Prompt: :If you have instagram could you write a story about elizabeth banks last story? The

Last instagram story at that point was titled "when bae likes your bum in that skirt" and was basically someone who I guess to be her hubby filming her walking with a special focus on her bum XD

This takes place after the "this is how a revolution dies" scene.

Payback Is Fair

"I do not see what else you want us to do, Plutarch." Effie sighed, picking up discarded props to put them in their proper place. It wasn't her job to do that but she needed the activity.

She barely listened to supposedly inspiring speeches the Head Gamemaker thought they could write. Thirteen may have had the logistical means to film propos but they didn't have the power to magically make Katniss a better actress and the three of them could talk about it all their might, it would never get better. Katniss couldn't act, that was as simple as that.

Haymitch's ominous "that's how a revolution dies" may have been a tad overdramatic but it was also very true in her opinion.

She glanced at the unusually silent victor, surprised he hadn't yet tried to cut in, but realized he had lost all interest in Plutrach's words. He had picked up one of the tiny camera at some point and he was very busy filming…

"Haymitch!" she snapped. "That camera better not be pointing where I think it is pointing."

A smirk played on his lips. "But those jumpsuits make it look so good…"

She huffed. "I strongly doubt that. Put it down."

He did place the camera down but she figured it had more to do with his shaking hands and him being too tired for a proper fight than because he was seeing the wisdom of not filming her butt while she walked around.

"Look." he sighed, his tone suddenly more serious. "What we need is a brainstorming session, alright? We gather everyone, we take a couple of random people and we figure out what's really important about Katniss. This kind of fake propos won't cut it. You need proof? Let's just ask anyone what Katniss' shiny moments were for them."

It was a sensible option and Plutarch relented after a minute, telling them to go to Command while he gathered everyone.

Effie was purposely slow in exiting the room after the Gamemaker and she was rewarded with an arm sneaking around her waist and a scratchy kiss pressed against the side of her neck. Both arm and lips were gone in a flash but it was enough of a proper hello for her.

"I am glad to see you standing on your feet." she offered.

His withdrawals had been terrible. The only time she had consented to leave her compartment – or her prison cell as she had taken to calling it – was to visit him. And she hadn't been impressed with Thirteen's medical facilities when it came to treating addiction.

"Would rather lie down." he snorted, placing a hand at the small of her back to guide her out of the room. "Think they would let us borrow one of those cameras? I've got ideas, sweetheart…"

"None of those ideas are happening, Haymitch." she warned. But then she softened and flashed him a look over her shoulder. "Not in this District at least. I look terrible. The only way you are getting me in front of a camera is if you find me a wig and some make-up."

He shook his head at her, clearly amused.

So she was not very surprised when, during the briefing, he made an off-hand remark about liking her better without all the make-up.

She didn't think he had been ready for her to purr she liked him better sober but… Payback was fair.