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mrsreginagold · 19 days

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Fic: Every Time I Breathe I Take You In

Fandom: Nikita

Pairing: Ari Tasarov x Nikita Mears (Nikari)

Rating: R

Spoilers: Season 2 AU where Ari betrays Amanda and works with Nikita and her team. He has been with them for several months at the starting point in this story. For the purposes of this universe, Nikita and Michael have remained friends but have never been a couple.

Summary: Nikita decides to go for a midnight swim to clear her head. She isn’t expecting company, but Ari has been proving a man of surprises as of late.

Author's note: When it comes to my OTPs, fluff generally starts to become a priority. This is just one of many Nikari pieces to drift in that direction.

On AO3

Every Time I Breathe I Take You In

There were remarkably few places to be alone with one’s thoughts in an estate the size of the one Nikita Mears currently occupied with her team.

Things had been especially hectic as of late, leaving the former Division operative in a state of frazzled nerves more often than not, so she had taken to late night swims to clear her head.

While the indoor, heated pool that adjoined the property was a popular destination during the day, it was quiet and isolated past midnight. This led to it being a perfect spot for mulling over feelings and contemplations, which seemed to circulate especially around a certain individual.

For the past several months, Ari Tasarov had become an unexpected ally – betraying his organization, his ex-girlfriend, and much of what Nikita had assumed that he stood for. She knew all too well how difficult the transition could be once such a decision had been made and had not hesitated to offer him sanctuary in return.

The truth was: she’d anticipated him turning the deal down, but then he’d surprised her and everyone else by accepting and coming to live on the grounds.

This alone was an adjustment that had taken time to accept – less so on Nikita’s part and more on everyone else’s – but as it turned out, having Ari around resulted in no shortage of benefits.

For one thing, the man was an excellent cook. She’d asked him one time where he’d picked up the skill and his sole response had been a mysterious, alluring smile.

Which brought up an additional benefit, at least where she was concerned: plenty of one-on-one interaction in order to sus out what her feelings for him happened to be.

From the instant that they had met, there had been a spark of attraction between the pair. The burgeoning affection had only increased on Nikita’s end after Ari had rescued her from certain death.

There had also been that incredibly heated make-out session between them in an elevator prior to the aforementioned heroics, but at the time she’d thought that it might have been because he’d been aware of her potential fate.

Nikita sighed softly, floating lazily on her back as the moment replayed over in her mind now that it was at the forefront. She could easily imagine the solid heat of his body as it pressed against hers, his soft mouth seeking her own over and over, and those talented hands threading into her hair to keep her close.

A bloom of heat erupted right below her stomach at the memory. That was another thing she hadn’t expected him to be quite so good at.

With a frustrated sound, she sank under the chlorinated water, holding her breath for as long as she was able and attempting to empty her head of the sensual picture.

She broke the surface once she needed air, slicking her hair back from her face and carefully opening her eyes when she had swept the remaining drops of moisture away so it wouldn’t sting.

Her vision went blurry momentarily before clearing, and her heart skipped several beats when she witnessed the man she had just been thinking of enter the room.

“I thought I might find you in here,” Ari’s deep, resonant voice belied amusement. He was dressed in a thin, pale blue button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up and collar unbuttoned just enough to reveal a triangle of the toned chest that lay beneath. This was paired with black pants that were also rolled up along his calves. His feet were bare, and he carried a pair of large, fluffy towels, so he had clearly anticipated what she would be doing.

“Who tipped you off?” she swam to the edge of the pool and rested her arms on the mosaiced tile that framed it. “Was it the nerd?”

He snickered quietly at her nickname for Birkoff. “Actually, it was Alex.”

“Really?” Both of her eyebrows shot up. “I thought it would at least be another month before she began speaking to you.”

He set the towels down on a chaise nearby and then picked a dry spot close to her where he sat and dangled his feet in the water. “It wouldn’t have surprised me if it had taken a year. I can’t say I blame her either, after…” a disappointed frown marred his angular, handsome features. “Well. After.”

Instinctively, she slid closer. “You can’t dwell, Ari. You have to look forward.”

The corners of his mouth turned up briefly. “That’s easier said than done.”

“Trust me,” she reached up and grasped his wrist, her grip firm but not unkind. “I know.”

Eyes of brilliant, cobalt blue caught hers, the sincerity in them making her pulse thrum. “It helps having you around, Nikita. You’re the one person here who doesn’t judge me outright.”

She swallowed, pleasant butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. “Just give them time.”

“I am.” His hand crossed over her own, squeezing in reassurance. “Besides, what they think isn’t what matters.” His gaze never left hers, the hidden meaning in his tone becoming clearer by the second.

A substantial part of her wished to kiss him, so she could recall exactly what it was about his taste and touch that drove her so wild. The more logical side didn’t want to startle him by being too aggressive.

“Could you…move over a bit?” she inquired.

He arched a brow curiously but did as she requested.

She swam over to the ladder that was closest so she could exit the pool, aware of him watching her as she grabbed a towel and then rubbed down some of the moisture from her one-piece bathing suit.

After drying off slightly, she moved to sit beside him and dunk her feet back into the water. “There’s something that I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, but it’s taken me a while to come to terms with it.”

Ari exhaled, though his face betrayed little emotion. “It’s all right. I think I know what you’re going to say.”

“And what’s that?”

He kicked up a tiny splash. “You don’t feel the same way that I do.”

She paused, thinking over how best to communicate to him that he was completely wrong about that.

She settled on tenderly placing one hand on his cheek and turning his face towards hers.

“Ari, ever since that night and that moment we shared in the elevator – it made me realize just how much of my life isn’t real. It’s all theater and play pretend. But you? You’re real. What you make me feel is real. And I can’t risk losing that.”

He reached out then, framing her face between his hands and whispering with conviction: “You won’t lose me, Nikita. But I won’t be some sort of consolation prize. I know that’s what Amanda really wanted: not my love, but my influence.”

“That isn’t what I want. I want you. I want you so badly that it terrifies me.”

Whether it was his doing or hers, it was hard to say, but in the next second she was in his arms.

The ardent kiss that was shared threw them off balance enough to tumble into the pool.

She grasped at his collar while underwater, breaking from the embrace and kicking to propel them back to the surface.

They emerged, sputtering and coughing.

“That probably wasn’t the smartest idea,” Ari gasped.

“Probably not,” she managed, laughing quietly, only for it to die once she got a better look at her companion.

There had been an unintentional perk to their impetuousness in that his shirt was now soaked through and clinging to his slim yet well-built torso.

She allowed herself to stare at her leisure, and thanks to how transparent the fabric was, there was little left to the imagination.

Her eyes traveled slowly along the breadth of his shoulders and then headed down, appreciating a broad chest and tapered waist.

As he ran his fingers through his now damp hair, she got a clear view of a toned bicep, and when he finally met her eyes again, the look that crossed his face was adorably befuddled. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not allowed to stare at a handsome man?”

“You find me handsome?” he quipped, crossing what little distance was left between them and snaking his arms around her waist beneath the water.

“Ari, I just told you that I wanted you so badly that it terrified me,” she rolled her eyes but circled her arms around his neck. “I figured it was a given.”

“Desire can work in mysterious ways,” he touched their foreheads together. “And admittedly, I’m out of practice when it comes to being the one who’s being lusted after.”

“Let’s go about fixing that,” she mumbled, brushing her lips tenderly over his and reaching for the buttons on his shirt. “Starting with getting you out of these wet clothes.”

His hands moved up to still hers before they got too far. “Wait.”

“Don’t tell me you’re ticklish.”

“A little, but that’s not why I stopped you,” he confessed. “I want this to be special, not some wild fumble in a swimming pool.”

“It wouldn’t be a wild fumble –

He cut her off before she could protest further by placing his fingers gently over her mouth. “Yes it would. I can do much better than that. Follow me,” he twined their hands together and escorted her out of the pool.

Nikita’s curiosity grew as Ari guided her through the labyrinthian maze of tunnels that ran under the house. They had stopped only for a moment to gather some blankets, and while she wasn’t minding the lovely view that she had of his elegant frame in still drenched clothing, she had to wonder just what he had planned.

“You’re not cold?” she queried, noting that visibly: he was unaffected by the chill in the air.

She, however, had cocooned herself in one of the blankets to keep from shivering.

“No, but then I do hail from a country known for harsh winters,” he cast a glance back at her. “Don’t worry. It’s not much further.”

“Ari, I didn’t even know these tunnels were here.”

“I’m not surprised, they’re well-hidden for a reason. Judging by the architecture and our location, it’s likely that they were built back during the American Revolution.”

Her brows arched at the guess. “When did you become an expert on both American History and architecture?”

“I needed a hobby,” he shrugged.

She gave him a look.

He drew to a halt and elaborated. “I’ve been looking into building an underground safe house for a while. The research led me into some unexpected areas.”

“You were looking into building a safe house? Even though you’ve been staying with us?”

Ari turned; his expression was serious, making her breath catch. “I sensed that I may no longer be welcome before too long.”

She sprang forward, shaking her head. “No. No, I’m sure the others will –

“Let’s not kid ourselves, Nikita. I’m an outsider and I always will be. If all that’s gained from this is a chance to rebuild my life and a night with you, so be it.”

“No.” She stamped her foot, which probably didn’t look too imposing in a flip-flop, but she didn’t care. “Ari your home is here…with me.”

“I want that more than anything,” he stepped forward, taking the chance to run his fingers through the damp strands of her hair. “I love you. But it doesn’t change the fa –

She interrupted him with a fervent kiss, looping her arms around his neck and pouring every ounce of emotion into the embrace, hoping it would get her point across better than words could.

He kissed her back just as ardently, which told her that the message was received loud and clear.

He pulled away first, nuzzling at her nose. “You stopped listening after I said that I loved you, didn’t you?”

“Completely. Now can we please get to wherever we’re going? Because I’m ten seconds away from tearing your clothes off and having you against a wall.”

“As fun as that sounds,” he abruptly scooped her up and began carrying her the rest of the way, smirking when she let out a squeak in surprise. “You’re going to have to wait just a little longer. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“Better be,” she murmured, snuggling close.

Eventually, they came upon a door, and Ari instructed Nikita to close her eyes for the short remainder of their journey.

Though she was practically buzzing with anticipation, she humored him by doing so.

She felt him set her down on a plush surface, and then heard him rummaging around before she flinched when the area was flooded with enough bright light to make spots appear against her eyelids. “Okay…what’s going on?”

“You can open your eyes now.”

Carefully, she did, only for them to widen once she could see clearly.

They were in an atrium, surrounded by glass walls that shimmered when the overhead lamps reflected upon them. She was seated on a comfortable bed, and there was a wild array of plants and flowers stretching out across the ground. She could pick out roses, jasmine, and several types of wildflowers, along with plenty of herbs, vegetables, and fruit. “Ari, what is this?”

“It’s home. Well, it will be, once I convert the rest of it,” he walked over to her side, a wide, beaming smile gracing his striking features. “I’ll have to take out most of the glass on the west side for privacy, but I planted all of this first.”

“So you just found this place?” she looked at him quizzically.

“Actually, I bought it.” He confirmed, reaching out one hand so she could stand at his side, observing his handiwork.

“You were serious about putting down roots then; I guess I just didn’t expect that to be literal. I also didn’t peg you for having such a green thumb.”

“It’s something I indulged in where I could over the years,” he moved behind her and circled his arms around her waist.

Sighing, she leaned back. “It’s beautiful in here. How far are we from headquarters?”

His breath ruffled her hair. “About thirty minutes. I never intended to stray too far.”

“Good.” She twisted to face him, pressing her palms over his heart. “It can be our private get-away.”

He dipped his head, his lips grazing hers tantalizingly. “I’m hoping, someday, that it can be more than that. Home wouldn’t be complete without you by my side.”

Her heart cartwheeled happily at his words, and she nudged his nose playfully with her own. “That sounds absolutely wonderful, but first, I need a promise from you.”

“What kind of promise?”

“Let me prove to you how much I love you,” she toyed with the top button on his shirt before popping it open. “No more hesitation.”

He chuckled from low in his throat, pulling her in further and slipping the blanket still around her shoulders onto the bed behind them. “No more hesitation…no more doubts. I promise.”

Elated, she caught his mouth in a passion-infused kiss, effectively shifting the mood towards more pleasant pursuits.

Now that there was nothing further to distract either of them, they took their time.

Skilled hands eased Nikita out of her swim wear, while she focused on getting Ari out of his mostly dry clothing, smiling when he tugged his arms free of the shirt and she could take a moment to appreciate the alluring picture in front of her before continuing until it was skin against skin.

Her breath hitched when he stepped closer, her fingers skimming over the sculpted muscle of his arms and chest as he stole another kiss and guided her onto the bed.

He settled comfortably against her, causing her to moan quietly and revel in the velvet texture of his skin. She then hooked one leg around his and turned the tides so he would be the one under her instead.

She smirked at the stunned expression on her lover’s face when she straddled his hips and dragged her nails through the hair that dusted his chest. “Now, stay still.”

“Easier said than done,” he hissed as she ducked her head and purposely nipped at his throat, her tongue laving at his Adam’s Apple briefly before drifting lower.

Her hands moved up to pin his against the blankets while she continued in her quest. She recalled his earlier comment about not being used to the one being the object of desire, and she was determined to worship every inch of him until her point was made.

With each kiss and touch, she could sense his resolve crumbling and made mental notes of where he happened to be the most sensitive.

It was when he uttered several curses in his native tongue that she was certain she had him exactly where she wanted him, and not long after: she succeeded in her task of driving him over the edge.

With a satisfied grin, Nikita crawled back up the length of his body, darting firefly kisses along the path she made.

His chest heaved with each breath that he took, painting a very sensual image that she pocketed away in her mind before she rested her head on the pillow next to his and slung an arm over his torso.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she inquired, sweeping an errant strand of tousled hair away from his eyes. He had been growing it out recently, and she rather liked the way it accentuated his face.

“I think you might have chased any coherent ones away,” he looked over at her, an ocean of blue glittering with amusement. “Typically, there’s a bit of patience where seduction is concerned.”

“Patience was never one of my virtues.”

“Clearly.” His already deep tone was laced with enough gravel to prompt a pleased shiver to run along her spine.

Instinctually, she curled into his embrace. “I feel like there’s going to be some subtle payback.”

“Nothing will be subtle about it, darling,” he shook his head, mischief glinting in his gaze right before he swiftly trapped her between his body and the mattress. “Or quick, for that matter.”

“Oh really? I bet I can take anything you dish out,” she challenged.

“We’ll have to see about that,” he arced one brow in response, and then his mouth descended on hers.

They reclined further into the nest of blankets, Nikita gasping when Ari’s lips strayed to travel, feather-light, along her neck.

She was quickly consumed by sensation, heat blossoming at her center while he gradually explored, leaving no area of her body uncharted in an effort to prove good on his earlier words.

She inhaled shakily as he did so, unexpected feelings surfacing at his actions. Previous experiences had always been on the brief side, with a fair amount of clothing left on. She had made it a point not to expose herself entirely in order to shield her heart from disappointment, and yet, with him, she was willing to risk it all because of how strongly she cared.

A startled sound escaped when he paid special attention to her breasts, her hands moving up to card through his hair and keep him steady. At the same time, a practiced hand stroked up the curve of her hip before finally darting between her legs.

Eventually, she let go as he reduced her to a trembling mess, collapsing back against the pillows, sated.

It took her a bit to regain enough composure to open her eyes, only to find him staring at her with a self-satisfied expression that she immediately wished to wipe from his face.

“To be fair: you were the one who started this,” his shoulders shook with mirth thanks to the look she directed at him.

She lunged forward with a growl, sending him toppling back onto the mattress, cutting off the genuine laughter that emerged with a wild embrace that gradually turned romantic the longer that it went on.

He turned to bear her beneath him again, limbs entwining naturally as they became fully lost in each other.

She locked her legs around his waist, arching her hips in an invitation that he willingly took – joining them with a quick thrust before they began to move in time.

They rapidly gained symmetry, unable to stop kissing or touching in some way as their union wore on, until, at last: they fell, one in every aspect.

By the arrival of morning, Nikita has lost track of just how times she and Ari had made love. All she knew was that she was going to be pleasantly numb for a good few hours still, and pondered how he even had the energy to get up and make them breakfast.

She sunk, happily, into the soft covers of their bed and watched him wander around in the small kitchen nearby. He had a blanket wrapped around his waist instead of bothering with clothes, which allowed her plenty of his lean, perfectly muscled frame to ogle over while she waited.

He seemed well-aware of her admiration and looked back over his shoulder. “I am not working with an open flame while completely naked, sorry to disappoint you.”

“You didn’t have to make pancakes.”

“I know, but I seem to recall you describing these as orgasmic so I thought I’d put my skill to the test in a different way.”

Giggling, she sat up, gathering the bedsheets around her in a make-shift dress so she could rise and assist him. “You have any blueberries around here?”

“I knew I was forgetting something,” he shut down the stove temporarily and walked over to take her hand, escorting her over to a row of various berry plants. “We also have strawberries.”

“I’ll take a bit of each.” She knelt down and began collecting one kind, while he went to grab the other.

With handfuls of fruit, they made their way back to the kitchen and fell into a routine of cooking, talking quietly and basking in one another’s company.

A short time later found them back on the bed with a tray of food that they could share.

Nikita chewed on a slice of strawberry with a smile, observing Ari while he topped the pancakes with some butter and syrup. “Careful, we don’t want to make more of a mess than we already have.”

He laughed softly and began cutting into the breakfast. “It will probably drip onto us rather than the bedding, but that just gives me an excuse to take a long hot shower with you later.” He leaned across to kiss her sweetly and then offered her the first bite. “I’ll let you be the judge of how well these turned out.”

Her grin spread before she enthusiastically dug in.

He watched her fondly, resting his chin against his hand. “How are they?”

“Fantastic,” she mumbled, mouth still full. She took a sip of the tea he’d made for her to wash the remnants down. “The blueberries were the right call.”

His way of thanks was a gentle kiss to her shoulder before he began to eat as well.

It was silent as they finished their meal, and Nikita took the opportunity to fully appreciate how handsome Ari could be even during the simplest of moments.

Love bubbled up within her, and when he briefly left in order to put their dishes away, she stretched out lazily along the covers. “I think I might just take a well-earned nap. You’re welcome to join me.”

“Sounds perfect,” he didn’t waste a second in taking her up on the invite, and the next few minutes were spent getting comfortable under the blankets again.

She cuddled close, pillowing her head on his chest and basking in his natural warmth. “You know…with a bit of paint and a feminine touch, this truly could be ours.”

“Ours, I like that,” his fingers danced over the slope of her shoulder. “Are you certain?”

“I am,” she peered up at him. “Let’s make this a home.”

The kiss he bestowed was evidence that he approved of her plan, and they settled in for a long rest, content and very much looking forward to their future.

The End

#ari x nikita #nikari #mine #mrsreginagold #peter outerbridge #ari tasarov #nikita mears #otp: enemy mine #nikita 2010 #fanfiction #i love writing these two so much #especially when i can just push canon aside and let my romantic tendencies take hold #every otp should have a private atrium/greenhouse is what i'm saying #otp: this is the life we've chosen

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gaoau · 4 months

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betelgeuse

I Love You(r Words) warnings — none. word count — 702

prev. — next.

Forty minutes in an empty train, mumbling nonsense instead of words, are worth it when the universe extends over their heads in the quiet of the night. They rest against the trunk of a tree as it stands tall and proud, stable in the instability of reality. Its branches, like sturdy feathers or elongated nails, stretch into the falling sky, reaching for stars the color of soft fires and hard-working bees twinkling across the landscape. The cooling breeze is velvet as it swims in-between the foliage.

Komori doesn't know about constellations, but [Name] holds facts she caught in whispers. The shapes in the sky offered a piece of knowledge on hours she spent awake. She presses her shoulder against his, tracing imaginary connections among the beams of light dotting the scenery and his eyes at the same time. "That's Orion's belt, made up of the Three Sisters. And if you go down, that red star there is his injured shoulder. I don't know its name, but it's my favorite star, considered a runaway star, isolated from the rest."

"Runaway like us?" Komori slips his hand into hers, bringing it down to his lap before she merges with the nebulas and joins Orion in his perpetual fight against the charging bull. She's always chased hares with her loyal hunting dog by her side.

"We'll be back home tomorrow." Her eyes stick to the flaming red hue of the constellation's flowing blood.

"But nobody knows where we are now."

"You told Sakusa, though, didn't you?"

"He's not here, is he?"

"There's nobody here."

Komori shifts his sights from Orion's brave swinging sword to [Name]'s sparkling gaze. She doesn't quite hold supernovas or gemstones in her irises; there's a dimming light akin to the dead stars becoming extinct in the span of a few decades. The waxing moon drapes a glow over her features like a veil, but it doesn't fit her. She's right; there's nobody there.

"Why is Orion upside-down?"

[Name] turns to meet the sky staring back at her. "He isn't. We are. Mirrors like to trick our eyes, but they can't lie."

"Why's that?"

"Don't mirrors speak to you?"

"Should they?" Silence pushes through after his question as [Name] looks away from him with a grin tugging at her lips. She hears the melodies from the Milky Way play in her mind. The chill of her hand disappears from his grasp and the weight of her burdens nuzzles onto his lap. "What do they tell you?" Komori inquires, threading his fingers through tangled strands of hair.

"That sorrows make people cruel."

"Have your sorrows made you cruel?"

"You tell me."

"Your life is weak, [Name], don't listen to what others tell you."

A chuckle escapes her. Words meaningless, tangled up, started and ended, jumped over, avoided, searched for. Conversations they share and sentences they fling back and forth between one another. She finds his eyes admiring the sight of her relaxation sprawled across his legs. A blue so deep yet so shallow, arms open for her to drown in when comfort is needed, they're entrancing, "and I could never speak a line as bright."

"As bright as what?" Komori hums. She only shares a small percentage of her thoughts unless she's requested to shower the world with her words.

"As the potential you carry to become a friend."

"Aren't I already? I'm very friendly."

"So is a badger."

It's his turn to laugh out loud. His neck cranes to the side and his fist hovers over his mouth. "Ah, fuck, you got me there."

"You're the best I got, Motoya."

"And you're the worst I got."

"You're my favorite boy."

"You say that every time."

"Because it's true. You're my favorite boy."

"You're my favorite girl."

"What's my name?"

"Don't ask me that."

"What should I ask you?"

"Clowns."

"Clowns?"

"Include clowns."

"You're always with me."

"What's your name, [Name]?"

"Don't ask that. Instead, say let's go steady."

"Let's go steady."

#I Love You(r Words)#Haikyuu #Komori Motoya #Komori Motoya x Reader #Komori x Reader #Haikyuu x Reader

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basedkikuenjoyer · 1 year

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I Have Never Been More Proud of this Boy

If nothing else, we’ll always have this shining, glorious moment. Luffy shortcuts the bickering by simply taunting Lucci. He knows it’ll work. Bare minimum he learned this in Act 1. Hitetsu grills him for being tactless, Kiku gets things rolling in Bakura in a way that makes a nice lesson, Luffy loves it and thinks she’s cool as hell, he’s already applying it by Udon. Love it, the doe-eyed samurai left her mark. Act 1 is when Luffy gets to have a fun adventure, it makes sense it’d be what sticks with him. That’s kinda been one of my basic points. The extent remains to be seen, but this is far from the only example.

Big picture, I’ve been thinking a lot about the Ox Bell lately. The big gesture, the coded message. Hell, Zoro being the one who struggled. Feels like it was Rayleigh’s idea, right? Very uncharacteristic for Luffy. Either way, it is an example in the story of this concept we’ve applied to Wano. Making a big ruckus, a huge spectacle of a story...that was ultimately insignificant and just a vehicle to slip out a coded message to the people who’d get it. Pairs nicely with an arc built around a massive historical epic in the making where the real point lied in the subtle undercurrent beneath the spectacle. That’s not the only reason that part of the story has been on my mind though.

The timing, the time frame. That’s interesting. Two months or so at this point would coincide with both the reunion at Sabaody and when the samurai who leapt forward arrived. Kiku’d been in Okobore around a month, Wano was about a month, it’d probably fall around when the Strawhats were inbound. Just...don’t forget all that stuff about the Tamataebako and time being a big theme even just here on Egghead. The idea this wasn’t Vegapunk and it’s been going on under his nose for a while is very intriguing. He’s the type of guy who could pull off a big brain gambit so I wouldn’t be shocked to find out he’s still pulling the strings, but this makes the conspiracy truly wild. Being active for two months limits our potential culprits though.

Then of course the cutaway to Shanks. One thing I’m starting to feel for sure, there’s a difference between cutting to one or two side stories and showing every major ally tied up in their own clashes. It feels like the point is...no one is coming to bail you out this time. Excellent use of the Sabaody parallels. You’re an Emperor now, sink or swim.

Now we get to 1077. First off, the title. Don’t like to dwell too heavily on this type of thing but it feels relevant here. A lot of Wano’s feel like they could be a double entendre. Referring to something explicitly there but also one of the subtler threads. Yes, Kiku often ends up being one of the subtler threads that gets these more than most. So here we have “You should have figured that out sooner.” Applies to Zoro directly and hey, it’s a scene that tracks well with his Wano story. Put the pieces together man, you should have figured out you had ancestral ties waaaay sooner than the fight with King even if you didn’t really care not to mention you should know not to pry too deeply into nice ladies’ secrets.

That’s just one of four callbacks though. Each one the exact type of thread we talked about well before Egghead, some we’ve seen elsewhere in the arc. Franky & Usopp fall victim to S-Snake’s charms, a trick Bonney pulled on Vegapunk. Sanji’s going reverse-swirl demon mode. Nami’s struggling with hurting an image of a friend. Sentomaru sets up that something baaaad is about to go down, then we see everyone tied up in that cycle of these core themes. Leading to our finale...

Not Shaka! I...actually kinda assumed he was the traitor y’know? Idea of the pure “good” falling into thinking treachery for the greater good was justified. But here he is getting capped right in front of himself. What a wild turn. Presumably whoever it was followed him down, and it’s very interesting that we see a normal gun barrel instead of something sciencey. Remember, whoever’s been doing this has been at it for two months. Whoever it’s been has seemed pretty adept at utilizing the Seraphim and cool tech too, so a regular gun feels weird. It’s also strange they’d just bump off Shaka and leave.

Because I’m still on my bullshit though...what if it is Shaka who’s been pulling this? World’s smartest man can probably act a little, especially with their face hidden. So then what we’d be seeing isn’t the reveal of the traitor...but the savior. The logistics would really make it hard to be Kiku or any potential unknown-to-us new member...but I can’t say it’s implausible to introduce your quartermaster by having her instantly short circuit a mystery because we need to GTFO. Always been 50/50 on a third sword or a pistolero, and keep in mind the structure of showing the climax first before walking back to fill in gaps means logistics aren’t the biggest hurdle. Especially with the potential appeal of this being Oden/Toki’s island. It’d look like Robin on Jaya, she just casually knocked out the research while Luffy, Zoro, & Nami failed into a significant side story that was ultimately a distraction. Feel like doing the twist through the Grand Fleet sounds more doable though, either way at this point it’s mostly just fun it isn’t that hard to make it work.

Still, if this is the actual tipping point it feels better for someone else. And it could very well just be simply the real traitor adding to their body count. Honestly sounds more likely. Feel like the next pair are going to start offering more clarity, but as always this is a hard series to predict. The story is slapping you with a full round of the core themes in a chapter titled “You should have realized it sooner,” that undertone Kiku propped up is just a blatant part of Egghead and we’re well past that point.

#one piece #chapter 1076 #chapter 1077 #post-wano musings

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mantrabay · 2 years

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The Greatest Performance Of My Life 44

(Dedicated to my sister Jay )

The greatest performance of my life.

Howard’s proud piece de resistance award on Poetry Nook for my magnum opus “Rush Amid The Rapids” in their daily member section.

After endless hours of toil, tribulation, energy sapping endeavour and quite a few rejection slips of the email inbox type.

One invests as I did so much effort, enterprise, entreaty to fruitless no avail initially,

despite patient guidance and sagacious tutorship from wondrous sister, Jay Pallen, who helped me navigate the perilous ocean,

we must sometimes swim without a life jacket in the area of imaginative thought.

From work in progress to sophisticated stylish sweep drawn to a quelle surprise denouement,

Sister Jay was my ship’s captain.

But first things first.

The plot entailed a multi-layer

mystical entanglement about suspect demarcations between an urban dweller’s pressure cooker lifestyle and that green leaf tranquil environment found in nature.

An accountant, Landon, who was torn between two stools,

desperately seeking something deeper but wasn’t really sure if such depth actually exists.

Of course the other aspect of this mind-boggling jigsaw was an audacious couple who ran this Eco publishing company in an idyllic otherworld hub.

They parted ways after a very early cordial relationship but still kept in touch.

A dark secret was being kept which Landon could only guess at.

The subject of life in all its forms was the one common thread between this mysterious pair and said deep life meaning accountant.

There were many reasons why this Landon decided to spring a sudden visit.

A crucial overall element if the truth be told.

Gaps between visits can have so many strange effects.

But why were they (the couple) so furtive?

An intangible cone of silence that worsens with time.

Jay, suggested that I paint an elaborate tour-de-force natural world canvass to add intrigue and spectrum colour.

Nettles, rainbow trout arches,

clubmoss plants and other ornate structures.

Against labyrinthine ancient rock form, overbearing mountain peak, the bizarre appearance then vanishment of an elk as the watchtower mountain gazed on what would soon hatch a peculiar cataclysmic curtain closer.

Jay’s astute analytical asides left me thunderstruck at every single turn.

Over copious cream coffees and velvet vegan bars, tasty tea and pistachio protein pecks I listened avidly to her:

“Don’t lose your core narrative or momentum.

Make sure there are abrupt surprise scene shifts and never waste an opportunity to add portrait plenty pigment.”

An extract from my creation which Jay Pallen always emphasises would be this one :

“The couple, Chesney(Husband) and Chelsea(Wife) resided in a cherry wood log cabin with tongue-and-groove cladding and a pine timber roof lantern peering pensively into the maze-like river down below.

This dwelling was perched at the side of a mountain.”

A woman of immense giftedness, Jay, forensically screens each phrase, for potential catharsis and climax building.

A gradual sense of ecstasy descends as Jay, angel and mentor, to my most ambitious project yet wisely observes : “Jump start your target audience.

They mustn’t doze off.”

My sister again : “What may seem fascinating to you might just as easily be incorrigibly boring to others.”

By way of example another passage from this tome :

“A circus of the wilds continued to intensify outside as species vied with species in a fanfare of egos.

Chirping Robin Red Breasts at the window,

crickets in high chorus as they scrape their wings behind a Vulcan steam curtain.

Horseshoe Bats that bob and weave around rainbow shafts.

Such delights as Daddy Long Legs with their Cancan dances on sodden green patches.”

A blissful whisper emanates from Jay : “Keep littering your storyline with little hints and clues. This life obsessed couple are in denial.”

Chelsea had a quaint baby twang, Chesney a roguish infant zeal.

They seemed to have one intense obsession with children’s toys.

“Landon did notice kids gadgets dangling over cube modular storage units.

Pink Salmon quilted eiderdowns, pillows with children sleeping under moonlit skies, and Milky Way throw blankets completing this dreamland scene.”

Sustaining short attention spans can be an obstacle as Jay indeed took every opportunity to point out.

The life energy, lifespan and this secret!

Tease, taunt and trick the target readership, Jay Pallen, with that magic ripple charm laugh, our family Einstein and guru.

Especially when absorbing the description below as torrid tumult to furious finale.

“Landon limped outside to an

ear-splitting din and a mist-laden detritus that merged into pockets of streams steeplechasing each other.

A slimy frog vaults and casts a damp viscous oil spray in his direction into the bargain.”

Why did Chesney and Chelsea treat Landon like a child?

Why were this couple imitating mannerisms one associates with children?

We’re there other revelations in store?

Landon discovered in a letter near the edge of some nascent river that Chelsea was barren, incapable of having children according to their doctor and they didn’t want to face such dilemmas when managing their life publishing company.

Chesney and Chelsea offered Landon a position as accountant and editor.

Was Landon being used as a family substitute?

Landon himself receives a text from his company that his post was in danger.

So the job offer might seem like someone’s hidden hand.

A curious convergence had now arrived.

All three characters jump with glee into a turbulent cascade singing their hearts out as that sky tower mountain watches imperiously and the elk reappears.

Maybe that elk knew something after all!

Rush Amid The Rapids was published on Poetry Nook 16th February 2020

How Jay and I rejoiced due to her pivotal role in the greatest performance of my life!

Photograph and piece all my own work @mantrabay

I appreciate in advance everyone on Tumbrl who considers and rates this post

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stygicniron · 2 years

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PlotS please?

Ask Meme: Plots Here! Get Your Plots! – @tragedyprophesied

I am going to just run down the muse list and write what comes to mind because I want to write with everyone okay let’s go

- LETHE we need to do some threads with Lethe. The angsty potential there is absolutely off the charts. I feel like Nico on some level blames her for forgetting everything, but then again he knows she didn’t of her own will but was following orders so it’s complicated and angsty

- I feel like Nico and Hecate could bond over chthonic stuff. And in canon, Hecate trains Nico’s sister Hazel in magic so there’s that possible connection too

- oof oof, all the threads with Persephone-- familial threads? Learning how to be a family? I love all the ranges and spectrums of the possible interactions between these two. I have a god verse too were Nico is the true son of Hades and Persephone, so that’s just wholesome

- several thoughts are knocking around my head about the various water muses because Nico 1) gets motion sickness on water and 2) cannot swim, so that’s some fun tension to explore

- also Melinoe!! in canon, nico has met melinoe and she briefly took on the appearance of nico’s dead mother, so we could explore that or we could yeet canon and have more fun chthonic times too

#tragedyprophesied #☠ ▌ ｐｕｌｌｉｎｇｔｈｅｓｔｒｉｎｇｓ ( ooc. )#☠ ▌ ｆｉｖｅｔｈｏｕｓａｎｄａｔｔａｃｋｐｏｉｎｔｓ ( ask meme reply. )

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talesofourworlds · 1 month

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🌟 || How about a round for Chloe? C:

🌟 Drop one of my characters’ names in my inbox and I’ll tell you 10 facts about them 🌟

I've talked about this one before, but the reason Chloe addresses men by their last names is a sort of respect thing. She knows she's in a position where she's not likely to gain a lot of respect from other people in her field, particularly knights, so even though she knows she'll be looked down on she still tries to maintain that level of respect to some degree. The only exception she tends to make is if she doesn't know their last name, for example Jay having no last name. She also tends to alternate between addressing Senel by his name and by his last name. This could be due to how close she feels to him, though.

When Chloe learned she was an iron eren, there wasn't a lot that was done about it. Her parents felt like she wouldn't need to make use of her skills in that field, since they planned on having her take over as head of the house when they passed, so focused instead on noble lessons. She agreed with them at the time, but understandably chose to take up the sword after everything she knew was flipped on its head.

After the events of the game, Chloe does eventually get an actual house to stay in back in Werites Beacon instead of staying in the hospital's spare room. She also makes fewer and fewer trips to the mainland, having less and less reason to set foot in Gadoria as she moves on from her past. Now and then she'll still return to her homeland, mostly to visit her parents' graves, but the Legacy is her home. She's content enough with that.

Even after the events of her character quest, Chloe still harbors feelings for Senel. She isn't sure if he feels the same way about her, but she can't deny she still has a crush on him.

She also still harbors guilt over what happened between her and Senel in the graveyard during her character quest. She knows Senel doesn't hold it against her, but the guilt of hurting him still lingers at the back of her mind. She's trying to forgive herself, though, considering at the time she was fueled by a lot of feelings related to her past. Besides, if Senel forgives her and is still willing to trust her then she should be able to try and forgive herself. Right?

Chloe does want to eventually learn how to swim. It's still something she considers one of her biggest weaknesses, and it's something she wants to overcome so she can just grow in general. She has considered the idea of asking Senel for lessons, but hasn't gone through with asking yet. (I think there's a Legendia audio drama or something that makes this canon but I haven't found it so maybe something for a future thread we'll see)

Honestly, Chloe does prefer her hair short. Her decision to cut her hair before training to try and become a knight was partly made out of a desire to change. It also was partly a tactical decision, to prevent herself from potentially having her hair be something opponents could take advantage of. She grew used to having her hair short, though, and so keeps it that way. These days, she can't imagine herself with long hair in general.

Had things actually worked out and she'd been able to take over the Valens household without the trauma, she could have made a good head of the house. She was practically raised of it. Because of the circumstances of everything, though... yeah, a twelve year old was never meant to take over a noble household all by herself.

She still somewhat resents the nobility of Gadoria for not stepping in to try and help her when she needed it the most. It's a part of her reason for eventually deciding to go to her homeland less and less. They turned their backs on her and mocked her when she was at her lowest point. Though she wouldn't say she wishes any ill will upon them, she can't ever look at the nobility back home the same way she did when she was a child. Part of her is glad she isn't a part of that world anymore.

Sword Rain: Alpha is Chloe's favorite arte. It just gets the job done and feels satisfying to use.

#ooc #Seeking Victory (Chloe)#From the Earthen Historia (headcanon)#Bless you for asking about one of the Legendia characters

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gardnerwilcox09 · 2 months

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#indigenous marketplace #buy products from australia #Australian First Nation Marketplace #sell your product #price australia

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altogetherwellness · 4 months

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Starting the Year Right: Setting Holistic Health Goals

As we stand on the threshold of a new year, full of potential and promise, I invite you on a journey of transformation and healing. I am Shelia Heard, a dedicated mother, a seasoned holistic health practitioner, and your guide in this expedition towards a fuller, more balanced life. This journey is especially poignant for those among us managing chronic illnesses, as it offers a fresh opportunity to redefine our health narratives. Whether you're navigating the complexities of chronic illness or striving to improve your overall well-being, this article is your beacon of hope and wisdom. Let's explore together how we can set holistic health goals that encompass our entire being – physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual – and embark on a path towards enhanced well-being.

The Essence of Holistic Health

Holistic health is not just a concept; it's a lived experience that views our well-being as an intricate tapestry of interconnected threads. It's a recognition that our physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health are not isolated areas but deeply intertwined aspects that collectively define our quality of life. For those grappling with chronic illnesses, this integrative approach is not merely beneficial; it's crucial. It shifts our focus from mere symptom management to a more profound understanding of health as a harmonious balance within our lives.

A Quote to Inspire

In the words of the renowned wellness advocate, Deepak Chopra, "Every cell in your body is eavesdropping on your thoughts." This profound statement underscores the powerful connection between our mind and body, reminding us that our thoughts and attitudes play a crucial role in our overall health and well-being. As we set our goals for the year, let's keep in mind that our mental and emotional states are just as influential as our physical habits.

Feel free to listen: https://bit.ly/journeytoperfecthealth

My Story: Embracing Holistic Health

My own journey into holistic health was born from a deep-seated need to find better, more comprehensive solutions for my children's unique health challenges. Faced with the limitations and often one-dimensional approach of conventional healthcare, I embarked on a path that led me to functional nutrition, breathwork, hypnosis with NLP, and life coaching. This journey was not just a professional evolution but a personal revelation, highlighting the transformative power of an integrative approach to health. It's a story about turning adversity into strength, not just for my family, but for everyone I encounter in my practice.

Crafting Holistic Health Goals

Setting holistic health goals, particularly in the context of chronic illness, demands a compassionate, personalized approach. It's about creating objectives that are not only achievable but also nurturing and healing. These goals should be custom-tailored to your unique life circumstances, considering your physical abilities, emotional needs, and spiritual aspirations. Whether it's adopting a more nutrient-rich diet, engaging in gentle physical activities, or carving out time for mental and emotional self-care, each goal is a step towards a more balanced and fulfilling life.

Physical Health Amidst Chronic Illness

Navigating physical health when dealing with a chronic condition can be a delicate balance. It's a journey that goes beyond the conventional focus on exercise and diet; it's about deeply understanding how different activities and foods interact with your unique body. Finding what works for you may involve experimenting with various forms of gentle exercises like yoga, Pilates, or therapeutic swimming. It's about listening to your body and responding to its needs with kindness and patience. Similarly, nutrition plays a pivotal role in managing chronic conditions. A diet that is tailored to your specific health requirements can have a profound impact on your day-to-day well-being.

Mental and Emotional Well-being

The mental and emotional dimensions of living with chronic illness are often as significant as the physical aspects. Managing these conditions can be mentally and emotionally draining, requiring strategies to cope with stress, anxiety, and the rollercoaster of emotions that often accompany long-term health issues. This might involve professional counseling, engaging in mindfulness practices, or finding supportive communities where you can share your experiences and draw strength from others. It's about creating a safe space for yourself where your feelings are acknowledged and addressed with care and understanding.

Spiritual Health: A Source of Solace

In my personal and professional experience, nurturing one's spiritual health has been a cornerstone in managing chronic illnesses. It's about cultivating a connection with something greater than oneself, finding peace, and purpose that transcends physical challenges. This spiritual connection might manifest through various practices such as meditation, prayer, engaging in meaningful rituals, or simply spending time in nature. Fostering this aspect of your health can provide deep comfort, clarity, and a sense of belonging to a larger, more profound reality.

Integrating Holistic Goals into Everyday Life

The integration of holistic health goals into daily life is an exercise in consistency, adaptation, and self-compassion. It's about making small, yet significant changes in your routine that collectively contribute to a substantial impact on your overall well-being. This could involve starting your day with a few minutes of mindful breathing, consciously choosing healthier food options throughout the day, or dedicating a quiet moment each evening for self-reflection or journaling. The key is to embed these practices into your daily life so that they become natural, sustainable components of your routine.

Overcoming Obstacles: The Power of Resilience and Adaptability

Embarking on a path towards holistic health, particularly when dealing with chronic conditions, is often fraught with challenges and setbacks. It's a journey that demands resilience, flexibility, and a willingness to continuously adapt your strategies in response to changing needs and circumstances. It's important to approach these obstacles with a mindset that views every challenge as an opportunity for learning and growth. Embrace the setbacks as part of the journey, knowing that each step, no matter how small, is a progression towards a healthier, more balanced you.

You Are Not Alone: Embracing Community and Support

A crucial aspect of your journey towards holistic health is the understanding that you are not alone. There is a myriad of support systems available, waiting to be accessed and embraced. From healthcare providers specializing in chronic conditions to online forums and local support groups, there is a wealth of resources at your disposal. Holistic health coaches, therapists, and peer support networks can offer invaluable guidance, empathy, and a shared understanding of your experiences. Engaging with these support systems can significantly enrich your journey, providing you with the tools, knowledge, and emotional support necessary for navigating the complexities of chronic illness.

Enhancing Quality of Life Through Holistic Health

The overarching goal of setting and pursuing holistic health objectives, particularly in the context of chronic illness, is to enhance your quality of life. It's about cultivating a life filled with joy, peace, and fulfillment, despite the challenges you may encounter. With the right approach, mindset, and support, a better quality of life is not just a hopeful aspiration; it's a tangible, achievable reality. It's about redefining what health means to you, discovering new ways to experience joy and satisfaction, and embracing every day with a renewed sense of purpose and possibility.

Conclusion

As we collectively step forward into this new year, let's do so with a spirit of compassion, determination, and an open heart. Remember, you are not alone on this path of holistic health. I am here with you, sharing the wisdom and insights gleaned from my own journey, ready to support and guide you every step of the way. Together, let's embrace the challenges, celebrate the victories, and transform our health narratives into stories of empowerment and joy.

Your Turn: Join the Conversation

I warmly invite you to share your experiences, thoughts, and aspirations. What are your holistic health goals for this year? How do you plan to navigate the challenges and embrace the available support? Share your journey in the comments below and let's foster a vibrant community of shared learning, support, and growth.

Together, we can make this year a transformative one, filled with health, happiness, and holistic well-being.

With all my love and light,

Shelia Heard, Your Momma Warrior

FAQs

How can I set realistic fitness goals with a chronic illness?

Start with gentle, low-impact activities and gradually increase as comfortable. Always consult with healthcare professionals for tailored advice.

What is some effective stress-management techniques for chronic illness?

Techniques like mindfulness, deep breathing, and engaging in enjoyable hobbies can be effective in managing stress related to chronic illness.

Can holistic health practices reduce symptoms of chronic illness?

While not a cure, holistic practices can complement medical treatments by improving overall well-being, reducing stress, and enhancing mental health.

How important is diet in managing chronic illness?

Diet is crucial and should be tailored to individual needs. Consulting with a nutritionist, as I did on my journey, can be very beneficial.

What role does the community play in managing chronic illness?

A supportive community, like the one I aim to foster, offers understanding, shared resources, and emotional support, all of which are invaluable.

#HolisticHealth #WellnessJourney #HealthGoals2024 #MindBodySpirit #SelfCare #HealthyLiving #Mindfulness #NutritionGoals #FitnessMotivation #StressManagement #EmotionalWellbeing #PersonalGrowth #NewYearNewYou #HolisticWellness #LifestyleChange

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afghanprincess69 · 11 months

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uriah uriah

what's to be what's to be - hearing the arc of his teenage years and the desolation spent in vancouver

and a cursory google search- finding the NOTES OF HIS FAILED RELATIONSHIPS.

I'm deathly spelled. i'm death-spelled. I like this guy. I do. I really do - I wonder how much he likes me. what's the arc he foresees? does he look past himself, and see a me in it? letter-minded me. my mind made up of swimming words that don't stop. the words fetter and bulge in my breast. they extend down the tendrils of my nervous system. they keep me up at night. my neuroticism, I see beneath his pallid surface one likewise neurotic. He channels it, but I suppose every dam can have a burst. We like homesteading. He likes fermenting. So many creature comforts line up. And when we speak it feels like two ends of the same mind- conversing pleasantly with itself.

well he likes kissing me. is he prone to a sex life? is he prone to a life - interspersed with me in it? me, and how I do what I love, does he want to keep it under his wing? how timidly do I pluck his strings, to see what music they make. the strings start slow, and begin to pick up faster and faster, till they ululate and play a song, i get larger and larger entranced by. Till it stops, he recedes, guarding of his song. (still some chimes chirp through in between sips of coors lite)

We are at present, both tortured people. I'm parsing his online diary! I'm privy to this! and he puts it out, for the world, for eyes like mine to gaze wide eyed and thread deeper. Our tortures are ripe, underneath the skin, waiting to burst.

He swims into the social circle nicely. He enjoys my friends, they enjoy him. He's making a darling effort, putting together a dolly for Bo, we chat so nicely with Coletre. He asks after potential male threats around me - Gabe. Well Gabe is cute, what can I say, and yet gay!

I'm blunt to … Uriah? my instinct reaches for this name. "Do you want to have sex more?" "More than once a week?" "Yeah. you made me horny. I thought about being a hoe this week, but then I thought better of it." "Don't you like to be a hoe?" "……..no……. not really." and it's true. I prefer the quality over the quantity.

Maybe he just thinks of me as some sex on the side. I suppose I can be that. Just some exotic sex on the side. a pretty package for fucking. I think he thinks of me as that. I shall not dole it out too heavily then. until he sees me in the full conception of myself. i'm more than just the sex I want.

When we are together, it seems rushed. I want it to be slow, drawn out, investigated. I'm nervous and I rush things in my nervousness. slowing down has been part of what I've wanted for a while, to move with a bit more investigation.

my cloying suspicion is that i'm just a pretty bit of sex on the side, and not worth abandoning the loneliness he's committing to. His words, books, himself, a bit of work. and Loneliness. He wants to do his MFA in creative writing at UBC. I'm sure he'll find a pretty white girl to adulate. He wants to go back to the place I fled. I wonder if that should be in store for me, does he want me there, or shall we briefly touch genitals and ricochet backwards. He's pursuing what I want to pursue. How nice it would be to reach together, bounce the ideas off each other. He seemed encouraging of this, almost, almost.

Does he grasp me there in the future? Can he foresee a shadow of domestic bliss?

Him bending over me and giving me a kiss before he left in the morning. Why does he look at me sheepishly. I want to leave him alone till he feels strong in distinction. Perhaps that's the course I ought to take, and go on flitting about my little social circle. Making do alone, and not letting this sweet man with our conjugal hobbies and words, get me all worked up.

Are there more Marc's in Montreal? Certainly. More Uriah's? I'm not sure. I like his package. I like the space he's drawn for himself - so close to mine. Could he really upend his life for UBC? Tony, his cat? Does he need an MFA in creative writing to carve out the his practice? To create of your own accord- that is difficult. To accrue debt for the solace of being a student - well it does feel quite nice. Academia is a cozy blanket, one that I too long for. The structure, and the milieu, the likeminds.

I wonder how he might characterize me as one of his romantic interests. All his relationships with women have been fraught, he says. I do feel this tension. It's in his spatial reticence, when we are together the thoughts flow so readily however. And away - what does he think. As a cat who goes to and fro. curled up in a corner or batting a fly. Licking his paws.

These writers. I'm locked into a special language with them, trickling down from the words themselves. am I strong enough to withstand the tumult of not-knowing? ought I go on looking for others to sate my yearning for transcendental language exchange? I make love with everything I love. my art. My home. my friends save for genitalia, and my amours - i can't help but express myself fecundly. an extension of feeling. is it the whole of me? I don't know. I'm being very careful with this one.

My softness needs a place to spill- it cannot all be with him. I need my art. I need a cat. I need my friends. I need to spill, spill elsewhere so that I don't drown sticky in the after puddle.

The Montrealer habit of puttering till dusk. Then the birds may cry.

(I can't help but keep parsing his catalog of relationship tragedies) (mentally i'm already breaking up with him, to save myself the strife) (could building together be as supportive as a whole academic regime?) (I want him to stay) (i'm detaching - people never stay- they leave and disappoint me; my love. They see me wholly and they leave. Ought I to do it first, and keep myself to myself. Forever shaded with pincers. He who wants me will want me. I crave to be wanted impolitely, within the safety of tasteful foundations.)

(he respects me, but does he want me?)

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sphaeraa · 3 years

Video

youtube

Lindsey Stirling - Take Flight

HEADCANON [ IN DEVELOPMENT ] : When infiltrating a new soul, the Hōgyoku must succumb to the natural laws within the realm of that individual person’s innerworld. Only after facing down, submitting and perceiving the world around it, will the Hōgyoku be able to get beneath it’s foundation to elevate not only itself, but bolster the world it comes to perceive above it. Until then, though, he is playing by the rules of any Zanpakutō, and must form an ebb and flow if he is to harness the entirety of one’s transcendence.

#musings;#sphaera caeli;#headcanon;#hc;#ref;#development;#hc development #Take Flight #Lindsey Stirling #power aesth;#synergy aesth;#muse beat aesth;#beat aesth;#[Hmmm~.... is the flower Kyoka Suigetsu~?]#[Is it Aizen-sama... awakening the Hogyoku... while his resonance guides it to fruition?]#[HMMM.]#[MY MIND. IT SWIMS WITH THREAD POTENTIAL.]

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peachtree-dish · 3 years

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A Te Che Sei Il Mio Amore Grande

I'm writing fanfics again. Woot!

Inspired by the song of the same name.

Chapter One: Quando Ti Guardo

June 06, 1969

Luca drummed his fingers restlessly along the soft velvet of his armrest, his eyes switched from peering out at the Italian coastal terrain and once again reading the watch that rested against his wrist.

“You’re doing it again.”

His eyes snapped up to watch as Giulia sighed at him from behind the thick leather-bound novel in her hands. As her amused yet exasperated gaze landed on him, he grinned sheepishly.

“Mi dispiace, Giulia. I honestly don’t remember the ride being this long.” He checked his watch again and grimaced. “Has it really only been ten minutes?”

Admitting defeat, the red-headed girl marked her place and set the book aside. “Luca, it’s been nine months, si? But what is the one thing we’ve learned about time from Segnora Rosa?” She quirked a knowing brow at him as Luca slumped forward.

“Time is always constant, lo so.” He mumbled.

“Esattamente, therefore,” She continued as she picked up her book with renewed gusto, “the train will take exactly an hour every single time we travel to and from Porto Rosso.” With her argument settled, Giulia returned to her page and began reading once more. After a moment of stillness, she peered at him subtly from above her page. Luca was looking outside once more, his eyes filled with a mixture of yearning, and his mouth twisted in anxiety. With a kinder expression, she said, “If it’s any consolation, amico mio, I’m sure he’s just as nervous to see you.”

Luca puffed out his cheeks but didn’t reply, instead preferring to peer down at his clasped hands.

“Maybe you could finish the bracelets you’ve been working on, that will help you pass the time better and maybe keep your mind off things, eh?” She nodded to his school jacket pocket which held a mass of multicolored strings that had yet to be organized. Perking up at the thought, Luca agreed and set to work on detangling the threads from one another.

Outside the bright light of the morning sun blazed peacefully across the pristine indigo coastline and followed the two youths on the journey. Some miles away, a small town was anything but peaceful.

“Massimo!” A young man jumped up the paved stairways of Porto Rosso, disturbing the half-dozen pigeons resting there. At their indignant coos and squawks, Alberto quickly glanced back with a slight shout of “sorry!” before continuing on his rampage towards the Marcovaldo residence. Skidding to a stop once he passed the archway, he leaned heavily against the tree that he and Luca had slept in nearly a year ago prior and gasped.

With a large crash, both Massimo and Machiavelli burst through the front door looking frazzled and ready for a fight. The latter was fully puffed up with his claws digging into the cobblestone walkway and his pupils shrunken to small slits. Massimo swiveled his head around looking for whatever danger could have provoked Alberto’s shout, his shoulders hunched and his good arm gripping his harpoon tightly. However, when no danger presented itself, he glared half-heartedly through his eyebrows at the young sea monster who sheepishly grinned.

“Well, where’s the fuoco, eh?”

“Yeah, sorry about that, Massimo, everything’s fine. But!” He pointed animatedly at the large man, “you are aware of what day it is, right? We only have a few hours until-”

“Until Giulia and Luca arrive, si piccolo, lo so. You’ve only been talking about it for a month now.” Shouldering his harpoon and popping his neck, the old fisherman turned to enter the house, an unhappy Machiavelli climbing onto his open shoulder, but not before growling irritably at Alberto.

“Come have breakfast, Alberto, we’ll see what we can do to keep busy while we wait.” The large man patted Alberto’s sun-kissed shoulder before entering the house. Slumping in resignation, the teen followed behind Massimo but not before stretching to give one last searching look at the expansive cliffs that breached the horizon, hopeful to see a plume of smoke.

**************

When the train finally pulled into the stazione, Luca was already flinging the train door open and running into the waiting arms of his mother who squealed with delight and refused to set him down for several long moments, much to Luca’s embarrassment and secret delight. An equally excited Giulia was soon to follow, and she said a quick hello to the Paguro’s before launching into Massimo’s open arms. While his father patted him on the head and asked the generic questions of wellbeing, Luca tried to glance around his parents. If Massimo was here, then so was-

“I told you I’d be okay.” Luca’s heart thudded painfully in his chest for one moment as Alberto sauntered into view. Prying himself from his mother, the young sea monster swiftly walked to Alberto and embraced him without pause. Luca buried his face into the crook of Alberto’s neck and breathed him in for the first time in nine months.

Whatever nerves and fear Alberto had been holding released him the moment his best friend enveloped him in his arms. Luca had grown slightly taller over the colder months and his skin had lost its sun-kissed pigmentation, but the warmth in his eyes had not faded in the slightest.

“Welcome home, Luca,” Alberto mumbled into his friend's hair, ignoring the wetness gathering at the corner of his eyes, he pulled away with a chuckle. “Are we going to do this every time we say ciao?” Luca smiled wetly and scrubbed weakly at his face.

“I think I could get used to it if it’s with you.” Alberto resolutely decided to ignore the heat that gathered in his cheeks as Luca turned to answer Massimo. Brushing it off as too much time in the sun, he tuned into the conversation just as the gentle fisherman began speaking of their new fishing truck.

“Grazie to Alberto’s ‘knowing fish’, we earned enough for me to invest in an auto,” Massimo stated proudly, clasping a large hand onto Alberto’s shoulder. The teen modestly scratched under his hat and shrugged, turning to Giulia and Luca.

“He’s really only saying that. Massimo did all the hard work; I just stuck my head underwater a few times every day to navigate us. But!” Alberto waved towards the station entrance and began pulling Luca by the hand. “you really have to see the truck I’ve been writing to you about.”

The truck itself was what could hardly be described as new. The front bumper was barely hanging on and rusted completely through on the right side. Green chipped paint covered the doors and Luca noted with a swell of warmth the black hand-painted logo of “Massimo and Alberto Fishing co.” Most people would consider the truck like garbage, but Alberto found the faded paint and broken glass charming, and he said as much to the group. Giulia rubbed suspiciously at the truck’s tailgate, her eyes squinting as she studied it.

“The Americans call it a ‘Hudson pickup’,” Massimo announces proudly, his pronunciation heavily accented.

“I’m still not sold on it being actually safe, but I’ll admit it wasn’t too bad the first time Massimo drove it.” Daniela opined, opening the front door with a loud squeal.

“Yeah, not so much when Alberto decided to try it,” Lorenzo muttered good-naturedly. “My tail still won’t swim straight.”

“You drove the truck?!”

“You crashed the truck?!”

Giulia and Luca exclaimed, she glanced curiously at her papa who raised his hands innocently. Luca began looking at Alberto’s arms and skin, scouring for any injuries, completely ignoring the rest of the conversation.

“He’ll be sixteen this year, mia figlia, he’ll need at least a year of practice. Nessun problema, your time will come soon.”

“Oh, come on,” Alberto kindly pulled Luca’s hands away and hopped on the rear end beaming down at his family, “it wasn’t so bad for the first time. Plus, she just needs some love and she’ll be right as rain. You guys just can’t see her potential.” He patted the chipped paint fondly. “Not to mention this makes delivery way faster.” Massimo chuckled as Lorenzo continued to grumble and Daniela merely rolled her eyes.

“Si, and speaking of quick deliveries, let’s go home and eat lunch, hm?” Massimo lifted Luca and Giulia's luggage into the bed of the truck while the rest of the family, the Paguro and Marcovaldo families together again at last.

As the truck rattled through the colorful fishing port threatening to fall apart, Giulia and Luca rattled story after story to Alberto and Luca’s parents. Alberto tried to ignore the feelings of jealousy at the way his friends appeared to be so in tune. He laughed politely at their inside jokes and did his best to understand half the jargon they spouted, but in reality, he felt more lost than ever before. Stuffing the uncomfortable feelings down as far they’d go, Alberto helped the Paguro’s down first so that Daniela could help with preparing the food alongside Massimo. While Lorenzo had shown an interest in learning the human ways of cooking, he hadn’t quite managed to pull it off as well.

“You set the curtains on fire one time, and they never let you set foot in the kitchen again,” Lorenzo complained to the kids as he followed his wife.

“Except it wasn’t just the curtains,” Alberto whispered loudly to his best friends who giggled unapologetically.

“ONE TIME!” Lorenzo called hotly from inside.

Giulia smirked at her friends, “Some things never change, amicos.” Grabbing her bag, she turned to the house, “Oh, and Luca don’t forget about your gift!” She winked knowingly at a flustered Luca and befuddled Alberto.

Alberto glanced down at Luca who was doing his best impression of a frozen fish.

“Uh, was that supposed to me-”

“I made you something!!” Luca blurted before slapping a hand over his mouth. He glanced nervously at Alberto, who merely stared back stunned. Fishing in his uniform jacket pocket, Luca wordlessly pulled out the two multicolored bracelets from his pocket and held one out to Alberto. Alberto stood frozen his eyes glued to the green and purple threads glistening in the warm afternoon sun, his mouth hung loose in a silent ‘oh’. The threads danced innocently between them, and Luca felt his bravado begin to waver. When he still hadn’t said anything or moved to take the bracelet from Luca’s grasp, the younger boy grew more flustered and started to pull away, his voice shaking. “I- I’m sorry, you probably think this is so stupid.” Luca tried to not panic, desperately willing his mortification away.

Alberto’s hand shot out to pull both the bracelet and Luca’s hand back. “I can’t believe you made this for me.” He whispered, cradling the bracelet tenderly as he studied it in his palms. He traced the twining threads and smiled at how the pattern reminded him of scales. He looked at Luca and put his arm around him to pull him close. “I love it, thank you. No one’s ever given me something so beautiful.”

“R-really?” Luca asked, his expression hopeful.

“Really. Did you make this too?” Alberto squinted at the painted pearl hanging from the end of the strings, creating a clasp to hold it in place.

“Giulia's mom actually helped me design those with her paints.” Luca motioned to the pearl. “She said that gifts help make the distances feel smaller.” He pondered the delicately painted waves of his own pearl. “It’s funny when I was learning so much and seeing so many places, I never realized how far from home I would feel.” His gaze landed on Alberto, only now realizing how close they were. Up close he could see the new freckles that peppered his cheeks and how his face was slimming down. Nine months of hard work had broadened his shoulders and caused his wiry arms to harden with lean muscle. Clearing his throat, he pulled away again.

“Anyways, I guess we better go inside before the food gets cold.” Blushing as red as Massimo’s favorite wine, Luca threw one last smile over his shoulder and ran inside. Alberto grinned in response and slid the bracelet over his wrist fastening it so that it hugged him snugly. An emotion that he couldn’t quite name filled every part of him, spreading from his toes to the tip of his ears. Walking inside to the smells of homemade pasta and loud laughter, Alberto felt that the promise of a wonderful summer had just begun.

#pixar luca #luca 2021 #alberto x luca #luca x alberto #fanfic #mutual pining #they share one brain cell #Giulia has it 99% of the time #just teens trying to figure out life #a te che sei il mio grande amore

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dmsden · 3 years

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How Much Prep? - Tips on campaign and encounter prep

Hullo, Gentle Readers. This week's Question from a Denizen comes from my good friend Rourkie, a veteran player of my games and DM in their own right. They ask, “Any hot tips or tricks for long-term campaign planning? There's a couple of games I'd like to run in the future but I'm absolutely rubbish at planning and pacing my adventure out ahead of time, even if I know it'll be better for being pre-planned. Lol”

Campaign prep for me is a delicate balancing act. If you prep too much, you risk your players taking things in a direction you didn't plan for, and you end up having to shelve a lot of work that you've done. If you prep too little, then you run the risk of running out of things to throw at your players during a game session. It's a challenge.

I'll start by saying that, while I don't recommend it to everyone, having a solid idea of the world I'm running the game in works well for me. I started working on the world of the Shattered Pact as soon as 4th edition D&D was announced, and I didn't start running my game for several years after 4e had been released. That gave me lots of time to create a setting I liked...one that felt to me like an old-school setting, but also one that had room for all the things I was hearing about 4e. With a solid world like that, I'm never concerned about running out of things for my players to do. I can always pull something out of my lore or the culture of the area, even if it's just to delay the PCs for the rest of the session so that I can plan for the next one.

Quite often, when I start a campaign, I have a strong opening set piece I want to run, a strong idea of how I want the campaign to conclude, and a number of ideas for things that would be fun to explore during the campaign. I then leave a lot up to player agency. For example, when I started my Swords of the Amanar campaign, I had the idea for a giant showdown at the end in a dreamworld ruled by an Elder Brain Lich. I also had an image of the players being essentially deserted by their mentors in the same town, and then a kobold attack with a mysterious force behind it that would present a mystery. Exploring that mystery would eventually lead to discovering the existence of the Elder Brain Lich, but I had a wide swath of empty space. I dangled various plot threads in front of the players, and I followed the ones they seemed interested in. If they hadn't shown any interest in the mystery behind the kobold attack, I would've put that aside for a time, and, eventually, would've dangled something else related to the Underdark, the Mind Flayers, and the Lich that was ruling them. Ultimately, if they'd shown no interest in that plot at all, I might've developed something else, but, fortunately for me, they were keen to find out why the town had been attacked, and things proceeded from there.

I find it's very helpful to check in with the players, as opposed to their characters, and see if there's any kind of plot lines they're particularly interested in. For example, in my current campaign, a number of people mentioned being interested in exploring a War storyline, so a war against the orcs popped up a number of times as a strong plot element. The PCs even spent some time as voluntary soldiers in that war, and then returned, years of game time later, to assist in its conclusion.

I also like to ask players if there are monsters they'd like to see in the campaign, particular magic-items they'd love their characters to find, NPC cultures they'd like to visit, and so on. That gives me things to build on. If someone wants to fight an owlbear, I would make sure to work an owlbear hunt into one of my stories, or have one lurking in a cave somewhere along the PCs' path. If they want a monster with some strong story elements, such as Drow, Mind Flayers, Dragons, etc, then that gives me a whole storyline to work with. If someone has always wanted to play a character that assembles the Rod of Seven Parts, that gives me a potential element to thread through the whole campaign!

I find it helps to have your over-arching goals, but not to plan more than a level's worth of material at a time, beyond rough ideas. That leaves the flexibility for the players to take things in a direction you weren't expecting. If you're running a campaign where they're fighting ettercaps in a swamp, and they get it in their heads that the ettercaps are serving the will of a Swamp Hag, you can then have the flexibility to create a Swamp Hag and insert her, as if you'd planned it all along. Maybe you intended them to meet an exiled priestess of Lolth instead, but this plot will still be satisfying, and, if the priestess of Lolth is important to your overall plans, maybe the Hag has a letter from the priestess that can steer the PCs back where you need them to go. And if they don't, then follow the PCs' interests. It's their story, too, and they deserve agency.

Once I have a vague idea of what a level's worth of material is likely to be about, I like to create some very sketchy encounters. I look over level-appropriate monsters, using the Challenge Ratings as a guideline, and I pick ones that I think will fit the themes of what I want to run. I rely heavily on the advice in the Dungeon Master's Guide and Xanathar's Guide to Everything on XP budgets and such. I might jot these down in my notes with a few thoughts on the setting of the encounter. For example, I recently created an encounter for a group of 6 2nd level characters that were heading into a sea cave that was likely to have undead in it. I chose ghouls, because I think ghouls are pretty nifty and a scary fight, and I chose to make them “lacedons”, the aquatic version of ghouls I remembered from 1st edition D&D, by giving them a swim speed of 30 feet (which, it turns out, had already been done in the adventure Dead in Thay.) I jotted some notes about them attacking from underwater in flooded tunnels. Later, I picked a cool battlemat I had that showed flooded tunnels and noted to myself about where the lacedons would be. Ta dah! Cool and creepy fight, especially in the darkened tunnels.

Rourkie, I don't know if that helps, but I hope so! Roll them bones, my friend, and give your players a great story!

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theartofdreaming1 · 3 years

Photo

Katniss, bravely stepping inbetween Gale and Thread (and his whip) - she’s so courageous and protective, she deserves the world 😭

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 7-9 are below the cut. (Is it just me, or are my notes getting longer and longer with each and every post? I swear, this book is so meaty, we’ll soon reach the point where I have to type out the entire chapter, with my thoughts in the margins)

heart

“Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else in unthinkable.”

I think these words are a result of Katniss being so afraid of losing Gale that she’s kinda overcompensating; their relationship has been strained these past few months and they’d just had a row, separating from each other on bad terms - and the next time she sees him, he’s been whipped so bad that he’s lost consciousness and could be potentially dying from his wounds. Of course she’s so terrified of losing him, that she’s holding on as tightly as she can to him. It’s important to keep in mind how important their relationship is to her and we see that in her preceding thoughts: What a pair we were - fatherless, frightened, but fiercely commited, too, to keeping our families alive. Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we’d found each other. I think of a hundred moments in the woods, lazy afternoons fishing, the day I taught him to swim, that time I twisted my knee and he carried me home. Mutually counting each other, watching each other’s backs, forcing each other to be brave. - Gale was the first person who was her equal, a kindred spirit, her partner. After Katniss had lost both of her parents when her father died and her mother succumbed to her depression - the people who were supposed to care for her and guide her through growing up - she was stuck with the role of sole provider and protector of her family at age eleven. She must have been so lonely all this time until she met this boy who understood what she was going through and they learned from each other and shouldered their burdens together, to take off some of the overwhelming pressure. Of course that relationship, of course Gale is important to her. But also now their relationship has become more fragile, after the Games they are in danger of growing apart - it’s got to be so terrifying to feel like the one proper, mutual relationship you’ve had seems to be slipping through your fingers. With everything that’s going on, her entire life as it is teetering on the razor’s edge (heck, the president himself has been threatening her and her family!), it’s no wonder that Katniss is craving that familiarity and safety that her relationship with Gale used to provide her with. And seeing Gale in this state just has her holding on to him more tightly than ever.

mind

Hmm, no big moment is coming to my mind right now; I think I’m always most impressed by the tiny moments that show how tenacious, resilient and fiercely kind humans can be - like Darius stepping forward to stop Gale’s cruel punishment, Leevy volunteering to tell Hazelle about Gale and promising to stay with the Hawthorne children, Madge bringing the morphling, Katniss pressing Darius’s hand in the Training Center, Twill taking Bonnie with her to flee to D13 and so on.

soul

I believe that Katniss was honestly surprised to learn that Gale had feelings for her; she had categorically shut down the idea of entering a romantic relationship for herself, so I don’t think she’d seriously consider anyone being romantically interested in her in return (that’s not how that works, of course, but I think that’s how she perceived the whole shtick). Their kiss threw her completely for a loop and if anything, she mostly saw it as something that contributed to the deterioration of their previous, easy and comfortable relationship.

Chapter 7

A mockingjay is a creature the Capitol never intended to exist. [...] They hadn’t anticipated its will to live. - In a way, the Capitol continues to make this mistake with the people living in the districts, too - underestimating their will to live (opposed to just surviving)

I look in his [Gale’s] eyes. His temper can’t quite mask the hurt, the sense of betrayal he feels at my engagement to Peeta. This will be my last chance, this meeting today, to not lose Gale forever. - Okay, we don’t know how much Katniss might be (incorrectly) presuming here, but the idea that Gale might feel betrayal because his best friend is being forced into an engagement pisses me off. It’s fine if he’s feeling jealous because she’s being paired off with Peeta when he wishes he could have a shot with her, but how in the world does this even rate as a betrayal?! A) It’s done against her will and B) Just because they’re friends doesn’t mean Katniss owes him anything when we’re talking about romantic feelings... Ugh 😒 Also, it’s quite noteworthy how insecure Katniss feels about their relationship - she’s constantly worried Gale will drop her and their friendship (waiting for Gale after the camera teams left after winning the Games: I’d begun to think that he’d given up on me in the weeks that had passed.- Ch. 2) and it doesn’t help that she’s been through that extreme, traumatic experience without him and they haven’t had much opportunity to spend a lot of time with each other (with the Victory Tour and Gale having to work so much) and when they do hang out, they don’t seem to really talk much, which doesn’t exactly help...

He [Gale] tosses the gloves on my lap. “Here. I don’t want your fiancé’s old gloves.” “He’s not my fiancé. That’s just part of the act. And these aren’t his gloves. They were Cinna’s,” I say. “Give them back, then, he says. - Gale can be so petty sometimes 🙄

While I talk, [...] [Gale] occupies himself with turning the food in the leather bag into a meal for us. Toasting bread and cheese, coring apples, placing chestnuts in the fire to roast. I watch his hands, his beautiful, capable fingers. Scarred, as mine were before the Captiol erased all marks from my skin, but strong and deft. [...] Hands I trust. - Oh boy, this moment really shows how these two are at cross purposes right now - Gale’s prepping the food as you would for a toasting (romantic connotation), while Katniss is oberserving his hands, thinking how their hands used to match (not anymore!) and basically wishing herself back into the time before the Games, when things were ‘simpler’/more clearly defined (and also platonic!); there is nothing romantic from her P.O.V. - it’s all about the friendship and trust

[Gale] steps in and I feel myself lifted off the ground. The room spins, and I have to lock my arms around Gale’s neck to brace myself. He’s laughing, happy. “Hey!” I protest, but I’m laughing, too. Gale sets me down but doesn’t release his hold on me. “Okay, let’s run away.” [...] “You’re sure?” I say. [...] “I’m sure. I’m completely, entirely, one hundred percent sure.” - Yeah, and I’m sure you’re not going to change your opinion in the next five minutes, Gale... In his defense, Gale didn’t know all the details, so in that regard it’s totally valid that he might decide to change his mind after having more input... It’s just that Katniss specifically asks him whether he’s sure and his reply is so full of conviction (100% sure!), only for him to do a complete 180 just a couple of minutes later; Gale’s very hot and cold, which makes for such a harsh contrast when compared to Peeta’s more measured reaction later in the chapter

He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. [...] I don’t try to move away. Why should I, anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you.” That’s why. - Oh man, Katniss just can’t catch a break �� Really not wise of Gale to drop the L-bomb here (after, what? a kiss they never talked about and little else... their communication is truly abysmal and it’s really damaging to their relationship, hurting the both of them)

“Gale, I can’t think about anyone that way now. All I can think about, every day, is how afraid I am. And there doesn’t seem to be room for anything else. If we could get somewhere safe, maybe I could be different. I don’t know.” I can see him swallowing his disappointment. “So, we’ll go. We’ll find out.” - I mean, honestly, I totally understand where Katniss is coming from - she doesn’t need a romantic interest, she needs a partner, which is why she’s been so eager to talk to her hunting partner, someone she’s used to rely on for survival and now he’s also confounding their relationship by introducing that romance-angle (as if it wasn’t bad enough that her relationship with Peeta got kind of messed up when that same angle was forced upon them prematurely)... Also, telling how Katniss thinks she’d have to be different to maybe even consider a romantic relationship with Gale - Katniss as she is right now just can’t see herself wanting to be with Gale romantically; it would require a change... I’ve got to give Gale credit for still going along with it, and trying to push past his disappointment, though

“My [Gale’s] mother is going to take some convincing.” [...] “Mine, too. I’ll just have to make her see reason. Take her for a long walk. Make sure she understands we won’t survive the alternative.” “She’ll understand. I watched a lot of the Games with her and Prim. She won’t say no to you,” says Gale. - That’s interesting, I wonder what exactly Gale means by that? That Mrs. Everdeen won’t say no to Katniss because she feels guilty that Katniss had to go through the Games or because watching her daughter compete in the Games really made her realize how messed up Panem is? Or that she’s more inclined to trust Katniss’s judgement after everything that has happened?

“Haymitch will be the real challenge.” “Haymitch?” Gale abandons the chestnuts. “You’re asking him to come with us?” “I have to, Gale. I can’t leave him and Peeta because they’d-” His scowl cuts me off. “What?” “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how large our party was,” he snaps at me. - Gale doesn’t seem to have realized how close and important Peeta and Haymitch have become to Katniss... maybe because they never properly talked about this aspect of Katniss’s life (I swear, their shoddy communication must account for at least half of the damage their relationship has taken in these past few months alone)

“What if he [Peeta] decides to stay?” he [Gale] asks. I try to sound indifferent, but my voice cracks. “Then he stays.” “You’d leave him behind?” Gale asks. “To save Prim and my mother, yes,” I answer. “I mean, no! I’ll get him to come.” “And me, would you leave me?” Gale’s expression is rock hard now. - Boy, oh boy! I think Gale knows (like Peeta) that Katniss could never leave behind the people she cares about; then, he’s kind of gauging whether Peeta has already received the Katniss Everdeen Stamp of ‘Caring’ - and, as it turns out, he has! And then Gale ends up making it into a bit of competition by asking her whether she would leave him behind (or, alternately, her turning him down has him confused about the depth of their relationship, I dunno); not fun

“There’s an uprising in Eight?” he [Gale] says in a hushed voice. I try to backpedal. To defuse him, as I tried to defuse the districts. - Katniss is going to be about as successful as she’d been at defusing the districts, too - But here we have another example of Katniss trying to rein in Gale’s temper because she’s afraid he’s going to get himself in trouble (like when she decided not to tell him about Snow’s visit to her house because she was worried what he’d do with that information)... It’s really not great that she feels the need to censor herself so he won’t do something dangerous... Katniss knows first-hand how badly impulsive actions and decisions can be received in the Capitol - and she never even meant for a rebellion to happen!

“And it’s my fault, Gale. Because of what I did in the arena. If I had just killed myself with those berries, none of this would’ve happened. Peeta could have come home and lived, and everyone else would have been safe. too.” “Safe to do what?” he says in a gentler tone. “Starve? Work like slaves? Send their kids to the reaping? You haven’t hurt people - you’ve given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it. - Katniss is taking all the responsibility upon herself again... Gale is right to point out that she was merely a catalyst, not the cause for the rebellion - the cause are the awful living conditions of the people in the districts

“Stop it! You don’t know what you’re saying. The Peacekeepers outside of Twelve, they’re not like Darius, or even Cray! The lives of district people - they mean less than nothing to them!” I say. “That’s why we have to join the fight!” he answers harshly. “No! we have to leave here before they kill us and a lot of other people, too!” [...] “You leave, then, I’d never go in a million years.” [...] “What about your family?” “What about the other families, Katniss? The ones who can’t run away?” - This discourse is so painful because they are both right - Katniss has seen more of the districts and how things are handled beyond the (relatively tame) confines of D12 and it’s fair that she wants to know that the people she cares about are safe from harm; Gale, of course, has a point commenting that not everyone has that opportunity and the only way to have a long-lasting, wide-spread improvement of their conditions is through rebelling against their oppressor - but that will inevitably come along with sacrifices and collateral damage and it’s easy to say that it will be worth it in the long run, but when those who are hurt/dead could end up being your loved ones, it’s definitely easier said than done

He throws Cinna’s gloves at my feet. “I changed my mind. I don’t want anything they made in the Capitol.” And he’s gone. I look down at the gloves. Anything they made in the Capitol? Was that directed at me? Does he think I am now just another product of the Capitol and therefore something untouchable? The unfairness of it all fills me with rage. But it’s mixed up with fear over what kind of crazy thing he might do next. - Gale getting rid of Cinna’s gloves just because they are from the Capitol is a prime example of this “us vs. them” mindset that he will be (worringly) fast to adopt - of course, perceiving the opposite side as “other” will make it easier to fight against them; however, it’s all too easy to lose sight of your opponent’s humanity when you think like that (think of how Gale has a hard time understanding Katniss’s distress upon seeing her prep team being treated so terribly/inhumanely in D13); Katniss feeling upset that Gale might perceive her as a product of the Capitol instead of its victim is understandable (and isn’t that exactly what the inhabitants of D13 are going to think of Peeta in MJ?) - and yet, she is still worried Gale could get himself into trouble with his impulsivity; she’s a good bean

”Going to town?” I ask. “Yes. I’m supposed to eat dinner with my family,” he [Peeta] says. - I’m tripping over the word ‘supposed’ here - it doesn’t sound like Peeta’s looking forward to hanging out with his fam, although it can’t be that often, since they’ve been away on Victory Tour and he is living alone (maybe the end of the chapter will give us another hint why that is 😒😒)... I can’t help but wonder whether these family dinners are mainly for public perception (in that case... it really is no wonder Peeta is so good at playing the cameras - poor guy had to fool the outside world his entire life) or because they are the only chance for Peeta to hang out with any of the members of his family he might actually want to spend some time with

“Peeta, if I asked you to run away from the district with me, would you?” Peeta takes my arm, bringing me to a stop. He doesn’t need to check my face to see if I’m serious. “Depends on why you’re asking.” President Snow wasn’t convinced by me. There’s an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out,” I say. “By ‘we’ do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?” he asks. - Peeta doesn’t just blindly agree to Katniss’s proposal; he needs to know what’s going on first (he has been burnt before - no more secrets!) - and it’s a testament to how well he knows her that as soon as he’s asking whether she meant just the two of them, he corrects himself because knows that Katniss would never leave the ones she cares about behind

“What about Gale?” he says. “I don’t know. He might have other plans,” I say. Peeta shakes his head and gives me rueful smile. “I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I’ll go.” I feel a slight twinge of hope. “You will?” “Yeah. But I don’t think for a minute you will,” he says. [...] “Then you don’t know me. Be ready. It could be any time.” - Telling how Peeta immediately agrees to the plan once he gathers that Gale won’t come - he knows that Katniss cares about Gale and could never leave him behind, ergo she’d never actually leave under these circumstances - he knows her so well. Also, Katniss’s reaction is like that of a petulant child, it’s kind of funny 😄

“Katniss, hold up.” [...] “I really will go, if you want me to. I just think we better talk it through with Haymitch. Make sure we won’t be making things worse for everyone.” - Ultimately, Peeta would follow Katniss to the ends of the earth - doesn’t mean that he can’t throw in a sensible suggestion in there as well 😉 (Also, in the next chapter we will see how Katniss, Gale, and Peeta might be a little too inexperienced/naive to be able to form accurate expectations of what is to come - Haymitch and his generation have a little more experience in that regard)

He raises his head. “What’s that?” [...] I haven’t noticed the strange noise coming from the square. A whistling, the sound of an impact, the intake of breath from a crowd. “Come on,” Peeta says, his face suddenly hard. I don’t know why. I can’t place the sound, even guess at the situation. But it means something bad to him. - Why does my sweet boy know what a whipping sounds like, Suzanne, huh?! Care to explain that? 😭

Peeta steps up on a crate against the wall of the sweetshop and offers me a hand while he scans the square. I’m halfway up when he suddenly blocks my way. “Get down. Get out of here!” He’s whispering, but his voice is harsh with insistence. - Peeta was offering his hand to help Katniss up the crate because they are a team (and he’s a gentleman)! It’s only when he recognizes who is receiving those lashes and realizes that Katniss will lose her shit once she knows, which could make the current situation even worse, that he urges her to leave, and he is not the only one to think that: - Voices hiss. “Get out of here, girl.” “Only make it worse.” What do you want to do? Get him killed?”

Chapter 8

It’s too late to stop the arm from descending, and I instinctively know I won’t have the power to block it. Instead I throw myself directly between the whip and Gale. I’ve flung out my arms to protext as much of his broken body as possible, so there’s nothing to deflect the lash. I take the full force of it across the left side of my face. - Katniss is so selfless; she knows that it’s either Gale getting hit again or a lash to her own face and she chooses the latter

“Hold it!” a voice barks. Haymitch appears and trips over a Peacekeeper lying on the ground. It’s Darius. [...] He’s knocked out but still breathing. What happened? Did he try to come to Gale’s aid before I got here? - Haymitch sure appeared quickly - I can easily imagine Peeta taking off immediately to get him (or send someone to bring him to the square) once he knew Katniss couldn’t be stopped; but if Haymitch had been at his house in Victor’s Village, there is no way he’d have made that quickly to the square... maybe he was already at the Hob and had gotten wind of the whole situation? Also, poor Darius! Wearing a uniform/being in some sort of position of power is no guarantee you won’t get punished as soon as you show the tiniest glimpse of compassion - in a place like Panem, nobody is safe from the caprice of the people in charge

I see a flicker of recognition in the eyes of the man with the whip. [...] it wouldn’t be easy to identify me as the victor of the last Hunger Games. Especially with half my face swelling up. But Haymitch has been showing up on television for years, and he’d be difficult to forget. - Getting Haymitch truly was the smartest move to make (which is why I’m pretty sure it was a move on Peeta’s part - he’d know how to use reminders of ‘appearances’ to ensure a punishment wouldn’t go ‘too far’, y’know 😢). But also - Thread must have lived under a flipping rock, to not being able to recognizes Katniss (her face must have been plastered all over the place during the Victory Tour, which just had concluded recently) - or he was just too in the heat of the moment, with someone opposing him, bleugh 😒

“He [Gale] was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man. “He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.” - I love how Peeta’s just laying it down as it is; his phrasing just sounds so factual, rather than provocative (although it is, of course); he really has a way with words - Maybe we��re it. The only three people in the district who could make a stand like this. Although it’s sure to be temporary. There will be repercussions. - Haymitch, Peeta, and Katniss working together as a team again! Also, a good example of the effect people with public influence can have

One [Peacekeeper], a woman named Purnia who eats regularly at Greasy Sae’s, steps forward stiffly. “I believe, for a first offense, the required number of lashes has been dispensed, sir. Unless your sentence is death, which we would carry out by firing squad.” “Is that the standard protocol here?” asks the Head Peacekeeper. “Yes, sir,” Purnia says, and several others nod in agreement. I’m sure none of them actually know because, in the Hob, the standard protocol for someone showing up with a wild turkey is for everybody to bid on the drumsticks. - It’s kinda nice to see the local Peacekeepers supporting Purnia’s claim to get this display to stop - this is the only way out of this situation where Thread’s authority is not openly challenged (and we know Thread doesn’t take well to having his authority challenged - see Darius)

There’s no stretcher, but the old woman at the clothing stall sells us the board that serves as her countertop. “Just don’t tell where you got it,” she says, packing up the rest of her goods quickly. Most of the square has emptied, fear getting the better of compassion. But after what happened, I can’t blame anyone. - It’s sad how that air of intimidation makes people want to mask their acts of compassion (and also says a lot about the precariousness of the existing living situations if that old lady is still selling that board - I’d never even consider exchanging money for that, but that’s probably my privileged situation showing here; Katniss brings up the theme of fear vs compassion - very fitting, since it seems to be her driving force (although, generally, her compassion wins out over her fear) and despite her assertion that fear appears to be getting the better of compassion we see a good amount of people reaching out to help, such as the following example:

Leevy, a girl who lives a few houses down from mine in the Seam, takes my arm. My mother kept her little brother alive last year when he caught the measles. “Need help getting back?” Her gray eyes are scared but determined. - The subtle suggestion here that Leevy might be further motivated to help out because Katniss’s mom helped her little brother is also an excellent example of how kindness breeds kindness

“Get some snow on that,” Haymitch orders over his shoulder. I scoop up a handful of snow and press it against my cheek, numbing a bit of the pain. - This moment reminded me of Peeta immediately reaching for some ice from that fruit tureen after Haymitch hit him on their way to the Games in THG (Ch. 4) - their different immediate reactions to getting hit in the face could simply be due to the fact that Katniss is a little too preoccupied worrying about Gale to think about her injury, of course, but I feel like you could also interpret them as examples for how much experience Katniss and Peeta have with being hit in the face, respectively...

Gale must have gone to Cray’s house, as he’s done a hundred times, knowing Cray pays well for a wild turkey. Instead he found the new Head Peacekeeper, a man they heard someone call Romulus Thread. No one knows what happened to Cray. He was buying white liquor in the Hob just this morning [...] but now he’s nowhere to be found. - As I’ve already mentioned regarding Darius, inhabiting some position of power does not guarantee you any safety in Panem (there is always someone more powerful who will treat their inferiors like garbage, if they feel like it)

By the time I showed up, he [Gale]’d been lashed at least forty times. He passed out around thirty. - Jesus 😨 poor Gale!

“What about Darius?” Peeta asks.“ After about twenty lashes, he stepped in, saying that was enough. Only he didn’t do it smart and official, like Purnia did. He grabbed Thread’s arm and Thread hit him in the head with the butt of the whip. Nothing good waiting for him,” says Bristel. - It’s so messed up how it is not enough to have someone who’d stand up and do something about a horrible situation - they have to do it the right way, or else they’re toast; there really shouldn’t have to be a smart way of doing the right thing

Snow begins, thick and wet, making visibility even more difficult. - (President) Snow is coming down hard on them, making it hard to see what’s up ahead

Ever so gently, she [Mrs. Everdeen] begins to clean the mutilated flesh on Gale’s back. I feel sick to the stomach, useless, the remaining snow dripping from my glove into a puddle on the floor. Peeta puts me in a chair and holds a cloth filled with fresh snow to my cheek. - Although she’s quite squeamish, Katniss stays as Gale gets treated (the force that holds the loved ones of the hurt/dying, just like when Peeta was being treated after their Games); meanwhile, Peeta is taking care of Katniss - there is so much care + love to be found in this moment

My mother has to save the strongest [painkillers] for the worst pain, but what is the worst pain? To me, it’s always the pain that is present. If I were in charge, those painkillers would be gone in a day because I have so little ability to watch suffering. - Honestly, same; I can’t stomach seeing other people suffer without feeling overwhelmed and feeling like crying... I don’t know how professionals do it

“Just give him the medicine!” I scream at her. [...] “Take her out,” says my mother. Haymitch and Peeta literally carry me from the room while I shout obscenities at her. They pin me down on a bed in one of the extra bedrooms until I stop fighting. - Oof. Poor Katniss! But yeah, it was the best call to remove her from the situation, Mrs. E. had to focus on what she was doing... Also, Haymitch and Peeta are the ones to get Katniss out of there and stay with her - these three take care of each other!

After a while, my mother comes in and treats my face. Then she holds my hand, stroking my arm, while Haymitch fills her in on what happened with Gale. “So it’s starting again?” she says. “Like before?” - Katniss’s mom has become a much more active and soothing presence in this book, I like it... Also, what does “again” mean? Does this imply there has been an attempted uprising in D12 that needed to be squashed before?

Cray would have been disliked, anyway, because of the uniform he wore, but it was his habit of luring starving young women into his bed for money that made him an object of loathing in the district. In really bad times, the hungriest would gather at his door at nightfall, vying for the chance to earn a few coins to feed their families by selling their bodies. Had I been older when my father died, I might have been among them. - Horrifying and absolutely disgusting 🤢 Those poor women! How desperate they must have been!

... when the doorbell rings, I shoot straight out of bed. [...] “They [the peacekeepers] can’t have him,” I say. “Might be you they’re after,” Haymitch reminds me. “Or you,” I say. “Not my house,” Haymitch points out. “But I’ll get the door.” “No, I’ll get it,” says my mother quietly. - Again, Mrs. Everdeen is taking the initiative! She was so watered down in the movies

[Madge] holds out a small, damp cardboard box to me. “Use these for your friend,” she says. I take off the lid of the box, revealing half a dozen vials of clear liquid. [...] “What is that stuff?” asks Peeta. “It’s from the Capitol. It’s called morphling,” my mother answers. “I didn’t even know Madge knew Gale,” says Peeta. “We used to sell her strawberries,” I say almost angrily. What am I angry about, though? Not that she has brought the medicine, surely. “She must have quite a taste for them,” says Haymitch. That’s what nettles me. It’s the implication that there’s something going on between Gale and Madge. And I don’t like it. “She’s my friend” is all I say. - I mean, Katniss could be mad because A) Gale had literally just told her he loved her a few hours ago and if there was something (reciprocated) going on between Gale and Madge, that would have been pretty shitty for both girls involved and also B) she is friends with both of them and it would be hurtful to learn that two of your closest friends had been seeing each other without telling you anything about it... also, she’s super upset over Gale getting so seriously hurt just after they’d had an argument, her feelings are all over the place

... I’m selfish. I’m a coward. I’m the kind of girl, who, when she might actually be of use, would run to stay alive and leave those who couldn’t follow to suffer and die. This is the girl Gale met in the woods today. No wonder I won the Games. No decent person ever does. You saved Peeta, I think weakly. But now I question even that. I knew good and well that my life back in District 12 would be unlivable if I let that boy die. - Yes, Katniss, you knew that your life back in D12 would have been unlivable if he died - but not because you feared that people would shun you; it was because you “couldn’t lose the boy with the bread” and because “if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really”... This is an excellent example of how distorted your memories can get when you are in a bad headspace at present

The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the Capitol, I am someone of worth. - Katniss, you don’t have to be planning to overthrow a corrupt and cruel government to be someone of worth! You’re someone of worth just by being yourself! - The trouble is, I don’t know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment. - Frankly, very rarely are our motivations clearly defined by a single factor - or my professor would not have been able to teach an entire semester-long course on motivation psychology😉)

Chapter 9

Gale’s dead to the world, but his fingers are locked around mine. I smell fresh bread and turn my stiff neck to find Peeta looking down at me with such a sad expression. I get the sense that he’s been watching us awhile. “Go on up to bed, Katniss. I’ll look after him now,” he says. - Peeta! Must have been hard for him to see Katniss like this (and the underlying strength of Katniss and Gale’s relationship, when his relationship with Katniss is still not all that solidified), and yet he’s being such a good bean about it 😭

I give a strangled cry and wake with a start, sweating and shivering at once. Cradling my damaged cheek in my hand, I remind myself that it was not Clove but Thread who gave me this wound. I wish that Peeta were here to hold me, until I remember I’m not supposed to wish that anymore. I have chosen Gale and the rebellion, and a future with Peeta is the Capitol’s design, not mine. - Katniss, gurl... Maybe your instinctive desire to receive comfort from Peeta is trying to tell you something??!? Also, Katniss is forcing this strange dichotomous association of Gale = rebellion and Peeta = Capitol, when in just a bit, she’s clearly connecting Peeta to the rebellion as well (aside from the fact that Peeta was basically the first person to suggest to her that maybe a rebellion was necessary... just saying)

Fighting the Capitol assures their swift retaliation. I must accept that at any moment I can be arrested. [...] There might be torture. Mutliation. A bullet through the skull in the town square [...] I imagine these things and I’m terrified, but let’s face it: They’ve been lurking in the back of my brain, anyway. [...] I’m already a target. - Oh geez! Despite admitting that she’s terrified of what the Capitol is capable fo doing to her, Katniss is still pretty composed naming the possible horrors in store for her, which is just a heartbreaking reminder of how many terrible things she has already had to endure.🙁

Now comes the harder part. I have to face the fact that my family and friends might share this fate. Prim. I need only to think of Prim and all my resolve disintegrates. It’s my job to protect her. [...] I can’t let the Capitol hurt Prim. - 😭😭😭 Katniss has reached a point where she can put her own need for survival/physical intactness aside, but the thought of something awful happening to Prim stops her short (it’s so strange to think that, in a twisted way, it wasn’t the Capitol who’d ended up inflicting the final harm upon Prim...)

And then it hit’s me. They already have. They have killed her father in those wretched mines. They have sat by as she almost starved to death. [...] She has been hurt far worse than I had at the age of twelve. And even that pales in comparison with Rue’s life. [...] Prim... Rue... aren’t they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated? Yes. This is the thing to remember when fear threatens to swallow me up. What I am about to do, whatever any of us are forced to endure, it is for them. - All these things are very true and it’s also very fitting that the main motivation for Katniss would be to ensure a better future for the children of Panem (and to avenge the evils done to the people close to her heart... while Katniss of course can see the abstract bigger picture/reason for the rebellion, she always operates best when it comes to specific people/circumstances she has a deep, personal connection with)... But also: all these things apply to you, too, Katniss! Despite your tendency to feel responsible for everything and everyone, you’re still a child that had to grow up way too fast and had to endure way too much!

We need someone to direct us and reassure us this is possible. And I don’t think I’m that person. I may have been a catalyst for rebellion, but a leader should be someone with conviction, and I’m barely a convert myself. Someone with unflinching courage, and I’m still working hard at finding mine. Someone with clear and persuasive words, and I’m so easily tongue-tied. Words. I think of words and I think of Peeta. - Katniss’s idea of a great leader for the rebellion is Peeta - interesting, isn’t it (she could have considered Gale, but no)? She makes a good point, though: it helps when a leader has plenty of charisma, and our boy has that in spades; he’s got a good set of morals, is not above joining in on the action/risking his own neck when the need arises and is very genuine and purposeful with his words and actions, which is inspiring... I think Katniss is severely underselling how courageous she is, though

He could move a crowd to action, I bet, if he chose to. Would find the things to say. But I’m sure the idea has never crossed his mind. - Why would you assume that, Katniss? Peeta’s literally the one to suggest to you that trying to placate the district might not be the right thing to do... Peeta’s not someone who’d stir up trouble just for the sake of stirring up trouble, sure; he’s much more deliberate about doing things the ‘right’ way, but he’s not generally opposed to challenging authorities (he’s literally the one to openly gift some of your winnings to another district!)

She knows what she’s doing, my mother. I feel a pang of remorse about yesterday, the awful things I yelled at her as Peeta and Haymitch dragged me from the kitchen. “I’m sorry. About screaming at you yesterday.” - It’s so sweet how Katniss feels sorry for yelling at her mom and apologizes to her; their relationship really has improved so much in this book - “I’ve heard worse,” she says. “You’ve seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain.” Someone they love. [...] Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don’t know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But i’m sure he doesn’t remember it. Does he? I hope not. - Katniss is struggling to figure out in what way she loves Gale... She definitely doesn’t want him to remember their kiss because she knows it wouldn’t be fair to give him the hope that she might be able to return his romantic feelings when she is still in the dark about her own

... and I can’t really think about kissing when I’ve got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. “Where’s Peeta?” I say. - Lol, goes on to immediately mention the guy she’s been kissing these past few weeks (see, with Peeta you could actually have both: kissing and rebellion, Katniss - he’s the perfect man, isn’t he? 😉😋)

“He went home when he heard you stirring. Didn’t want to leave his house unattended during the storm,” says my mother. - Yeah, I don’t think Peeta left because of his house; I’m pretty sure he needed some time to himself after seeing Katniss and Gale this morning - he is the type of person who needs to be alone to work through his feelings when he’s feeling upset - “Did he get back all right?” [...] “Why don’t you give him a call and check?” she says. I go into the study, a room I’ve pretty much avoided since my meeting with President Snow, and dial Peeta’s number. After a few rings he answers. “Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got home,” I say. “Katniss. I live three houses away from you,” he says. “I know, but with the weather and all,” I say. “Well, I’m fine. Thank you for checking.” There’s a long pause. “How’s Gale?” - Aww, Katniss is worried about Peeta and gives him a call, although she hates being in the study 😊 Also, her calling him must have been at least of some reassurance to Peeta that she genuinely cares about him, in some way (though, he’s still clearly busy processing her relationship with Gale, since he’s asking about him as if he hadn’t seen that dude just a couple of minutes prior)

“Have you seen Haymitch today?” “I checked in on him. Dead drunk. But I built up his fire and left him some bread,” he says. “I wanted to talk to - to both of you.” I don’t dare add more, here on my phone, which is surely tapped. - Despite everything, Peeta still made sure to look after Haymitch! And I know, there is also the issue of their houses themselves potentially being bugged, but I couldn’t help imagining how they could easily avoid the whole phone-tapping thing simply by using a tin can telephone (they do live pretty close to each other, after all) 😂

“You don’t even have a phone,” I say. “Effie had that fixed,” he [Haymitch] says. “Do you know she asked me if I’d like to give you away? I told her the sooner the better.” “Haymitch.” I can hear the pleading creeping into my voice. “Katniss.” He mimics my tone. “It won’t work.” - Okay, but Haymitch mimicking Katniss’s tone reminds me so much of when Peeta mimicked her tone towards the end of their Games, when she was trying to persuade him to climb into a tree as a lookout while he was insistent she’d show him some plants to gather; these three, I swear! 😂 On a sad note, Haymitch is talking from experience here when he’s advising Katniss not to challenge the Capitol 🥺😢

Some streets away from the square, I see a blaze flare up. None of us has to say it. That can only be the Hob going up in smoke. I think of Greasy Sae, Ripper, all my friends who make their livings there. - Katniss considers the people from the Hob her friends - honestly, even if the Hawthornes, Everdeens, Peeta and Haymitch all had agreed to leave D12, I don’t think Katniss would have been able to go through with it - she cares too much about the people in D12 to have been able to leave them to their fate

“Well, I better go see how much rubbing alcohol the apothecary can spare.” He [Haymitch] trudges off across the square and I look at Peeta. “What’s he want that for?” Then I realize the answer. “We can’t let him drink it. He’ll kill himself, or at the very least go blind. I’ve got some white liquor put away at home.” “Me, too. Maybe that will hold him until Ripper finds a way to be back in business,” says Peeta. - Another instance of Katniss and Peeta being on the same wavelength, having taken precautions to help out Haymitch so he doesn’t have to go cold turkey again

We find Hazelle in her house, nursing a very sick Posy. I recognize the measles spots. “I couldn’t leave her,” she says. “I knew Gale’d be in the best possible hands.” - The second mention of someone having contracted the measles in D12 - Why the heck does the Capitol withhold measles vaccination from the people in the districts?! They’re inflicting unnecessary damage onto the very people they want to exploit... But I guess cruelty isn’t always about playing it smart and logical...

When we’re outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.” “I’ll go with you,” he says. “No. I’ve dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him. “And avoiding a stroll by the Hob... that’s going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. - They are a team, they stick together (and they are constantly holding hands, always physically linked to each other)😩💕 Also, Peeta pointing out the irrationality of Katniss’s train of thought to calm her down and stay with her reminds me of how he’s going to use logical reasoning to calm her down after the jabberjays in the Quarter Quell arena

We go back to the square. I buy some cakes from Peeta’s father while they exchange small talk about the weather. No one mentions the ugly tools of torture just yards from the front door. The last thing I notice as we leave the square is that I do not recognize even one of the Peacekeepers’ faces. - How weird is it that Peeta and his dad just talk about the weather?! Is this supposed to illustrate how in the Mellark family they just ignored the ugliness going on in their lives *cough cough* the abuse *cough cough* and just pretended that everything was fine, on a very superficial level? Also, it makes perfect sense that the Peacekeepers have been exchanged; the more time we spend with people, the more likely we are to like them - that won’t do if you want to have a ruthless authoritarian police force in the districts

As the days pass, things go from bad to worse. The mines stay shut for two weeks, and by that time half of District 12 is starving. The number of kids signing up for tesserae soars, but they often don’t receive their grain. Food shortages begin, and even those with money come away from stores empty-handed. [...] The eagerly awaited food promised for Parcel Day arrives spoiled and defiled by rodents. - This is just so awful and despicable 😞 Life in the districts was already horrible but now the government does not even honor the extortionary rules they themselves have set up! I can’t help but wonder if the lack of food could be traced back to rebellions in the food supplying districts and, to keep this from the inhabitants of the Capitol, the reduced amount of good food was (obviously) kept for the Capitolites, so that the bad food had to be sent to the districts, anyway... It just seems like such a breach of ‘honor’/etiquette on the Capitol’s part, I dunno... Or maybe Snow was just desperate to use any means necessary to stamp out any potential rebellions in the districts that he still had some control over...

Gale goes home with no more talk of rebellion between us. But I can’t help thinking that everything he sees will only strengthen his resolve to fight back. [...] Rory has signed up for tesserae, something Gale can’t even speak about - Poor, Gale! Poor Hawthornes :(

My fingers have all but decided to release the arrow when I see the object in the glove. It’s a small white circle of flat bread. More of a cracker, really. Gray and soggy around the edges. But an image is clearly stamped in the center of it. It’s my mockingjay. - It is so very telling that the true symbol of the rebellion combines something symbolic of Katniss (which also contains a nod to Rue) and something symbolic of Peeta (the bread/cracker!) The people in the districts have rightfully recognized the both of them as symbol of the rebellion; they have a truer vision of the matter than the more artifically/forcefully constructed symbol of rebellion that D13 /Coin will push - we will also see that when the people in D13 will view Peeta as a traitor, while the rebels Katniss will visit in D8 instead ask her about Peeta and assure her that they know he was speaking under duress

#thgagain #thg #katniss everdeen #hunger games #thg meta #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #gale hawthorne #my sketches and drawings #thg fanart #catching fire

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