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#Katniss was never the call to action in the war—it was Prim
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something about Katniss being a good singer, something about jabberjays and mockingjays, something about her being from the coal district, something about her dad dying in in a mine shaft (and calling her to action to hunt on behalf of her family), something about Prim being selected in the annual reaping (and calling her to sacrifice more than she though she had left to give), something about Katniss being cornered into the role of revolutionary mascot, something about being the number one enemy of the state, something about avoxes having their tongues cut out as punishment
something about Katniss and canaries in coal mines
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septembercfawkes · 7 months
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What is the Inciting Incident? Definition, Purpose, Examples, Tips
The inciting incident is an event that disrupts the established normal and kicks off the main storyline. It will usually appear as an opportunity or a problem (or both) for the protagonist. And even if the protagonist initially refuses it, he must eventually address it.
For example, the inciting incident in The Hobbit is when Gandalf arrives and invites Bilbo on an adventure. It disrupts Bilbo's ordinary life, and while it is presented as an opportunity, Bilbo views that opportunity as a problem (respectable Hobbits don't go on adventures). He refuses the invitation initially, but later accepts it. If it weren't for Gandalf's invitation, the plot in The Hobbit wouldn't have happened.
The purpose of the inciting incident is to start the main plotline.
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The inciting incident is known by a few other names: the "Catalyst" (Save the Cat!), the "Call to Adventure" (The Hero's Journey), and I've also heard it called the "impetus."
Unfortunately--as is somewhat common in the writing community--the term can actually be a little ambiguous, making it difficult to learn about, let alone discern. Not only are there multiple terms for the same event, but there are also disagreements in the community about which event constitutes the "inciting incident." 
So, if you have been confused about this term, I'm not surprised. To minimize confusion, I'll explain the different ways people view the inciting incident, later. For now, the above definition is currently what is generally considered the inciting incident.
Let's break down the inciting incident some more, moving from a basic understanding to an intermediate understanding to an advanced one. I'll go through more examples and even some rule breaks.
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Inciting Incident Basics
The above definition works well for a basic understanding of the inciting incident. When looking at a story (your own or another's), ask yourself: What kicks off the main plot? What initial event allows that plot to start happening?
Commonly, the protagonist will be going about her ordinary life, and something comes along to disrupt it in a way that can't be ignored. Sure, the protagonist may try to ignore it or outright refuse it (like Bilbo), for a while, but for one reason or another, her life can't go back to normal. Either externally something is off, or internally something is off.
In The Hunger Games, we are introduced to Katniss and her current lifestyle as she wakes up, goes hunting, and interacts with others in District 12. The reaping happens every year. But her current lifestyle is disrupted when Effie pulls Prim's name out of the bowl. For Katniss, this is a major problem. If this hadn't happened, she would have never volunteered. Prim's name getting called sets the main plot in motion.
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Intermediate Level
The inciting incident is a medium-sized turning point (also known as a plot turn). It turns the direction of the story.
Specifically, it turns the story into rising action.
Occasionally, you may see this turn depicted in basic story structure:
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This moment is an external turn, meaning, it comes from outside the protagonist--the protagonist is not creating the turn himself.
Gandalf invites Bilbo.
Effie pulls out Prim's name.
In Star Wars IV, Leia's message reveals she needs help.
Occasionally the protagonist may walk unknowingly into the inciting incident. In A Nightmare Before Christmas, Jack Skellington quite literally walks into Christmas Town, but he doesn't know where he is or what he is doing. The experience of Christmas Town happens to him. He isn't going into the town to make things happen.
So the inciting incident is one instance in the story where the protagonist will be acted upon in an important way.
And since this is a turn that disrupts the protagonist's life, it needs to come into contact with the protagonist.
In Mulan, the Huns deciding to invade China isn't the inciting incident, because it doesn't disrupt Mulan's life. Instead, the inciting incident comes when her own father is called to war, which disrupts her current life in a significant way.
Likewise, Princess Leia recording her message isn't the inciting incident. Luke's ordinary life isn't disrupted until he finds the message.
The protagonist is present for the inciting incident.
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Advanced
There are several other moments that often (or may) happen around the inciting incident. This is why there are some arguments and confusion as to what the inciting incident actually is.
First off, a prior event may lead to or prep the inciting incident.
Willy Wonka putting the golden tickets in the chocolate bars can appear to be the inciting incident, but notice it doesn't involve Charlie. It's simply set up for the inciting incident to happen.
After the inciting incident, the character will respond to whatever happened. Often he will try to ignore it, deny it, or outright refuse it. In the Hero's Journey, this is known as the "Refusal of the Call." In Save the Cat! this is known as "Debate."
We talked about an example of this earlier, which is when Bilbo refuses Gandalf's invitation. Another example would be Sulley trying to get rid of Boo right after she appears in Monster's Inc.
While this is a common beat, not all protagonists actually have it. If the protagonist doesn't Refuse the Call, often another character will voice the Refusal, or at least hesitation, instead.
But ultimately, the inciting incident will need to be addressed in the proper way (i.e. in the way that allows the main plot to happen). This will appear as the character choosing to engage in the main conflict, which will often be demonstrated by a strong action, such as Bilbo running out his door to catch up with the dwarves, or Harry Potter leaving with Hagrid.
Frequently, this will hit at the end of Act I, and be Act I's major turning point. The Hero's Journey calls this "Crossing the Threshold" and Save the Cat! calls this "Break into Two." Commonly it is also known as Plot Point 1.
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In any case, this is where some of the ambiguity in the writing community comes in. Some will argue that the inciting incident is the preparatory event, like when Willy Wonka puts the golden tickets in the chocolate bars. Some will say it's the disrupting incident, like when Prim's name gets called. Some will say it's when the character engages in the main conflict, like when Bilbo runs out his door to join the dwarves. And some will even lump part or all of these events together.
It's no surprise that things can get confusing.
This is why it can be helpful to consider Act I's structure . . .
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Structuring Act I
Because of the ambiguity in the writing community, sometimes it's helpful to look at the structure of Act I to gain some clarity.
In most stories, Act I will take up the first quarter (~25%) of the narrative (but there are exceptions and variations.)
Ideally, it will open with a hook.
Often there is some sort of "shake-up" halfway through (~12% into the story).
And there will be a big turning point, a peak, at the end of Act I (~25% in).
Example:
Harry Potter starts with a hook--unusual things are happening all day and culminate in a baby who defeated a dark wizard being left on a doorstep. Halfway through Act I there is a shake-up--a letter arrives addressed to Harry. Near the end, there is a big turn--Hagrid tells Harry he is a wizard, which leads Harry to choose to go with him.
Some feel that the letter's arrival is the inciting incident. Some feel it's Hagrid's announcement. (I originally leaned toward it being Hagrid, and now feel like it's the letter.) But at the end of the day, what's most important is understanding how the pieces work. We have the hook, the shake-up, and the peak.
The letter also gets the story on track to hit Hagrid's announcement, which is a nice touch.
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Placement of the Inciting Incident
With an understanding of how Act I is commonly structured, we can more easily discuss where to place the inciting incident.
Perhaps most commonly, the inciting incident is placed at the shake-up--about halfway through Act I, which is what (arguably) happens in Harry Potter. 
This is a nice place to put it, because the audience has time to get to know the characters and the world and their trajectory, before something comes along to throw everything off balance.
But the inciting incident can also double as the hook. This is what happens in The Hunger Games. Prim's name gets called as early as chapter one.
It can also happen just before (or some may argue, part of) the big turning point, which is what happens in Frozen. Elsa's powers go out of control when with Anna, and right after Elsa freezes the kingdom and runs away.
And even with all of that said, these placements are just guidelines. Place it where it works best for your story.
Get your hook, your shake-up, and your peak--and make sure the inciting incident that kicks off the main plotline is in Act I, and you should be good.
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Multiple Inciting Incidents
A couple of times I've been asked what to do if a story seems to have multiple inciting incidents. Thankfully, this is usually more of an asset than a problem.
First, you may want to check that this isn't a matter of "writing community ambiguity." It may be that these are simply different beats: a moment that preps, the disruption itself, the character's reaction to the disruption, and the character's choice to engage in the main conflict (which leads him or her into the main "journey" of the plot).
If all the events are clearly linked, it's likely they are simply key beats of Act I for the main plotline.
If the events aren't linked on one trajectory, it's likely you have inciting incidents for different plotlines.
When people talk about inciting incidents, they are usually talking about them in regard to the main plotline.
But secondary plotlines can have their own inciting incidents.
For example, if the inciting incident doesn't hit at the shake-up, it's common for an inciting incident of another plotline to hit there, such as the inciting incident of the relationship plotline (which is often the "meet cute.") 
This is what happens in Frozen with Anna and Hans--they have an inciting incident for a relationship. But the main plot doesn't kick off until Elsa loses control of her magic at the coronation, which happens near the end of Act I.
Depending on how your plotlines run through your story, you may have multiple inciting incidents--one for each plotline.
Alternatively, it's also possible to have the same event work as an inciting incident for multiple plotlines, which is arguably what happens in The Prestige. The protagonist's wife drowning kicks off the internal, the external, and the relationship plotlines simultaneously.
In any case, suffice it to say that seeming to have multiple inciting incidents isn't usually something to worry about.
What is a worry is if there is no inciting incident or rather, the inciting incident comes at the wrong time, hurting the pacing of the story.
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Rule Breaks
So far we have mainly gone over what is typical of inciting incidents. Let's go over some variations or rule breaks.
The inciting incident almost always, always happens on page or on screen. It should, because it's such a critical moment in the plot. However, it's not impossible for it to happen off page or off screen.
For example, by general definition, in Knives Out, the inciting incident is when the anonymous letter arrives for Detective Blanc, but notice that happens off screen.
In fact, it practically happened before the story started. If we view Harlan's death as a prologue (acting as a hook), the real story doesn't start until the investigation and questioning are already underway--after the inciting incident happened.
Some argue that the inciting incident can happen before the story officially starts, but it's an unusual situation.
What's interesting in the case of Knives Out is that the audience learns about the inciting incident ~12% in. So even though it technically already happened, it's still placed where the inciting incident often goes, at the shake-up. And it does shake things up, for the audience. Who hired Detective Blanc? We don't know.
Such things are more likely to happen in stories that are structured achronologically (which I plan to talk about in a post someday). Nearly all of Act I of Knives Out is achronological.
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Tips to Keep in Mind
Here are some tips to keep in mind when writing the inciting incident:
Establish what the protagonist's current ("normal") life is like before the inciting incident. The inciting incident is a medium-sized turning point, so think about what you need to convey to the audience to make this particular turn powerful. In order to make Prim's name being called shocking, Collins needed to first establish how unlikely it was for her to be picked and how Katniss was essentially her foster mother.
Usually it's effective to start the character in the opposite state of where he will be by the end of Act I, with the inciting incident acting as the initial disruptor (of course). Jack Skellington should first be bored of Halloween before he discovers Christmas. The turn wouldn't be as powerful if he was satisfied with his role. (It would have been okay. But it would have been weaker.)
Start the story with the protagonist already on a specific trajectory. Convey what direction the character's life is meant to go if it continues its current path. Then, when the inciting incident disrupts it and sends it on a new trajectory, it will be more impactful.
If the inciting incident is viewed as a problem, it's often great to first pull the protagonist high--on an upward trajectory. In Legally Blonde, Elle thinks Warner is going to propose to her, so the inciting incident, the problem, of getting dumped hits harder.
Likewise, if the inciting incident is viewed as an opportunity, it's often great to first pull the protagonist low--on a downward trajectory. 
Because the inciting incident is a disruptor, almost always it should be something the protagonist didn't foresee. She may think she knows what's going to happen (like Elle), but it ends up being different.
Since this is a critical turn in the story, make sure it happens on page (unless you have a good reason for a rule break). It should almost always be dramatized, in a scene, not summary. You may want to bump up the prose for it.
Get your protagonist's reaction to it on page, too. His reaction is a great opportunity to convey his character--whether it's brief or it takes several chapters. 
The protagonist almost always voices hesitation in his reaction. If he doesn't, then usually another character will instead. The purpose of this beat is to emphasize the stakes, the seriousness of this new trajectory.
Now, with all that said, there is always room for variation, so choose what works best for your story. 
The inciting incident is usually one of the first scenes that comes to mind when brainstorming a book, so have fun with it!
Related Articles
The Hero's Journey Explained: The Beginning
The Steadfast, Flat-arc Protagonist in Story: The Beginning
Save the Cat! Explained: The Beginning
Story Structure Explained: Prologues, Hooks, Setups, Inciting Incidents
Structuring Your Relationship Plotline: Key Beats
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moonknightstarrs · 3 months
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There’s something about the hunger games series that I find really interesting. The something I’m referring to is Gale. Specifically his fate.
So often I see people say ‘Gale die’ (which I myself have said) or ‘he should have died instead of Finnick’. Yes I would have loved for Finnick to survive more than anything. And if THG needed a death of a main character then Gale would have been my automatic choice.
But-
There’s something so satisfying about Katniss choosing to never see Gale again. ‘Goodbye Gale’ feels so much more powerful and good. Because we know Katniss Everdeen. If Gale had died she would have felt so much guilt it would have been unbearable. Even after knowing what Gale did. He was still her closest thing to a friend when she was young. He helped her survive after her Dad was killed. If he died she would still miss him and she would blame herself for it. Because she’s still a young adult going through trauma and war and human beings tend to turn those negative feelings and thoughts towards themselves.
So her choosing to never see Gale is a slap in the face to him. Which I find beautiful. If he died, he’d never feel the guilt of killing all of those people, those children, the guilt of killing Prim. He wouldn’t have known what happened. He’d never pay for the way he treated Katniss and Peeta. But now- now he has to live with the fact that he killed his closest friend’s (/girlfriend’s) sister. The one thing in life she loved more than anything. The person she loved more than the world. He has to live with the fact that Katniss hates him, that he disgusts her, that he reminds her of the very evil they tried to destroy and she never wants to see him again.
Call me horrible or cruel for liking that but honestly Gale deserves what he got. I’m not saying he should be tortured to death but I just think death would have been a little too fast to justify his actions and behaviour.
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everlarkficexchange · 3 years
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Magic as Always
Written by: @alliswell21
Prompt 71: Magic of Ordinary Days AU: 1940s, Katniss is a single pregnant girl. Desperate for her daughter not to have a child out of wedlock, Mrs Everdeen contacts a priest who in turn knows a young man who just may be willing to help. Sweet, kind and shy Peeta stayed home to take care of the family farm when his beloved brother went to war to never come back. He’s always wanted a family but rural small town life gives little chance to court. He hears of Katniss’ plight and graciously offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. He does everything he can think of to make a home for Katniss and the baby. How does Katniss take it? How does their relationship develop? Will they fall in love? [submitted by anonymous]
Rating: this chapter is rated Teens and Up  
Tags: Historical!AU; WWII; 1940’s Era views on marriage, sexism, pregnancy, etc; Katniss/Marvel relationship; Non-graphic Unprotected Sex; Unplanned Pregnancy; Arrange Marriage; Miscellaneous Religious views; Grief/Mourning; Canon Characters Death; OOC!Mrs.Everdeen; Somewhat OOC!Katniss; Everlark is Endgame; Other tags to be added.
Notes: Thank you Anon for this prompt. I must confess, I’ve never seen the movie ‘The Magic of Ordinary Days’ or read the book the movie is based on. I did a quick skimming on the plot of the movie and then dug up all kinds of reviews on the book, most of my plot points come from a combination of movie and book (which apparently differ only in a few parts), besides what the prompter asked for. I just really loved this prompt, and see the potential of this story, which will be a few chapters long, cross posted to AO3 and I already have a good chunk written ;) The rating will be adjusted too, because there will be explicit Everlark smut in the following chapters. Anon, I hope I don’t disappoint you, this story will be only loosely based on the source material, and adapted to fit THG characters in the narrative, I will try to stick to the main plot points as much as I can, but I’m also taking several liberties with the story. I hope you still like it though. 
KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP
Prim died on a Tuesday, after a very long, strenuous battle with poliomyelitis. My sweet little sister’s face looked as fresh as a dew drop even in death. 
  “Come now, Katniss,” my mother calls from the open door of the mortuary hall, where visitation took place an hour ago. 
  The mortician has arranged for the coffin to be taken to the cemetery and put in the ground this afternoon. There will be no graveside mourning. It’s all we could pay for, but then again the war has left everyone penniless nowadays.
  A big, rotund man comes to close the coffin, and offers a curt nod. 
  That’s it then. The very last time I’ll ever set eyes on Primrose’s sweet face. 
  “Katniss,” Mother whispers, insistently. It’s probably all she can muster before breaking down in tears.
  I look on at the box my sister’s body lies in, numb and heartsick. I bring my 3 middle fingers to my lips and then rise them in the air. My last salute to my beloved Little Duck. I step away from the coffin and shuffle towards mother. 
  Up close, I can see the deep, dark bruises under my mother’s eyes. She used to be beautiful in her youth— according to friends and old photographs— but now she just looks tired and defeated. I guess having to bury first her husband and then her 15 year old daughter, in less than a year, would have that effect on anyone.
  Prim would’ve looked like our mother, with their soft blonde locks, almond shaped blue eyes and alabaster skin. She had a softer spirit though, she enjoyed music and loved animals. She always said that if she was older, she would’ve joined the Red Cross and signed up to serve as a nurse to our boys in the Pacific, like Father did… Father wasn’t a nurse though, he was a chaplain. 
  It’s funny to think that I inherited so much of my father, like my dark hair, gray eyes and olive skin. We both also share the same aversion to human pain and blood that moves my mother and Prim to action; but unlike Prim, my father’s calling to help the soldiers in their worst situations, passed me and went directly to my baby sister. 
  I sigh… Prim would’ve made a terrific army nurse, if only she hadn’t wasted in bed with that odious disease! If she had been given the chance to live, I’m sure Prim would’ve had so many boys trailing after her. She would marry at some point and have a beautiful full life. 
  I don’t plan on marrying and having a family. If the acute pain in my own chest wasn’t enough warning,  watching my mother walk silently from the funeral home to our apartment, with her head bowed and listening to her quiet sobs at night would be enough evidence that there’s too much sorrow in losing one’s husband and children. 
  I think my efforts will be better spent in cultivating my mind, and getting my degree in botany, like my father always dreamed, anyway… plus, I’m not much of a looker… not like Prim at any rate. 
  We finally arrived at our modest home. Mother drifts ghost-like into the door, and then we both shuffle quietly into our separate bedrooms. There won’t be a meal at the table tonight, but I make sure Prim’s old tomcat gets fed and watered, and after he meows in distress at my sister’s door, I open mine, and let him strut inside my bedroom and hop into my bed. The hideous fur ball and I distrust each other, but he understands his mistress is never coming back, and he’s the last thing I have from her… so he lets me pet him and he cuddles close to my chest as I fall asleep, crying. 
——————————-
Mother and I walk slowly through the busy streets of town, mostly ignoring the bustle and disarray around us. People shout, cars honk horns, a baby cries in the distance, and the few young men rush back and forth in the busy sidewalks, like they’re being lashed by invisible whips.
  “We should stop by the grocer and see if we can pick up some eggs.” Says my mother, pulling her “Sugar Book” out of her handbag. 
  Because of the war, everything is being rationed, from sugar to shoes.
  I could care less about food and clothing, though. But I still go into the shop, dutifully. 
  I’m so immersed in my own thoughts, I don’t see the lanky man walking towards me with his arms full of vittles. 
  We collide. The man’s groceries fly up in every direction, raining over me, as I sit on my rump on the floor. 
  My mother is nowhere to be seen. Typical.
  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Says the man, pulling a packet of oatmeal from the floor, while extending his other hand to help me up. 
  “No… it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
  “Well, let’s agree that we’re both klutzes, and leave it at that?” The man offers.
  I’m on my feet, dusting my skirt off and righting my blouse, “Sure, let’s do that.” I scowl at the skew state of my clothes and finally look up at the man. 
  He’s smiling down at me, and I must admit, his smile is dazzling. He’s got short brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles over his nose. He also towers above me. 
  “My stars! If it isn’t Katniss Everdeen!” The young man says, unexpectedly excited.
  I blink owlishly at him, and try to place his face, but I’m horrible at remembering people. Or their names. 
  “Marvel Quaid,” he offers genially, unfazed by my lack of response, “we went to grade school together?” He prompts, “My pa used to sell luxury goods in District One?”
  “Oh, I think it’s coming back now,” I say smiling for the first time in what feels like months. “You used to throw sticks, pretending they were spears or something,” I tell him, showing that indeed, I do remember him.
  Marvel scrunches his nose, “Javelins, actually. I was pretending I threw javelins. I saw a fellow doing it for the Olympics in a film, and then he won a medal for it. I thought to myself that making a victory lap with the good old American flag flapping after oneself looked like fun; well, I wanted to be a victor too!” He chuckles, then deflates. “But as everything, those dreams are gone now, crushed to dust under the weight of the war.”
  As is the norm, once the war gets brought up, gloominess settles on, dampening the cheeriest of spirits.
  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m all too familiar with the sentiment.”
  Marvel nods, grimly. 
  “We lost Father in France.” I’m not sure why I said it. “We put my sister in the ground last week, too.” I avert my eyes. 
  “Aww, geez, Kit… that’s truly awful. I’m so sorry for your loss,”
  I’m mildly surprised I don’t immediately recoil at his little pet name. I guess the fact that he doesn’t sound condescending while delivering his condolences, helps. 
  “Oh, well, as my father would’ve said, at least their toils in this world are over. They can finally rest in peace.”
  After a moment of heavy silence, Marvel shares, “I’m being shipped out tomorrow morning.”
�� I scowl, “Oh,” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering how he’d manage to evade the draft for this long? Marvel is my age, 19 going on 20… boys get sent to the front lines at 18. “I… I could write to you… if you wanted?” I offer shyly. 
  Isn’t that what young women are being told to do, in order to keep our boys’ morale from plummeting?  
  Marvel grins, showing slightly crooked teeth, “That would be swell, Kit!” He stares at me for a long moment, then sighs, “I should go back to my shopping, before they miss me at home. Lord knows when will I have the chance of doing something as mundane as picking up my mother’s weekly grocery allowance.”
  These days it is not only uncommon seeing men doing grocery runs, but simply seeing young, able-body men around, period. All of our boys are either in Europe or the Pacific, fighting to keep the devastation of the World war from reaching our shores.
  “Well, for what is worth, I hope you get to return home safely… you know, so you can do all the boring tasks your mother tells you to do. And when I say safe, I mean, I hope you don’t run anymore into spaced out girls, like me,” I smirk. 
  “Oh, Kit, if only you knew how much I’ve enjoyed our accidental skirmish. It’s like a gift from above, seeing you after all these years. Your smile and the color of your eyes will forever be branded in my mind, to give me a reason to fight. To have a dream,”
  I’m momentarily floored by Marvel’s florid little speech. Nobody has ever said anything nearly as sweet and gallant as that to me, and for a moment, I forget all about my dead sister and father, the war, and my own sorrow. 
  I avert my eyes, bashfully, as he finishes picking up his vittles off the floor.
  “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I lean over to pick up a can of milk, and put it on top of his pile. 
  “I only speak the truth,” he smiles brightly. 
  My mother chooses to interrupt at the exact moment I bat my lashes at him, “Katniss, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you by the counter.” She shakes her head. 
  Marvel wobbles on his feet, rearranging his load, and then greets my mother, warmly, “Mrs. Everdeen, how nice to see you again,” 
  My mother eyes him, unimpressed. “Good afternoon, young man,” she answers. 
  “Ma’am… pardon my forwardness, but, would it be too troublesome to ask Miss Katniss to accompany a soldier about to be shipped out, to supper in the town?” 
  My mother narrows her eyes, distrust dripping from her voice as she speaks, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. My daughter and I are in mourning, you see,”
  “Oh, this won’t be an untoward celebration of any kind, ma’am. With the war raging on, we’re all in mourning. All I ask for is one last night of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with an old grade-school mate,” he smiles, hopefully, “For old times sake?” 
  I’m watching my mother’s face closely, with bated breath.
  “Very well,” Mother sighs, “You may ask Katniss out to dinner. But have her home by 9 sharp!”  
  I don’t hesitate to step up and give him directions to my apartment building in District 12. 
  I spend the rest of my day giddy and nervous, pressing my best Sunday suit, the gray one with the matching jacket, and polishing my only pair of leather shoes. There isn’t much I can do about my hair… the thing can’t be fashioned into the favored waves, not even putting it in curlers overnight, so I let it be. 
  I briefly wonder if this was all Prim’s doing? Meeting Marvel and mother’s somewhat easy aquiciscent. Prim hated seeing me sad, and constantly talked about how she’d love to help me get ready for dates with a beau. She couldn’t wait to be of courting age and date a strapping, young man herself… but of course, that would never happen for her, but she would probably still want to see me have those things. 
  Maybe Marvel is right, and our serendipitous encounter is a gift from above, to heal our wounds… at least for the night. 
  ————————-
  Marvel arrives at my house in his father’s car at 5:45. Riding is now such a luxury, with gasoline being rationed and all. He takes me to a quaint little dinner in the middle of town. We share malts, a greasy burger, and a small portion of fries and onion rings. 
  We talk about baseball:
  “You’d look good in a baseball uniform, Kit! Can you still run as fast as you did in school?” 
  I laugh. “I’m not much for sports,” I demure, “but I’ve heard playing in one of the new teams pays alright. Anyway, I’m gonna be starting my second year of college soon. I put my studies on hold while Prim was at her worst, but now that it’s only just me and mother… I’m anxious to go back to study.”
  “Wow, beautiful and smart!”
  We talk about cars:
  “I loved driving… but Mother sold our car when my sister took a turn for the worse. She didn’t want to at first, saying that Father saved up to buy it, and it held sentimental value to her, but I had to push to sell it. We needed the money and gas was a nightmare to come by, anyway,”
  “The only reason we still have ours,” says Marvel, “is because Pa is too stubborn to let go of the things that still made him feel wealthy.” He scowls, “He’s trying to get into the ice business now, since it’s pretty much the only thing one where the raw material is plenty and relatively cheap, and there’s guarantee that people will buy the product… everyone still needs ice for their ice boxes, right?” 
  No one can afford luxuries anymore with every penny going out to support our boys in the battlefields.
  We talk about many other subjects: his sister’s wedding; my father’s unit getting pinned and killed by Germans… We didn’t get a body to bury, but I got a medal on his behalf as his eldest child. 
  Marvel lets me sniffle against his chest, and then kisses my lips slowly. 
  I’ve never been kissed on the lips, and I feel my face heat up. 
  “Would you… like to take a drive with me, Kit?”
  We drive all the way to the city limit. It’s exhilarating to be in a car again, and sitting at the overlook, at twilight,  alone with a handsome boy, feels positively forbidden! 
  I’ve never done anything remotely injudicious all my life, and this whole moment feels… magical… exciting! 
  Tentatively, I initiated our next kiss, but he takes over in a rush of caresses and flitting touches. 
  “Beautiful, graceful, Kit. You have no match!”
  “Marvel…” I kiss him again, not knowing how to answer his sentiments with words.
  His hands are restless, groping my shoulders and elbows. “I wished he had more time! I would’ve loved to marry you before departing. I would’ve show you so much passion and love!”
  “You still can show me, Marvel… you absolutely can!” 
  It’s all the permission he needs to dive into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop until the deed is done, and we’re a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs in the back seat of the car, only partially clothed. 
  A deep feeling of lethargy pours over me. My muscles are sore and heavy, and wished I could fall asleep in here. 
  “I intend on coming back to marry you, Katniss,” Marvel says, stretching his lanky, long legs to zip up his pants. 
  I sit up and start finger-combing my ruined hair, hoping my mother won’t notice the strands are extra frizzy. “Um… I guess we should after this,” I say shyly, gesturing between us. 
  “You could still go to college while I’m away,” he offers with magnanimity.
  “You… wouldn’t mind that?” I ask incredulous, college women are so rare, unless they’re trying to become nurses or teachers. Most girls start courting right after high school and get married in the span of one to two years, and their husbands don’t normally encourage an education beyond what their wives came into the marriage with; so to hear Marvel say that wouldn’t mi d me stay in college is just about the greatest thing possible!
  “My darling, Kit, I don’t want you to be one of those girls pining and wasting away for her beau. I’ll be busy at war, it’ll be unfair to keep you from occupying your own time while you wait fir my return. Go to college, my clever girl!”
  I smile indulgently at him, leaning closer to slip his necktie around the collar of his shirt, “You are truly a generous, loving man,” I say.
  Marvel beams, circling my waist with his arms pulling me against his body. “It’s all inspired by you, sugar plum!”
  I giggle, kissing his cheek, “I’ll write to you every day!” I promise. 
  “That’s nice… but just so you know, I might not be able to write back right away. It’ll be a while before I get settled enough to write. But you’ll be in my thoughts every minute of every day, and that’s the honest truth! I’m serious about marrying you when I return, Kit,” he kisses me again. And then, he looks at his watch, sighing. “It’s 8:32. We should get on going, gotta keep in my future mother-in-law’s good graces!” 
  We share a carefree laugh, and finish tidying ourselves up to drive back to my house. 
  He walks me to the door, takes me in his arms, and kisses me passionately before promising he’d be back to officially ask for my hand in marriage, and for my part, I swear I’ll write to him every day until he returns home safe and sound. 
  But neither of us keeps our promises in the end, although I tried. 
  ————————-
  Three weeks go by and I keep my word of writing daily letters. I receive no word in return from Marvel, but think nothing of it… Europe is far and traveling by sea is tedious and time consuming; Marvel will get in touch once he’s settled down. 
  Another week goes by, still without news from my would-be fiancé. I still don’t worry. I’ve been busy with university, and the few other girls attending school with me keep me busy, but my heavier workload is starting to get to me.
  I’m usually so tired and moody after school that socializing with my classmates becomes a chore. I barely eat supper before I’m passing out in bed, and my letters to Marvel start to get shorter and simpler with every passing day.
  I skip writing one afternoon altogether, and take a long nap. Buttercup— Prim’s ugly cat— perches on my bed like a sentinel to watch me sleep. I believe he’s worried about me… stupid, clingy cat thinks I’m sick.
  But the feline’s intuition proves right, because just two days later, I shoot out of bed and run into the washroom to spill every last ounce of last night supper into the toilet. I must’ve caught a bug or something! 
  I feel queasy and lightheaded every morning after. My appetite wanes and it seems my delicate stomach can only tolerate pears, and broth. 
  I visit the post office to place out my letters to Marvel almost everyday; Every time I come, the nice old mailman comments on how sweet it is to see all the young-uns holding romance strong. Marvel has yet to respond to one of my letters, so I just smile tightly and demure. 
  I’ve been thinking though; the longer I go without news of my supposed future husband, and despite the whirlwind night of romance with him, I start questioning my actions, my promises. I never wanted to marry before, and suddenly I was okay getting a hasty, unofficial engagement with a virtual stranger, I barely remember from grade school… maybe it’s better if Marvel never writes. 
  My plans on earning a college degree and finding a well paying job will go unencumbered— I’m aware women in prominent working professions are as rare as snow in July, but women’s presence in the working forces keep growing as industries need laborers to keep up producing while the men fight in the war. Educated women are almost becoming less rare. 
  At the two month mark since I last saw Marvel, I become weepier than usual… is to be expected in my opinion; Prim’s been gone for a little over two months and she was the only person I knew I loved. But now I’m worrying about my health on top of everything.
  One morning, while I’m kneeling on the cold, hard floor in front of the toilet, feeling miserable and tired, my mother calls my name from the open door.
  “Katniss, I think it’s time to get a test.” She states evenly, and then enters the room to fetch a damp washcloth to wipe my face clean. “I hope I’m wrong, but I’m afraid you may be with child,” she sighs. 
  I squirm. “No,” I gasp. “I— I can’t be with child. I just can’t!” But the thought has crossed my mind a few times already. “It’s not supposed to be this way!”
  “I know, child,” My mother pats my head, “there’s only one way to know. Get dressed for the day, I will call the most discreet physician I know, and have him pay us a visit.” 
  ————————-
  Doctor Aurelius— a physician my mother has helped deliver babies and treat maladies with— confirms the pregnancy with a grim face. 
  I sit at my kitchen table numb and despondent. My mother writes a check to the doctor for his services, while talking in no so hush tones in the other room. I listen to their whole conversation, as if submerged in water.
  “I blame myself for this, doctor. I should have kept a closer eye on her,” 
  “Don’t blame yourself Ms. Everdeen, it’s that war business bringing out all sorts of evil into the world! It’s unfortunate the rise of these cases in our community. Young ladies— from good families!— engaging in acts ought to be saved for marriage. Youth do things without thinking, guided by fear. Our boys fear they may not return from that senseless, awful war, and settle down properly, and I don’t blame them one little bit.”
  “The only solace I have right now, is that my poor husband is not here to see the shame that’s fallen over our family,”
  “I understand the sentiment, ma’am. There’s no telling how Preacher Everdeen would’ve taken this blow. But I’m sure things will work out as soon as young Katniss hears from the father…” 
  I dissolve into silent tears then. My mother escorts the doctor to the door and then there��s silence. 
  My pinky finger curls into the soft fabric of the table cloth, and I try to ignore the urge to vomit boiling in my stomach. There’s one thought circling mi mind: my college days are over.
  ——————————-
“Ah! Miss Everdeen, I have something for you.” Says the mailman as soon as I reach the desk. He smiles, but rather sadly, like he’s about to give me bad news. 
  I’ve come to the post office with urgent letters every day for 6 days, and he’s never looked at me this way. 
  The old man digs around for a moment and almost reluctantly, passes a parcel tied up in twine. An envelope is attached to the top of the parcel, and with a sinking feeling, I realized it’s a stack of my own letters. 
  “It came in today, miss.” Says the man, voice laced with pity. “Sorry for your loss.” He says. 
  At first I don’t understand what he could possibly mean by that; he’s offered his sympathies fir my dead father and sister already; it makes absolutely no sense to repeat himself randomly after so long. 
  Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. 
  I gasp, and press the parcel to my chest. “Oh no! Marvel!” I whisper. I give the man a hasty wave, thanking him, and rush out of the post office like mad. 
  Tears run down my cheeks, while I dash home, imagining the worst. “Poor, Marvel!” Is all I can think.
  “Katniss, what’s wrong?” My mother calls, alarmed, when I rush to my bedroom, sobbing. She follows me in, and watches me tear into the envelope at the top of the stack. 
  I frown in confusion when I’m met with handwritten, chicken-scratch scrawl, instead of a formal missive typed in official US military stationary. 
  My scowl deepens as my eyes rove over the flowery vocabulary, and then I screech, “What?!” 
  “Katniss, what’s going on?” 
  I ignore my mother when she approaches to read over my shoulder; I step around her, shaking the piece of paper in my hands and stand by the window, as if sunlight will make the words change their meaning.
  I smooth the creases and folds on the page over, and read out loud, “Dearest Kit, sorry it took so long to write, it’s been a wild time since we arrived and finding time to correspond with everyone back home it’s been hard.
  “At times, your letters have been the sole source of light and hope in the darkness of this conflict. Is for that reason, and with a heavy heart, that I must come clean to you now. I truly meant it when I swore to come back and make you my wife, but as the Good Book says, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and love has sprouted out the most unlikely place! Kit, I’ve fallen in love and married a lovely gal here in England…”
  I stop reading. He goes on talking about the why and how, but I sincerely don’t care. 
  “That good for nothing, virtue dasher, future crushing… liar!” My mother bleats to the ceiling, raising her palms over her head, dramatically. 
  I’m angry too, of course. I feel used and disposed of like a dirty rag, but my mother’s reaction is borderline hilarious. Except, it isn’t. 
  I’m pregnant, unmarried, and soon— once my still flat stomach starts rounding— I’ll be socially ostracized for my condition. My only saving grace was the promise of marriage that bastard Marvel had given me. But that’s gone now. 
  “I knew that boy was bad news the second I laid eyes on him! He never even introduced himself to me, the little weasel! This is my fault. My fault! I should’ve never allowed you to run amok with the likes of him…”
  “Mother, will you please?” I nearly growl, gesturing at the open bedroom door.
  She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, before pursing her lips in disapproval, and stalking out of the room muttering her aggravation under her breath. 
  I sink into my bed with Marvel’s stupid letter crumpling in my fist. A single, hot, angry tear rolls down my face, and for the first time since finding out of its existence, I hug my midsection and address my child, “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I know you didn’t ask for a mother like me, but I’m all you got now, little one. I promise we will be alright… I’ll try not to let you down.”
  ———————-
  My mother has been unbearable for the last two days. She cries in her room worse than when Prim died, and when she sees me, she starts lamenting my poor choice, like I’m not even standing there… as if I don’t feel discouraged enough. 
  I keep myself busy with my education. I will need to earn this diploma now more than ever before, and I need to do as much as I can before the baby arrives and my studies get put on hold. 
  In the meantime, I scout the newspapers for possible work options to sustain me and my mother. Our savings keep diminishing and the small stipend my mother got from the Army since my father passed away is becoming more insufficient by the day. 
  There’s a knock on the front door, and I push out my chair unhappy by the interruption. 
  “Afternoon Miss Katniss! Would you let your mother know she’s got a telephone call down in the lobby?” Says the building’s doorkeeper. 
  “Of course, thank you. She’ll be right down!”
  Telephones are yet another luxury we had to give up when moved to this small place after losing my father. 
  I go back to my job hunt, and my mother descends to the lobby, quickly. 
  She returns after only 10 minutes, almost running through the door, excitedly calling my name. Tears wet her face, but her smile is so blinding, even without knowing what sort of news she’s heard to cause her such joy, I stand from the table with nervous anticipation. 
  “Oh, Katniss! Katniss my dear daughter, you’re saved!” She exclaims, hugging me tightly. 
  I’m confused. I step away from her embrace, “What do you mean?” 
  “It’s the best thing possible ever, I tell you! The Lord has answered all of my prayers!”
  “This is all so exciting and all, mother, but… could you please share this great news already?” 
  My mother cups my face in her hands, and beams at me, “You need to pack your things, darling! Your father’s good friend, Reverend Undersee, has found a husband, and you are to wed, in three days time!”
  —————————
Reverend Undersee and his daughter, Madge, meet me and my mother at the rinky dink bus station, in the equally tiny town my mother has banished me to.
  “Katniss! How long has it been?” Says Madge, hugging me enthusiastically.
  I bite my tongue to keep the acidic retort of “not long enough!” to leave my mouth. 
  “Welcome to Panem,” says the reverend, soberly, shaking my mother’s hand in greeting.
  “Thank you, revered. We appreciate your hospitality and your understanding,” my mother responds, then gives me a pointed look and a wordless command. 
  I nod and mutter, “Thank you, sir. Madge,” 
  I scowl at a crack in the pavement, not feeling an iota of gratefulness for this charade! 
  Any man agreeing to this questionable union has to either be desperate, or be hiding terrible, ulterior motives to go along with all of this. Nobody in their right mind would willingly marry a girl pregnant with another man’s baby, and be happy about it… unless that’s the reason! 
  I shudder at the thought. 
  But it is a very real possibility that my intended is a simpleton, who can’t find a wife otherwise… or worse! It could be a man very advanced in age, looking for a supple, young body to leech off. Gross!
  My mother had been too excited about the news that a man offered to marry me (as if I asked for, or even wanted a husband!) to bother to ask his name. 
  Reverend Undersee coughs daintily, clears his throat, and starts, like he’s giving a lecture at the university. “It is our Christian duty to lend a helping hand to widows and orphans in their time of needs. Same way it’s our duty to keep the memory and honor of an old friend from being dragged into the mud.”
  I wince at the harsh words, and let my face fall lower, if that’s even possible. 
  “Well, it’s a good thing that we are all recipients of the abundant grace of the Lord, which covers multitude of faults, and it’s never hard to reach,” a deep, velvety, masculine voice cuts into my embarrassment. 
  I lift my eyes from the ground, to find a man striding confidently in our direction. He smiles kindly at me, his eyes fixed on my own, like I’m the only person still standing in the station.
  He finally cedes our staring contest, to take in the rest of the group.
  A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, because I recognize him from years past when my family used to visit this town, and I’m afraid I know exactly why he’s here. 
  “Good afternoon, all. I apologize for my tardiness, I had a last second detail to take care of before leaving the house,” he nods in our general direction, taking his hat off; a riot of ashy blonde curls falls onto his forehead, before bending forward to shake my mother’s hand, “I’m Peeta Mellark, at your service, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 
  “Likewise, mister Mellark,” says my mother, her lips twitch tersely, “Widow Everdeen, and this here is my daughter Katniss… your bride.” 
  Peeta Mellark’s baby blue eyes slip back to mine, and the left side corner of lips curls into a shy, earnest smile. “Welcome to Panem, Katniss, I’ll sure do my best, so you’d like it here.”
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Whatever Day it is Today Stumped Day 36
It’s another Sunday ?? Stumped Day!
Sometimes we straight out get stumped. So every few months we will pick a Sunday when we’ll post of a list of asks that we need your help on.
In this round, we are focusing on asks for specific stories.   If your ask for a more general “type of” story is not included, it does not mean we are ignoring it, it just means we need more time to research and answer these asks.
If  you know the answer to any of these asks please shoot us a message/  ask/  with the Post number and the fic details and we’ll add it and give you a shout out with our thanks.  Any links you can provide will also be super helpful.
Thanks!
Post 1 , Post 2 , Post 3, Post 4, Post 5, Post 6, Post 7, Post 8, Post 9, Post 10, Post 11, Post 12, Post 13, Post 14, Post 15, Post 16, Post 17, Post 18, Post 19, Post 20, Post 21, Post 22 , Post 23, Post 24, Post 25, Post 26,  Post 27, Post 28, Post 29 , Post 30, Post 31, Post 32, Post 33, Post 34 and Post 35 can be found here - and there are still fics we need your help with.
597. weepingmilkshakesandwich asked:there's a fic that I can't find where Peeta takes Katniss to the lake and Effie gives Katniss a bikini that becomes transparent in the water, but Katniss has no idea. Could you help me find it?
598. weepingmilkshakesandwich asked:any where k and p go to the hob and sae makes fun of them?
599. eversnarkly asked:Hey! I was wondering if you could help me find this story that focuses on Katniss only dating older guys and eventually dating Peeta's older brother, until she discovers that he's immature and then gets with Peeta, who's her age. I think it was posted on tumblr as a one-shot and also features Rue as her friend. Rue's brother is Thresh, who's older and dated Katniss in the past. Thanks!
FOUND! Closing the (Age) Gap - Savvylark (Thank you, @daydreamsandcaffeine!)
600. alwayseverlark asked:Hello!! As always thanks so much for your work! This is the best blog ever!!I am looking for a AU- modern setting, where Katniss returns to her town and Peeta is going to marry Delly, but Katniss still loves Peeta (I’m not sure if she never told him or broke with him), they have a conversation in the back door of the bakery (they are sit down on the stairs)Does it ring a bell?
601. myminemind asked:Hi! I was wondering if you'd help me find an everlark fic I think it's in ff . net where katniss and peeta's daughter was attacked when she played in the woods..? I think the daughter's name is Grace but I might mix it up with other fanfic I read.. it's been a long time but I'd love to rediscover it if possible thank you so much for all that you do!! :)
602. crazedfangirlofmanythings asked:Hi, Hi yall! Been a bit but I'm lost. I'm not sure we're i read it, but its where Katniss and Gale go out into the woods. The have to keep away and Peeta is taken in the Capitol. She finds out she's pregnant and has to lie to the world that its Peeta even thought she doesn't love him. Anyone got ideas? It's killing me!
FOUND! Could this be Spectator by FanficAllergy? (Thank you, @rosefyrefyre!)
603. acromioclavicular3 asked:Hi! I think I left an ask of this before but I kinda remember some more details.I was looking for this smutty fic where Katniss and Peeta are having dinner, possibly celebrating an anniversary or a birthday. Katniss gets jealous at a waitress.They go home. Katniss is upset and in their bedroom Peeta asks why. She reveals that it's because Peeta was giving the waitress a smile that was hers, that was only meant for Katniss. As they begin to undress Peeta reaizes Katniss isn't wearing anything underneath the dress the whole time.Peeta proceeds to make it up to Katniss by seductively removing her clothes for her and touching her slowly saying things like "these eyes are yours" as he looks at her, "these hands are yours" as he dips his fingers between her legs....Basically Peeta saying that everything he is is "yours"  to Katniss.I thank you in advance!
604. stupidsatsuma asked:Hello! The fic I’m looking for is one that, if I recall correctly, was an angsty story with a happy ending.  Pretty sure it’s a neighbors style AU, but one where Peeta is slightly older. Katniss always wanted him to be her first, but then he goes off to college and I think she ends up asking another one of their friends (maybe Finnick??) to be her first. I can’t remember if she follows through with this other guy or not, but I am sure it was everlark endgame (because of course!) it just was a bit of a trip to get there. Maybe I overlooked it on one of the master lists, or maybe I’m even getting my fandoms mixed up? (Entirely possible, there are so many to keep track of...) Either way, thanks in advance and have a great day!
605. allflowerscatchthesunlight asked:Hey! I’m looking for a fic that was on ffnet. Katniss gets pregnant with peetas baby between catching fire and mockingjay. Peeta I think was captured then returned. When the baby is born and after the war when they’re in district twelve katniss becomes distant and lives alone in her victors house. Peeta ends up taking care of the toddler girl. Katniss slowly rebuilds her relationship with them both. Really sad :(
606. sweetjentlehome asked:hey! im looking for this fic: it is about gale’s pov watching peeta comfort katniss after a nightmare at night. there’s no dialogue between katniss and peeta as gale cannot hear them, and i also remember that it was like snowing so peeta wraps his scarf around katniss neck and the next morning in the everdeen home prim comments on the scarf. im so sorry this sounds so confusing
FOUND! Gale’s Window - JavisTG
607. supreme-doritos asked:Hi! first off i just wanna say your page is amazing!! ive read so many ffics bc of it so thank you <3   i was wondering if you know of any catching fire fics where katniss isn't as naive and actually sorta knows whats going on/is more aware that her actions have consequences? also do you know of any fics where katniss is friends with the other victors (eg she won before the 74th games or she is just nicer etc lol)? thank you so much!! :)
608. luckyphoenix asked:Hi! Are there any fics where Peeta has a nickname (From family, friends, or K)? I’ve read some where he’s called peanut by his dad or angel by K but I can’t remember where?
His dad calls him Peanut in these:
See Right Through My Walls - HPfanonezillion
Catch Me As I Fall - HPfanonezillion
Katniss calls Peeta “Peanut” in this one:
Fifty Shades of Peeta - mrspeetamellark
609. makennalovessunshine asked:I know there are a lot of fics that show the affects of Peetas abuse from the capitol but do you know of any that show the effects of his moms abuse. Like flinching when someone makes a gesture cause his first thought is that there going to hit him or anything simialar?💚
Let Me Fly - FanficAllergy & RoseFyreFyre
610. emilythelegend asked:Any touch starved katniss fics??
611. atfhj asked:Hi! Do you know of the story where Katniss was dating Gale and Peeta was Gale’s apartment neighbor. I think it started with Katniss showing up in a trench coat (w nothing under) on Peeta’s door instead of Gale’s. Also, do you know one where Katniss is Peeta’s personal assistant? I remember one where Peeta was older than Katniss and they both went to Finnick and Annie’s wedding, which was back in Peeta’s hometown.
FOUND!1) Rain, come again - orphan_account (Thank you, @emilia206!)
 - or -
This ficlet - atetheredmind (Thank you, @allie-rose!)
2) Baked - peetazeus (Thank you, @finnickfoxes!)
612. stonyspideypool asked:Hey! I can't remember what this fanfic is called but it is explicit. And katniss and peeta are in college I think they are best friends.. or it might be gale and katniss but she gives him a blowjob when he's trying to work or somethin and gale walks in but he doesn't know I can't remember what it's called.. there's also another one where she does it in the bakery. Sorry I can't remember 😅LOVE THE BLOG BTW❤💙❤💙
FOUND! Part of this sounds like the second chapter of Saint Peeta by thegirlonpeetamellark. (Thank you, @bellairestrella!)
Do any of these fics ring a bell? Please let us know!
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In District 12, After The War
Pairing: Everlark, with a side of Platonic!Gale and Katniss action. Rated K. 
Summery: Gale returns to District 12, and Katniss is tasked with whether or not she can forgive. 
A/N- SO excited to post this! An Everlark version of Hindsight was promised and is now being delivered. This version you will notice is longer. Yea. Thats because I really enjoyed writing this, and didn’t really want to stop XD. This fic, rest assures, is kind to all characters. Last time I went super hard on Peeta, and here he gets not only not have his heart stomped on, but also gains a friend.  Please enjoy! Like, reply or reblog if you see fit :). 
Katniss freezes when she sees Gale get off the train. They are gathering supplies for the new bakery, and she doesn't expect a familiar face to come back and haunt her that morning.
Thankfully, Peeta places a gentle hand on her shoulder. Having seen Gale, too. It goes unspoken- are you okay?
She breaks eye contact with the other set of grey eyes. Turning back to Peeta, she gives him a ghost of a smile and hurries them along to the bakery site, or where it will be once it's finished. They spend the day placing drywall. Exhausting work, but she enjoys the way the space is coming together. And Peetas pride in it even more than that. He's worked tirelessly to make it happen, and Katniss can't help but let the excitement rub off.
For the night, she forgets the ghost that had come to haunt her.
The next morning while hunting, though. Gale shows up again. Finding her on the way into the forest.
What they scream during the fight, Katniss doesn't quite remember. It happens fast, and she leaves angrily to return home, deciding to wait for hunting till he goes back to his life in District 2.
That night, Peeta isn't sure what caused her slightly horace voice or why she seems to relive Prim's death more than normal. But he kisses her and holds her, and Katniss doesn't move from his warmth for a long time.
In the morning, they are making breakfast when Peeta stops to look at the walkway. Having heard the steps as well, she joins him in looking out the window to see Gale paused at their flowerbed of primroses. The pain on his face is evident, and though he likely intended to come and knock on the door, he stands there silently for a few moments. Eventually, sinking to his knees and still not moving.
Peeta gives her a look that says it all, and she joins Gale outside.
When she sits beside him, Gale begins talking. For some time, he goes on and on without really saying much. The words are meaningless enough for Katniss to forget them before they are heard, but the message is clear through the entire monologue. All he truly accomplishes saying is I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-
Katniss leans closer to him. Enough so that their shoulders brush, slightly but enough. Plenty enough to say in response it's not your fault, it's not your fault, it's not your fault.
It was so much easier to blame him for losing Prim than anything else. Somewhere she knew he never intended to harm her sister, but seeing him as the one who dropped the bombs was simpler than being angry and hurt at an enemy she can no longer fight. Now though, Katniss is confronted with his loss and can't hold onto the blame seeing tears slide down his face.
He leaves later in the afternoon, but they find one another again as she goes hunting. This time they go together, and the ice between them melts.
Old routines return, and they track and fish while they catch up.
Gale tells her about all the work happening with his help in District 2. Rebuilding homes and several hospitals. Shops are some ways away but in the plans as well. The rest of the Hawthornes are also there, and Katniss feels relieved to hear stories about Posy, how the boys are doing well in school.
For her part, she tells him how she's been able to begin living again. Not only hunting, but she tells him about knitting, about writing, and cooking. That Greasy Sae has finally been able to restart her stall at what is now the market, an unhidden version of The Hob. When she tells him about Peeta returning and how they've continued to become closer and closer, she becomes uneasy. Unsure and hesitant to see his reaction.
His response is warm, though, and she holds back tears at how good it feels to know she isn't hurting him.
Walking home feels surreal. When she leaves Gale to return home, Peeta is there, and they end up curling together on the couch. She's so pleased and content that she falls asleep early in his arms.
Peeta has the idea to invite Gale to dinner after a few days, and she doesn't think she's ever been so at ease around the both of them together. Both of them are with her and happy. It feels both foreign and remarkable having both her partner and her friend close at the same time.
It continues for a few more weeks.
The boys even become friends while Gale comes around occasionally, to hunt with her or visit with Sae or Delly or other familiar faces that have returned. One day, she finds the two of them pouring over building plans for the bakery. All three of them become comfortable enough she can run to Peeta when she comes home from hunting, kiss him, and wave goodbye to Gale when he leaves just after.  
For some time, it works. Gale stays till they have the grand opening of the bakery and gives a toast to the two of them, their strength and love.
Katniss is shocked when Gale mentions he is planning to go back to District 2 the next day.
It makes sense, and she is glad he is doing it when he tells her he misses helping. Doing all the positive things there that District 12 is doing all by itself.
The news still hurts at first, though. It feels like she has only just gotten her hunting partner back, her friend and brother. That night, it's Peeta who consoles her, holding her as she worries about Gale. Despite his improvement while with them, part of her still sees the destructive fire and bitterness in him. Her dandelion, though, of course, is quick to remind her how similar she was, not so long ago.
Katniss kisses him when he says it, instead of saying that he's right.
As she and Peeta see him off, while she misses him, Katniss is glad to know he'll be writing and calling, or even visiting. But she is made even more lighthearted, knowing he is seeking his own peace, much like the one she's found in Peeta and the slowly rebuilding district around them.
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bywhatilove · 4 years
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Mockingjay Reread (the 2nd half)/ rewatch of Mockingjay Part two Thoughts
Warning: I have ALOT of thoughts concerning Mockingjay part two
Josh Hutcherson doesn’t get NEARLY enough credit for playing hijacked Peeta. No one could have done it like he did. Same goes with Jen in how she brought the many, many character layers of Katniss alive.
and while we are on the topic of acting- I know Jen and Josh don’t really match their character’s book descriptions but, they both did SUCH a good job at bringing Katniss and Peeta alive. I truly can’t imagine anyone else playing Katniss and Peeta as far as acting goes.
UGH I could really write a whole thesis paper on the character’s differing perspectives about how far is too far when it comes to your actions in war time. That is a component of Mockingjay that is so fascinating to me.
There are so many instances in Mockingjay when you can see that Katniss really is just a seventeen year old girl who should not have been placed in this position. And, when I remember that I’m the same age that Katniss and Peeta are in Mockingjay? It makes me realize just how powerful this story really is.
Definition of heartbreak: “All I know is I would have saved myself a lot of suffering if I had just given that bread to pig” no, seriously, look heartbreak up in the dictionary, that’s the actual definition
Finnick, Johanna, Katniss and Peeta is the ot4 I deserved and I will NEVER not be bitter I didn’t get it
The shot of Katniss and Prim dancing at the wedding is so heart wrenching because you know it’s one of the last moments they ever have together.
Katniss showing her little self up after hiding on the hovercraft and trying to stay unseen while everyone stops and stares will never not be funny to me
Finnick being kind to Peeta and looking out for him while everyone else tries and avoids him will always warm my heart. They are the Brotp I deserved.
“You’re a painter. You’re a baker. You always sleep with the windows open...” excuse me while I go cry in a corner
“Clearly some alliances don’t last forever.” CEASER FLICKERMAN HOW DARE YOU. I was rooting for you. We were all rooting for you.
“That’s what you and I do. We keep each other alive” That line hits differently because they’ve been doing that since they were 11.
Finncik? Odair? Died? No. He’s alive and well and living with Annie and their son in four. I don’t know who just died but it definitely wasn’t my man finnick.
“Stay with me. Always.” Do I need to say anything else?
“If you end this, all those deaths, they mean something.” Peeta’s speech in Tigresses basement is the first sign that the real Peeta is back. It’s one of my favorite parts in the movie.
“If I see you again, it’s going to be a different world.” Arguably my favorite everlark moment of the entire series- either book or movie. At this point, they know it’s the end of something, rather that be the end of the capital’s regime or the end of the districts rebellion. They both know that what happens within the next couple of hours, ultimately decides their fate. And after everything they’ve been through together, this could really be the last time they see each other and they know that.
The image of the capitol children being forcibly removed from their parents, and then the parachutes drop and everyone just assumes they are gifts...it hurts.
Prim dying is something that I really don’t have any words for. This whole story started with Katniss protecting her sister from probable death. And for prim to die in the very last moments of the revolution? It’s terrible.
The fact that there were 75 victors , and only seven were still alive in the end blows my mind.
Snow’s talk with Katniss in the rose garden always gives me goosebumps.
I’ll admit it- I’m not Gale’s biggest fan. But he deserved a better ending. His and Katniss’ friendship deserved a better ending.
Headcanon- Peeta and Annie routinely check up on each other via letters and phone calls post war and Annie eventually visits district 12 with her kid and Johanna
Was it too hard to include the “let me go. I can’t” dialogue? Seriously, it would have took like three seconds
Katniss’ depression when she is locked up in the training center after killing Coin and when she returns to 12 absolutely breaks my heart. She’s only 17 and she went through so much. Katniss deserved only the best.
“The life of a victor.” Effie Trinket, I adore you.
“We’re fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and a great gift for self-destruction.” One of my favorite quotes from the entire series.
The Katniss and Peeta theme that always plays over their scenes together is so beautifully composed. James Newton Howard is a genius.
“You love me. Real or not Real?” “Real” maybe I cry everytime. maybe I do, and thats okay.
Katniss goes from seeking Peeta’s comfort because of nightmares to seeking his comfort because she genuinely just wants to be with him, and I think that’s beautiful.
Anytime I see anyone complain that Katniss having children/ending up with Peeta is OOC and shouldn’t have happened, I have to physically reframe myself from fighting them.
“But there are much worse games to play” is the perfect way to end the series. Suszanne Collins, you may have caused me emotional trauma, but you are a genius and I’ll forever be grateful that you created my favorite story.
As you can tell, I have a lot of thoughts/emotions when it comes to this series. Seriously, I have a lot. So if anyone ever wants to talk about it with me, don’t be afraid to reach out.
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fictionadventurer · 4 years
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Hi! I saw a commenter on one of your THG metas a while back who was upset about Gale's treatment at the end of Mockingjay, and it got me thinking. With your framing of the romances/triangle as a battle between worldviews, Katniss looking at Gale and seeing the bomb & Prim dying isn't her (falsely or truly) associating Gale with Prim's death as a personal act; rather, it is her understanding that his worldview was one leading to the bombing and Prim's death. Would you say that's accurate? Thanks!
That’s a pretty accurate framing of it, though before I give a more thorough answer, I’m going to take a look at the key scene.
We stand there, face-to-face, not meeting each other’s eyes. “You didn’t come see me in the hospital.” He doesn’t answer, so finally I just say it. “Was it your bomb?”
“I don’t know. Neither does Beetee,” he says. “Does it matter? You’ll always be thinking about it.”
He waits for me to deny it; I want to deny it, but it’s true. Even now I can see the flash that ignites her, feel the heat of the flames. And I will never be able to separate that moment from Gale. My silence is my answer.
“That was the one thing I had going for me. Taking care of your family,” he says. “Shoot straight, okay?” He touches my cheek and leaves. I want to call him back and tell him that I was wrong. That I’ll figure out a way to make peace with this. To remember the circumstances under which he created the bomb. Take into account my own inexcusable crimes. Dig up the truth about who dropped the parachutes. Prove it wasn’t the rebels. Forgive him. But since I can’t, I’ll just have to deal with the pain.
Katniss seems to focus almost entirely on the personal side of the issue. No matter what the mitigating factors are, it’s possible that Gale was responsible for the death of Katniss’ sister, and Katniss, as a person, can’t forgive Gale for the fact that his bomb could have caused this personal loss.
Yet on some level, she seems to recognize that she’s rejecting Gale’s philosophy as well. She realizes that it doesn’t matter if it was his bomb or not--she’ll never be able to separate him from that moment. Even if the rebels didn’t drop that particular bomb, he designed an identical one. And after seeing the horrible, personal tragedy that resulted from it, she can’t stomach having that person in her life.
But the key reason she can’t forgive him is because Gale doesn’t ask for forgiveness. Even now that he’s seen the horrible price of warfare, he doesn’t repent. He doesn’t recognize that his strategy to kill innocent bystanders was wrong, even after it’s devastated some of the most important people in his life. He doesn’t offer apologies. He doesn’t even offer condolences. He focuses entirely on Katiniss’ inability to forgive, and never recognizes his own need for forgiveness.
Gale can’t see that this goes beyond the personal fact that his bomb may or may not have killed Prim. As Katniss says above, she can live with horrible actions--she’s done plenty of terrible things herself. But the key difference is that Katniss realized her actions were wrong. Gale hasn’t admitted that. To him, Prim’s death is just unfortunate collateral damage. It doesn’t make him rethink or repent of his utilitarian philosophy. The ends justify the means, and even this horrible, horrible end hasn’t changed his mind.
“That was the one thing I had going for me. Taking care of your family.” In this personal scene, those words are almost allegorical. They could easily have been spoken by War itself, a personified figure of the philosophy of violence. Katniss always turned to violence to protect her family, and now violence has destroyed it. Katniss recognizes that, but Gale never will. He’ll always be the warrior, so there’s no place for him in the life of a girl who’s grown beyond war.
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My answer to @ottogatto
We have. Every right. To dislike a character. And like another. Especially if they are very different. No matter if it bothers you.
Okay first of all, of course I have no right to tell you what you should say or what you should think.
What I meant was you say Snape is a grey character and you said he bullied, yes. But you forgave him. And yet you can’t forgive James Potter. Who bullied Snape,yes. But who became an amazing person. He was whiter than Snape.
Theres one thing I still can’t understand. HOW CAN YOU JUSTIFY SNAPES BULLYING AND NOT JAMES’S. Of course you can hate James, but you can’t hate him for his bullying; because yourself, is supporting a bully. Which means you have unreasonable hatred AGANIST James.
And of course you can have it. It’s your life and you can do whatever you want. But you have to UNDERSTAND THAT HE WAS A BULLY TOO.
And as much as you have the right to hate James I have the right to hate Snape. And I know you are aware of it.
I understand people liking Snape, but there’s two things I can’t stand. People hating James and people shipping Snily🤮🤮🤮. Im fully aware that everyone can have their opinions. But when i posted a funny post about “Albus S**erus”’s name IN MY OWN BLOG people attacked me.
I didn’t ever blame James for protecting his friends -- I literally said that was “Good” or “Great”. I literally said that the fact he joined the Order was good. I didn’t forget it. I pointed out his flaws just like you exclusively did on Snape’s part.
Yes, but no one wants to read James’s good traits and when they do; they say “good” “great”. The thing you say “good” and “great” to is him risking his own life for the wizarding world. I think he deserves more than “good”
And everyone is so focused on what James did as a 15 year old, a teenager; no one wants to see him as an adult. I’m so sad for James. Can you imagine it? You Do your best for your family and for the wizarding world and get hated because you bUlLiEd a death eater. I’m sure you all went to Highschool. Is every snape’s Fans are saints? No. Did you do nothing bad?!
Snape did everything I talked about as an adult. But Snape Fans ARENT over what a 15 year old boy did! So I’ll discuss that for hours.
There is no evidence that Snape killed people, you made it up (unless you count how he led Lily and James to their deaths, despite his efforts to prevent this). In fact, his position as a spy clearly states that he wasn’t on the battlefield slaughtering people. On the contrary, Voldemort sent him to try and have him as a spy teacher, which means that Snape couldn’t be known to kill people in the meantime. We have further evidence: Bellatrix does blame Snape for “always slithering out of action” as a spy, which point out that as a double-agent (and later as Dumbledore’s spy), he tried not to kill people. On the other hand I could say that James could have killed people. Why not? If McGonagall says “we fight to kill” and if James hate those Death Eaters so much he could have killed the people of the other side.
You said Snape probably didn’t kill anyone because he was a spy. You are wrong. Snape became a spy after Lily died. So in the First Wizarding War, he wasn’t a spy. He was a death eater on the field. Also Bellatrix Blamed Snape on HBP, which is the Second Wizarding War. I never said snape killed people in the 2.WW. I said in the the First wizarding war.
James was an auror. Of course he killed people. He killed Death Eaters. ITS NOT A BAD THING LMAOOOOOO. Every auror killed Death Eaters. Dumbledore,McGonagall,Sirius,Remus, and literally everyone who fought for the right side
The level of Fred and George’s hexing -- even though I don’t like how they burned a hold through Ron’s tongue, imprisoned Montague in a limbo, and killed an animal for fun -- doesn’t reach at all the level of bullying James and the Marauders perpetrated. In fact, Harry thinks, in OotP, that even Fred and George wouldn’t do what they did.
Ohh, you don’t like Fred and George too. To be honest , I’m just repeating myself at this point. If you don’t like Fred and george, how can I expect you to like James.
WE CALL IT PRANKS. OF COURSE I DONT SUPPORT ALL OF FRED&GEORGES ACTIONS NOR MARAUDERS’s ACTIONS. But you hate them for their pranks (yeah, I’ll say pranks because what they did to Snape was mutual. “Snape Never missed a time to hex James” THIS IS CANON. Yes, he might not have tried to curse James after that exam. BUT IT DOESNT MEAN HE NEVER DID!!! BUT YES BLAME AN AMAZING MAN WHO FOUGHT FOR THE RIGHT SIDE, FOR ONE FRICKIN MEMORY. This whole story is one sided because we only saw James bully not Snape)
He used Dark Magic as self-defense in SWM -- the Marauders chocked him, tormented him, sent him to his death, sexually assaulted him. Dark Magic could have been punished by the professors. Doesn’t excuse the Marauders for bullying. Whether. Or not. They use Dark Magic. What’s the point of repeating myself though if you don’t want to understand my points in my previous answer?
Okay don’t trying to be rude, but aren’t you a little bit dramatic here. “Chocked him, tormented him,.....” LMAOOO. Im sorry but you cant prove that they s*xualy assualted him because it was never said that they removed his underwear or not. Also dark magic SHOULDNT be considered. YES YOU HAVE TO STICK UP FOR YOURSELF BUT DARK MAGIC ISNT THE ANSWER. And if you think, using dark magic is acceptable; I don’t think I can change your mind
Also in the Werewolf Incident, it’s %100 Sirius’s fault. I will not defend him. But I’m sure he didn’t want him to die. But James risked his life for Snape. Also you said “why Snape would ask forgiveness for his bully [to Voldemort]” Because when you are a nice person, you don’t care whether you like this person or not. You don’t want anyone to die. Even if that’s your biggest enemy. Don’t I have people who I hate? yes. But I would never want their death. And so didn’t James, so he saved Snape’s life’s . But sure , ignore this too.
Snape said that what Mulciber/Avery/other Slytherins did to Mary (and we don’t know what that was) is a joke -- he uses the same excuse as the Marauders in front of Lily, who bites the bait. This allows him to point out to Lily that they are no different. I do wish not to repeat myself about how Hermione mutilated someone’s face and gets out with it, though it could have been Dark Magic as well, seeing how it can’t get off and how serious this is (doesn’t mean I hate her -- I actually like Hermione).
I don’t love Hermione, and I don’t know if it’s dark magic or not; so I don’t think I can argue about that. But however, I want to point something out. Snape said “it was a joke” to Dark Magic while Marauders used prank spells
See the difference ?
Okay so, you can’t stand James bullying and I can’t stand Snape bullying. But they were teenagers, weren’t they? Okay. I’ll hypothetically forgive Snape for what he did as a teenager and you’ll hypothetically forgive James for what he did as a teenager
All of the reasons you hate James is from his teenager hood (?). You are hating a 15 year old CHILD. Okay. Let’s skip to the adult part. Who was a death eater as an adult and who was a member of the OOTP as an adult. Every Snape fan loves Lily. And lily loves James. Do you think James gave Lily drugs and made her fall in love LMAOOOOO. In the end of the day LILY CHOOSE JAMES. Lily is no one’s property and she doesn’t belong with Snape. She’s her own person and she choose James. If James is that horrible person you keep talking about how do Lily love him? How do McGonagall and all of the teachers love him. I was trying to stay calm when I wrote 728281 essays. But I keep repeating the same thing because no one reads them and they just reply from their deliusuonal world. I was on my phone all day, and I did nothing else. Of course, no one is forcing me and I love debating. But my essays don’t change anything at all!! I feel like I wrote them for nothing and I keep repeating it.
It isn’t confirmed that if Lily’s son hadn’t been threatened then Snape wouldn’t have changed sides. You made it up. Because guess what? I can still say he would have changed sides because he was growing disgusted by Voldemort’s actions, or because he couldn’t bear knowing that Lily was undergoing too much danger. And what if he wouldn’t have changed sides? Doesn’t matter, because he did it in the end, which doesn’t make it less brave. There are a bunch of heroes who wouldn’t have lifted a finger for the right cause hadn’t their loved ones been threatened (Katniss, Eren, etc) and yet does it make them less heroic? No because you don’t only judge someone by their initial motive -- but by their actions. Snape was the reason many were saved -- including Harry, Hermione and Neville, mind you. Which would make me repeat again my earlier poin
Yes it is confirmed. This question was asked to JKR in 2007(I’m sorry I’m not sure about the year) JKR wasn’t a bad person back then, and the books/movies were JUST released. Someone asked “would snape change sides if Lily wasn’t in danger” and she answered “no. he probably wouldn’t, I don’t think so” which is another proof that, snape changed sides because of his own selfish reasons.
And you are wrong about the hero thing. If lily wasn’t in danger, snape would contiune being a death eater and kill innocent people. Of course Katniss wouldn’t volunteer if her loved ones weren’t in danger. But even if Katniss didn’t volunteer. She was a nice person. Even before she volunteered she was a hero who tried to help people. The problem I have is if lily wasn’t in danger snape would kill innocent people. If Prim wasn’t in danger would Katniss kill innocent people? no. She would’ve continued living. That’s the difference.
Also as I said before I have an amazing discussion why Snape isn’t brave. Please read that because I’m so tired of repeating myself. My problem isn’t with Snape. My problem is him being overrated and him being “the bravest man” but he actually isn’t
I’ve already proven to you that bullying is always one-sided (especially 4-on-1 bullying) and that Snape “didn’t bully James back” but was actually trying to mind his own business -- that what Sirius says is what bullies typically say to blame the victim and thus sees his words put into question.
As many Snape Fans you are making excuses and the excuse here is “Sirius’s POV is biased”.
But what if it’s not. You can’t hate someone because of the possibility of Sirius having a biased POV. It’s only a possibility.
And you know what else is a possibility. Snape’s POV might be biased too. What if he’s overreacting. It’s his own memory. We cant be sure it’s %100 true.
Yet I act and answer like it’s %100 true because we have no proof that says otherwise. Same with Sirius, you have to act like it’s canon.
Also if James didn’t change why would Lily marry him. You can’t say Lily’s mind was biased, can you? LMAOOO
Indeed he bullied Neville and Harry. Wow. Big news of the Earth. But do rest assured that Snape, if given the choice, wouldn’t have stayed a teacher. He was a spy, not a teacher. He was an adult, and what do the other adults in HP? Molly tells her children to respectfully call him “Professor Snape”, Lupin says that Snape was right in some points, McGonagall stays friends with him, the other professors seem to quite like him, Dumbledore let him be harsh/bullying. Well I mean, when McGonagall uses death threats as punishment and shames Neville, when Trelawney shoves a book in Neville’s belly in rage, when Flitwick shrieks at his students and throws Trevor at the other side of the classroom -- because if you hadn’t read it, Neville was said not to be coddled in other courses as well -- when at least half of the teachers in Hogwarts should go have a check with an organization that tells them how to behave, I’m not going to blame Snape only. Personally I would have left the school the moment I knew the professors and Dumbledore allowed extreme bullying to occur, left barely punished.
Oh poor Snape. Did he do a job he hated!!! HOW CAN YOU USE THIS AS AN EXCUSE. HE BULLIED CHILDREN. THE CHILDREN HE WAS RESPONSIBLE OF. AND HIM NOT WANTING JOB IS AN EXCUSE!!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME. This is absolutely no excuse. None of us do what we want to , but you can’t take your anger or your hatred from innocent children
I explained to you the Boggart. It’s up to you to listen or no.
Of course I listened to you, but I don’t think it has explanation nor an excuse. What he did was unforgivable and unjustifiable
Snape changed and I have given you the evidence. That he didn’t act nice -- even that I would partially explain as being his play as a deep cover double agent. What would Voldemort do if he learned that he coddled Neville? And really, he mostly wanted Neville to try and once succeed at following recipes, not making the potion explode or melt the cauldron along with his feet. Did he go out of his way to track Harry and Neville down to assign them detention? Did he mock Neville for being the child of vegetative parents? Clearly you haven’t seen the worst.
Clearly I haven’t seen the worst!!! Excuse me!! He humiliated him in front of Slytherins which ended up him getting bullied. He ruined his self esteem and he wasn’t able to do anything. He already had a hard childhood and he made him feel like a piece of sh** PLEASE DONT TRY TO MAKE AN EXCUSE. SNAPE FU**ED UP NEVILLES CHILDHOOD AND HIS MENTAL HEALTH. DO YOU THINK ITS OKAY. “It IsNt ThE WoRsT” I THOUGHT THIS TOPIC WAS OFF DEBATABLE. BULLYING A CHILD YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE OF ISNT OKAY.
I mean, Snape did become a young adult and tried to cope with what he lived. Wanna know how? He came to think that emotions were weaknesses (indeed it could cost his life), that discipline was essential, that rule-breaking was intolerable, and that you must be rigorous in your work. That those who “hold their hearts on their sleeves” are foolish and weak. Ah yes, that happens when you lived the last 22 years in the very place in which you were bullied, without access to any psychological help.
To be honest I don’t know why I’m discussing this with you, if you have this moral!!! HARD DISCIPLINE WAS NECESSARY!!!! THIS ISNT HARD DISCIPLINE THIS IS BULLYING. ACCEPT IT.
Still - I understand if you don’t like Snape for his bullying attitude. What I don’t agree with, on the other hand, is how you claim that Snape’s Patronus was a sign of obsession. I wonder what that makes Tonks then, whose Patronus changed as well? Or Harry having his father’s Patronus (oof)? Besides assuming that Snape’s Patronus changed at all -- you say that true love isn’t obsession. Guess what? Patronuses represent true love. Snape wasn’t obsessed, but James showed obsessive misogynistic behavior against Lily -- I proved it twice. If you’re going to tell me that characters can’t have Patronuses of the other sex and that Patronuses of different sexes (male/female) are the true sign of love while Patronuses of the same gender equals obsession then I’m going to call you homo/queerphobic. Yeah, have you thought about what those later assumptions meant?
If you want to I can discuss why James and Lily are soulmates. Why Jily is superior and why Snily is even disgusting to think.
Snape didn’t ruin Harry’s childhood. Voldemort did. If not for Snape Harry would have had no childhood. Especially when you know that the only reason Lily was given a choice to sacrifice her life for Harry (thus giving blood protection) is because Voldemort was convinced by Snape to spare her. If Snape hadn’t asked this, Lily would have had no choice but to die, and Harry would have followed. Must I mention how Harry would have been killed at 11 if not for Snape.
Also let’s love snape; who supposedly protected Harry. “You know what Harry, your mom didn’t loved me 82929 years ago also your dad was cooler than me, so I will treat you and your friends like sh*t
He never changed nor matured. He didn’t move on from Lily but he abused Harry because of his father.
Also thank you Snape for not killing Harry at 11. If Dumbledore told his suspicions to any other teacher, they would’ve done the same. Thank you Snape for not letting Harry fall from his broom.
And indeed it’s the same thing over and over again: I have the right (and the reasons) to dislike James and love Snape, just as you have the right (and the reasons) to dislike Snape and love James.
I won’t force you to like anyone. But you can’t + shouldn’t hate James because he was a bully. Snape was a bully too. You cant love a bully but also hate a bully. You should find more reasons to hate him. But it’s really hard to find reasons to hate James Potter who sacrificed himself for the world. Of course we will only focus on what he did as a 15 year old child. But what snape did at 15 has 392929 excuses.
Thank you for discussing this with me in an humane way. I highly encourage you to read my previous posts because I mentioned everything. Literally everything. I’m repeating myself at this point
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pynkhues · 4 years
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Since you're a writer, I'm hoping you can shed some light on this. IMO the writers were chasing viewers in S2 and trying not to get canceled. Personally, I hate when writers toy with their audience, it means they don't have a clear picture of their characters and narrative. How do you feel about writers making it up as they go?
Ah, this post got really long, anon! Since you asked me as a writer, I’m answering as one (I hope you don’t mind! I also hope this doesnt come out as too Creative Writing 101 for people either. This is just lessons I’ve learned and use in my own practice, so I’m applying them here.) 
(Also I have drawn horrible diagrams on my very pink notebook paper - I am so sorry, haha)
So first thing’s first - no. I don’t think the writers were chasing viewers (at least not beyond the way any writer is wanting an audience), and I don’t think they were making it up as they go really, but I can understand why you would think that way! 
It won’t be a surprise to anyone that I love this show a lot, but coming from it as both a writer and editor - this show does have narrative problems, and the biggest ones, particularly in s2, are in execution, escalation and pacing. 
I think heading into the season they had certain character arcs they wanted to follow which married well with the story they wanted to tell. In particular, I actually think the writers have a very strong handle on the girls (I will say that I’ve had a few asks telling me Beth’s characterisation is all over the place, which I’m curious about, just because I personally find her very consistent, and when I’ve asked for clarification, I’ve never gotten any reply, so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
I mean, look at their s2 arcs on paper, right? 
Ruby tries to negotiate Stan’s lowered opinion of her after the reveal of what she’s done, then has to negotiate him telling her to turn Beth and Annie in. She manages the situation painfully but pulls them through and they’re close again as Ruby navigates the increasingly lower depths of their crime life. When Stan acts to save Beth for Ruby and is arrested, it only escalates – the case on him driving Ruby to extremes to try and save him, including robbing a Quick Cash and using counterfeit money to bribe a lawyer. On top of that, she’s being targeted by an FBI agent who’s after her best friend who she gives up and then saves and then who tries to sacrifice herself for them. Ruby finishes the season the most morally compromised she’s ever been.
Annie gets back together with her ex only to find out that he’s gotten his not-quite-separated-wife pregnant. She splits up with him, but is heartbroken and it’s only amplified by the fact that they’ve been given a job by their Crime Boss to murder a man who tried to rape her but who’s grandmother she has a relationship with. Her sister can’t kill him, and Annie doesn’t get the chance as MP beats her to it. Upon disposing of the body though she endures a whole lot of pain as a result of both her ex’s new family and knowing she’s robbed a woman of her own. Annie goes on a guilt tour – tells her son, helps Marion, helps Nancy only to eventually find an absolver of her guilt in Noah, who builds her up and tells her she’s more than what life has given her. She lets herself have it for a while, before realising he’s FBI and there to trap her, and Annie tries to use him only to realise she can’t, and she finishes the season in a lot more hurt than she started it.
Beth struggles with guilt after getting Dean shot, gets the job to kill Boomer from Rio, can’t do it, gets support and encouragement from him (in various states of animosity), but in the end doesn’t have to find out if she can do it because MP does it instead. She’s rewarded by Rio in a way she probably never has been by anyone, her husband further subjugates her, so she has sex with Rio, starts to entertain a future with him, but he undermines her, so she seizes control from him. They work together. Dean forces her to break up with him due to jealousy, she struggles, goes back, but Rio’s stung, so unhelpful, and they play a little cat and mouse before he bails then kidnaps her and she shoots him.
With the exception of that very last sentence, I think all of those are narratively really strong pathways to have explored. Like I said above though, the issue is in execution, escalation and pacing.
But to talk about those things, I think I probably need to talk about story. 
SO!
Stories have a shape.
Kurt Vonnegut talks extensively about this, and while he’ll talk about a few different types of story shapes, they really all boil down to this bad boy here:
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Look at this guy.
What a beautiful thing.
He’s a story.
It doesn’t matter if you’re reading Dr Seuss or Charles Dickens, when you read a story – when you strip away its words and its characters and its settings – this is what it looks like.
Or, well.
Not quite.
Really, it’s this guy:
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But we’ll talk about him in a sec.
Right now, let’s talk about that first little inch: 
The Beginning
The fact that stories have a beginning is not a surprise to anyone. Stories need them. In some ways, they’re the most important part of your story. After all, the job of the beginning is to set up the world your protagonist is about to leave behind. That is essential in grounding a reader / viewer – orienting them to the world that they’re in, and getting them invested in the story you’re about to tell, if not the protagonist.
Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Star Wars, Game of Thrones are all excellent example of this (and frequently used in teaching) because in each of these cases it’s literal. Frodo leaves Bag End, Harry leave Privet Drive, Luke leaves Tatooine, the Starks leave Winterfell. There is a literal departure from the world before the crux of the story, and that departure is what signifies the start of the ‘hero journey’ aka the main part of your narrative.
Of course, it’s not always literal – in fact, it’s usually not. Usually that world is symbolic – it’s the single, uncertain world before the Bingley’s buy the house next door in Pride and Prejudice or the dry domestic sphere of Breaking Bad before Walt decides to make meth. It’s a marked shift, whether that’s internal or external.
In Good Girls, it’s internal.
The beginning is actually pretty perfect. The world it sets up that we’re about to (try to) depart is one of struggle and invisibility.
Beth’s in a loveless marriage promptly discovering that her husband is not only cheating but about to leave them destitute, Ruby’s getting ignored by the healthcare system and can’t afford to pay for her daughter’s wellbeing, and Annie is in a dead end job about to lose custody of her child.
Writing-wise – as a beginning, I honestly think 1.01 is close to perfect.
It sets up who these characters are, their personal conflicts, and the story world they share together, and the worlds they have on their own i.e. Ruby at the hospital and the diner, Annie at Fine and Frugal, Beth with Dean and Boland Motors.
Then:
BOOM
Inciting Incident.
The inciting incident is also often called The Point of No Return.
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When I’m teaching, I personally like to call it the “You’re a wizard!” moment.
It’s when something happens that means everything set up in the beginning will be changed forever. It’s Romeo meeting Juliet, it’s Katniss volunteering for Prim, it’s Frodo deciding to take the ring to Mordor, it’s Jaimie pushing a child out a window, it’s Beth – deciding to take her little sister’s joke seriously and rob a grocery store.
(Again, I like to use Harry Potter because it’s literal – there is no return for Harry after hearing Hagrid tell him he’s a wizard. Everything is changed forever).
Inciting incidents are probably the most singularly important narrative moment, because they’re what everything else tumbles out of. Pretty much everything that happens in the story should be a direct or indirect result of the inciting incident. The inciting incident is ultimately the key of the story and what should unlock the overall arc.
When it comes to a series – whether that be a TV series, movie series or book series, each individual instalment (see: season of a show) should have its own inciting incident which – preferably – builds off the one established in the first instalment.
The Hunger Games does this really well. Katniss and Peeta being brought back into the games in Catching Fire is both an imitation inciting incident which allows the author to explore the story world further in an exciting way, and also an inciting incident that’s directly borne out of the first book / film – aka Katniss pissed enough people off during the first games that they’re going to try and kill her for real this time, which in turn gives us the opportunity to explore Katniss’ trauma, the ramifications of her actions in the first book on the broader story world, and to generate a new, compelling chapter based off of both.
Good Girls has a terrific inciting incident in s1 – which is Beth realising she’s about to lose everything.
That is our narrative point of no return.
And it works on a lot of levels – it establishes Beth as the driving engine of the story, fuelled by the chorus motivations of Annie and Ruby, rounding off both their collective and individual stakes, it sets us up for a strong narrative spine and solid characterisations.
Good Girls actually also has a terrific inciting incident in s2, which operates strongly on its own while also building firmly off the character arcs of s1.
The s2 inciting incident is Rio showing up on that park bench with Marcus, a gun and an order.
The story pivots here – giving Rio a lot of narrative thrust (get your minds out of the gutter kids), and making him a sort of secondary story engine. The core engine is still Beth, but her life is different now. She’s been traumatised and she’s exhausted, but Rio revealing his son to the girls (and tying their motivations up together in a neat little package) while forcing her to act, re-establishes her as the person who’s decisions are going to be the driving force of the narrative.
Ruby and Annie are, of course, story engines in their own right too, but they fall into line behind Beth usually, and their narrative push is actually usually away from the story throughline, but we’ll talk about that in a sec.
Rising Tension / The Middle
Okay, this is where things get a little tricky.
Do you remember this guy?
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When we talk about stories, rising tension / the middle is the big guy. It’s the bulk of your narrative. It’s Where Things Happen. It’s where all the ugly stuff set up in your beginning and exploded by your inciting incident just - - grows a life of it’s own.
Or - -
Well.
Maybe not.
Forget about this guy.
Rising tension is this:
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Rising tension is a series of ‘mini climaxes’ on the way to the main climax that raises the stakes, lets you know characters better, and pushes your characters onwards to the main climax.
Each of these little climaxes should be followed by a ‘narrative rest’. (that’s the dip after each spike)
Which - - I don’t know, might sound weird? I know when I started writing I was like ?? but it’s true! The closer you get to a big narrative climax, the more important rests are! Rests are – I personally think – one of the most important components of storytelling, because they re-ground an audience, remind them of what’s at stake, before thrusting everyone back into danger.
Again, Harry Potter is a gift in this sense because this is all really clearly paced out. Think about the first instalment – Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s / Sorcerer’s Stone.
Harry and Ron save Hermione and Ron from the troll!!!
Then they become friends and enjoy school and quidditch.
Harry loses control of his broom during a quidditch game!!!!
He’s okay and then it’s Christmas and Harry gets the invisibility cloak and feels connected to his parents for perhaps the first time in his life.
Harry, Hermione and Ron go through the trapdoor to get the philosopher’s stone!!!
And - - okay, you get the point.
Each mini climax ups the stakes, but we feel those stakes upped because of the time we spend with characters during the ‘narrative rest’. For instance, while Harry and Ron saving Hermione from the troll might have sparked an interest in her, it’s the narrative rest scenes between that and her setting Snape on fire during the quidditch game that makes us invest in her as a character. 
This is where things get a bit hairy with Good Girls. Good Girls does a tremendous job of giving us both great climaxes and wonderful moments of narrative rest. The issue, for me at least, is that it’s not always the best at balancing them. When I talk about escalation and pacing, this is a big part of what I mean.
Remember how I said this was the shape of a story?
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Well, I think Good Girls s2 looked more like this:
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We had a lot of solid movement in the first half of the season that sort of flattened out into a lower stakes, more meandering middle (which gave us 2.08 through 2.12). Which - -
Look.
The story changed gear, and it didn’t work.  
Think of it this way:
2.01 – mostly character-based fallout from s1 + inciting incident of Rio handing them the gun
2.02 – almost entirely rising tension culminating with the girls bribing Boomer and Beth lying to Rio
2.03 – which thrusts us straight back into rising tension with the girls trying to kill Boomer and ‘succeeding’ via Mary Pat
2.04 – which gives us a very satisfying narrative rest as we explore Rio and Beth’s relationship outside of an overall narrative thrust – he gives her a key, she shies away from him, only to fall entirely back into him culminating in sex which itself brings about a new climax (no pun intended!) in the scene with Beth, Rio and Dean at the dealership. It’s also a strong character episode in closing certain plot threads – ending Annie and Greg’s relationship + ending Ruby lying to Stan about what they’re doing – while establishing major new threads – i.e. really colliding Turner and Mary Pat.
2.05 – and after the rest, we’re back to almost entirely satisfying rising tension! Building off of the threat of finding Boomer’s body and the new tensions that Rio and Beth’s intimacy brings.
2.06 – a mix episode! Very much building to the strong climax of Beth seizing power, but also an episode that plays around with character, has a lot of strong ‘rest’ moments i.e. the girls sorting pills and talking which gives us a lot of information as to state of minds, etc.
2.07 – again, very strong mixed episode which is focused on one single, extreme climax – Jane being missing, but building a very character-centric episode around it. Also introduces Noah though? Which is a mistake. He should have been introduced - I think, in 2.05, but that feels like a whole other post.
2.08 – narratively speaking the same as 2.07 in the sense of a single climax (the girls failing to get the money back / the Beth-Ruby confrontation), but has the added bonus of flashbacks.
2.09 – we have a slight narrative thrust with the robbery of the Quick Cash but it proves very quickly to be low stakes. This is an alllll emotional stakes episode, which means narrative tension is slowing.  
2.10 – again, a character-focused, narrative rest episode devoted to Beth struggling with getting square. A few small climaxes – Annie and Ruby in Canada and Turner at the dealership being the big ones, but both quickly prove toothless. The heft / strength of the episode again is in character moments, not narrative thrust. Again - slowing it down. 
2.11 – oh, what do we have here? Another character-focused, narrative rest episode? I love this episode – it’s one of my favourites of the show, but it’s intensely character focused. Very much centred in waving away the smoke around both Noah and Rio for Annie and Beth respectively. No dramatic climaxes. Slowing the story down even further. 
2.12 – another narrative rest episode. A lot of slow exposition of Mary Pat and Jeff, which is good to know, but I’d argue placed badly in the season. This season’s already been slowing down despite the narrative timeline tightening, but this episode only further pushes on the brakes for Dean’s new job, Beth and Dean’s divorce, Beth and Rio’s break up. Two very small climaxes - the lawyer telling Ruby he knows about the money and the Boomer reveal but - in the context of the season - actually pretty low stakes. Again. Slowing down the narrative. 
2.13 – A BIG CLIMAX EPISODE WHAT IS GOING ON???
What I’m saying in this is that the pacing in the back half of the season was, to me at least, fundamentally off. They hadn’t steered a strong enough narrative spine to take us through the season, and got heavily invested in character moments and not-entirely-thought-out-fallout in the back half of the season – it didn’t understand it’s own narrative thrust well enough to get us through. It also established a certain pacing with us in the first half of the season and shifted gears halfway through.
You can’t have your first three or six episodes be high-stakes-high-action, and then make the back end of your season same-stakes-low-action and top it all off with an explosive, poorly built-up finale in the way that they did.
There wasn’t enough thrust to push us through to the scene in Rio’s loft – neither narratively or in a character sense, and as a result, those last few episodes fall apart. Even beyond that though, the season escalated quickly then - - didn’t really know what to do with those escalations? It plateaued, which is indicative of bad pacing across the season. 
I actually do think it’d be a relatively easy fix? I’d bring the Noah arc forwards and actually fiddle with the Beth and Rio break ups - get one even closer the tinale and make it more painful. Make it a climax in itself. 
But anyway, haha: 
The Resolution
All stories have a resolution too of course.
The resolution can be 30 seconds or 30 minutes – it’s a time to tie up loose ends and to reassure your audience that the journey they’ve been on is worthwhile.
(After all – you’ll notice the story diagram is not symmetrical – we never finish where we began).
I’m not going to talk too much about resolutions because at the end of the day – resolutions should fall fairly naturally out of your beginning, your inciting incident, your rising tension. It should tumble out like the double wedding at the end of Pride and Prejudice, but I will say that the s2 resolution was...err, not good. In no small part because it didn’t fall out of what we’d been told all season. They’d established a certain throughline and then taken it back, and that was nagl to be honest. 
On the plus side though - it wasn’t a finale, so I have my fingers crossed they can fix it!
But yes, back to your ask, anon. 
No, I don’t think that the writers were pandering. I think they went in with a sketched outline and that they probably got lost in the back end of the season and weren’t quite sure how to drum up the final act, which meant that final act didn’t work.
Ah, this post got so long! I hope it wasn’t boring or too self-indulgent or silly, and that you got something out of it! I am, of course, always happy to answer writing questions, and I hope you liked reading my story ramblings ;-) 
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ssaalexblake · 4 years
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I am, as they say, That person who has a huge ass pile of books to read that i’ve had, in some cases, for years, but i saw the new Suzanne Collins book was out and got an e-copy and read it immediately, you know, as you do when you have a huge pile of books to get through. 
anyway, spoilers, definitely ---
I’ve never actually read a Book where the whole story was from the perspective of a terrible protagonist, i have read books where there have been spare chapters from the perspective of villains, but never has the villain been the Protagonist before in my experience. And this protagonist was showing danger signs of a seriously pathological narcissistic personality from the opening world building chapters, and it only got worse and worse as the stakes in his life got higher and higher. 
And here’s the thing, i Know people were immediate and vapid in attacking Collins for this when the plot summary were released, and i will admit, my eyes rolled so very much at the immediate assumption that this was a story to make you sympathise wigh him, because, simply, i’ve read the trilogy. Collins’ doesn’t even make her Hero characters that sympathetic a lot of the time, with the exception of Prim and Rue, whose literary function demanded them to be symbols of purity and innocence, practically everybody else is in a shade of grey. The victors we love all have blood on their hands, even Peeta, who is also a symbol for non violent ideals, is corrupted by the narrative. This is not a series that is particularly nice to it’s cast of characters, even when we are meant to Like them. 
But now after some brief fandom browsing i am now just going ‘wtf’ at the idea that people are Still holding onto the idea After having read it that, just because a story is about a bad guy, the author Must somehow be endorsing their actions. I’ve literally never read a story with a more unsympathetic protagonist. What a Disgusting person. 
This story revealed that the villain is a pathological and possessive narcissist who is very much the hero of his own story, but sure as hell nobody else’s. 
I also noted that people have been commenting that the book is too Coincidental in its references and that it made it a bad story, that they were just for clout. That Snow is in 12. The lake. The bakery and so on and so on, and that it put people off and seemed just a grab to keep people interested, but the thing is, it’s a Ballad.  This isn’t ‘the novel of songbirds and snakes’, it’s ‘the Ballad’. It plays out, contextually, with the deliberate knowledge that all the readers have read how this story ends in the trilogy, as one of the covey’s songs. 
I’m not sure how to phrase it, but i feel like viewing the story and plot itself as more of a folk song or limerick is the best way to look at it from, it’s not Meant to be a novel. It’s a Ballad. The literary devices in two such storytelling methods are very different, in a ballad i would Expect this type of thing which is fair because the book is named a ballad. In a novel i would find it a bit too coincidental, but i don’t think that was how we were supposed to look at it. 
That all aside, i never actually had any feelings for Snow beyond the literary device he embodied, the power so vast and beyond you it is hopeless to even think of defying it. Now i have Many feelings about Snow, namely, that i actively hate him now. 
This book may actually play out as a cautionary tale about being careful of narcissists, actually, and taking care to make sure they do not end up amassing too much power. 
I would say Collins portrayed Snow as a mixture of the old Nurture versus Nature debate, his absolute lust for total control to no longer be the victim of something as horrific as the war was Clearly a case of circumstance... If he had never been in the war, he would not have felt the sheer powerlessness that has led to his absolute need for control. 
There is also the other angle of his nurturing that plays into this, his Absolute sense of entitlement as a Snow. He was born a Snow, not some lowly normal capitol family, or worse, one of those ‘district animals’. In his mind, what was rightfully His was stolen from him when they lose the business in the war because of district 13, he got bit in the ass by capitalism, hilariously. His family’s business went under, and the loss of income from it took them from hero to zero, but he though he was Owed his money and status by virtue of his birth and did not see how fragile the perch of his wealth and status was even After the perch had been toppled and he was left penniless. The presence of irrefutable evidence that nothing but access to more dollars provided his life style did not even break through his entitlement. 
But i mean, there are a lot of entitled capitalists in this world who think that just because they Used to have money and a thriving business means they are entitled to always have that, and while it makes them not that great, it doesn’t exactly make them Monsters. But here’s the thing, you also cannot claim that Snow is not just naturally a self centered narcissist. That is just a personality trait, and it is This that makes the above a horrifying problem. 
When somebody else is harmed, it is about how it will effect Him. The tragedy in being assigned district 12, girl, was not that a girl was being stolen away to be murdered, but that he got stuck with one of the kids unlikely to win. Tigris’ implication of what she may have had to do to keep their family operating was first and foremost about how uncomfortable and disgusted it made Him. Other were reduced to utter horrors to survive the war and he judged them for it, all the while, he only escaped such a thing because of a crime his grandmother committed (looting was, technically, illegal). Clemmie maybe needing him? It wasn’t about her or her life, it was about how it might effect Him (to a point, it is fair to fear for your own life in such a situation, but most would bother to feel bad about it). This is just a handful of examples, but there are many, many more. 
He is also Horrifyingly possesive. He, Literally, is a textbook case of an abusive boyfriend who kills their girlfriend because they might have priorities other than him. Lucy Gray may not be dead, i was not left with the impression he succeeded in killing her, but the deal sealer is in the attempt, not whether he succeeds. The entire narrative in his head towards his relationship with lucy contains every danger sign i’ve ever been warned against in men. He wishes to Own her, not love her, and that he was literally given her life on a plate as an experiment did not help with his narcissistic entitlement. His family and friends (though, he did not have friends) all assumed he loved her and because they said it he assumed it was true. But it was possession he was feeling. 
He did not help Lucy out of the goodness of his heart, it was self serving. It was self serving the entire time. Us, having knowledge of his internal monologue are aware of his self centered intentions, but the characters around him, unaware of this, treat him as if he is a good person because they assume he has charitable motives. He very much does not. Him comforting Clemmie was, every step of the way, for his own benefit. He Certainly was not the saint Sejanus thought he was. 
But he still Believes the people who tell him how great he is!!! Narcissist. 
he is, in short, a right piece of work. What a monster it takes to get your ‘brother’ executed for treason and manage to make it about himself in about an Hour. What a monster it takes to attempt to do that to Lucy Gray. What a monster it takes to get the Plinth’s only child killed and take his inheritance and power out of a sense of entitlement and continue calling the grieving mother ‘ma’. 
Anyway, brilliant character building. I Hate him. 
I also Love the world building, the confirmation that Reaping Day is on July 4th, the idea that in the beginning even the capitol citizens thought the hunger games were barbaric and depressing and that they had to be won over by a propaganda campaign of dehumanization and entertainment. The idea that mentors were once capitol citizens, that it went wrong so they erased it from history but cherrypicked the parts that worked. 
I found Dr Gall or whatever her name was gravitating towards Snow interesting, because people who are like that Naturally gravitate towards people who prove their world views right, and by all rights Snow does turn out very much like her (admittedly, with less an interest in science), who is to say she in turn was not less of a monster in earlier life but grew into it as well? She saw something in him and nurtured it with poison. 
This is getting increasingly more random, But i love Peeta’s highjacking now. I was never against it, but it was never the plot for me, but now i am So into it. Because Sejanus is Very peeta like, that idealism. And how satisfying it must have been for Snow to finally be able to crack into that and destroy it because he has the Power to do so now. 
On the flip side, I actually now wish we had Peeta perspective chapters, because there is a compelling argument to say Snow and Peeta have their similarities, too. I mean, their defining difference is that Peeta is a good person, but they have the same talent for sheer manipulation as each other, Peeta manipulated hunger games audiences into keeping Katniss alive longer, Snow did the same with Lucy Gray. They are both deeply charismatic, generally liked by their peers, popular, are sabotaged by small groups of people who hate them for reasons beyond their control. They are inversions, same coin, different sides. 
The sexual slavery of the victors is now a more narratively interesting thing, as well, because snow is, in this book, Disgusted by the idea of any kind of sexual impropriety (not My opinion, but he considers it impropriety). He is disturbed by Tigris’ implication she may have had to engage in it. Was what he did to the victors merely a case of his disdain for district animals and wishing to subject them to the most degrading thing as possible? How did he get from A to B here? 
Seeing the very first career pack was interesting, too. I wonder if the stronger districts started to band together in the games from realising the strategy had advantages or of the capitol subtly Encouraged the behavior themselves. The latter seems more likely, considering they were the ones out for a good show. 
I was interested on canon confirmation on the peacekeepers, to be honest. I’ve seen fic discuss where exactly they come from, but to know they are made up from less wealthy capitol citizens And district people after either money/a way out of their assigned district’s profession or both was a nice lore drop. 
I know it’s not Confirmed Tigris is the same Tigris who played a part in mockingjay but... it would be so wonderful if she were. Being brought down, in part, by she who nurtured him. Tigris loved Coryo because she thought he was somebody he was not, so when and how did she find out who he Really was? 
In the end, i find the idea that this books Shows us Snow created the country we see in the trilogy through the reasoning that A) humanity is terrible and will always fight and try to destroy each other  and that B) he decided that if point A was true, he’d amass enough personal power to make sure he would Always be in control of the fights and come out on top of them utterly Fascinating societal commentary, most of which is not really my lane to address so i won’t (also, it’s fairly obvious). 
But the idea that Snow was one of the capitol ones who sees the district people in a more favourable light simply because he’s at least willing to admit they’re not zoo animals is Stunning when you put it in context of all the things He does to them. He’s not even close to the worst one and look what he did! 
In the end, i think Collins has fleshed out this world and made it more horrifying than it was before. And Panem is meant to be a reflection of our own society’s failings. This book was not to say ‘oh Snow was an actual person so wasn’t That bad’, it was trying to say ‘Snow was an actual person and is Very much terrible’ because the idea is this series is a highlighted reflection of the real bad in our own world. If the monster Snow is cannot be relatable to a real person, how is it any kind of societal commentary at all? He cannot be one dimensional and totally evil from the womb if you want the story to actually say anything. 
I also did find this story relied on Collins’ previously seen not necessarily realistic world from the original books to make its point, and i did not expect that to be a deal breaker for so many people considering the story from the trilogy relied on its audience’s skill to read into the meaning rather than the literal at times as well, but i stand by my assertation that the title is meant to be an indication of the type of narrative the book observes, it is a song, which is a very different style of story than that in any other kind of media. 
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everlark-interviews · 7 years
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Interview with Everhutcher!
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It’s been a while, but we have more interviews lined up, and we’re ready to tackle 2017 and get you the inside scoop on all your favorites, plus some newbies coming into the fandom! Reblog, follow, and get connected with the lovely folks in the HG community. Read on for all the juicy deets about @everhutcher!
Describe yourself like your friends would describe you.
Silly, weird, funny, compassionate. Honest. Loyal. Raunchy. A ball-buster. Someone with zero personal space. Good with details.
Raunchy? That’s interesting… How so?
Oh wow. I’ve just never had a filter. I think it’s a family trait. I’m from a large, loud Eastern European family where everyone speaks their mind, sarcasm is the norm, etc. As far back as high school, my friend and I would read smutty romance novels (mostly Jude Deveraux’s books) out loud at the lunch table just to make our male friends cringe. Totally juvenile, I know. I suppose if I psychoanalyzed myself I might see it as a way to explore sexuality in a safe way or something. Because I’m not nearly so bold in my actions in that way. But even now, I’ll see a double entendre in anything and won’t hesitate to point it out. Cards Against Humanity gives me life. I blame the inner 10-year old boy in me who giggles at inappropriate times. My own 10-year old son is far better behaved than I am in that aspect.
LOL! At some point our inner teen makes a reappearance. 
What Eastern European country is your family from? Have you been there?
We’re Ukrainian on both sides of the family. I’ve never been there but it has been fun to connect with cousins from over there through social media. Some of them grew up in the Soviet days, so when I was a kid, we never really had contact with them.
Give me an example of everhutcher as a ball-buster…
It’s sort of just who I am… again, the no filter thing. I will say I don’t ball-bust in a super-aggressive or antagonistic way, because I know that’s how some people interpret the term. My brand is more teasing. My husband is 14 years older than I am, so the old man jokes are abundant. I’m always telling him at the store to ask about the AARP discount or I’ll remind him that when he was 18, I was in preschool. Just often enough to creep him out.
How did you end up in THG fandom?
That was definitely not a straight line between two points. I knew of the books for a long time, but never read them. I’d also seen THG and CF on DVD at the time they came out, and was entertained enough, but didn’t love them in the way I loved other fandoms like HP or Star Wars.
Then my stepdaughter sort of made me read the books right before MJ1 came out in theaters. She promised I’d love them. And she was right. I loved them and then my love for the whole franchise grew from there.
I can relate to that! It definitely ‘snuck up’!
Have you written for other fandoms?
To be honest, nothing has grabbed me the way THG has, so no.
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I get it! Same here.
I guess one exception is that I took part in a RPF Secret Santa thing for JHutch fans. I was really satisfied with how the story turned out but I’m not as comfortable writing about real people, so I have not been compelled to do that since. Kudos to those who can, though.
So what drew you into writing fic?
The ending of MJ just left me unsettled and unsatisfied. 
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And although I understand that in a way, it was likely written in the way Katniss would have genuinely told it (i.e., not dwelling on details), as a reader I wanted more. So, I went in search of some insight into Suzanne Collins’ choices as a writer. Instead, I stumbled across fan fiction. I started looking for some good “growing back together” fics. And my love for the entire genre was born. Eventually I felt brave enough to dive in and write some of my own because I couldn’t get enough of Everlark in just about any setting.
What was it like for you when you posted your first fic for all to see?
The same as it is now: I hit “post” or “send” and I squeal and do a panic dance in my home office. I feel like I’m jumping off a cliff or something. 
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You never know how it’s going to be received. You don’t want to look or sound stupid (the story or yourself). You might think it’s the best work you’ve done but it’s a load of shit. You just never know what will resonate with people and what won’t. I mean, ultimately you can’t worry about that during the writing process; you have to go with your gut and let the story take you where it wants to go. But you just have to hope people will see something in it that they can relate to as well.
It really never gets any easier, does it? What was a pivotal moment for you in the books?
Arghhhhhh. I think there are so many people who are so much better at noticing details of the book. So many moments. I don’t know if I can classify anything as “pivotal” but I do think some parts resonate with me more than others. The entire sequence of Peeta’s time with the Star Squad in Mockingjay was particularly important to me as a reader, as I think it lends a whole sense of hope, which is so central to the series. In particular, I think the moment Peeta realizes the lizard mutts are coming and he chooses to protect Katniss by yelling for her to run... that, to me, is it. He has already chosen Katniss over Snow in that moment.
Such a good one! What was the hardest moment for you in the series?
I would probably say Everlark’s separation at the end of Catching Fire. I’m such a sucker for those two. Throughout that book they’re connecting in a way they never had before. And unlike the film, Katniss and Peeta are both aware of the other’s presence somewhere around the lightning tree in those final moments in the arena. They can each hear the other calling out. They’re desperate to save one another, and are so close to achieving that. You know, as the reader, that it’s not going to end well for either of them. And, of course, it doesn’t.
What’s the moment you hold onto from the series? That ‘Yes! This is why I love this series’ moment…
That has to be Peeta’s return to 12. As I said earlier, you have these pivotal moments in Mockingjay where Peeta chooses Katniss, in defiance of his hijacking, sometimes without really even being conscious of it. I always wonder what happened to Peeta during his time in the Capitol after Katniss’s trial. Was it a deliberate decision to return to 12? Or was it just instinct driving him to where he felt he belonged? Either way, he returns to Katniss and his first thought is to help Katniss heal. To show Katniss some beauty in the world. He yet again creates a thing of beauty - a simple flowerbed to celebrate Prim’s life - and says “I thought we could plant them for her.” Not me, but we. Even though Katniss isn’t involved in his project, he includes her. They are a team. He is with her, in whatever way she needs. It’s unconditional and pure and lovely to see this reborn in him. Wounded but not broken.
I think you did a lovely job of picking out the details! 
What do you enjoy writing most? (Trope, canon/AU, etc)
I think modern AU is probably what comes easiest to me. For one, it’s fun to imagine Peeta Mellark alive and well and walking amongst us in the modern world just waiting for love  - and who doesn’t want that? LOL. I’m a fairly open book emotionally, more like Peeta, so writing Katniss is a fun challenge for me. And in modern AU, there’s the added challenge in presenting Katniss as someone who stays in character, still finds it hard to open up, without the details of her life in canon District 12 at play. You have to get into the psychology of a modern young woman and the things which might affect her life.
Where do you get your inspirations?
Oh, man. So many places. I suppose, now that I think about it, a lot of of my fics start with real-life events. Some are sad, like the circumstances of a friend of friend which inspired my PiP fic Promise. Others are often inspired by the random convos I have over chat or text with other bloggers. Like, Drill and Fill started with me complaining to another writer about having to go to the dentist but that thank goodness, at least my dentist was cute, and the rest unfolded from there. I also love that there are so many prompt ideas out there, whether on Tumblr or elsewhere. I’m so grateful that someone might not feel comfortable enough writing a fic on their own, but still has a great idea they want to share with others to make the story a reality.
That’s a really great observation. Give me an idea of yours that you will never write, but you would love to read.
Oooooh. That’s so tough because I think, never say never. If it’s something I’d want to read, and it doesn’t already exist, then I generally wouldn’t hesitate to at least attempt to make it a reality myself. That’s why I started writing fic, not just consuming it. I had ideas that I wanted to share. So I’d have to dig deeper to find something I’d read but not also write.
What has been your favorite fic to write?
No fair! My fics are my kids! I love them all for different reasons LOL.
If two of your fics were drowning… see where I’m going with this?
Well, if I have to choose, I’d probably say Under His Wings. I wasn’t sure where I was headed with it at all. Usually I have a strong idea to jump start the process, and my struggle is to keep the momentum of the story going later on. In this case, I had a hard time starting this story, and it picked up steam as I went along. It sort of took on a life of its own very quickly. I think it’s probably my most moving story.
What is the most challenging fic you’ve written?
I tend to write very quickly once an idea hits me, so anytime I end up with a WIP it’s because the mojo isn’t there. I’m currently on the third version of a story that I haven’t published yet. It’s supposed to be part of @papofglencoe’s clearance condom series, which she started after I took a trip to Target while chatting online with her. Her Pumpkin Spice story was such a treat, and I really want to do something fun and sexy with all that inspiration. But if I force it, I know it won’t be as good as it might have been. So WIP it remains.
If you were stranded on a desert island with any THG character, who would you pick? Just one, now!
Peeta. Hands down. Or wherever the hands want to go. See what I mean about raunchy?
HA! Down is a start in the right direction, though, yeah?
We all have that fic that’s our go to - whether it’s our own or someone else’s - that we return to because we love it and know exactly what we’re going to get. What’s yours?
If we’re talking Everlark fic, I’d probably say The Bucket List by Meadowlark27.
Why?
Faith constructed such a beautiful and heart-wrenching story that made me cry several times. If Everlark fans haven’t read it yet, it has it all. Humor and angst and sorrow and friends to lovers, all my favorite elements. And the ending. Ughhhhhh. All the feels, for sure.
What’s your writing process? Some people like to write their stories all at once, then post weekly, while others like to take it one chapter at a time, where posting is more random. Where do you fall in that spectrum?
I’d like to have the discipline to be the former, but I’m definitely the latter. Once I finish a chapter I want people to see it right away. In theory I always think it’s going to force me to work more steadily, because then I can tell myself that people have read it and want more. In reality, life always seems to fill up my time. The older I get, the more of a procrastinator I seem to become.
I get it. Why is that??
Favorite Book? (non THG)
Probably the Lord of the Rings trilogy. 
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I first read it in sixth grade, not understanding the historical context in which Tolkien crafted it. At the time I just knew it as a cool good versus evil kind of story. Now I have a much deeper understanding of the historical context, and as a history teacher it speaks to me on that level, for sure. Beyond that, the immense time and energy and effort Tolkien put into creating that universe is just astonishing. The man crafted an entire mythology that the world has embraced as readily as anything mythology of ancient times.
It is incredible. I completely agree, and I love the series!
What do you like to do in your spare time?
I have to think about what spare time is these days lol. I suppose beyond work and family (my husband, son, two stepkids, daughter-in-law and any day now, a stepgrandbaby!) 
Congratulations!
My fandom activities have filled most of my free time. Otherwise, I definitely have a love for genealogy. I’ll go through spurts where I’ll spend hours a day scouring records to add to our family tree. And I enjoy traveling. I wish I had more resources for that, but I try to get out of town every couple of months, even for just a night or two. Living in the Northeast helps, being so close to so much. I’m basically halfway between NYC and Toronto; I have a ton of family and connections in Philly so I’m always there, too. I just spent my birthday in Vegas and I really want to get back out to L.A. soon. Been an East Coast girl my whole life but I love California.
Favorite thing about Tumblr?
The friendships. They’ve gone so far beyond fandom it’s sort of astonishing. The ladies I connect with the most are just about the most open, take-me-as-I-am group of people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I have my group of girlfriends here in “real” life, particularly my friends from work. But my blogger friends are a constant presence as well. Maybe even more so, because you can always shoot off a text or a group chat throughout the day, come back and find someone three time zones away has weighed in on whatever was on your mind. We throw story ideas at each other, talk about our jobs and kids, nothing is off limits. And when you know most of you write Everlark smut you can’t really hide anything after that lol. They’ve become some of the best friends I’ve ever had.
Can you give some advice to new writers?
Just don’t be afraid to jump in and try something. Challenge yourself. There is a vast community of writers out there with a huge array of talents and strengths and styles. If you are worried about how your work compares to someone else’s, and allow it to make you hesitate to write, you’re bound to hold yourself back due to fear of failure. The only failure is to not let you idea come to life in one way or another. Put it out there and share it. Audiences are always going to be better off for it.
Thank you for taking time to talk to me!
You can find Everhutcher’s stories on AO3. Don’t forget to leave a comment! And stop by her ask box to say hey! 
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igsy-blog · 7 years
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reTHG: The Hunger Games - Chapter Three: Many partings
(Last week I forgot to respond to one of the more interesting prompts: how many times would my name have been in the reaping at age 16.  I’m the oldest of six siblings, so my number is pretty impressive.  I started to do the math on it then realized it was complicated because I had two siblings born during the ages of 12 and 15, so my numbers changed.  Also, my birthday is July 30, so I would have just missed the reaping the year I turned 12; I had to factor my younger siblings into that equation, too (both siblings born in the latter half of the year, after the reapings).  Anyway, I would have had 7 family members for the first three years of my reapings and 8 for the last four.  By age 16, that would have meant (with tesserae) 8+8+8+9+9 ... 42.)
I’ve spent the first half of the week taking care of a sick hubby and the second half down with one of the most hellish colds I’ve ever had, so this might be a bit scattershot.  I read the chapters in bed, trying to dictate notes on my ipad.  LOL.  My ipad understood me perfectly every time I called it a POS, but the rest is near gibberish.  Let’s see what I can piece back together:
General musings on Chapter 3 - Why don’t more tributes try to escape?  Interesting contrast between Prim, who can’t learn how to hunt and Madge, whom Katniss actually teaches to shoot, later.  
I think that, because we were talking about how Katniss describes things - or not - her lingering over the velvet of the couch in the Justice Building stood out to me.  Velvet is both a bit luxurious and, to contemporary readers, a bit old-fashioned, especially in terms of furnishings.  But here it is not just an interesting tactile fabric - and comforting to her, because of its texture - but a reminder that Katniss’ impoverished life has meant she just doesn’t have the vocabulary for everything.  Velvet - a remnant of her mother’s more prosperous past - is one of the only fabrics she knows by name.  In Catching Fire, it’s also the first fabric she can call to mind when trying to converse with Johanna (CF Chapter 15).  And then in Mockingjay there is a surprisingly similar scene (I hadn’t noticed the similarity before), in which Peeta bites down on a velvet pillow to manage stress (MJ Chapter 23).
Katniss’ feelings about her mother and depression is really better explored in more depth, but I always feel so much for them both here.  Hits home.
It’s funny how both Peeta and his father sort of silently express unrequited love through carbohydrates.  Though, if he’s carrying cookies around anyway … maybe to give to one of his sons in case they get reaped? (Or perhaps he had time to grab a few and run back over to the Justice Building? - although, no, presumably he said good-bye to Peeta first.)
Madge and Gale.  These are the really interesting farewells from this chapter.  With Madge’s good-bye and insistent gift of the pin, you get maybe the strongest hint that there is an existing rebellion and that the mockingjay is a pre-existing symbol for it, and that Madge has some knowledge of it.  You can explain this away by saying that perhaps Madge just really wanted to honor the memory of her aunt, who died at the same age.  But Rue’s response to it later (“That’s how I decided I could trust you.” THG Chapter 16), and the swift adoption of it by both the district and Capitol rebels hint at a deeper history.  (Also, if I recall correctly, there actually isn’t any mention of Maysilee wearing the pin when Katniss and Peeta watch the video of the 2nd Quell.)  But Katniss - reflecting on the anti-Capitol symbolism of the bird later - reminds us of the previous rebellion and the mockingjay being the literal child of this one failure of the Capitol during the war.
I love this part of the story, which touches quickly on a lot of different things that are going to be so important and/or meaningful later.  We learn here about muttations, the genetic engineering of living creatures into weapons, and how the rebellion turned one of these creatures - the jabberjay, a distortion of the mockingbird - back against them.  This is, in so many ways, what the Capitol keeps on doing to the district children in the Games - turning them into weapons against each other, and tools of oppression over their own homes.  In turn, the Rebellion now takes the disfigured remnants - the Victors - and builds a resistance movement with them.  It is without exaggeration that, eventually, Katniss and Peeta will recognize each other as tools for the warring sides and label each other mutts - and that they will both finally call themselves mutts.     
I love the description we get here of her father and the lesson of the mockingjay - the resiliency of nature and the beauty of song.  It is so sweet - knowing that Katniss figuratively becomes the Mockingjay - learning how fond he was of them, and in turn of their respect, reverence for them. At this moment, she conflates her father with the mockingjay, a protector … and the pin itself, against the dark green fabric, reminds her of the woods - the place both of safety and defiance; the place to feed oneself (to not succumb to prescribed hunger) and to shout about the Capitol.  Katniss becomes the image of the pin that she initially imagines as her father and this is - not a hint - but another suggestion about the pre-existing rebellion and that Katniss may also be a child of it.  (On more important matters, this sets up why Katniss is able to believe Peeta’s story, later, of how he came to have a crush on her.)
Briefly back to Madge - mentioned in another thread - whether or not she has an actual role in the current version of the rebellion, she fills an important role in the story as the carrier of the rebels’ symbol from one generation to the next.
Now to Gale.  Here we can see the immediate effect of his introduction of a sexual component in their relationship (even if the suggestion is just in her head).  She says that maybe there is nothing romantic between them, BUT … she steps into his arms and she describes him in sensual terms (in a similar scene in Mockingjay, this storyline will close).  There are two small, equally important, separations that occur here.  First, she separates from him bodily, even as she steps into his embrace - from thinking of him as her other half, as being one person with her in the woods - and this causes her to look at him differently.  His body was familiar to her down to the sound of his heartbeat.  Now that they are parting, she actually feels his heartbeat, lean and hard-muscled.
So, there is potential between them here; it’s been sparked into being on the very last day of her normal life.  What happens with this awakening is that it becomes an early point of comparison between him and Peeta in her head.  Long before she allies with him and plays her part of the star-crossed lovers strategy, she sees Peeta through eyes that have been opened up by her new understanding of Gale: “... I push the whole thing out of my mind because for some reason Gale and Peeta do not coexist well together in my thoughts.” (THG Chapter 15)  That’s the moment she understands (on some level) that they are sexual rivals.
The other separation is the small crack that is now revealed between Gale’s and Katniss’ feelings about the arena (as she will later put it, theory that must be translated into actions).  Gale encourages her to embrace her ability to win the Games, citing her prowess as a hunter.  In a conversation that will become more weighted in MJ, he asks her how different it will really be to kill people instead of animals?  She admits that it won’t be - if she could forget that they are people.  Her “problem” is that she will not be able to do this.  And this argument will widen into a gulf between them later.
Just a quick aside for a line I never really noticed before, but grabbed me this time:  “We have to stand for a few minutes in the doorway of the train while the cameras gobble up our images.”
Headcanon about Haymitch.  Before diving into Chapter Four … what is my favorite headcanon about Haymitch?  Well … I think he was a very reluctant rebel.  Not that he wasn’t loyal to it when it came to him, but he’s not naturally a rabble-rouser, nor one who would necessarily choose to work in teams.  A drunk is a horrible liability to a secret organization; so much so, that sometimes I’ve contemplated that he really wasn’t.  But there is too much evidence to the contrary.  I do think that, having lost what he lost, he would have been perfectly content to drink himself into oblivion.    I think the prior winner from District 12 was probably a fairly early winner of the Games and died within a few years of Haymitch winning.  I think Haymitch made some game attempts to mentor his tributes for the first few years, but gave up when he sensed that he would never get a winner (and I think he was somewhat disgusted at never getting tributes who, like him, were “fighters”).   I like to think of Chaff as the person who saved Haymitch from full-on, disastrous carousing in the Capitol after his tributes were dead.
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everlarkficexchange · 5 years
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Unmasked ~ Nineteen
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Written by: ~ M ~
Prompt #88
Rating: E (Explicit) This fic will contain consensual sexual content; mild language; discussions of injuries, illness, and amputations in a historical setting; discussions of miscarriage; discussions of minor character suicide; references to non consensual sexual situations.
My thanks to the moderators of @everlarkficexchange for always running an entertaining event, and for playing along with a little fun and mystery. Also my thanks to everyone who offered up their inbox for submissions to give @javistg a break from posting so much from me. Please enjoy the nineteenth chapter of this adventure. Previous installments can be found here. Regards,
~ M ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~ Chapter 19 ~~
After a restless night, I am dreading breakfast. It feels as though I have lived a lifetime since yesterday, an eon since Peeta left Everdeen. Mary frets over me and how pale I am as she helps dress me. I drag my still tired body down the stairs and into the breakfast room. Madge and I will need to visit Johanna to see to her bandages, and that means I will need a hearty meal to fortify me.
My mind still grapples with the matter of hiding Johanna here at Everdeen and all of the details she revealed to me. A brush fire on the battlefield as Peeta tended to her, a drummer — So then it was while he was caring for Johanna that he was scarred. An enemy soldier attacking them and —
My stomach revolts unexpectedly and I pause, reaching a hand out to steady myself on a convenient piece of furniture in the hall.
She said that Peeta cut the man the way you slaughter a pig. It should not surprise me, this knowledge that my husband who served in the infantry was required to kill a man.
Like slaughtering a pig. With no emotion in her voice. I have seen pigs and chickens slaughtered for the table, I have felled deer and other game. It is a cold, emotionless task. It almost need be, otherwise one would starve. With deer, sometimes the arrow or the musket ball is not enough for a kill. I myself have needed to wield a knife to slice a throat. Yet as I attempt to imagine doing so to a man…
I see eyes. Eyes of so many I have called friend, family, love. And I can imagine no further. The one time my father attempted to teach Primrose how to hunt, she cried over the dead animal and begged him to take it home with us, claiming there was still a chance we might save the poor dear. He was still alive, Prim insisted. She could see it in his eyes! My father had closed the rabbit’s eyes and maneuvered my sister away from the sight, holding her and comforting her while I was left to deal with the task of skinning the beast. I can understand her trepidation now.
Then I think of that day in Aunt Effie’s garden, when Peeta drew a knife to withdraw thorns from my palm. The ease with which he wielded it. My head spins and I take a few deep breaths as I remind myself of the rest of what Johanna said. He was tending to a wounded patient and they were attacked. Mayhaps Peeta killed a man, but it would have been done in defense of himself and of her, for surely the other soldier would have killed them both had Peeta not acted swiftly.
Perhaps it is not the irrefutable knowledge that my husband has killed that upsets me, for I too have killed, albeit for utterly different reasons. They are not the same. Not the same at all. No, I wonder now if what troubles me most is the reconciliation of the gentle man I believe him to be with the callous picture Johanna described. I know my husband. He is no murderer and he is certainly not heartless. How then does he face the killing of another person in such proximity. Surely he must have seen the other man’s eyes? But then the other man must have seen Peeta’s as well.
I think then of the drawings, the way he describes the agony and anguish and guilt of war. Of losing someone in his care… How his drawings draw such focus to the eyes. It stands to reason that he feels a similar mix of terrible emotions in regards to those he was forced to kill.
The reminder helps calm the churning in my middle, enough that I am able to continue on to the breakfast room. I wonder though at my husband never telling me of this in all his confessions of the night. If I am honest with myself, I am upset that Johanna knows more of him than I. How much of that is owing to my newfound knowledge of her sex, I cannot be certain. It did not concern me much when I thought her a man. She has known him for years, she said, whereas I have only known him months.
Perhaps he sought to protect me from the horrors he has committed, or perhaps it disturbs him enough that he did not wish to speak of it. Perhaps we are simply not to the point where he feels at ease speaking of those moments with me. I resolve to do as he has done. Have patience and trust that he will tell me when he is prepared to trust me with this part of his past.
I sit at table and force some egg down my throat. The room is wretchedly quiet and unusually hot given that I am rather early, likely the first to rise today… until Primrose wanders in.
She halts in the doorway and runs her hands over the bodice of her dress. She is so lovely. Fresh as morning dew and beautiful as the rose for which she was named. Her words last night, however, taint the air between us.
“Prim—“
“How is Joe?” Our words overlap and I turn my attention to buttering my toast. I am unaccountably famished for the level of queasiness I feel. Food is simple, usually, and so I keep my eyes on that as I speak.
“He will be fine. Madge and I will see to his wounds. He sends his apologies for his harsh words last night.”
“He was in a great deal of pain, no doubt. Sometimes we are more harsh than we intend to be when we are in pain… are we not?” Prim says this softly and I glance over at her as she fills her plate.
“Yes. I suppose sometimes we are.”
“Katniss, I am…I must apologize. My words yesterday—“
“I mean only to protect you. I do not want you to feel that you have settled in your marriage.”
“Have you settled?” She asks, turning to the table with sparks in her eyes.
“At first I thought I did,” I admit to her. “I did not wish to marry at all, I thought. But I was fortunate. It is a great turn of luck that while my hand may have been forced into marriage, I could not have asked for a better husband. I wished for you to be free as I was not to choose your husband.”
She makes a strange noise and flounces to the table, sitting with an uncharacteristic lack of grace. “Then why can you not trust me to know my own heart and the strength of Rory’s character?”
“Perhaps because you speak so little of him.”
“You did not wish to hear.”
“I do now, Little Duck.”
Primrose arranges her skirts suddenly, perfectly delicate and ladylike. I smother a smile as I think of what Johanna might say of my sister this morning.
“I am not certain it matters now,” she says forlornly.
“Is that the only thing he said on the matter of your season? That it was for the best?” She nods and sniffles. I sigh to myself. “It is not much to go on. Is it possible he meant only that were you to have a season, it would strengthen your feelings for him, at least the certainty of them. If you are truly meant to be with Rory, then a few suitors would not change this. You’ve not interacted with a great deal of gentlemen.”
Primrose considers this as she begins to eat. “I suppose it possible. I would need to be careful in my wording when I ask him if that is what he intended.”
“Perhaps consult with Madge on this, as she seems to have a more delicate way with both words and men than I,” I suggest and she nods, seemingly resolved. I ask her again to tell me of him and listen as she speaks. She paints a rather rosy picture of the man, and while I am glad that she seems to have such tender feelings for her suitor, I cannot help but think that he sounds too good to be real. I do not mention that she has drawn most of her conclusions from his letters. Words are fine things and quite important, but it is our deeds and actions that truly make a marriage.
Slowly, the household awakens. Tasks await me, and I leave the breakfast room shortly after Madge and Maysilee enter it. Although, I am pleased when Prim rises to walk out with me. I do not wish strife between us.
A dizziness sweeps over me as we walk and I once more must use the furniture to steady myself.
“Katniss?” Prim asks as I close my eyes to halt the room from spinning. “Katniss are you unwell?”
“Only tired,” I tell her as she touches me. I draw strength from the contact although I still feel faint.
“Are you certain you do not wish me to see to Joe? You never had much stomach for such things.”
“Nay,” I say and she lifts one brow before leaning close to me.
“You know… I am quite good at keeping secrets.” I stare at her and mull over the weight of her words. Truthfully, her care would be much better for Jo. I could manage, but Prim is a budding, brilliant healer in her own right. The more I think of facing bandages and wounds not yet healed, the worse I feel.
Yet…Johanna has only grudgingly trusted me with her secret. “I have promised to see to him, and he is Peeta’s friend. This task falls to me, Little Duck.”
“Oh very well,” Prim says, and huffs but leans close once more. “At least allow me to make some ginger root tea for you. You look positively green.”
“Green?” I ask and she nods. “Yes, that might be just the thing I need.”
She smiles at this and helps me towards the study. I see to a few tasks and sip the tea when Primrose brings it to me. It does soothe the roiling in my middle. Shortly after the nausea dissipates, so does the feeling of being overheated, just in time for Madge to join me. We gather what supplies we will need, and ride out to the cottage where Jo lives.
“Well I think you for not having the esteemable Mr. Crane visit me,” Johanna says as she opens the door before moving stiffly back to the bed.
Her cottage is humble but tidy. A bottle of orange and bergamot scented oil warms by the fire, one of the products of this very farm. Shirts await mending in a basket and a simple breakfast of egg and roll sit half eaten on a platter next to the chair. There are no delicate or personal touches to denote who lives here, save for the wide brimmed hat Johanna usually wears.
“I would not wish his sermons on my worst enemy,” I mutter as Madge directs Johanna to remove her shirt and lay on her stomach.
“I’d wager your ears burn right off when he starts in talking lust and carnal sins. Do those feel aimed at you, Kitten?” I glare at her and Madge hushses her. “S’nothing to be ashamed of. Every man is considered virile for his urges. Why shouldn’t we? How else does one get in the family way?”
“By laying back and just holding on until it’s over,” Madge suggests and Johanna snorts.
“Children are work enough on their own. Making them ought to at least be enjoyable as consolation. I’ve been fortunate in that regard on both ends. Plenty of enjoyment, no children. And you have too, haven’t you, Mrs. Mellark?” I smile at her and saw away at her bandages along the sides. “Hey! Watch it!”
“Oh I am so sorry, Johanna,” I purr and she scowls at me but then starts laughing.
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After we have seen to Johanna and return to Everdeen, the daily post brings happy tidings for both Everdeen sisters.
For Prim, a letter from Mr. Rory Hawthorne, adamantly expressing regrets over his hasty words and clarifying that he only meant that Prim deserves a season and a chance to be certain of whom she wishes to marry.
“A season full of suitors praising you will in no way diminish my affections for you, and I greatly regret that my last may have given the impression of such,” she reads aloud to Madge and I during a quiet moment. “My feelings will hold steady and patient. Although, I confess that I will be among the first in line, begging a dance or calling for tea, lest you forget me in all the attentions sure to be heaped at your toes.”
While I still hold my doubts in regards to Mr. Hawthorne, the letter does much to soothe my fears for my sister.
As for my fears in regards to my own marriage, a letter arrives from Peeta as well to soothe those. I pocket it and save it for a private moment. I barely manage it with the festival still ongoing, the noises of dancing and happy laughter a backdrop as I stand in a quiet spot, beneath a lantern as the day fades to evening, a brilliant sunset painted across the sky in his favourite shade of orange. I drink in the sight and then scan my husband’s words, smiling and blushing at the opening salutation:
My Darling Wife:
He continues, assuring me that he has arrived safely and fortunately timed, as his friend is most in need of Peeta’s assistance and is grateful for the pair of men who chose to accompany him. I smile at his descriptions of his friend, the farm on which they now labor, and even the men of Everdeen bringing songs from home to the new fields. Other words, however, concern me.
Nights are lonely without you, my pearl. The mattress here is too soft and wide without your warmth. The empty space beside me invites terrible visions. I sleep now in a more rough manner, as I did when my life was ruled by drum beats, the rattle of sabers, and musket fire. On the floor if the nights grow cold, outside beneath the stars and moon should they be balmy. Even then, the sight of the heavens keeps you with me, knowing the same stars I stare upon as I seek refuge in sleep watch over your own nights and dreams. It seems to help for now, as though the return to the routine of sleeping thus banishes the lingering effects of that life.
I close my eyes and send my thoughts across the miles to him, hoping he might feel that I am with him, caring for him, loving him, longing for his return. His words do little to soothe my fears for him as they carry such a sadness to them. Save for the final paragraph, which I know I shall read again and again over the coming days.
I can only hope that our parting moments have not tarnished your opinion of me. I acted in such a base manner, taking advantage of the night and our parting, succumbing to the temptation to treat you so. I beg a thousand pardons from you for my roughness. I am indeed the brute you accused me of, as I must confess that as guilty as I feel for my lack of gentility in those moments, I think of them near constantly, with a powerful fever in my blood. The effect you have on me…my wife, my love, precious pearl…Katniss, I cannot even describe it save to say that every ounce of me longs to return to you, to hold you in my arms and feel your breath upon my neck, your hands…well those I would wish wherever you choose to place them. And indeed, I even long to perhaps repeat our parting moments, albeit in a more gentle manner suitable to your comfort. For now, I must work and hope that I have not destroyed what fragile foundations we have so carefully built together. Until I return to you, I remain…
Your ever loving husband,
~Peeta~
He apologizes. He apologizes for a thing I cannot regret. A thing I think of near constantly as well, also with a frightening fever in my blood that I’ve no idea how to quench without him. I do not know how to tell him that I too am filled with longing. For him. For his return.
I feel as though I hold his very soul with this parchment, much as I do when I peruse his sketches. I envy his ability to so easily express himself and curse my own reticence to reciprocate. Even writing out I love you, Peeta angers me. So hollow compared to the picture he paints with the words in his letters. I crumple the thing into a ball and toss it to the flames.
That does no good in quenching the fever taken hold of me either.
I  haven’t his gift for words and can only hope that my scrawled missives might convey my feelings back to him. They seem so paltry compared to his, my letters short scraps of news or remarks on the weather, the festival. I do not know how to convey the depth of my feelings on such thin paper. Not even the ink seems thick enough to carry the right tone, and yet he manages the feat.
The days proceed. Most days bring with them a letter from Peeta. Whenever they arrive, I savor them, drinking in his words, reading them three times or more, until I think perhaps I have an adequate response to send. Adequate but I fear not enough.
Each morning when I wake, I fight fatigue and nauseau. I request the ginger root tea and keep my theories to myself for now. I pass a day waiting for my courses that never arrive, and then another. I begin to hope in the absence – the absence of both Peeta and my monthly cycle – but heeding Madge’s counsel, I hold that knowledge close my heart until I can be certain.
In the meantime, I add his letters to my book, in place of his morning sketches. I dream of that night, and of all the others. That night for which he apologized. Apologized as though I could feel debased or shamed by what we shared. A thing that has led me to a sin most grievous, I fear. My hands now wander in the night as I dream of him and attempt to recreate his touch. He apologizes while I cling to the hope of certainty – the certainty of our happiness should I be correct in my hopes that I am with child. Some days it near destroys me, and then the post arrives.
My mother notes my tea preferences and smiles, soft and content. When my father asks her what has her so pink and lovely, she assures him that it is nothing. Simply the brightness of a fair morning and the pleasure of having two contnent daughters, a bountiful harvest.
After breakfast that day, she requests a moment of my time and embraces me.
“How late?”
“Nearly six days now,” I tell her and she kisses my temple.
“I will have Joe exercise Sagittaria for you.” I blush hotly at that. Johanna will surely know why, but I do not contradict my mother’s bidding. “In a few weeks, we will send for the doctor. Does Peeta know?”
“Not yet,” I tell her and she leans back to caress my cheek.
“Are you pleased?” I manage a nod and then bury my face in her bosom when she embraces me again. Now if only I could summon the courage to tell him how I feel. I should think it would be easier through ink and paper and yet I have had no success with it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I huff angrily in the afternoon sunshine one day, tapping the end of my quill on the desk. Only four days remain in our separation and I have yet to write a satisfactory letter to him. Only the short, rather impersonal things one might send to a cousin or mere acquaintance. Worse, his grow more removed every day. It is as though he slips further away from me the longer I am unable to convey my feelings.
Madge walks by the open study door, her laughter clear and beautiful. Maysilee dances along behind her, singing a silly song, twirling and losing her balance, grasping hold of her mother’s skirts to keep from falling.
Such courage they have in acting as their true selves. Maysilee fears no judgement in her imaginings and games. She finds joy with no caution to temper it. And Madge… Even in her secrets and her scandalous affair, my friend found the courage to seize her desires. Such courage Johanna has in leaving everything familiar to her and building a life of her own, free of the shackles but also the security of her parents.
Such courage it must have taken Peeta to open his heart to me every step of our marriage.
I sit straight and gather my own courage. Perhaps I have not been as brave as I could wish, but I shall begin now. I can be brave with Peeta. He will not discard my heart carelessly. I think of all our nights in the kitchens, in front of the fire, beside the lake, and in the arms of their comforting memories, I write.
My Darling Husband,
This letter should have made its way to you a week past, and yet I struggled to find the courage to put my thoughts to words. I beseech you to sleep in peace, or have you forgotten my requirements of you? I would hate for your lack of caring for your own person to dim our pending reunion. Your apologies are unnecessary and rather insulting. I am made of stronger stuff, as you know. A brute in the night, as long as he has your gentle touch in the day, is nothing for me to fear and nothing for you to regret.
I read back over my words and blush. Fan myself as it has grown quite hot in this room. That is quite enough sentiment, I decide and charge onward with one of my more regular litanies of ongoings at home. I manage one more thing I likely should have mentioned in an earlier letter. A subtle hint that I have come to know his companion, Joe, quite well in his absence. I hear shouts in the hall and hurry to finish.
Until you return home to me, I remain
Your loving wife,
Katniss
“Katniss! Horses! In the lane!” Prim shouts, pausing in the doorway as I sign my name. She smiles at me and I stand. It is good to see this side of her again. Smiling and happy, eager to greet visitors. I am glad of it and leave my letter to finish sealing later.
“We are not expecting the Hawthornes yet, are we? Or perhaps Mr. Rory Hawthorne wishes one more chance to woo you before the season begins,” I tease and she shakes her head.
“Perhaps they shall visit in spring.”
I follow her giddy pace down the hall, as quickly as I can manage as I feel a bit ill at the moment. I rest a hand on my middle and will the feeling to abate. Through the window, I catch sight of man still mounted on a horse. His shoulders and back a familiar, broad shape, encased in a dark green coat. He removes his hat and my breath hitches at the blonde curls that gleam in the sunshine.
“Peeta,” I whisper and hasten my footsteps.
He is home! He is home early! My heart races as I grab hold of my skirts and overcome Prim, through the open doors. A chestnut prances nervously as he announces himself to the footman.
It is the wrong horse.
I halt and Prim collides with me. My smile vanishes.
“Ah! There she is! Mrs. Mellark, do tell these chaps that I am your brother now.”
“Sir Robert,” I manage to say and his strained smile smoothes out. It is then that I notice Delly on a mare at his side. I manage a curtsy to the pair of them.
“Indeed! We came ahead of the coach with our things. It should be here shortly. Surely my brother told you of our intent to visit?” he says and manages to steady his horse long enough to dismount, sweeping into a bow directed at me.
“He did not.”
“Oh,” Robert’s smile falters for a moment and then returns brighter than ever. “I did send word.”
I was almost married to this man. The thought leaps up and claims my attention, unbidden and strangely…unpleasant, and I cannot help but wonder if the last time I saw him, was he proposing to me from behind a mask of lies or was he kissing me from behind a mask of plaster and paint and more lies?
“Peeta is not here presently,” I say, the joy I felt only moments ago now cracks across my chest, in an unnameable mixture of emotions. My head spins and I feel slightly faint as I fight against the very real and evident feeling that I might disgrace myself and purge my stomach of its contents right here on the steps. “I have sent his post on to him.”
“Ah, then the news was lost in the time of transfer no doubt.” He turns to help Delly from her horse and then strides up the stairs and straight to my sister, taking her hand and once more bowing, clearly confident that he will not be turned away, despite the lack of notice. “The lovely Miss Primrose Everdeen, I presume. Indeed your sister has not exaggerated your beauty. Such lovely sisters, I feared my memory might have played tricks but lo! You are as radiant as I recall.”
The last is spoken directly to me, with eyes and teeth shining in a flattering smile. A traitorous flutter disrupts my pulse, although I manage to control it quickly. He still holds my sister’s hand. His wife only now joins us.
“Katniss?” Prim asks and I glance at her wide eyed expression.
“Sir Robert Mellark,” I manage to croak. “Peeta’s half brother.”
“Come now, we are family, Katniss! You will not allow me my fun? You must introduce me as his twin brother!”
I ignore his words and incline my head towards the door. “Primrose, please tell Sae that we have guests. Sir Robert Mellark and his wife.” She thankfully does not question, although the current of unease must be plain to her. She extricates her hand from Sir Robert’s and hurries inside.
“Yes! My wife. She claims to have met you before.”
“Indeed we have met. ‘Tis good to see you again, Delly,” I say and find that I mean it.
“We are not causing you trouble?” Delly asks with a lovely, happy smile that I remember quite well.
As much as this churning, confusing feeling inside me makes me wish to turn Sir Robert away, I know that I cannot deny Peeta’s family a visit, and I would not dream of being rude to Delly. She has done me no injury.
“No, of course not. It is only that Peeta will likely be gone another four days.”
“No matter! We will find plenty to amuse us in the meantime. I believe I caught sight of a harvest festival as we rode in?” Sir Robert says. I nod an affirmative and he offers an arm to Delly. “Excellent. I’ve not been to one in an age!”
“Then by all means, make yourselves at home,” I say, hoping that my words ring sincere, as I am not sure I can distinguish up from down as I follow the man I thought to marry and his wife into my home.
I pause in the doorway and turn back, holding one hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun, squinting through the light and the dirt. There is no other rider in the lane.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To be continued…Chapter 21 will post here on the @everlarkficexchange
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everlarkficexchange · 7 years
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Would this have happened anyway?
Written by: @florence68blog
Title: Would this have happened anyway?
Prompt 66: Would love to read a canon divergent fic that explores what Peeta says about “a lot of guys liking Katniss”. This could cover a lot of tropes: no games, arranged marriage, friends to lovers, or this would have happened anyway. Would love to see Katniss more open to her feelings and the possibility of love. Would love to see how Peeta would win Katniss over with more than just Gale as competition. [submitted by Anonymous]
Note: A work in progress (multichapter).
Summary:  The war ended when Katniss and Peeta were 16 years old. A couple of years have passed since the rebellion. Life in District 12 has changed quite a lot. Without the threat of hunger, the Reaping or death, Katniss and Peeta have become friends. Is there hope for something more?
“She is ideal for my young’un”, one could hear Mrs. Cartwright’s calculating voice. “Katniss turned into a real beauty. Plus, their status improved since the pharmacy has been given back to them…”
After the morning rush, a few neighborhood women turn up at the bakery and exchange gossip with my mother on Sundays during the business lull. In the meantime I am in the kitchen and prepare bread for the afternoon crowd. Usually, I zone out and don’t listen to the malicious stories and the caustic comments of those joyless women with nothing better to do. But her name captured my attention at once…
“Are you sure? For me, she will always be ‘Seam trash’”, my mother cut her off impatiently.
„Times have changed“, the butcher’s wife declared. „I myself wouldn’t mind either if she became my daughter in law. My son Jonas has had an eye on her as well. A huntress would be the perfect butcher’s wife“, she added, laughing.
 „My Daren is already a step ahead. He just ran over to the bakery to ask her out to prom“, Mrs. Cartwright threw in happily.
I started to pound the dough. My fingers are convulsing. No, it can’t be real. This is not happening. Not now… I am in love with her. For years I have been so. It is the worst-kept secret in the District. She is the only one who doesn’t have a clue about it.
When I think of my actual and as a matter of fact imagined history with Katniss, I divide it into three periods. The first one is the earliest period of childhood, when I was observing her in kindergarten, and then at school and in town, while she was strolling around in the company of her beloved father and her sister, with no worries on her mind. This Katniss exuded energy and radiated joy. For me, surrounded by an aggressive mother, a disinterested and coarse older brothers and an absent father, her family was the epiphany of all I’ve ever dreamed of, and Katniss the personification of happiness and safety. It was of some comfort to know that something like that existed. It yielded hope that it was indeed possible to reach these heights – with Katniss, of course. Even if she didn’t know that I existed, for me that phase of our relationship, in fact a one sided and imaginary one, was a beacon of hope that let me survive in the unhealthy environment of my own family.
It all changed after the sudden death of Katniss’ father in the coal-mine explosion. Once merry, his well cared for and sheltered daughter was devastated and left to her own devices. Her mother’s depression left her unprotected and forced her to take care of her younger sister at a time when she was a child herself. I observed how she slowly faded, hungry, weak and concerned – the peak of her helplessness being when she literally gave herself up and, under an apple tree, in the rain, waited to die. The fear of her not making it through the night made me take action. I, who (like father like son) have always avoided conflict, tried to not stir trouble and avoided to tempt my mother’s wrath, let the bread burn that evening on purpose and instead of feeding them to the pigs, as my irascible mother had directed me to, I threw the buns to Katniss. As was to be expected, my mother decided to cover my entire body in bruises; some even adorned my face and threatened to expose my parents’ questionable child-rearing methods to the public. Nevertheless, deep inside, I was hoping that Katniss would at least greet me next day at school; it didn’t surprise me when she ignored me. Still, I did manage to catch her glance, which flew right across me and focused on the dandelion which erupted from the holes in the asphalt at my feet…
In the following couple of years, I continued watching her from afar. Every once in a while, I caught her glance and built impossible and pointless plans regarding our future together. Katniss lost the appearance of a weakened, persecuted animal. Her movements became steady and quick and her glance clear and confident. The only thing missing was her old smile and a certain lightness of being. Soon it became clear that Katniss had started hunting in the forbidden woods outside of the district borders. She then sold the game or traded it for goods. My father was a regular customer, to the great dismay of my mother, who did not forget that my father’s first and probably only love had been Mrs. Everdeen.
At that time my mind was greatly preoccupied with Gale, officially her hunting partner, and unofficially – if you believed the rumors – her boyfriend. Their behavior in public did not confirm these insinuations. On the contrary, Gale, who was every girl’s dream, whether from the Seam or the merchant section, tall, good looking, with olive skin, the movements of a panther (Deli’s words, not mine) and a facial expression that induced great respect, was a regular visitor of the so called ‘Slag Heap’, a place where class differences vanished and young men and women were looking for some pleasure and oblivion. If one is to believe my oldest brother, Asher, who was not able to mask his unhappiness and jealousy of Gale – for he was his main rival – he never showed up with the same girl twice. That encouraged numerous idiots to say ever more openly how Katniss is ‘attractive’, ‘hot’ and the ‘main heroine’ of their ‘wet dreams’. In those moments I was only capable of self-control because of the many years of practice in hiding my feelings from my mother. What I actually wanted was to grab these fools’ throats and hold them tight until they’ve forgotten that Katniss existed. Luckily, these comments, even the glances, were nipped in the bud by no one other than Gale. Patrick, a real swine and a member of my wrestling team stopped Katniss after school one day and suggested “to make her acquainted with his friend Dick at the Slag Heap”. He ended up being a boxing bag for the furiously agitated Gale, who happened to be nearby and heard it. No one dared to intervene, except for Katniss, who pulled Gale by the sleeve and commented lethargically: “You were supposed to let me finish off my prey, remember?” That made him stop for a moment; suddenly, the two of them laughed hard and set out for the Seam.
The image of the ferocious Gale was carved deep in the minds of the people that had been there and an embroidered story of the incident remained to serve as a warning to all potential suitors. That occurrence left me feeling conflicted. I was delighted that Gale’s action sent a loud enough message to all the young men in the District about how Katniss was out of limits. On the other hand, it was clear that she was very special to him and that she meant to him more than people generally assumed. Gale’s rating among girls rose even more, if that was even possible, which became my brother’s sore spot and allowed me to tease him about it for months. A general conclusion that Gale was having fun on the side, waiting for Katniss to grow up some more and be ready for a serious relationship, was formed and wiped the smile off my face immediately.
Right after my sixteenth birthday, strange things began to happen. On the streets, unfamiliar faces started to show up, and head peacekeeper Cray died all of a sudden, allegedly from a heart attack. No one cared to inform the Capitol about it and Darius took his place. It was an unusual choice, if you take into account that he is my oldest brother’s peer. Haymitch appeared in town, sober and on the alert. The deliveries of the ingredients for the bakery were late at first and then stopped coming altogether. Unexpectedly, my father turned out to be quite untouched by that. The customers didn’t complain about it too much either.
During the course of April, Darius announced that, for the first time ever, a spring festival would be organized one week prior to the Reaping ceremony. The preparation was an occasion for numerous meetings of the more prominent representatives of the Merchant circle at the office of Mayor Undersee. In passing, I would sometimes see Haymitch in a seemingly casual conversation with Gale, Thom and some other young miners. A few times, he even stopped to speak with Katniss. For someone who has spent years of his life drunk and isolated in the Victor’s Village, Haymitch was unusually sober and present-minded. All of these suspicious signs that pointed toward something big happening could not hold my attention. Just like every year, when Reaping Day drew closer, I fell into a state of inexpressible fear. I worried about myself, my brother Marek, whose last Reaping this was, my friends, but my greatest fear and paralyzing thought was always: “What if they draw Katniss, just not her, no, everyone but her.” And this year, it was her sister Primrose’s first Reaping. For Katniss it was clear as day that she didn’t have any reason to worry about Prim. If necessary, she was ready to take her place. For me it meant that my fear that year should double. Fortunately, it proved to be unnecessary.
The last day of April began at dawn, when in the entire District, warning sirens resounded. My father ordered us in an imperious tone to put on our clothes quickly and leave at once. Unexpectedly he overrode my mother’s complaints and declared with an authoritative voice: “Let’s move!” Without a word, all of us followed him in the general direction of the woods. On the way, we met neighbors who quickly and silently walked into the same direction. At the end of the road from which a small path led through the grove towards the electric fence, Katniss was standing, armed with a bow and arrows.
She took over our group and led us through the woods to a camp that was a two hour walk away from the District. There, we found out that the revolution has begun, that Snow has been killed, that District 12 hadn’t been destroyed like we all had assumed but that its inhabitants had hidden and had lived under the radar. They, armored and trained for battle, had been the key factor in the revolution. Haymitch was the leader of the Rebellion in our District; the entire Seam and the more prominent representatives of the merchant families have been included in the resistance movement. The citizens had been brought to the forest, just until we could see how all of it would play out. The spring festival had only been a cover to organize shelter, a way to store food supplies and other necessities. In this temporary camp, we have stayed for about ten days. After the assassination of the president, the revolutionaries occupied the Capitol, which, unprepared for attack, surrendered. Battles were taking place in the Districts 2, 3 and 4 for a few weeks, however Snow’s sympathizers were soon overcome. This has been a two-week long blitzkrieg. Our district didn’t suffer much damage. There were a few casualties, but mostly these were older people who refused to take shelter and then fell prey to the residual peacekeepers who remained loyal to Snow. Soon we returned to our homes and carried on with a more or less normal life. The only graspable, enormous change that brought relief upon everyone was the fact that the Hunger Games have been discontinued…
On that last day of camp, while I was watching Katniss, who organized the camp’s closure with Darius, Haymitch and Gale and made a plans for our return home, it became painfully evident to me how different the two of us were from each other. I, pathetic, a coward, a wimp, and she a brave, dignified warrior. Suddenly, I despaired at the crystal clear thought that never, not in any universe, she would be able to, not even in passing, focus her glance on me, not to mention be interested in me. From the female camp one could hear snorting and mumbling. Our schoolmates, who were altogether burning with jealousy of Katniss because of her looks and posture, and, above all, the inviolable position she held in Gale’s life, were particularly loud. The male camp was quite a different story. They regarded her with an admiration that did not diminish their wish to physically possess her, but was enriched with an entirely new desire to rule over her. I had the feeling that I would become sick while reading their expressions.
In order to collect my thoughts and calm down, I left the group somewhat and, leaning on a tree that shielded me from the others’ view, breathed in the fresh morning air with closed eyes. A sudden, gentle touch of a hand made me flinch. Next to me was Katniss, she asked me softly: “Peeta, are you alright?” Oh my God, not only did she address me directly and on her own accord, probably for the first time in her life, but she also called me by my name.
And at that moment, the third phase of my relationship with Katniss Everdeen began, the one in which she really acknowledged my existence, talked to me from time to time and carried herself toward me in a friendly manner…
The events in the District and entire Panem have changed the life of the Everdeen family very much. Mrs. Everdeen’s father had died from a heart attack in the revolution. The District’s administration had then relocated her mother to a small one-story house and set a monthly pension for her, while the house and pharmacy she had been in were inherited by Mrs. Everdeen. Everybody was talking about how that must have been Haymitch’s doing, because the pharmacist never would have let his business be taken over by his outcast daughter. When, one morning, I left the bakery to see what the hustle in the adjacent house and garden was all about, I saw Prim, who told me that she would work at the pharmacy and that they were moving into the house. I didn’t want to miss this opportunity and offered her my help at once. She and I were very similar, and not only in the physical sense, considering that Prim had inherited her mother’s merchant looks. We were both talkative, candid and merry. We soon became friends, and when Katniss saw for herself that Prim was safe with me, she began embracing our new ideas and projects with a tiny smile and a twinkle in her eyes and even took part in them – from our medicinal-edible garden, which we prepared in the backyard, to painting the walls of Prim’s room. The neighborly connections turned swiftly into a friendship. We often walked to and from school together. When the gardening work or some other little thing I was helping Prim with took longer than expected, Mrs. Everdeen would ask me to stay for dinner. With time, Katniss fully let herself go in my presence and took part in the conversations, even initiated get-togethers…
I believed I was close to my goal. As if it hadn’t been enough that Gale was always nearby, even though Prim claimed that they were just friends, half of the male population at school decided that this was the best moment to take action and conquer Katniss. Well, this time, I wouldn’t let my cowardliness win. I took off the apron and set out. I resolutely opened the kitchen door that leads to the backyard and was flabbergasted when, in front of me, I made out Katniss.
“Hi! Um… I wanted to… Right now, there’s… I am…”
“Oh, hi. I just wanted to swing by. Prim said…”
“Yes, um… Okay then… I don’t want to hold you up…”
“Katniss, wait! I thought… I wanted to ask you…” Yes, I am that idiot who’s considered to be very eloquent. Luckily, she cut me off mumbling: “Do you want to go to senior prom with me?”
Some moments later, utterly confused, I’m taking the muffins out of the oven and freeze in the middle of a routine movement. Did I answer her? Did I accept the invite? Yes, sure, I did. Katniss and I are going to the prom. And she invited me! That has to mean something. Maybe she’s interested a little. Maybe she likes me a little after all. Or a lot? What if she asked me just to fend off all the idiots that are after her? Before I managed to destroy the next batch of muffins, Marek came into the kitchen whistling joyfully.
“What happened?”, he asked, worried, when he saw my red face.
“Nothing. Katniss has asked me to prom”.
“Isn’t that good news?”
“Hm. I’m wondering why she asked me?”
“Wow, everyone knows that she’s completely oblivious, but you too? What do you think why she is rejecting all the admirers, or why she is never going out with anyone? I thought it was clear to you that the ice queen of District 12 tends to turn into a puddle when you’re around”, Marek said jokingly. “Prim, Madge, Delly and I were taking bets on when the two of you would move from your dead spot. See to it that I win – I put my money on prom”. He slapped me on the shoulder and, with a smile, took off adding: “And I want to know all the details”.
For thirteen years, my eyes had followed her, I dreamed of her, rotated various scenarios in which she would notice me in my head and lived in a happy one-sided love story. And then one evening has changed everything. Senior prom turned into a perfect first date that I never would have even been able to imagine. It was real. At the risk of sounding girly (What else is new?), I will say that this was the beginning of my happily ever after. And no one will hear the details. Marek will have to settle for only winning his bet.
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everlarkficexchange · 7 years
Text
The Misunderstanding Part Three
Prompt 42: Everlark gets a puppy/kitten/other baby animal. Kill me with cuteness :) [submitted by Anonymous]
This is a wonderful prompt, I couldn’t resist…Prim reminded me of my sister at fourteen, she didn’t bring home a cat but a pigeon that when it looked at me it I got chills.
PS not betaed’ all mistakes are sadly mine.
Prompt 42: by @mega-aulover
Rated: G
The Misunderstanding Part Three.
PART 1, PART 2
August 1st, 1945
“What do you think Katniss?” Effie asked showing Katniss another bolt of flower printed fabric, it had pink flowers.
Katniss smiled politely the pattern was ghastly.  Her gray eyes looked out of the panes of the store front. The streets were busy with people.  Her Aunt dragged her to Elf, known as District Eleven. The land was once owned by the Panem Group, and divided into thirteen districts. The company was dissolved, but the small communities remained. Elf was bigger than their community and offered more shops.
Her Aunt was not satisfied with the fabric choices back home. She wanted to find the perfect shade of pink. Katniss had suggested her favorite color green. Her Aunt was mortified; green wouldn’t do for a wedding.
Peeta laughed at the way Katniss described the situation. Peeta was a pacifist and he shrewdly used his words to find solutions, something Katniss was not good at. From the moment she agreed to marry him on the fair grounds Peeta persuaded her. He enamored her with not just words but with actions. Peeta understood her in a way that only her father had.
He showed her how much he loved and treasured her. He even wanted her to study, to get a degree. Katniss was glad for him and her desire to be with him physically. Katniss glanced about the store a blush touching her cheeks. They were betrothed, and it was not uncommon for couples close to the wedding ceremony to engage in physical intimacy. She was very aware of how beautiful he was.
Katniss glanced at a small girl skipping rope to cool her heated cheeks.  She forced herself to think of something else.
The radio blared, Glenn’s Miller ‘In the Mood.’
Life in the United States was so vastly different from England. No one here knew the atrocities of war. No one knew the real terror of sirens. As was the practice in many communities across the United States, the Civil Defense Sirens, that would sound.  The practices were a calm affair, people proceeded to hide in their basements or their storm cellars for five to ten minutes, until the all clear was given.
In London when the sirens went of you had seconds to find shelter before you heard the high pitched whistle from a bomb being dropped from the sky.  People often went to the underground the railway.  The life Katniss had in the United States was hard but it was a blessing, she didn’t have to wake up to the horrors of destruction and war.
America truly was the land of opportunity.  She was a girl from a war torn country, and she was able to finish her schooling, and had taken the chance to forgive a remarkable boy whom she was madly in love with.
The door of the fabric shop rang, an older lady came in made a selection, took out her ration book, paid then left all the while Aunt Effie wavered between two bolts of fabrics.
Her Aunt hailed a salesgirl, “Excuse me but do you have something else, with more rose hues or pink?”
Katniss hid her grin as the young woman plastered a smile on her face.
It was noon, on a Wednesday. The radio gave news that Japan still did not want to surrender. The boys on the opposite end of the world were still at war. Katniss felt a pang for her friend Gale who was still on active duty.  His mother was worried, but she’d received a letter from him not so long ago. Letters from where Gale was stationed took a long time to arrive. The boys from the pacific front were slowly coming back home.  Peeta’s eldest brother Rye was sent home, he’d been convalescing in a medical unit when Germany surrendered, his plane had been shot down and he was fished out of the ocean by an English Destroyer. It gave Peeta and her, the ability to spend more time together.
These were strange times. The war forced the burgeoning youth to grow up quicker.  Of the two Mellark boys that went to war, only one came back. The eldest died in fight to take Guadalcanal.  Their mother passed away a year later. Peeta had to assume many responsibilities. They might have been eighteen but they felt like they were in their forties.  Katniss touched a pretty orange ribbon.  Peeta would like this she thought.
“What else do you have?” Her Aunt moved on from the bolt of fabric she was looking at.  Fabric was still being rationed even here in the United States every resource went into the war effort.  So finding pink was hard. “Oh dear,” her Aunt huffed as she tsked away, “This shall never do, Katniss what do you think?”      
Katniss wanted to smack her head against the wall. She’d been engaged one month and her Aunt was driving her bonkers. “Aunt Effie, I’m not sure pink is going to work, for the wedding since we’re having it in October.”
“Nonsense, this is going to be a big, big, day,” Aunt Effie patted Katniss cheeks, “and pink is always suitable for any occasion.”
Katniss wondered if her Aunt would ever come to understand just how much she detested pink. The young salesgirl gave Katniss a sympathetic smile.
Her Aunt never had children, she was not an old woman she was in her thirties but after years of trying it wasn’t very likely she’d be able to have any. When Katniss and Prim arrived in her Aunt took them under her wing and loved them as her own. Aunt Effie even took care of their mother, helping her get some of her old life back. Her mother took a few refresher courses in nursing, and now was volunteered with senior citizens in a nursing home. 
Currently their mother was away in a spa near the Jefferson Pools, a Christmas gift from their Aunt and Uncle.   Katniss was beholden to her Aunt and Uncle, and loved them immensely.  It’s what got her in this mess in the first place. Effie was out of control.
Katniss wanted something simple wedding, a nice dress, some flowers, a cake made by Peeta, and perhaps a lovely lunch at home. Her Aunt wanted to make it a grand back yard affair, which gave Katniss a headache. She hadn’t time for anything or anyone, including Peeta. She hadn’t seen him in over a week.
“You’re right it is too bright.” Aunt Effie shook her head. Defeated she left the store. Katniss followed her behind.  Her feet hurt, from crossing the cobbled streets of Elf.
“Oh Katniss I want to make your weeding to Peeta, the most splendid of all weddings, but I can’t seem to find anything.”
“Aunt Effie, I know you want everything to be splendid, but don’t you think wedding is two months away don’t you think we should do something small and intimate. I don’t want a big kafuffle.”
“Nonsense my dear, you and Peeta deserve the best,” her aunt waved her wrist in a circle. She looked down the street, “I suppose we should head home, since our mission was incomplete.”
Katniss was relieved. They hurried and checked out of the hotel. They manage to catch next train, it looked they’d be home that evening. Katniss was looking forward to seeing Peeta. He was at station waiting for her.
“Hey there baby,” Peeta greeted.
She didn’t like to be called baby, but she was so happy to see Peeta she let it slip, “Hello.”
She wanted to kiss him, but with her Aunt right behind her Katniss didn’t dare. Her Aunt was a prude. He took her hand and squeezed gently. “Miss. Effie, why don’t I carry these to the car,” Peeta offered.
“Oh yes, thank you,” her aunt blushed. They got inside the car, her Aunt let Katniss sit in the front while she sat in the backseat. Peeta drove toward the farm.
“Mr. Abernathy had a meeting tonight at the JusticeBuilding.  He asked me to pick you up at the station.”
“Thank you,” her aunt slipped her gloves on, “perhaps you both would like to have some time alone.”
Peeta winked at Katniss, “I have plans to take Katniss to the pictures, to see Anchors Aweigh.”
“Oh, I heard that is a phenomenal film,” Aunt Effie answered.
Katniss glanced at Peeta’s profile he was handsome, and she wanted to get her hands all over him. She didn’t understand the magic he held over her. It was like something within her became awake, like a hungry starved beast that’d never been fed. His hand snuck across the seat and took hers. He held it through the journey, and when they arrived at the farm Peeta helped put their suitcases in the house.
He got in the car. “Alone at last,” Peeta grinned wolfishly.
“We’ve already seen Anchors Aweigh,” Katniss grinned, “Where are you really taking me?” Peeta was always surprising her with little outings or trinkets.
“To the place this community is named after,” Peeta whistled.
Their District was known as Meadowvale. Now that the fair was over with, the meadow once more became the spot for lovers to go park. She clenched her legs together, in pure excitement. Katniss was eager, she kissed him.
“You’re an eager-beaver tonight?” He touched her face.
“I haven’t seen you in a week,” Katniss said leaning in to kiss him.
“Nope, come on doll face I’ve got plans for you.”
Katniss reluctantly nodded. Peeta took out a blanket and a picnic basket, they settled in the tall grass. She was hungry but not for food and she pushed him on to the blanket and straddled his waist, “Food can wait.”
Peeta laughed but, he became quiet as soon as her lips touched his. Soft kisses and passionate words were exchanged, hands roamed over cloth covered body parts. Katniss smiled as she rested her head on Peeta’s chest.
“So your Aunt is still bent on having pink for the wedding?”
“Peeta I’ve tried everything possible to dissuade her. I don’t know what to do? I hate pink.”
Peeta chuckled, “I think I may have an idea.”
“What are you planning,” Katniss sat up. She didn’t trust the look on his face. It was the same face he had on the Ferris wheel.
“Nothing,” Peeta looked up at the sky, “The sun is setting.”
Katniss laid her head on his shoulder; it was nearly time to go home. Her eyes closed and when she opened them next she was in her bed, with her covers up to her shoulders. Her room was darkened but moonlight streamed in through her window. A gentle smile spread on her face. Peeta had put her to bed.
She turned onto her side and that’s when she saw the yellow glowing eyes peering at her from the dark corner. “AGGHHHHAHHHHAHAHHA!”
The thing jumped mid air. Katniss sprang out of her bed in the middle of the night and taking a pitcher of water she threw its contents at the beast.
The thing growled, “MRRRWROOOWWWWWW.” the moment the water hit it.
Katniss ran into the bathroom, and locked the door. She breathed heavily glad for the bathroom her uncle made for them. Not many people had bathrooms with tubs, sinks or toilets, but when Aunt Effie received Katniss letter form England, she demanded Haymitch have bathrooms installed in the girls rooms. 
When she and Prim arrived at their relatives’ farm, Katniss marveled at the sight of the indoor water-closet.  It was a lulu to find out she had a room of her own. In England she and Primrose shared a bed. They could only afford a chest for their clothing, they didn’t have much. Prim inherited her hand-me-downs and Katniss learned to make clothing for herself out of curtains and old tablecloths. When she came here she had two skirts, two button-down shirts, a jumper and three dresses that she’d made. One of which she wore on her on her voyage to America. She had no need of a wardrobe until she came to the United States.  
“KATNISS,” she heard her Uncle and Prim call at the same time as the door of her room thrown open. The light was turned on followed by her Uncle’s laughter. 
“Oh Buttercup,” Katniss heard her sister exclaim, “What has Katniss done to you?”
Katniss opened the door timidly to see her sister holding a hideous orange beast. It was a battered, thing with muddy fur and eyes the color of rotting mush. One ear looked like it had been bit off, and now thanks to her it looked drowned.  “What is that?”
“This is my cat, Buttercup.”
“She’s ugly,” Katniss shook her head in disbelief.
“Buttercup is a boy.” Prim soothed the wet cat by scratching it behind the ear. “I found it in the field behind our house yesterday.” Prim held the orange beast as if was a baby.
The thing growled at her and hissed at Katniss. She narrowed her gray eyes, “What is it doing inside of the house?”
“I rescued it, Uncle Haymitch let me have it.”
 Katniss eyes flew to her Uncle, “Really.”
Her Uncle Haymitch nervously scratched behind his neck, “Ah good night girls, I think I hear Effie calling me…good night.” He quickly left.
“That thing attacked me,” Katniss pointed.
 “You tried to drown him,” Prim smartly answered.
“We can’t keep that cat here,” Katniss stood arms akimbo and she stomped her foot impatiently. “We live on a farm, that cat will chase the chickens, eat the eggs.”
Prim turned her nose in the air, “Aunt Effie said he’s going to be a great mouser.”
Katniss laughed. “Mouser,” could help the way her shoulders shook with mirth.
The cat growled, and Katniss swore the unsightly thing bared it’s teeth at her. 
“There, there Buttercup, Katniss is just tired and cranky,” Prim said in a soothing voice as she gently petted Buttercup. It cried like a helpless kitten as her sister left her bedroom.
Katniss rubbed her eyes, and closed her door ready to go back to sleep. She muttered, “Dumb cat,” as she snuggled back into her bed.  The next morning she trudged downstairs to the kitchen.  She had dark circles under her eyes, from lack of sleep. She also discovered what Prim’s little monster was doing inside of her room.
Katniss walked into the kitchen to see her Aunt sitting drinking her coffee with Prim sitting on the floor petting the fowl feline. The cat stopped eating its food to hiss at Katniss.
Katniss scowled at the cat. 
“Prim your cat chewed my loafer,” Katniss said with the shoe in hand.
“Aunt Effie, Katniss blew a fuse and nearly drowned my poor cat,” Prim complained.
“Keep it out of my room Prim, that’s all that I ask.”
“Buttercup doesn’t like the way you’ve treated it.”
“You’re lucky I don’t cook your cat Prim,” Katniss narrowed her eyes.
Prim took up her cat, “Don’t listen to her she’s just edgy, about her wedding.”
“Oh! Dear Katniss, your face!” Aunt Effie cried, “What happened to your face!”
“I’m knackered,” Katniss shrugged.
“These dark circles under your eyes will not do.” Aunt Effie held Katniss chin. She chided “What have you been doing?”
“I haven’t slept well and the past few days have been hard work planning the wedding.”
Before her Aunt could answer, her Uncle Haymitch said, “Effie the kid needs a break, she works on the farm, then spends her nights with you doing wedding stuff and knowing you, you’ve run her ragged while you girls were away.” He put down his paper.
 Katniss watched the cat purr in her sister’s arms, she couldn’t understand how her sister could love such an ugly thing.
“Good Morning,” Peeta said from the screen, his hat in his hand.
“Hi-de-ho Peeta,” Prim greeted from the floor. 
Haymitch invited, “Come in, boy.”
“Peeta,” she greeted and tried to keep her blush from her face.
 “Hi Prim,” Peeta stepped into the house, “Hey whose this?”  He got on one knee.
 “This is Buttercup,” Prim sounded as proud as a mother with her newborn.
Katniss expected the cat to scratch Peeta’s eyes out instead it lept into his arms purring. “Oh, you’re a great kitty.”
 “Kitty, more like rotten flee-bag.” Katniss scowled at the cat who then hissed back at her.
 “See there she goes again,” Prim accused. “Peeta she nearly drowned him.”
 “I did not,” Katniss narrowed her eyes at her sister. “He attacked me, I threw water at him last night to defend myself!”
 “Pish-posh Katniss, he’s in desperate need of a home and we are the type of family Buttercup needs.” Katniss watched in disbelief as her aunt picked up a piece of her precious bacon and fed it to Buttercup and scratch behind it the ears.
 “In my book, that thing probably has flees and who knows what else its lurking underneath that mangy fur of his.”
 Peeta jumped up and gave the cat back to Primrose, “I think Buttercup should be part of the wedding.”
 “Peeeetaahhh,” Prim breathed.
 Katniss shook her head no, but Peeta kept on talking. “He can be the best ring bearer and Prim, Katniss mentioned she wants you to be her maid of honor.”
 “Really, Katniss,” Prim’s face bloomed with hope.
 Katniss couldn’t say no. Not even to the beast that was going to make an appearance in her wedding. “Peeta and I wanted to tell you together.”
 Prim launched herself at Katniss. “Thanks sis and I know Buttercup is going to make the best ring bearer.”
 “I have great news, about what we spoke about yesterday.” Peeta smiled.
 “And,” Katniss said anxious to hear what he came up with.
 “I’ve asked my pen pal Portia from New York for guidance about where to find the perfect pink shade, and asking for ideas.”
 “Oh my dear I know finding the right shade is near impossible.” Aunt Effie hand flourished in the air before she picked up her cup of coffee.
“You told me about Portia, she’s works in Gimbels.” The only reason Katniss knew about the New York store was because her Aunt spoke about incessantly.
 “Oh Gimbels is where Haymitch took me to purchase my wedding dress. Remember Haymitch?”
“It was like yesterday,” Haymitch said from behind the newspaper.
 “Portia suggested, since the wedding is in the fall, I thought we’d make it into a fall theme. You know reds, oranges, greens. Orange is my favorite color and green is Katniss’s that way we’ll both be represented in the wedding. I drew a picture for you of what I want.” He produced an image of a green laurel with green and yellow flowers. “We can use the laurel motif through out the wedding, Katniss can put this in her hair, but I can draw and paint this and have our names in the middle.” 
 “Oh Peeta that is lovely, of course why didn’t I think about this.” Effie clapped her hands, “Katniss you are going to be the most beautiful bride I know it.”
 “That’s not all. You remember her boss Cinna is the window decorator, he is also a buyer.”
 “Yup,” Katniss nodded.
 “Well Portia and her boss Cinna has some time off coming up and he agreed to come down here and help with the wedding.”
 “Peeta are you sure!” Effie exclaimed.
 “He’ll sent his phone number so that you can call him Miss. Effie. He is most eager to speak with you, he also wants some pictures of the surrounding area, so that he can help design out the wedding is going to look like.”
 Effie had a smile on her face wider than the Grand Canyon. “This is going to be a big, big, day!”
Katniss smiled she was glad about the wedding but when she looked at Buttercup it ‘phft’ at her turned around and mooned her.  Katniss narrowed her eyes, she disliked the fur ball immensely but there was nothing she could do about it, it was now in the wedding. 
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