in District 12. Haymitch couldn’t deny that he’d noticed her defined hourglass figure before, but who hadn’t?

“Kiss me” [Y/n] demanded quietly.

Haymitch nodded slowly, hesitated, and pressed his lips to hers. They started slow, and then [Y/n] traced his lips with her tongue. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gradually became less gentle in how she kissed him. She felt herself getting more excited and began to move her hips back and forth. Haymitch let out a deep sigh at the feeling of her against him. He ran his rough hands up her torso and his thumbs over her hard nipples. Her soft breasts filled his hands perfectly and felt so good as he cupped them. [Y/n] pulled her face away and swiftly removed her nightshirt. She hadn’t worn pants to bed so she now sat on top of him in her panties. She pulled his face back to hers in the neediest way she could muster.

“Haymitch, I need you,”

“You have me,”

“I need you inside me,” she clarified.

Haymitch’s eyes widened as he paused, but he wasted no time lifting her off his lap to rip off his pants. [Y/n] used this moment to remove her underwear as she noticed he didn’t have any either. They stood there naked for less than a second before Haymitch guided her a few feet over to the sofa. She lay down and Haymitch crawled on top of her. He reached between her legs and ran his thumb in soft slow circles as he made eye contact and used his other hand to line up his aching length with her entrance.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked hesitantly

[Y/n] nodded.

“You have to say it,” he said seriously.

“Yes Haymitch, I want you- are you comfortable with this?” she asked.

“Yes,” he didn’t even hesitate; he hoped he wasn’t coming off as desperate- but that look she gave him was enough encouragement. Haymitch’s eyes turned dark as he slowly slipped into her. [Y/n] gasped as he pushed the rest of his length inside her soaking wet entrance. Haymitch was a little longer than average, but his girth filled her up as he thrust into her. He slowly picked up his pace- [Y/n] leaned her head back and moaned. Her plump lips made the perfect “O” shape before she said his name.

To see the way she reacted to his touch and hear how she moaned his name, Haymitch didn’t want this to stop- but he could feel the blood flowing and the heightened emotions. He didn’t want to be the first one to finish. He started to slow down and [Y/n] gave him a look of confusion. He cupped her cheek, removed himself from her body, and slid down making his face even with hips. [Y/n] looked down at Haymitch and smiled mischievously, biting her lip. Haymitch hooked his arms under her thighs so her knees were over his shoulders. He smiled up at her and then plunged his tongue into her folds. [Y/n] felt the jolt of electricity from the contact with her clit. Her hips bucked closer to his face and her head fell back.

“Oh my days, Haymitch,” she whined.

“How do you want it sweetheart?” he said with his mouth still against her.

[Y/n] smirked, turned around, and said, “Just fuck me, Haymitch,”

He quickly stood up and bent her over. She was so wet that it was much easier to dive his whole length inside her. Making her moan his name more, Haymitch gave it his all with quick hard thrusts. In the back of his mind, he prayed that this felt as good for her as it did for him.

Feeling her whole body tense up, [Y/n] groaned through gritted teeth, “Fuck, I’m cumming!”

Haymitch was almost there too, “Yes, beautiful, cum on this cock,”

Suddenly the door flew open, “Haymitch you better not - AHH!!” Effie Trinket covered her eyes and ran out of the room with an impressive speed for someone wearing heels that high.

Haymitch and [Y/n] froze how they were. Still inside her, Haymitch said, “Well that’s an experience I never thought I’d have,”

[Y/n] looked over her shoulder and asked, “What? Fucking me or getting caught doing it?”

Haymitch sighed, “Cumming at the moment I got caught by her,”

They both laughed as Haymitch stood up and walked over to the kitchen to get a towel. They needed to clean up and clear the air with Effie.

Masterlist

The Pink Rose, part 4

Part Four- July 5th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader (vaguely, part 4 is mostly filler- sorry)

Word count: 1,444

Warnings: Brief violence, weapons, and reference to death

[Y/n] had slept too late, she knew Effie was going to be upset with her. She quickly readied herself to make a Capitol appearance when they arrived. Making her way to the dining car, she prepared herself to get some snide remark about punctuality from Effie. As soon as the car door opened, [Y/n] saw Peeta slap the glass of wine from Haymitch’s hand as Peeta said, “Only not to us!”

A half second later, Haymitch punched Peeta’s jaw, knocking him to the ground before reaching for the liquor cart. Without missing a beat, [Y/n] and Katniss each grabbed a knife from the nearest place setting. Katniss drove her knife into the table between Haymitch’s hand and the bottle, barely missing his fingers. In the same second, [Y/n] expertly threw a knife and sent it directly through the space between Haymitch and Katniss causing them to lean apart from each other.

Haymitch sat back in his chair, first raising an eyebrow at [Y/n], then looking at their tributes, “Well, what’s this?” he said, “Did we actually get a pair of fighters this year?”

Peeta rose to his feet and reached for the ice for his jaw, but Haymitch stopped him.

“No,” Haymitch smirked, “Let the bruise show. The audience will think you’ve mixed it up with another tribute before you’ve even made it to the arena.”

“That’s against the rules,” Peeta shot back.

“Only if they catch you. That bruise will say you fought but you weren’t caught, even better,” 

[Y/n] opened her mouth to protest but Haymitch held up a finger and turned to Katniss. “Can you hit anything with that knife besides a table?”

With an eerily blank expression on her face, Katniss removed the knife from the table and flicked it away, lodging it directly between two of the decorative wall panels. [Y/n] and Haymitch exchanged impressed looks.

“Both of you come stand over here,” [Y/n] said seriously, nodding to the middle of the room. Not being Haymitch, the tributes obeyed. [Y/n] and Haymitch examined Katniss and Peeta. They weren’t completely malnourished and seemed strong enough.

“Well, you’re not entirely hopeless. Seem fit,” Haymitch said.

[Y/n] added, “And once the stylists get hold of you, you’ll be attractive enough for the sponsors… I would know,” 

Peeta and Katniss didn’t question this, the Hunger Games weren’t a beauty contest, but the best-looking tributes always seemed to pull more sponsors.

“All right, I’ll make a deal with you two, actually, all of you,” He looked directly at Effie that time, “You don’t interfere with my drinking, and I’ll stay sober enough to help [Y/n] help you. But you have to do exactly what I say.”

“Fine,” says Peeta.

“So help us,” Katniss interjected, “When we get to the arena, what’s the best strategy at the Cornucopia for someone—”

“One thing at a time. In a few minutes, we’ll be pulling into the station. You’ll be put in the hands of your stylists. You’re not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don’t resist,” says Haymitch.

“But —” Katniss began.

Haymitch opened his mouth and [Y/n] held up her hand that time, “No buts- just let them do their job,” she nodded at both tributes, “But if they make you too uncomfortable, you tell me and I’ll handle it,”

Haymitch left the car and the train entered the last tunnel before the Capitol. As soon as the train left the tunnel, the Capitol came into view. Peeta and Katniss ran to the window to see the ruling city of Panem. As they pulled into the station, the people begin to point at Katniss and Peeta eagerly as they recognized a tribute train rolling into the city. Katniss stepped away from the window, but Peeta stayed, waving and smiling at the crowd. He stopped once out of view.

He turned to Katniss and said “Who knows? One of them may be rich.”

[Y/n] chuckled at how fast Peeta was learning and he seemed to be ready to fight in every way. Haymitch definitely misjudged him. But [Y/n] still worried about Katniss. That girl must have a hard time trusting anyone.

*     *     *

Katniss and Peeta had an interesting introduction to the Capitol- one [Y/n] still cringed at the thought of. [Y/n] at least had an idea of what Katniss would experience- exfoliated, waxed, tweezed, and practically hosed down. Then they would take her barely covered body to go meet a stranger who would decide what she wears in front of Panem. Unlike other years, [Y/n] liked the District 12 Stylist, Cinna. Even Haymitch didn’t seem to mind him. They hoped this up-and-coming stylist would make their tributes something worthwhile.

Haymitch joined [Y/n] and Effie outside the building where the chariots were kept, but he didn’t enter with them. Finally, Effie and [Y/n] saw Cinna leading Katniss and Peeta towards the chariot. Cinna’s assistant, Portia, followed behind, fussing over every strand in Katniss’ hair. The two tributes were dressed in a simple, conservative black unitard with an uncommonly high neckline. [Y/n] remembered that she had mentioned to Cinna that for her own ceremony, she’d hated how much cleavage they made her show. The unitard was accompanied by a pair of shiny leather boots laced up to their knees. [Y/n] was most surprised to see the long billowing capes and matching headpieces. The red, orange, and yellow were an impressive contrast to the black. [Y/n] heard Cinna telling them about a synthetic fire for the costume. Of course- they weren’t coal miners this year, they were the coal!

As Katniss and Peeta’s chariot took off, [Y/n] could see them whispering to each other. She couldn’t help but hope that they would do great things. As the opening music played, [Y/n] wished Haymitch would participate more. He did say he would help- but maybe he didn’t mean public appearances. [Y/n] knew she was forcibly comfortable in the public eye, but Haymitch was not quite the flavor the public eye favored. His consistent public drunkenness was not something District 12, much less the rest of Panem was happy to accept. 

Effie, Portia, and [Y/n] watched the ceremony on their own screen where they would wait to collect their tributes. Each district’s chariot crossed the screen as they listened to the commentators give their opinions on the designs. District 1: luxury items- wore fashionable, jeweled tunics and had their skin spray painted silver. A hard act to follow for the attention of the capitol- hopefully Cinna had something extraordinary up his sleeve. [Y/n] looked around wondering if she’d get a glimpse of Haymitch when suddenly she heard the gasps and cheers for District 12! Effie and Portia were beaming as [Y/n] whipped her head around and saw her tributes on fire! Cinna and Portia’s synthetic fire was just the combination of danger, beauty, and excitement that reeled in the sponsors. The ceremony music could barely be heard behind the overwhelming cheers of Katniss and Peeta’s names, the screams of appreciation, and clapping of thousands of hands.

[Y/n] jumped as a hand rested on her shoulder and the owner said, “I didn’t know she could smile,”

Haymitch could always be counted on for a sarcastic comment. Although, it was good to see Katniss helping herself and Peeta by playing to the crowd: catching a rose, blowing kisses, and proudly holding hands- Katniss was coming out of her shell. She was going to fight. 

After the ceremony, the tributes chariots were brought inside. Effie and [Y/n] rushed to meet Katniss and Peeta with the intention of beating everyone who would want to meet them. It didn’t take long for Katniss to point out that she had made several enemies already. She’d stolen sponsors from Districts 1, 2, and 3. 

Cinna and Portia helped put out the flames. Tributes weren’t usually worried about relationships, especially because there was only one winner. But [Y/n] felt like there was something between Katniss and Peeta and wondered if she should shut that down before they literally have to try killing each other. To solidify her wondering, Peeta said something that made Katniss smile and reach up to kiss his cheek. Oh no, [Y/n] couldn’t allow that- or could she? Should she let them die happy? Or risk one of them losing the other? She figured they were 16 and it wouldn’t lead to anything anyway- at least one of them would die feeling like they’d felt something for the other. 

Masterlist

Come have one of the best summer jobs EVER!!!

The chin tilt 😍

“That’s not possible, there’s only 42 hours in a day,”

Camper in Response to another camper saying “I haven’t slept in 48 hours!”

I Bring a Small Library to Camp

One of the many reasons people at camp call me “Mom” is because I love reading to my campers at bedtime or during down time when asked. I’ve been called “entertaining” by my fifth grade campers because I “do voices” and read more like I’m narrating a play and all of its parts. Part of the reason I do this is because, well, I enjoy it. They may not seem too interested in reading when you interact with them, but that’s usually because it’s during the day and there are so many other things to do. But when given the option to stay up a bit later, they will want to be read to; and many kids (and even teens) really do like listening to someone else read. For younger kids it may be something their guardians do at home; for the older ones it may remind them of the comforting reading time they had as a young child. Children who are read to on a usual basis (five or more times per week) often use more literary language when asked to speak or write.¹ While working with children, I have noticed that many kids show signs of stage fright or a feeling of discomfort when doing things as simple as introducing themselves to a group. I like to use reading to my campers as a way to show them that speaking up and being crazy when you talk is perfectly okay and even encouraged.

I find it’s often difficult to get my campers to interact (sometimes appropriately) at meal times. While being the icebreaker of the group can work, at breakfast I found my campers often spoke about the book I read the night before. That’s the last thing they remember from the previous day and it’s the first thing they’ll talk about the next morning (unless they’ve already been distracted by gaga ball). When we read to campers or children in general, they’ll unintentionally talk about the story, ask open-ended questions, question word definitions, and point out conflict and resolution. This promotes an increase in their language development and comprehension of stories– all of which lead to better reading skills.²

I usually bring a small collection of paperback books to camp with me and have a library in my cabin for down time or if they would like to read before bed. The big hits this past summer were J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone and Roald Dahl’s Matilda.

Keeping in mind that my campers are usually in the 3rd-6th grade (8-12 years old) age range, here are some books I keep in my little library:

Dolphins at Daybreak by Mary Pope Osborne

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s by J.K. Rowling

Lions at Lunchtime by Mary Pope Osborne

The Talking T. Rex by Ron Roy

Midnight on the Moon by Mary Pope Osborne

The Lucky Lottery by Ron Roy

Matilda by Roald Dahl

The Worst Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson

The Canary Caper by Ron Roy

Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White

The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo

Faith and the Electric Dogs by Patrick Jennings

The Adventures of Captain Underpants by Dav Pilkey

Fergus Crane by Paul Stewart

James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl

Now just remember, if that character yelled- you should be using above an inside voice. If that character is described as having an accent- try your hardest to have one. The more engaged you are in the book, the more engaged they will be. Read to your campers. They will love it and you will have control over bedtime.

¹Wolf, M. (2007). Proust and the Squid: The Story and Science of the Reading Brain. New York: Harper Perennial.

²Berk, L. E. (2009). Child Development (8th ed.). Pearson Education, Inc.

When you can’t find the best fanfic ever because you forgot to like it and can’t remember what it was called…