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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

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Summary: At the Seventy-Fourth Reaping for The Hunger Games, volunteering is outlawed, thanks to a tribute four years prior. Because of this, when Katniss’ sister Prim’s name is chosen from the bowl, there’s nothing she can do but hope that Peeta Mellark, past victor and now Prim’s mentor, can somehow bring her sister home alive. (Obviously heavy on Everlark.)

AN: Hi! I don’t really have a big author’s note or anything--at least, I don’t think I do? We’ll see how long this trails on--but this is one of the fics I’ve been working on for a while. It’s multi-chaptered so there’s gonna be a lot more coming in the future, but this first chapter is honestly a little similar to the original book, with some (significant) deviations here and there, but after this first chapter, this story becomes extremely different from canon. I gotta thank, obviously, @rosegardeninwinter for a). making me my pretty lil banner and for b). reading the million, unpolished, unedited screenshots of my drafts that I’m sure ya’ll got tired of really quick. And also for encouraging me to write this in the first place. And also, I gotta thank everyone who liked and reblogged the lil story edit I posted months ago for this concept. It really encouraged me to write this concept out. (I’m talking about this edit right here if you forgot or never saw x). Okay, anyways, I’m talking too much but thank you! Also link to this story on AO3 [x].

Chapter One :

I stare out into the sky, introspective, as I wait for familiar footsteps to approach. The footfalls of my hunting partner, my friend even, Gale, still remain absent, despite our longstanding agreement to hunt on Reaping Day, no matter how hot it is, or how scarce the game, or how worried we may be deep inside.

Of course, how could a couple kids from the Seam not worry about Reaping Day? At least a slight bit, deep down?

Reaping Day. The day that decides the almost absolute fate of a lucky—as our assigned escort, straight from the Capitol itself, so proudly proclaims—boy and girl.

We're District Twelve. The smallest and one of the poorest districts in the country of Panem. There's an almost guarantee that whoever gets their name picked from the reaping bowl, even the strongest eighteen-year-old boy in the district, will have an almost sure fate of death. Likely before the number of tributes drops below twenty.

Tributes from our district almost never fare well inside the arena.

Almost never.

We have had a few winners in history, two of which are still around, but a few out of seventy-three games isn't inspiring much hope in anyone today.

The wind breezes against my arms, prickling the hair at the back of my neck, and I'm struck by the memory of being out here, in the forbidden territory of the woods, outside our district limits, when I was just a kid. When my dad was the one hunting and I was just along for the ride. Just along because I wanted to be with him. When I used to blindly trust him and my mother, when I thought he'd live forever, when I was too young to truly grasp the concept of the Hunger Games. When I was too young to truly grasp the concept of the world in which we live.

When I was eleven my every illusion was shattered violently. Almost as violently as the death in which my father must have endured, underground in those mines, as they exploded.

I remember hearing the alarm at school, blaring so cacophonously over the speakers that it shook the schoolrooms themselves. I remember blindly grappling through the scurrying bodies of my classmates, until I found my way to my little sister, Primrose. Her room was completely empty, but she still remained, sitting behind her desk with small folded hands, waiting for my arrival with excessive patience.

I'd always coached her on what we'd do, if there ever should be a mine accident. I made sure she knew the drill, just as I knew it. Like the back of my hand. Like a prayer or a lullaby. I could recite it in my sleep. Because my father had just as sternly instilled it into me.

I wove my way through the chaos of bodies and white-hot panic, towing Prim only inches behind me by the hand, as the kids from town lingered in the hallways, their classic, bright blue eyes large and their voices all quivering, and as the kids from the Seam dutifully made their way to the nearest exits, hoping and praying and begging silently that it wasn't their parent who had been hurt. Hoping the accident hadn't taken what was typically the sole provider in most households, here in the poorest section, in the most impoverished district.

Prim and I must have not hoped hard enough, because we learned almost immediately upon finding our mother, who was now immobilized with grief, her characteristic gentle smile eviscerated and in it's place, a blank stare, void of any life at all, that our every fear from hearing that alarm were coming true.

My mom was supposed to get a job. She was supposed to find a way to provide for us, to take care of her two daughters, who were grieving her husband just as much as she was.

But instead she lay in bed day after day. On the good mornings, maybe if Prim begged and pleaded, she'd move to a chair, in front of the fireplace and stare at the flames with the same vacant expression that had replaced the loving, kind woman who'd raised us.

The money from the government, the minuscule amount of money given to keep us afloat until our mother found work, ran out. The meat our father had hunted, the plants he'd saved, ran out. The food we had the small luxury of sometimes buying—or more times than not, trading for—quickly ran out.

And our mother still did absolutely nothing.

I take a deep breath now and try to force myself to forgive her. Forgive her for not being strong enough to keep going, forgive her for not caring enough about her own children to keep them alive in the face of her grief, forgive her for being so in love that losing my father had almost killed her too.

I know it's what my father would want. And I know it's something I can't let myself do. Because if I let her off the hook, it's like saying it's okay that she almost let Prim wither away to nothing. Forget me. I will never forgive her for almost taking my little sister away from me.

Our mother did absolutely nothing until Prim's ribs were prominent, until my stomach was nearly hallow, until our cheekbones were so blatantly obvious you could count them from down the road.

And all my fears, all my resolve, to keep the three of us together as a family, went out the window. There was nothing left to do, but wait for me and Prim to be taken to the Community Home, with the other orphans or kids from unsafe families. Kids who still remained too thin, who's eyes told stories no ear wanted to hear, who still wore bruises upon their skin like freckles from the sun, who looked nearly worse than the corpses I encountered every winter, while walking from the Seam to town. Those corpses were the unlucky ones who'd actually starved to death, who had sat down to merely rest, because they had no substance to carry them any further, and somehow never got back up.

On that day, at eleven years old, living in the Community Home sounded no worse than living with the immobilized shell that had once been my mother. My resolve to hold out until my birthday, until I could get the tesserae that would feed my family for an entire year, was shattered by the harsh raindrops pelting me from the grey, unforgiving sky.

I vaguely heard the baker's wife, the mean-spirited woman, with her deeply embittered, hostile blue eyes that somehow seemed black, scream at me, calling me names, shooing me from her property.

I'd simply wanted to rummage her trashcan, so desperate for any small morsel to take back to Prim, any motivation to take even another step forward, when I felt her rough and calloused hands shove me away.

I toppled over, my legs already weak and shaky from lack of nutrition and substance. My depleted form laid on the ground, my eyes bleary from exhaustion and the shivering wind and rain.

The witch went back inside the bakery as I scarcely conjured up the will to sit upright. I was beyond done. The fighting to even gain a fraction of my mother's awareness, to get something, anything, to feed myself and my starving sister, to even stand up, became overwhelming and I felt the last bit of my resolve crumble from deep inside.

Let them come and take me and Prim to the Community Home. I don't care any longer. Let them come.

Out of the corner of my eye, a boy exited out the same backdoor the witch had gone through. He was carrying a bag of trash in his hands and my famished mind focused on that first, focused on what could be inside the contents of that bag, on what a baker could potentially be throwing away, before I realized the boy was in my year at school. I knew him, or at least, I knew his face. But he stuck with the other blonde-haired, fair-skinned town kids and I didn't even remember his name in that moment.

In hindsight, that's absolutely hysterical now.

But he evaporated as soon as he'd appeared and I closed my eyes and let the rain drown me, hoping perhaps I could be swallowed up within the downpour itself. Hoping that perhaps I'd never have to face the reality that I was out of options and I had nothing of subsidence to take home.

But then I heard a clatter and a clang and the sound of a scream. It was her, the witch. She was screaming and calling someone names my own mother had never even uttered in my lifetime.

I mentally prepared myself for her to come back outside, to drive me away with a stick or a knife. Or possibly even a hot, scorching prong.

But it wasn't the witch. It was the boy, the one from my year. The one I thought went back inside after taking out the trash, that I believed didn't even notice me before.

He was carrying bread. Two loaves, in fact. The crusts were black and burned and the welt across his face told me, without a doubt, that he was the target of the witch's insults. That he was the victim of whatever clanging noise I heard.

And though I was the one starving to death, I didn't envy him having her for a mother.

I remember vividly, the most crystal clear image I have of this day, the boy checking and making sure the witch's attention had been claimed elsewhere. And then, without even glancing in my direction, he tossed one loaf of bread to my feet. Seconds later, the other followed.

He didn't hesitate to head back inside after that, and I've spent more time in these last four years than I'd more than likely care to admit, wondering what possessed him to commit such an act of kindness. No one was kind for free, I'd learned by that point.

And yet, as I shook myself forcefully out of my stupor, and carried the loaves back to my house at the edge of the Seam, I had no explanation for his simple act. I had no basis to explain why he would help me, when no one else ever had.

The next day, I saw him at school. I passed by him in the hallway, and saw his eye had now blackened, his cheek welted, but somehow he still managed a joyous smile. He didn't notice me then. He was surrounded by his friends. Like always, he was surrounded by a constant crowd.

He is, after all, one of the most charming and sweet people Panem's ever known.

Later that day, when I was about to walk home with Prim, who was excitedly chattering about the leftover bread awaiting us on the kitchen table, the bread I'd brought home the night prior that had filled our stomachs for the first time in months, I caught the boy looking in our direction. My grey Seam eyes met his baby blues for a microsecond, before he looked away. I snapped my gaze downwards too, embarrassed, when I caught sight of a dandelion.

It was that moment that a bell went off in my head. That I saw how I could survive, how Prim could survive. How, through the things my dad had taught me, I could keep me and my sister alive.

After that day, I could never stop associating the boy with the bread, the one who gave me hope, with the dandelion that reminded me I wasn't doomed.

I never stopped associating him with his simple act of kindness, even when he became famous for some much less appreciable acts.

And I never stopped kicking myself for failing to thank him, for saving my life and my family's life, before he was whisked away, to a land far from Twelve, called the Capitol. When he later returned, now a part of a much more elite social class, thanking him for his kindness became even less of a possibility.

A girl from the Seam had no business seeking out a boy from Victor's Village. Even if I did have the guts.

Though he isn't exactly in good company here in Twelve, seeing as the only other person who holds the same title is a drunken, middle-aged man who can barely form a coherent sentence most days and lives like a hermit by his own volition.

My thoughts are interrupted by the quiet—almost as quiet as mine, but not quite—steps of Gale.

"You're late," I state without turning around, pulling the cheese from my pocket. "You're lucky Prim's cheese held up under the sun."

But Gale pulls something even more impressive from behind his back. "This will probably go nice with it," he says and I almost gasp.

Fresh bread is so rare in our district, generally reserved for the Peacekeepers and perhaps a merchant who is having a good day. Here in the Seam, fresh bread from the bakery is as common as new school shoes.

Gale updates me on his day as we split the bread and cheese and have our own version of a small feast. He'd gotten to the woods early, while I had been still at home, and shot a squirrel to which he traded for the bread.

"The baker really went for that?" I ask in disbelief. The baker was a subdued, large man, who resembled all three of his sons quietly strongly, and was one of my dad's best customers. Sometimes I think he still trades with me and Gale out of respect to my dad's memory, but a simple squirrel for a loaf of fresh bread isn't common.

"I think he was feeling generous this morning," Gale suggests a little snidely, his bitterness leaking through. "Besides. It's not like the Mellark's need the money they ask for bread. They could easily skim off their precious son and he'd probably never notice."

Gale has a special affinity for hating anyone and anything associated even minimally with the Capitol. He was lost his father in the same mine explosion I lost mine in. But whereas I don't let myself get too worked up over the inequities between the town and the Seam, and especially between us all and the victors, Gale takes a special pride in fuming over the things he cannot change.

I don't mind listening usually, since neither of us can speak our minds in public or even within our own homes, out of fear small ears will pick up on our words and repeat them elsewhere. But today, I just don't have the energy to be a sounding board.

Instead I take a segue towards a slightly different topic, but one, without a doubt, weighing on both our minds. "Prim has been having nightmares of the reaping," I murmur solemnly. "She's convinced they're going to call her name."

Gale shook his head, his demeanor becoming more subdued now. "Least Prim's name is only in there once, Catnip. Rory had to take tesserae this year."

I nod silently at that admission, knowing what it must have cost him to even allow his little brother to take additional risks of being called. Knowing it meant his family of five must be even more hungry than he leads on.

We don't say much more after that, only lingering in the woods long enough to catch some additional game from what I've already collected, and hurry back to town to trade.

As we walk back to the Seam, having divided up our goods evenly, Gale murmurs suddenly, "I might be able to stomach the idea of Rory's name being in that bowl six times if we were still allowed to volunteer."

I bypass his words the best I can. I don't want to think about what Gale must be going through, making himself sick with worry, not for himself but for a sibling in which he considers himself responsible for. And, as it happens once in a lucky moon, I feel grateful that my tesserae is still sufficient for a family of three, and I don't have to worry about Prim the same way. Her one entry pales in comparison to the thousands that are piled in that bowl.

Still, the silence between us as we walk is deafening and I can't take it any longer as we come closer to my house. "At least then, you'd get to see the Capitol," I say lightly, as a means to brighten his mood, even just a little.

At that, Gale rewards me with a humorless smirk. "Generous of the president, isn't it? To allow us district people to experience the great Capitol firsthand while they slaughter our family."

And it's true. Just a few years ago, it was allowed to volunteer as tribute in the place of whoever's name got chosen, as long as you were the same gender and between twelve and eighteen on Reaping Day.

But four years ago, when a twelve-year-old boy volunteered for his seventeen-year-old brother, an outrage sparked across the entire country. People are never happy, in any district, to see a twelve-year-old be chosen for the games. They're the youngest, the smallest, the most innocent, and never in history had a single one made it past the Final Fifteen in the games.

So when one volunteered, the country wasn't pleased in the slightest. However, like always, the anger was contained by Peacekeepers in a matter of weeks, and promises came pouring out from the Capitol that a change would be made after the games that year to ensure never again would this situation occur.

And it never again could. Because three days after the Seventieth Hunger Games, President Snow announced that all volunteering, from that point forward, was officially banned.

This new law is even more ironic when you realize that the twelve-year-old volunteer from that year became the youngest victor in the entire history of the games.

Still, I suppose the president was feeling generous that day, and he threw in a bonus treat for us in the districts. Now when someone is chosen from the reaping bowl, though their fate is sealed definitively when their name is uttered, they get to choose one family member to take on the train ride to the Capitol with them, to get a special viewing of the games with the mentors and the sponsors and the past victors, to get to experience the wonder that is the mysterious Candy Capitol firsthand.

However, when all is said and done, twenty-three family members must ride the train home alone to their districts, with their loved one in a casket beside them. The thought chills me to the bone and I shiver as me and Gale wish each other good luck. We probably won't see each other again until it's time for the customary dinner we all try to put on with our neighbors to celebrate, even minimally, that we've survived another year unchosen.

Prim is already wearing my first reaping outfit when I enter the house, though it is a bit large on her. She's slimmer than even I was at Twelve, despite her having months on me when I attended my first reaping.

I get ready quickly, if only because I want to spend time with her before we have to go. I protect Prim in every way I can but I'm powerless against the reaping.

Still, she's only entered once and that's as safe as anyone can get from being chosen. It's almost unheard in the Seam to be that safe from the games.

But my sister never did appear like she fit in here anyway. Her golden blonde hair and sky blue eyes resemble the merchants, not the Seam, and her and our mother stick out like sore thumbs next to our neighbors.

Our mom is restless now, busying herself with preparing the food for our small feast tonight and braiding Prim's hair and then mine.

I still haven't fully forgiven her for leaving us when we needed her most, but I also can't imagine how difficult it must be to have to send both your children off to be potentially chosen for an absolute death. And I let her hug me as I guide Prim out the door.

Attendance is mandatory for all in the district, but the ones viable for being chosen and those just watching don't typically enter together.

I guide Prim by hand into town, the walk feeling longer than it did with Gale. Perhaps it's the trembling twelve-year-old I'm towing, or perhaps I'm more afraid than I'm even admitting to myself.

After all, unlike my sister, I have twenty slips with my name splayed across this year. It's not as a bad as someone like Gale, who has forty-four chances of being called. But it's not as safe as the kids from town, who likely only have to worry about a handful of slips with their names.

Its not that they're rich by any standard, but they get by better than those in the Seam. Even if they're hungry, they're not at risk of starving, and no one is going to sign up for tesserae unless there is no alternative.

A year ago, my mother let it slip once over dinner, just out of the blue really, that my father had always sworn no child of his would be in need of tesserae.

I shake my head, as if to physically rid myself of the reminder. I don't want to dwell on what my father would feel if he were here. I don't want to be reminded how different things would be if he hadn't died.

I help Prim sign in and then drop her off, as gently as I can, with the other girls her age. At the last minute, she pulls on my hand, yanking me back to her with surprising force.

"Prim, I have to go stand with the sixteens," I say as she leans up and kisses my cheek.

"I just wanted to say I love you," she whispers softly, her big blue eyes so terrified, and then she steps back into the crowd of twelves surrounding her.

I sigh softly and give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. She truly is the best of our parents. Kind, smart, level-headed. She's funny and resourceful too, even if she can't take hunting animals herself.

She is the only person I'm certain that I love. And just about the only thing that keeps me going most days.

As I make my way to the sixteens, straightening my mother's dress on my hips, I check the clock. Only five minutes before we start. Before our lovely Capitol escort, Effie Trinket, reads off two names in her distinctive, afflicted accent. Before two kids know they're never coming home again.

This place isn't much. But it is all we've ever known, and no one wishes to leave it.

As more people crowd in, I begin to pick up an excited buzz in the girls surrounding me. Already knowing what I'll see, I crane my neck just the same, to peer up at the stage ahead.

Sure enough, I see exactly what I knew I would.

There's four chairs set up on the stage. One for Effie Trinket, because no one from the Capitol could ever bear to stand for more than three minutes at a time and she must have a seat to relax in before she calls out the names and sends two of us—a lucky boy and girl, as she says it—to the slaughter.

One of the other chairs is occupied by Mayor Undersee. A man who looks like he's been beaten down by life too many times as it is and would rather be anywhere but here. His daughter is my age. She sits with me at lunch, since Gale is two grades ahead of me and we rarely see each other at school. We make polite small talk but other than that, I barely know anything about her, and by association, her father.

However, it's neither of them that's stirring up the buzz within the crowd—admittedly, more so with the female portion of the crowd—and it's definitely not Haymitch Abernathy, who's stumbling on stage right at this moment. He managed to win the Fiftieth Hunger Games and I still can't imagine how. He's a paunchy man my mother's age and he's never sober, on the rare time he's even seen in public. Today is no exception, as he flops onto a chair gruffly, and murmurs something unintelligible with his eyes closed.

No, the murmuring, the now batting eyes and coy smiles, the soft vibrato still traveling within the crowd, are all because of the last guest of honor, walking upon the stage right behind his old mentor.

Peeta Mellark.

Winner of the Seventieth Hunger Games. Youngest ever. District Twelve's first and last volunteer. The twelve-year-old that changed the rules for the entire country.

The youngest mass murderer in history of Panem.

And now one of it's most beloved celebrities.

Peeta is smart—brilliantly smart—and he's always been charismatic. Even at twelve, he had the Capitol audience, as well as every single soul watching on television at home, eating out of the palm of his hand.

It doesn't hurt that at sixteen, he's become quite a looker. His blonde curls, his blue eyes, those long lashes and bubblegum pink lips. His fair, perfect skin that has not a blemish in sight. His toned, muscular body and devastatingly genuine smile that no one can help but fall in love with.

He's also the boy who saved my life. The one who committed the simple act of kindness, knowing it would cost him, to help me.

I never thanked him. And now I never can, as I'm sure he has zero memory of me. After everything else that's happened to him since, after the last four years of living as a Capitol darling, as one of the country's most cherished victors, he'd never remember the starving eleven-year-old he threw some burned bread to in a rainstorm.

But I remember him. I don't know if it's what he did for me that day or what he did for his brother only a matter of weeks later, but something about Peeta Mellark crawled under my skin four years ago and ever since, I've never been able to completely shake the feeling I get inside upon seeing him.

I break my gaze away, refusing to stare at the boy, who I will always accredit as the one who saved my life. I venomously refuse to gawk at him, like every other girl in the district.

He rarely comes out of his house when he's home here in Twelve, and I know the overzealous amount of attention he receives just by going to his parents' bakery has to be at least a part of the reason. Unlike Haymitch, who has lost his clout and his appeal with age and with deterioration, Peeta has only gained more and more notoriety as the years pass by.

You'd be hard pressed to find anyone in Twelve, outside of a few outliers like Gale perhaps, who'd say a negative word about Peeta Mellark.

Of course, rumors about his random and long stretches spent in the Capitol itself are always floating around, no matter what time of year it is, but they don't affect his public persona or anyone's opinion of him. He is, after all, the most valuable figure Twelve has and perhaps the only thing we can take any pride in.

Effie Trinket steps up to the microphone just as I turn my head away from the stage. "Welcome!" She greets, so vivaciously, so brightly, I can't imagine it even resonates in her head that she's just moments away from announcing two of our impending funerals. "Welcome, everyone! To the reaping for the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games!"

I can't even bear to listen as she prattles on, with too much confidence and dignity for someone dressed in every neon color known to man, speaking in such a peculiar accent, with a thickly painted face that is so blatantly visible to the every eye here today, even in the back row. Doesn't she realize how ridiculous she is to us? Doesn't she realize how wrong it is to preach about the morals and disciplines of the Capitol, in such a prideful voice, when they're the ones about to murder us for entertainment, and in repentance for a long over war that only a few elders can still remember?

As I advert my eyes, my gaze travels once again to the back of the stage, and I'm more than a little surprised to see Peeta Mellark with a similar expression as mine. He, too, is shifting his eyes elsewhere, away from his own escort, looking sick to his stomach.

Of course, it still can't be easy for him, even with his own games four years in the past. He was a literal child when he volunteered and it's fact that he didn't understand what he was getting himself into when he took his brother's place that fateful day. His innocence was stolen as soon as the countdown ended and talk still circulates, even in the Hob, that he wakes up screaming most nights, calling out the names of fallen tributes. Though those words are not given much weight in the Seam, as we all know, people get bored in this tiny district and bored people begin to spew lies whenever encouraged.

Effie continues, in a long overdone mantra, one I could recite in my sleep, the same one she spews every year, that two kids from every district must be chosen to battle to the death in a new and invigorating—one of her favorite words—arena, in order to pay for the blood shed during the rebellion and war, in order to ensure we'll never again even think to rebel.

It would almost be easier to swallow, this whole charade, if the people sent from the strange land of the Capitol would just be honest and blunt with us. If they'd just admit that they see us as lesser than, as animals or beasts of some sort, as less than human beings. It'd be easier if the Capitol spokespeople would just outright say, "we'll take your children, we'll starve your district, we'll ruin your homes, we'll broadcast the deaths of those you love most, all to keep you too powerless to fight. In order to make sure you never are able to stand strong, we have to kick your legs out from under you first."

Instead of being honest though, Effie Trinket is reiterating the Treaty Of Treason, in a tone so serious that it takes all the self-control possible to stop several boys standing in the fourteens from bursting out laughing. Her accent and a serious tone do not mesh well together.

Once she's done though, my heart automatically skips a beat. Because, after four years of standing in this square, I know exactly what's coming. "Ladies first!" Effie announces and I feel a bead of sweat glide down my forehead, both from anxiety and from the overload of heat. Reapings always take place in the start of the hottest month of the year.

Standing in my mother's well-crafted dress, one of the most luxurious pieces of clothing we own, only makes my perspiration worsen, as the dress was clearly made to keep the wearer as warm as possible.

Our district escort makes her way over the bowl containing the names of every girl eligible to be picked in the entire district and I feel myself take in a breath involuntarily.

There's twenty chances she's going to call out my name. Twenty chances I'll be sent to an almost imminent death. Twenty chances Prim will grow into her teen years, and later adulthood, without a sister.

The gut-churning fear I'd repressed all morning, in that moment, overtakes my entire being, curling up like a ball in the pit of my stomach, as I do my best to listen on baited breath, somehow expecting to hear my own name spoken through the raucous microphone for all to hear.

Don't be me, I whisper inside my head, more fearful than I'd ever admit out loud. Don't be me. Please, don't be me.

And, as it turns out, it's not me.

Instead it's the name I never in a million years thought I'd hear. The name I believed to be so safe I didn't even allow myself to worry about her.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

#everlark #everlark fic #thg #the hunger games #thg fic #everlark fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #everlark fanfiction #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #writing #fic #fics #au #aus

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booksbookssomemoviesandbooks · 3 years

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Book Recs

Hello! so for my first post, I'll recommend some books, so y'all can have a closer look at some fandoms I'll post about! enjoy!!

Harry Potter By J.K. Rowling is definitely an interesting, well-written series! there are 7 books however, and the books get bigger as the series progresses. It's sometimes difficult to know the exact order, so I'll list it below:

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone)

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Although the movies are great, they don't include all the amazing details, as with all movies. A short summary:

Harry Potter, a young boy who’s being constantly abused by his uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia, gets a peculiar letter from the magical school of Hogwarts, where he spends most of his time, becoming his home.

Quotes:

“To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." ― Albus Dumbledore

“You’re just as sane as I am" - Luna Lovegood

“Mischief managed" - Fred and George Weasley

It is Important to know that j*r is a huge transphobe, along with other things, and is currently being erased by the fandom itself.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians, along with the other series by Rick Riordan, is a definite must-read. With each book, you can really notice the character developments and a lot more! There is loads of representation in this one, with lgbtqia+ characters, black characters, Muslim characters and more. It's very action-packed and addicting, sucking you into the magnificent world of Half-Bloods and Demigods within the first page. The first series consists of 5 books, in the following order:

Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief

Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters

Percy Jackson and the Titan's Curse

Percy Jackson and the Battle of The Labyrinth

Percy Jackson and the Last Olympian

THE MOVIES ARE TRASH SO I DEFINITELY DO NOT RECOMMEND WATCHING THEM BEFORE READING THE BOOKS!!! There were many changes and the movies aren't nearly as good as the books. A short summary:

Percy Jackson, a 12 year-old who lives with his mother, Sally, and step-father, Gabe, attends the private boarding school Yancy Academy. While on a school trip, his teacher, Mrs. Dodds, turns into a fury and attacks him. This, in turn, triggers a series of other problems and adventures.

Quotes:

“If my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself.” - Percy Jackson

“With great power, comes great need to nap. Wake me up later." - Nico Di Angelo

“Even strength has to bow down to wisdom sometimes." - Annabeth Chase

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins is one of my most recommended series! With everything it deals with, from the Capitol to the districts to the champions, the books are amazing!

Order:

The Hunger Games

Catching Fire

Mockingjay

Starring the movies is the amazing Jennifer Lawrence, but with all books, the movies have slight differences, although I definitely recommend watching them when you're done with the books.

A Short Summary:

In what was once North America, the Capitol of Panem maintains its hold on its 12 districts by forcing them each to select a boy and a girl, called Tributes, to compete in a nationally televised event called the Hunger Games. Every citizen must watch as the youths fight to the death until only one remains. District 12 Tribute Katniss Everdeen has little to rely on, other than her hunting skills and sharp instincts, in an arena where she must weigh survival against love.

(FILM SYNOPSIS)

Quotes:

"May the odds be ever in your favor." - Effie Trinket

"Fire is catching, and if we burn, you burn with us!" - Katniss Everdeen

“Hope is the only thing stronger than fear.” - President Snow

Divergent is another book with a huge fandom, and rightfully so. This book is amazing, and you honestly can't live without having read it!

Order:

Divergent

Insurgent

Allegiant

Surprisingly, I haven't watched the movies yet, but I hear that they aren’t that bad, so you should give them a go!

Summary:

In a world run by fictional classes known as factions, children who reach the age of 16 begin to choose which factions they wish to call home for the rest of their lives. Each faction comes with its own ups and downs, so it's definitely a hard choice, especially for someone as unique as Beatrice.

Quotes:

“Becoming fearless isn't the point. That's impossible. It's learning how to control your fear, and how to be free from it“ - Four

“We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another.” - Dauntless Motto

"We are not the same. But we are, somehow, one." - Tris

You might have heard of this series, and it's really addictive, trust me! The Mortal Instruments is one of the most astonishing books I've ever read, and it's most definitely my go-to when recommending a book series!

Order:

City of Bones

City of Ashes

City of Glass

City of Fallen Angels

City of Lost Souls

City of Heavenly Fire

Again, (I know this is rather disappointing) I haven't watched the movies, but do check them out!

Summary:

Clary Fray's search for her missing mother leads her into an alternate New York called Downworld, filled with mysterious faeries, hard-partying warlocks, not-what-they-seem vampires, an army of werewolves, and the demons who want to destroy it all.

via: https://shadowhunters.com/shadowhunters-novels/the-mortal-instruments/#:~:text=Clary%20Fray's%20search%20for%20her,want%20to%20destroy%20it%20all.

Quotes:

“Heroes aren't always the ones who win. They're the ones who lose, sometimes. But they keep fighting, they keep coming back. They don't give up. That's what makes them heroes.” - Clary Fairchild

“If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise Hell.” - Sebastion Morgenstern

“The descent into Hell is easy.” - Motto of the Nephilim

Gay. What more needs to be said?

SADLY, there isn't a movie yet, but I think they're working on one, or sure though

Summary:

Set in a world in which a female Democrat from Texas wins the presidency in 2016, Red, White & Royal Blue chronicles the illicit romance between the president's son, Georgetown senior Alex Claremont-Diaz (Dad is a Mexican-American senator), and Prince Henry of Wales, his childhood nemesis.

Via: https://www.wsj.com/articles/red-white-royal-blue-book-summer-beach-read-11565285001#:~:text=Set%20in%20a%20world%20in,of%20Wales%2C%20his%20childhood%20nemesis.

Also, classic enemies-friends-lovers arc and honestly it's amazing

Quotes:

“As your mother, I can appreciate that maybe this isn’t your fault, but as the president, all I want is to have the CIA fake your death and ride the dead-kid sympathy into a second term.” - Ellen Claremont

" 'that’s because you can’t hear all the menacing gobbling.' 'Yes, famously the most sinister of all animal sounds, the gobble.' " - Harry and Alex

"History, huh? Bet we could make some." - Alex

I’m sure you've heard at least a little bit about this book. While not nearly as famous as ones mentioned above, it's still just as good, of not better. I'd say this book is one of my favorites, to be honest. It speaks about a lot of topics people usually find disturbing, and it makes me so happy that it's there, it's written, it's amazing. PTSD, coming out issues, abusive relationships and more, this book is truly awesome.

TRIGGER WARNING

Summary:

A young boy named Charlie usually dissociates, and pushes other people away. He’s afraid of beginning high school, until he meets two other students who show him how bizarre and amazing the world is.

Quotes:

“And in that moment, I swear we were infinite” - Charlie

“We accept the love we think we deserve” - Mr. Anderson

“You can't just sit there and put everybody's lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love" - Sam

This book is honestly pro-feminist and I think that's much more than enough

Summary:

Kaur explores the true impact of sexual abuse and harassment, as well as the difficulties of immigrating, being a female, and depression.

It's also a poem

TRIGGER WARNING

Quotes:

“what is stronger

than the human heart

which shatters over and over

and still lives”

“you do not just wake up and become the butterfly

- growth is a process”

“on the last day of love

my heart cracked inside my body"

This book isn't very well-known, which really sucks because I really love how it speaks about the consequences of WWII from the German point of view. And about the Germans who did not believe in Hitler's ways. It's also based on a real story, and it's so cool

Summary:

A nurse working in a nursing home meets a peculiar old lady who decides to tell her her story when she meets the nurse's younger son, Karl, who reminded her of her brother. Lizzie (the old lady) speaks about life in Dresden before the war, and even after it. She also tells them the story about the strange, magnificent elephant in her garden.

Quotes:

“That was the only way of keeping our hopes alive, by looking beyond all we were seeing around us, and the shadow of disaster that hung over us.” -

“I think I have always had a strong sense of justice, of fair play, of what is right and what is wrong.” -

“Our home should be an oasis of peace and harmony for us in a troubled world.” - Lizzie (Quoting Papi)

10.

This book is pro-blm and it's ahead of its time (by like 2 years but still).

Summary:

Sixteen-year-old Starr Carter moves between two worlds: the poor neighborhood where she lives and the fancy suburban prep school she attends. The uneasy balance between these worlds is shattered when Starr witnesses the fatal shooting of her childhood best friend Khalil at the hands of a police officer. via: https://socialjusticebooks.org/the-hate-u-give/#:~:text=Sixteen%2Dyear%2Dold%20Starr%20Carter,hands%20of%20a%20police%20officer.

Quotes:

“Sometimes you can do everything right and things will still go wrong. The key is to never stop doing right.” - Lisa

“Daddy once told me there’s a rage passed down to every black man from his ancestors, born the moment they couldn’t stop the slave masters from hurting their families. Daddy also said there’s nothing more dangerous than when that rage is activated.” - Starr

“Everybody wants to talk about how Khalil died,” I say. “But this isn’t about how Khalil died. It’s about the fact that he lived. His life mattered. Khalil lived!” I look at the cops again. “You hear me? Khalil lived!” - Starr

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hockeysweetheart · 4 years

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I can name a thousand reasons why I love Peeta Mellark this is one of them...

He can bake duh...and prob can make some other wonderful things besides just baking..Growing up as a baker he knows a lot about bread and damn we all know he makes stuff extra special for Katniss.. Hot guy would be like hey look at me I would be like no shut up that one over there good looking and can bake sold...

But his stuff is almost to pretty to eat honestly... but inside would taste so damn good you don’t feel so bad respect that

Below is the whole bread story enjoy

It was during the worst time. My father had been killed in the mine accident three months earlier in the bitterest January anyone could remember. The numbness of his loss had passed, and the pain would hit me out of nowhere, doubling me over, racking my body with sobs. Where are you? I would cry out in my mind. Where have you gone? Of course, there was never any answer. The district had given us a small amount of money as compensation for his death, enough to cover one month of grieving at which time my mother would be expected to get a job. Only she didn't. She didn't do anything but sit propped up in a chair or, more often, huddled under the blankets on her bed, eyes fixed on some point in the distance. Once in a while, she'd stir, get up as if moved by some urgent purpose, only to then collapse back into stillness. No amount of pleading from Prim seemed to affect her. I was terrified. I suppose now that my mother was locked in some dark world of sadness, but at the time, all I knew was that I had lost not only a father, but a mother as well. At eleven years old, with Prim just seven, I took over as head of the family. There was no choice. I bought our food at the market and cooked it as best I could and tried to keep Prim and myself looking presentable. Because if it had become known that my mother could no longer care for us, the district would have taken us away from her and placed us in the community home. I'd grown up seeing those home kids at school. The sadness, the marks of angry hands on their faces, the hopelessness that curled their shoulders forward. I could never let that happen to Prim. Sweet, tiny Prim who cried when I cried before she even knew the reason, who brushed and plaited my mother's hair before we left for school, who still polished my father's shaving mirror each night because he'd hated the layer of coal dust that settled on everything in the Seam. The community home would crush her like a bug. So I kept our predicament a secret. But the money ran out and we were slowly starving to death. There's no other way to put it. I kept telling myself if I could only hold out until May, just May 8th, I would turn twelve and be able to sign up for the tesserae and get that precious grain and oil to feed us. Only there were still several weeks to go. We could well be dead by then. Starvation's not an uncommon fate in District 12. Who hasn't seen the victims? Older people who can't work. Children from a family with too many to feed. Those injured in the mines. Straggling through the streets. And one day, you come upon them sitting motionless against a wall or lying in the Meadow, you hear the wails from a house, and the Peacekeepers are called in to retrieve the body. Starvation is never the cause of death officially. It's always the flu, or exposure, or pneumonia. But that fools no one. On the afternoon of my encounter with Peeta Mellark, the rain was falling in relentless icy sheets. I had been in town, trying to trade some threadbare old baby clothes of Prim's in the public market, but there were no takers. Although I had been to the Hob on several occasions with my father, I was too frightened to venture into that rough, gritty place alone. The rain had soaked through my father's hunting jacket, leaving me chilled to the bone. For three days, we'd had nothing but boiled water with some old dried mint leaves I'd found in the back of a cupboard. By the time the market closed, I was shaking so hard I dropped my bundle of baby clothes in a mud puddle. I didn't pick it up for fear I would keel over and be unable to regain my feet. Besides, no one wanted those clothes. I couldn't go home. Because at home was my mother with her dead eyes and my little sister, with her hollow cheeks and cracked lips. I couldn't walk into that room with the smoky fire from the damp branches I had scavenged at the edge of the woods after the coal had run out, my bands empty of any hope. I found myself stumbling along a muddy lane behind the shops that serve the wealthiest townspeople. The merchants live above their businesses, so I was essentially in their backyards. I remember the outlines of garden beds not yet planted for the spring, a goat or two in a pen, one sodden dog tied to a post, hunched defeated in the muck. All forms of stealing are forbidden in District 12. Punishable by death. But it crossed my mind that there might be something in the trash bins, and those were fair game. Perhaps a bone at the butcher's or rotted vegetables at the grocer's, something no one but my family was desperate enough to eat. Unfortunately, the bins had just been emptied. When I passed the baker's, the smell of fresh bread was so overwhelming I felt dizzy. The ovens were in the back, and a golden glow spilled out the open kitchen door. I stood mesmerized by the heat and the luscious scent until the rain interfered, running its icy fingers down my back, forcing me back to life. I lifted the lid to the baker's trash bin and found it spotlessly, heartlessly bare. Suddenly a voice was screaming at me and I looked up to see the baker's wife, telling me to move on and did I want her to call the Peacekeepers and how sick she was of having those brats from the Seam pawing through her trash. The words were ugly and I had no defense. As I carefully replaced the lid and backed away, I noticed him, a boy with blond hair peering out from behind his mother's back. I'd seen him at school. He was in my year, but I didn't know his name. He stuck with the town kids, so how would I? His mother went back into the bakery, grumbling, but he must have been watching me as I made my way behind the pen that held their pig and leaned against the far side of an old apple tree. The realization that I'd have nothing to take home had finally sunk in. My knees buckled and I slid down the tree trunk to its roots. It was too much. I was too sick and weak and tired, oh, so tired. Let them call the Peacekeepers and take us to the community home, I thought. Or better yet, let me die right here in the rain. There was a clatter in the bakery and I heard the woman screaming again and the sound of a blow, and I vaguely wondered what was going on. Feet sloshed toward me through the mud and I thought, It's her. She's coming to drive me away with a stick. But it wasn't her. It was the boy. In his arms, he carried two large loaves of bread that must have fallen into the fire because the crusts were scorched black. His mother was yelling, "Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature! Why not? No one decent will buy burned bread!" He began to tear off chunks from the burned parts and toss them into the trough, and the front bakery bell rung and the mother disappeared to help a customer. The boy never even glanced my way, but I was watching him. Because of the bread, because of the red weal that stood out on his cheekbone. What had she hit him with? My parents never hit us. I couldn't even imagine it. The boy took one look back to the bakery as if checking that the coast was clear, then, his attention back on the pig, he threw a loaf of bread in my direction. The second quickly followed, and he sloshed back to the bakery, closing the kitchen door tightly behind him. I stared at the loaves in disbelief. They were fine, perfect really, except for the burned areas. Did he mean for me to have them? He must have. Because there they were at my feet. Before anyone could witness what had happened I shoved the loaves up under my shirt, wrapped the hunting jacket tightly about me, and walked swiftly away. The heat of the bread burned into my skin, but I clutched it tighter, clinging to life. By the time I reached home, the loaves had cooled somewhat, but the insides were still warm. When I dropped them on the table, Prim's hands reached to tear off a chunk, but I made her sit, forced my mother to join us at the table, and poured warm tea. I scraped off the black stuff and sliced the bread. We ate an entire loaf, slice by slice. It was good hearty bread, filled with raisins and nuts. I put my clothes to dry at the fire, crawled into bed, and fell into a dreamless sleep. It didn't occur to me until the next morning that the boy might have burned the bread on purpose. Might have dropped the loaves into the flames, knowing it meant being punished, and then delivered them to me. But I dismissed this. It must have been an accident. Why would he have done it? He didn't even know me. Still, just throwing me the bread was an enormous kindness that would have surely resulted in a beating if discovered. I couldn't explain his actions. We ate slices of bread for breakfast and headed to school. It was as if spring had come overnight. Warm sweet air. Fluffy clouds. At school, I passed the boy in the hall, his cheek had swelled up and his eye had blackened. He was with his friends and didn't acknowledge me in any way. But as I collected Prim and started for home that afternoon, I found him staring at me from across the school yard. Our eyes met for only a second, then he turned his head away. I dropped my gaze, embarrassed, and that's when I saw it. The first dandelion of the year. A bell went off in my head. I thought of the hours spent in the woods with my father and I knew how we were going to survive.

I had just turned away from Peeta Mellark's bruised face when I saw the dandelion and I knew hope wasn't lost. I plucked it carefully and hurried home. I grabbed a bucket and Prim's hand and headed to the Meadow and yes, it was dotted with the golden-headed weeds. After we'd harvested those, we scrounged along inside the fence for probably a mile until we'd filled the bucket with the dandelion greens, stems, and flowers. That night, we gorged ourselves on dandelion salad and the rest of the bakery bread. "What else?" Prim asked me. "What other food can we find?" "All kinds of things," I promised her. "I just have to remember them." My mother had a book she'd brought with her from the apothecary shop. The pages were made of old parchment and covered in ink drawings of plants. Neat handwritten blocks told their names, where to gather them, when they came in bloom, their medical uses. But my father added other entries to the book. Plants for eating, not healing. Dandelions, pokeweed, wild onions, pines. Prim and I spent the rest of the night poring over those pages. The next day, we were off school. For a while I hung around the edges of the Meadow, but finally I worked up the courage to go under the fence. It was the first time I'd been there alone, without my father's weapons to protect me. But I retrieved the small bow and arrows he'd made me from a hollow tree. I probably didn't go more than twenty yards into the woods that day. Most of the time, I perched up in the branches of an old oak, hoping for game to come by. After several hours, I had the good luck to kill a rabbit. I'd shot a few rabbits before, with my father's guidance. But this I'd done on my own. We hadn't had meat in months. The sight of the rabbit seemed to stir something in my mother. She roused herself, skinned the carcass, and made a stew with the meat and some more greens Prim had gathered. Then she acted confused and went back to bed, but when the stew was done, we made her eat a bowl. The woods became our savior, and each day I went a bit farther into its arms. It was slow-going at first, but I was determined to feed us. I stole eggs from nests, caught fish in nets, sometimes managed to shoot a squirrel or rabbit for stew, and gathered the various plants that sprung up beneath my feet. Plants are tricky. Many are edible, but one false mouthful and you're dead. I checked and double-checked the plants I harvested with my father's pictures. I kept us alive. Any sign of danger, a distant howl, the inexplicable break of a branch, sent me flying back to the fence at first. Then I began to risk climbing trees to escape the wild dogs that quickly got bored and moved on. Bears and cats lived deeper in, perhaps disliking the sooty reek of our district. On May 8th, I went to the Justice Building, signed up for my tesserae, and pulled home my first batch of grain and oil in Prim's toy wagon. On the eighth of every month, I was entitled to do the same. I couldn't stop hunting and gathering, of course. The grain was not enough to live on, and there were other things to buy, soap and milk and thread. What we didn't absolutely have to eat, I began to trade at the Hob. It was frightening to enter that place without my father at my side, but people had respected him, and they accepted me. Game was game after all, no matter who'd shot it. I also sold at the back doors of the wealthier clients in town, trying to remember what my father had told me and learning a few new tricks as well. The butcher would buy my rabbits but not squirrels. The baker enjoyed squirrel but would only trade for one if his wife wasn't around. The Head Peacekeeper loved wild turkey. The mayor had a passion for strawberries. In late summer, I was washing up in a pond when I noticed the plants growing around me. Tall with leaves like arrowheads. Blossoms with three white petals. I knelt down in the water, my fingers digging into the soft mud, and I pulled up handfuls of the roots. Small, bluish tubers that don't look like much but boiled or baked are as good as any potato. "Katniss," I said aloud. It's the plant I was named for. And I heard my father's voice joking, "As long as you can find yourself, you'll never starve." I spent hours stirring up the pond bed with my toes and a stick, gathering the tubers that floated to the top. That night, we feasted on fish and katniss roots until we were all, for the first time in months, full. Slowly, my mother returned to us. She began to clean and cook and preserve some of the food I brought in for winter. People traded us or paid money for her medical remedies. One day, I heard her singing. Prim was thrilled to have her back, but I kept watching, waiting for her to disappear on us again. I didn't trust her. And some small gnarled place inside me hated her for her weakness, for her neglect, for the months she had put us through. Prim forgave her, but I had taken a step back from my mother, put up a wall to protect myself from needing her, and nothing was ever the same between us again.

#the boy with the bread #thg #The Hunger Games #Hunger Games #catching fire #CatchingFire #mockingjay #TheHungerGames #Peeta Mellark #Peeta #katniss everdeen #everlark #katniss #katniss and peeta #bread #the bread story #bakery

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bowlegsandbiceps · 4 years

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Top 10 Favourite Characters

I was tagged by @not-a-natural-born-idjit and then flailed because they’re one of my absolute fave writers! (Seriously go to AO3 and read everything right now)

Rules: list your favorite character from 10 different fandoms and tag 10 people

1. Castiel | Supernatural I know I flail a lot about Dean and I love Dean’s face but Castiel is my #1. He’s fierce and brave and impatient and selfless. I don’t know how a being that’s been around for millenia can be innocent but he is. I like how messy he is, and he can be such an effective antagonist without being the big bad. Any friction he has with The Winchesters is from disagreeing on the right course of action and as viewers we can decide who to side with because both are inherently good. It’s their decisions that cause problems and that is a much more compelling narrative than “this thing is just evil.” I ship him with Dean (duh) but also Sam occasionally and I’d honestly love to see some Cas/Rowena action.

2. Hannibal Lecter | NBC Hannibal/Hannibal-verse Long before NBC decided to grace us with the absolute masterpiece that is Hannibal, I have loved this character. I think I was 14 or 15 when I fell down the Thomas Harris rabbit hole and I’ve yet to find a more perfectly crafted psychopath. He’s so refined that you really can believe that no one would suspect him of being the Chesapeake Ripper. His crimes are heinous and many without feeling sensationalized. Harris was originally a crime reporter which I think gave him the ability to ground Hannibal in reality. I really liked how the TV show fleshed out the main points that in the books Clarice Starling and Will Graham continually have to remind people of which is that he does these things to amuse himself. It was really amazing to watch him set up the dominos and then stand back to let everyone else knock them all down. I ship him with Clarice or Alaina mainly but I LOVE me some murder!husbands. It’s the slowest of burns and I will bask in those flames forever.

3. Malcolm Bright | Prodigal Son First of all Tom Payne okay. Second of all, poor, sweet damaged Malcolm. I really like that he has that rich kid air about him but it’s super subtle. He’s obviously very damaged by his father (Martin Whitley is a good example of one of those over the top “legendary” killer characters, though Michael Sheen’s performance REALLY goes a long way to making that believable) and the show doesn’t make his mental illness the forefront of his character. Malcolm works and visits his family and occasionally dates very similarly to any other main character but he’s doing all these things with severe PTSD, anxiety and depression. He’s always portrayed as upbeat and determined to push through any handicaps his mental health issues might cause. There are also times when he can’t and those are shown not by concerned family and friends banding together to throw him in a treatment center but it’s usually him, white-knuckling through it or attempting to work it out on his own which is another extremely realistic portrayal of how people deal with trauma and depression. I ship him with OFC because he and Dani have ZERO chemistry (I’m sorry Brightwell people). I like the IDEA of him and Edrissa but no one is writing it and I can’t even really get MY head around how to write it so I feel this serious urge to PUT HIM WITH SOMEBODY but there’s not been anyone on the show I’ve seen him have real chemistry with yet.

4. Tyrion Lannister | Game of Thrones I love Tyrion so much. I love him so much I named my cat after him. I loved him so much that I lived in CONSTANT. FEAR. that GRRM was going to kill him off at any moment. I like that despite everyone always thinking the worst of him he still does his best and not even with any intention of proving anyone wrong. He plays into their expectations with the booze and women but deep down he’s got a drive to be fair and especially kind to anyone who’s on the receiving end of pain and humiliation that are undeserved. He’s also fierce and clever enough to deliver crushing judgement and justice when deserved whether its through setting the wheels in motion or wielding the crossbow himself. I ship him with Sansa, shut up I know I just love the idea of them growing to love each other despite the rocky start.

5. Hermione Granger | Harry Potter HP was my first real brush with fandom. Like I’d been a Justin Timberlake fangirl since I was 12 and despite his level of fame the fandom was very small. When I started the series at 17 the breadth of content available was staggering. You could literally find ANY combination of ships you could fathom and it all ran the gamut from fluffy to downright depraved. I also find it interesting that while I like Hermione as a character in the books/movies she is far from my favorite character but she’s literally the only character I stan in the fanfic world of HP. I mainly shipped Hermione with Draco or Snape (forgive me I know it was a simpler time where we ignored everything problematic with certain kinks and narratives) and sometimes Harry. She’s such a strong female character that no matter who you pair her with the dynamic is going to be different and complex.

6. Peeta Mellark | The Hunger Games While I relate to Katniss on a very personal level, the boy with the bread absolutely fuels my little fangirl heart. The pining from a young age. The complete disregard for his own safety or survival in the games. Selfless and just good to the core, his subsequent torture by the Capitol and Katniss’ carelessness with his feelings is like taking blow after blow. And when they strip his loyalty to Katniss and his district away it’s even more tragic because he was just this sweet kid who had a crush. UGH feels. I ship him with Katniss. I just really can’t see him with anyone else.

7. Alexander Hamilton | Hamilton THIS was one where i just identify SO. HARD. with Hamilton. While I definitely didn’t endure a childhood like his, I did end up transitioning from a blue collar upbringing to a white collar career and experience the same chip on my shoulder and drive to prove myself. And I too write like I am running out of time. I ship him with his wife or maybe Angelica a little.

8. Persephone | Greek Mythology Not sure if there’s a “fandom” for this persay but Tumblr went through a phase in the early 10s where there was a ton of meta about Persephone and how her narrative as a damsel stolen by Hades didn’t do her justice. The flipped the script and made her Queen of Hell, powerful enough to sway the God of Death and terrifying enough to keep him in line unlike all the other Gods that were sticking their dick in anyone and anything. It’s such an empowering narrative, a girl taken from everything she’s ever known seizes the opportunity to become a force to be reckoned with. I love it.

9. Gregory House | House M.D. I was going to say Sherlock here but I never really went hard for Sherlock either the movies or the BBC show. I loved the show but really more for the canon and meta which is only half the fandom life. With House, I just love that he is so unapologetically hateful to anyone he deems stupid. But he’s also earnest and good too with a heavy dollop of man pain... you know... my favorite *cough*Dean Winchester*cough* I ship him pretty exclusively with Cameron beacuse I really like the dynamic. Her hero worship/white knight complex his emotional constipation but fondness of her optimism and ideals. Great dynamic.

10. Edward Cullen | Twilight This is my favorite Trash Monkey character in my favorite trash monkey series. The books are horribly written, the movies are better but not by much. But goddammit something about his level of obsessive fuckery speaks to my girl lizard brain and I am just rooting for this sparkly idiot and his clumsy human jar of mayonnaise. I ship him and Bella because apparently the universe didn’t find the fact that he’s my favorite character in this series humiliating enough.

Tagging (please don’t feel obligated to participate if you don’t want to): @navajolovesdestiel @chevrolangels @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @castielific @rauko-is-a-free-elf @astral-almighty @only4myfandoms @ charlie-bradburi @notfunnydean @blowthatpieceofjunk

#GUYS SOMEONE ACTUALLY TAGGED ME!!!#GUYS!!!#about me

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xonismsx · 5 years

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hadncchoice replied to your post

Listen I too was obsessed my first blog on tumblr was a Katniss blog and I'm in the [ slow ] process of bringing her back so. Also, this is amazing.

well when or if you do, hmu. i’ve got a hunger games verse for tyrus that’s just waiting to be used. & thanks. tbh i was really proud of them back in the day. if you’re interested here’s the other three “chapters” lol

Chapter 2 - Looking back

I don’t know why I did it, but I suppose in a way, I do. I burnt the bread on purpose, to give her. I feel as if deep down the beating was worth it, even though it stings. I just couldn’t bear to see her like that, starving, so weak she could barely stand, I never knew her, but by god, I never forget her name, Katniss Everdeen. I heard somewhere she was named after a flower, hardly seemed appropriate in the state she was in. As I sit in my room, confined as further punishment, I decide that, in this little way, I made an impact in her life, that she might remember me, similar to the way I remember her, from the first day of school. I wish I could work up the nerve to talk to her, to have a real conversation, not just me throwing some bread at her feet, hoping she’d appreciate it. I think back to recount exactly what happened.

It was raining heavily and I saw her dragging her feet as I got the opportunity to quickly glance out the window. I was glad to be inside by the glow of the fire in which I baked the bread, but I couldn’t help feeling sad she could not be as fortunate. She was soaked to the bone, wearing a jacket much too large, carrying a bundle in her hand. Her eyes were gaunt and she looked frozen, not to mention starving. She quickly disappeared from view and then not a moment later, my mother was screaming at her… fowl words that shouldn’t be spoken to anyone undeserved, but I suppose that in her mind, they were. My mother yelled at her, wanting Katniss to stay out of our trash bins, honestly, I didn’t see the harm in any of it but my mother was in a bit of a rage. I peeked out behind her, hoping to maybe catch the eye of someone I didn’t know, but somehow, in a way, cared about. Katniss went to start moving on again and met my gaze for just over a second, but I hoped that it was long enough for her to see the apologetic look in my eyes. My mother roughly pushed me back inside and I quickly went to tend to the bread in the fire, I don’t know what exactly was going through my mind and I purposefully burned the bread. Already upset, my mother was harsh, not that she wouldn’t have been otherwise. She hit me, right across my face. I already knew it would result in a black eye before it was even over. I quickly grabbed the two burned loafs of bread and hurried out towards the pig trough knowing what my mother would tell me to do before it left her lips. Her words stung nearly as bad as the blow to my cheek.

“Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature. Why not? No one decent will buy burned bread!”

I started to tear away the burnt bits and toss them into the trough. Then the front door bakery bell rang, and my mother disappeared to tend to the new customer. I could tell she was watching me, I wanted so bad to turn to her, and just hand her fresh bread but, I had done what I could, I couldn’t help but feel her eyes as they bore into me as she saw my red cheek. I quickly checked the bakery door, as if making sure the coast was clear before lightly tossing her a loaf of bread. The second one went quickly after the first and I rushed back inside. The whole thing happened in a blur, I just hoped that this act would put me on her radar. I don’t know what I really expected. A hello at school? Maybe even a thank you. I didn’t really think it would mean as much to her as it did. From that day on, I just sort of knew, deep down, I had to have her, because even as ugly as she would seem at that moment to others, she remained as graceful as that little girl in the red plaid dress, and she visited my dreams, as she was my escape from reality, as I was the glow of hope she needed in hers.

Chapter 3 – The Bread

She visited me in my dreams so often, it was hard to think of anyone else. I was popular, I was liked, I was single, it wasn’t like I didn’t have any girls chasing after me either though. Apparently, according to my friend who overheard some girls discussing this in town, I was/am the cutest guy in our grade. Since I heard this, I couldn’t help but feel a little awkward when any of the girls came to speak to me, knowing that they liked me but all I could think about was Katniss. As I grew older, I gradually got over this but I was the only guy, who never had a girlfriend, not that there wasn’t anyone trying to change it, I just couldn’t be bothered with any ordinary girl, I wanted her. No matter how much I talked myself up to it, I couldn’t talk to her, I was just too nervous. I never told anyone I had a crush on her either, it just seemed too personal, even though people told me theirs all the time.

Years crept by and like every year, I was nervous about the reaping. I was frantic my first year. Growing up watching the games, I was scared that I would ever have to go there, that I would ever have to kill another human being, the mere thought sent me reeling at first. I couldn’t stand the games but after the reaping went by each year, I got more used to the idea that there IS a chance I could be picked but I simply reassured myself there were plenty of other names in there, and odds are, the one pulled would not be my own. Somewhere at the back of my mind I suppose I hope Katniss wouldn’t be picked either but over the years, I came to terms with the fact she would probably never fall for me what with her being so close to that Gale Hawthorne. It was pretty obvious they cared for each other. I secretly find myself hating Gale, knowing he’s probably going to end up with Katniss, not me. And I find myself facing the same fate as my father, as Gale would end up a coal miner like most men in the seam. I would often catch myself staring at her from across the room, or in the halls, luckily no one ever really noticed. Except one day, the day after I gave her the bread, she saw me, and our eyes met for a brief second. I got so nervous I looked away, I regretted it immediately. I looked back at her a couple moments later to be sure she wasn’t still looking at me and what saw me made my slightly confused. Katniss had picked up a simple dandelion yet it gave her an enormous smile. She then took Prim’s hand and walked away, and once again, I was wishing I had the courage to speak to her. Later that day I realized something, I had hoped to catch her eye, and when I did, I looked away. I realized this was just one more reason she wouldn’t fall for me, I was being a coward, and she was the bravest person I thought I’d like to know, Katniss, the survivor.

Chapter 4 – The odds are never in my favour

Like most other people living in the Seam, Katniss will be signing up for tesserae, I just know it, and even though I somehow know it won’t make any difference, I hope that the odds will be in her favour and she won’t be picked, and this year, knowing that her little sister Primrose, will also be part of the reaping for the first time, I find myself hoping that she won’t be chosen either.

Once again, I stand in that both familiar and alien place among other boys my age, waiting and hoping that no one I know will be called. My anxiety heightens as the mayor comes out and gives his annual speech about the history of Panem and the Hunger Games. I just try and block it out, letting my mind wander back to the bakery where a warm fire and a fresh loaf of bread awaits me. I’m wandering the bakery, preparing cookies, kneading dough, when all of the sudden, I am forced back to reality as I hear the shrill voice of Effie Trinket call out the first name. It’s not mine, not Katniss, not even Gale’s. “Primrose Everdeen” The voice rings out loud and clear. I can faintly hear the crowd whispering unhappily as they do when someone that young is chosen. I can’t see much from where I am, but I gather that Katniss is fighting to get to her as I hear Prim’s name called out, “Prim!” choked at first, then stronger. “Prim!” I make my way to the edge of the crowd just as I hear the words I hoped Katniss wouldn’t say.

“I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!”

I’m so preoccupied hoping that my name won’t be the next called more than ever, that I barely catch what’s being said. Effie Trinket said something about being lovely, and the mayor seems slightly upset but remains stern. Katniss tells them her name and then Effie replies with something about a sister. Next I vaguely remember the old Victor from our district coming onstage, Haymitch Abernathy, he says something about Katniss but I didn’t quite catch what, something spunky if I’m correct. Then they announce the male tribute. Somehow my face remains plain, almost calm if you will, but it takes all my will power to keep it that way when the unspeakable happens.

“Peeta Mellark”

My name rings out and I am frozen to the spot. I will my legs to move and I steadily make my way onto the stage, and wait for what will happen next. The mayor begins to read out the Treaty of Treason as required every year. I’m not really listening and it doesn’t seem like Katniss seems to be paying much attention either. My mind is on other things. Why her? It could have been anyone else but it had to be her, I don’t know why, but I promised myself I would try to keep her safe, even if it meant giving my own life. My family could manage the bakery without me but without Katniss, her family would surely starve. At least this little mission gave me a small sense of purpose, there wasn’t really much else that could at this point I glumly thought to myself as I braced myself for what would be my final, and worst next couple months of my life, that is of course, if I’m lucky enough to last that long.

#hadncchoice #❘❙❚ ┊ replies ➳ ❛ i’m usually witty in these ❜

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wintryknight13 · 5 years

Text

Time For My Death Sentence

I always wanted to share my thoughts on old shit. And since severals years have passed, I'm sure I (a ghost) can freely give unpopular opinions on things without getting noticed (I know I'm pressing my luck). Maybe not a minority reception, but small nonetheless. Alright, here goes the list:

1. I hate pineapple pizza. (Easy enough)

2. I can't stand SJWs. They make me think liberals are plain stupid and delusional (and I lean a bit more to the left). I can go on a long rant about them but I won't do it here. And plenty have already beaten me to it.

3. Fandoms are horrible (yeah yeah I know I shouldn't generalize but truly, the most vocal ones just ruin it for me)

4. Supernatural was good for the first 6 seasons. Afterwards it gotten repetitive, inconclusive, and irritating.

5. Big Bang Theory too, for 4 seasons. I hate when it turned into a Rom-Com like it's FRIENDS. I'm glad it's coming to an end (hopefully)

6. I love the high school musical trilogy, I don't care if it's corny or dumb.

7. Twilight doesn't deserve all the hate it got. It wasn't even that bad (except for Breaking Dawn, I can understand that)

8. I still very much enjoyed the second half of Death Note even after L's Death. I love Near and Mello (And Matt!).

9. Ah, My Goddess! is the best and only Rom Anime I ever enjoyed. Keichi and Belldandy are a wholesome couple.

10. I hate the Germany = HRE conspiracy in Hetalia. There, I said it! I always saw them as 2 different people. I'm also not a GerIta shipper. Oopsie.

11. Naruto Ending sucks ass, I'm sorry. It ended with shitty couples and cheap power-ups and Bigger Baddies (A Goddess WTF) and unresolved themes/problems and the LAST movie and emptiness and many more questions. All just for the spin-off Boruto.

12. Fire Emblem needs to get rid of avatars and waifus. It's getting ridiculous.

13. I like Young Justice (not a super fan), but I hate the time skips and overload of new characters. I love Wally(RIP?), but could care less about Spitfire, they're like my least favorite couple.

14. I hate the New 52 DCAU art style. Just, no.

15. With the exception of volumes 1-3, RWBY is utter trash.

16. Legend Of Korra was decent. Tho my only favs were Bolin, Varrick, and Tenzin.

17. I love Gotham, but I hated the mismatched rom drama and resurrecting dead people schtick.

18. I Despise Disney Remakes. They are all TERRIBLE.

19. Speaking of Disney, I MISS 2-d animation. Those were beautiful times.

20. Lyrical Rap Music with meaning is 10x better than that mumble shit.

21. I wasn't at all affected by Hughes' Death in FMA (I'm wading dangerous waters). I mean yeah, it was tragic, but I didn't cry or lost sleep over it.

22. I'm too late in the game to like or enjoy KPOP. BTS is alright tho.

23. Polar Express is the BEST Christmas film. I dgaf what anyone says.

24. I like Jason Todd's white tuff, regardless if it only lasted for about 2 issues. Keep doing your thing, Fanart.

25. If you look past the flaws, FF13 isn't that bad. I enjoyed it. Lightning was a good MC.

26. What's a girl gotta do to get some manly ukes/bottoms around here?! It's all just submissive, girly pretty boy content! (Sorry, inner Yaoi Gal talking)

27. Feminism is stupid. Just wanna put that out there.

28. Y'all need to stop making Bruce the bad guy/father in Batfam Fanfics.

29. Alice & Zouroku, After The Rain, Gakuen Babysitters, and Monster are such underrated animes. Different genres, but all so AMAZING.

30. Amber is my least favorite character from Darker Than Black. Change my mind!

31. Jason Griffith was the ideal voice of Sonic The Hedgehog for me. Nothing can prove me otherwise.

32. Katniss didn't deserve Peeta. He's too much of a sweetheart to have kids with that Skank.

33. Percy Jackson needs a TV series. The movies didn't do my treasure justice!

34. Since we're on Percy Jackson, wasn't much of a fan of Percebeth. I love them as separate characters. Together? Meh.

35. I prefer the original, female, flat-chested, in-depth, badass, beautiful Saber in the Fate Series. The other versions can't even compare.

36. Alice from Detroit: Become Human should've been a human girl instead of an android. The weight and beauty of Kara's story is lost, and via replays Alice just becomes a nuisance.

37. Rise Of The Guardians NEED a sequel.

38. Marvel is good at movies. DC is good at animation. That's my gospel truth and I'm sticking with it. Ultimate Spiderman and the Dark Knight Trilogy are the exceptions.

39. I never seen Steven Universe or BHA. Too overrated.

40. Pokemon: I Choose You was the worst Pokemon Movie I've seen. From the lack of Brock & Misty (And Team Rocket. Honestly, where did the original backstory went?) to Pikachu fuckin speaking for the first time.

41. Just because America is indeed not the best country in the world, doesn't mean all other countries are automatically better.

...I know there's more, but this is what I got from the top of my head. Respond however you like. I litted the fire, after all. Heh, it's probably a good conversation starter.

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susannadlpena · 5 years

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Gonna casually check your privilege and say that Emperor Palpatine was resurrected in the Star Wars EU and it worked fine. But trust me not here to talk trash! Authors should be able to do what they want for the good of their stories and one series I’m heavily involved (I even talk to the author) has a character that some would say is favored most of all by the author, but her purpose within her universe has captivated the audience in such a way that we do not want her to fail. Part 1 of 2 >.>

PART II: psychotic-mouse said:I was just wondering what you’d consider is crossing the line into something that’s destructive for the story’s greater picture? While I love the world in ACOTAR, I can’t help but role my eyes at everything Feyre and Rhysand nowadays. I can’t and won’t say they’re obsolete, ACOWAR raised the roof in terms of possibilities and I’m sick of being stuck with Archeron and friends. Like, there’s a universe where GOD EXISTS! To me, ACOTAR needs TOG’s 3rd person pov or a fresh protagonist. Am I crazy?

Hi there!

Hoo boy, so this is a lot to talk about (and you’re in luck, because I love talking, yikes, sorry if this ends up being more than you bargained for, friend). First of all, you’re totally right. I totally forgot about the Star Wars EU. My experience with the EU is all the books involving Jacen, Jaina, and Tenel-Ka (who I still actively dislike), so it’s a bit limited, and I was going strictly off the movies. Maybe a better example is like if Suzanne Collins resurrected President Snow, or even President Coin. Poor Katniss.

So, doing something destructive to the story’s greater picture is different than doing something actively destructive. Since we’re on the subject of SJM, we’ll just use her. SJM killing off not only Nehemia but ALSO Sorscha to further two white protagonists is actively destructive. Was it malicious? I honestly don’t think so. Was it ignorant? Yeah. And though I’m of the personal belief that intent does need to be taken into account when examining things like this, I’m also of the belief that impact is more important than intent. I would’ve side-eyed a bit if it was JUST Nehemia, but Nehemia AND Sorscha? That’s a lack of self-awareness that hurts large groups of people.

SJM does very well, in my opinion, of staying true to the story and not destroying its greater picture. Ex: There are certain characters she couldn’t have killed without irreparably damaging the main characters. Basically any of the main squad. She had to take other things away from them, (Gavriel from Aedion, Aelin’s powers and the human form she’s used as a crutch/security blanket for years, Connall from Fenrys, Dorian’s humor and easygoing personality etc), because despite the criticisms that nothing was lost because no one important died, if she DID kill someone important, the entire message of the story–hope, happiness even when the odds are impossible–would be less impactful. Veronica Roth with Allegiant? Not so much. Killing the heroine in a somewhat pointless death that you’ve lead your readers to root for and want a happy ending for is maybe not the best narrative choice.

(For the record, though I don’t personally like it, I’m not against authors killing their main characters, but it’s gotta make sense. I’d be surprised, for example, if Jude survives Queen of Nothing. And, to use a character I love instead of someone I dislike so y’all can’t accuse me of being biased, Sam Cortland dying made sense to the narrative arc. It killed me. I low key still ship him with Aelin. But it made sense and it served the purpose of the narrative WELL. I mean I guess he’s not a main character, but he FEELS LIKE IT TO ME OK. *runs to a corner to cry and mourn … still*)

So, you used the ACOTAR world for illustration, so let’s run with that. A little bit of it is perspective and personal taste, right? I personally could read little tidbits about Feyre and Rhys for the rest of my life, because I love them very much. ACOWAR was meh for me, but I know a lot of people who REALLY HATED it, and a lot of people who REALLY LOVED it. And those things that people who really hated it take issue with tend to be things that the people who really loved it, loved.

That being said. SJM writing a book about Feyre and Rhysand would destroy the series narrative, just like we were saying. Why? Because their arc is over. They’ve gotten their happily ever after (relatively: I mean, every stage of life brings its own problems, and in fantasy that means WAR). But they’ve grown into themselves as characters, so trying to write another book about THEM means one of two things: Either SJM is going to beat a dead horse and there will be nothing compelling because they won’t grow or struggle enough, OR, she’ll have to pull them back in terms of development to create new problems (which to be fair, happens to people IRL, but it usually isn’t something we want to read in escapist fantasy).

So, you’re right. The ACOTAR world can only continue if it has a fresh new protagonist, and SJM has pointed to the fact that, there will be THREE fresh new protagonists. Each couple will get its own book, and my guess is she’ll start with Nesta and Cassian, because they have the most explosive problems (notice I didn’t say biggest), and she needs to use them to propel audience interest forward to read the others. If she starts quietly, like with Azriel and Elain (sue me, I’ve been an Elriel shipper since ACOMAF), she won’t hold her audience as well. That would be destructive to the story line a little bit.

I hope I answered your question? All in all, while I’m ‘eh’ about the plot twist in King of Scars, it isn’t destructive to the storyline. It has the POTENTIAL to be, mind you. It will all depend on how it’s handled. If Alina is dragged back in? I’m going to say it destroys, not its own storyline, but the storyline of the Grisha trilogy. If Alina is left tf alone, I’m still side-eyeing, but I’m side-eyeing because of my own tastes, not because I think there’s a fundamental issue with the plot.

Different things can destroy stories for different people, and those same things can MAKE stories for others. Again, I LOVED Rhys and Feyre’s cameo in Kingdom of Ash. I am a SUCKER for stuff like that, even though it’s silly (it’s a book people, let your hair down, ok). It really ripped other people out of the world, and that’s ok. They can side eye it for all those reasons all they want. My issue is that there’s a double standard (sometimes–not all the time!) with some of SJM’s antis, where they tear her down or ridicule her for making a similar choice to what they praise other authors for.

TL:DR–> There’s a difference between being destructive to your audience and being destructive to your story, and one is much more important than the other. It’s important to criticize. But be aware of your critiques. If you’re slandering an author for something you would praise another for, don’t be surprised when some readers/viewers stop assigning your critiques credibility and ascribe half of what you say to bitterness.

#kos #kos spoilers #acotar #tog #sjm #veronica roth #allegiant

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katnissdoesnotfollowback · 6 years

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I've been rereading Outside Chance from the beginning and I'm at ch 14 now. I loved it! The tension between the two is amazing and Haymitch cracks me up! One thing I noticed though on this reread and maybe I didn't pay much attention to the flashback before because I was more focused on the present part of the story was how it took a full year after being in New Mexico for Katniss to even consider competing again. And that the only reason she did was to bring in money to send Prim to school and

she didn’t think there was much else she was good enough at to be able to help support her sister. That makes me so sad for her on one hand because she obviously doesn’t think too highly of herself and also explains why she was gone so much of the time even though she felt guilty for leaving Prim for months at a time. I wish she would have told Gale that when he threw that in her face but I get the feeling she just didn’t care enough about his opinion to bother. Also that last line in that section about how there was no one there to cheer her on but Haymitch just made me so sad for her. I know she does it to herself by closing down but man! You compare that to the video Graham posted with Peeta and her Mom cheering her on in the background and it just had to be such a lonely time for her. The poor girl needs a break! And a hug! And some lovin’! Can’t wait to see her get some ;)

Anon, can I just start by saying how relieved I was to get this message today? I know it’s just a story and technically they aren’t even my characters, I’m just borrowing them, but man! I guess I just spend so much time and effort getting into their heads that I feel overly defensive of them, and poor Katniss has been getting a lot of flak for this one. Of course she made mistakes, and yes she’s partly done it to herself by closing down so completely, but I put her through a shit ton of trauma and basically shredded both her self-esteem and her trust when she was fifteen years old. She’s left with only Prim and Haymitch who she knows love her unconditionally and Prim can’t be there because she’s still school aged. Anyone new has to fight their way into Katniss’ circle of trust. But even Haymitch and Prim aren’t allowed into it fully because guess what! For years she is fighting confused feelings of betrayal and grief centered around her best friend from childhood who she believed would always be there for her and then wasn’t, and that’s tied with the sudden loss of her parents.

There’s a constant fear that anyone she lets close is going to turn on her so why bother? Any shred of happiness can be snatched away in an instant so it’s easier to feel nothing. She does this subconsciously and it has far reaching effects on her life and her relationships. That being said, Gale is the only new person in her life who is consistently there and pursuing her friendship, albeit an imbalanced friendship since she knows more about him than he does her (also yes she ignores the romantic undertones until they smack her in the face and then she struggles with dealing with those too). But for a long time, she feels like Gale is her only friend. Because he kind of is. Sae and family are in New Mexico. Prim has school and her friends in Colorado Springs. Haymitch is…Haymitch, and also her father figure and coach. Katniss has also completely isolated herself from her teammates. She doesn’t really try to get to know them until the present story line here. She’s lonely and passively accepts Gale because of all that. She doesn’t fight back when he trashes her sport for awhile because her self-esteem is destroyed, and honestly, there’s probably a part of her that wonders why she’s still doing it and is maybe a little angry because it’s so heavily tied to people she feels abandoned her. It’s really complicated.

Anywho! Her first real defense of herself and her life comes after that self-esteem has slowly started to reemerge because of a string of kickass seasons and some love and support from those she considers her family…and Gale stomps on it so she lets him go without a fight and returns into her shell.

Now, without giving away too much for the next chapter, take the thought process you’ve started here…how lonely and closed off she was during those years when she was with Gale or competing essentially alone and how long it took her to show any signs of healing, then compare them not just to her distant past and the video Graham posted, but also the past year with Peeta and how much she’s been able to regain in that short amount of time.

But anyways, I agree with you! Girl is in desperate need of some love, some understanding, and a serious hug. Don’t worry! She’ll get it. ;-)

EDIT: Also pay attention to all the ways Katniss has almost backpedaled since Agnes popped back into this confusing af picture.

EDIT 2: She worked with Gale, using one of her skill sets that’s also part of biathlon and pulled in money. You really think he’d buy the “this was the only way I knew how to support my sister” argument? #NotLikely

#Anonymous #look at that ask #you know the more i think about this #the more i dislike this gale #i made him a real asshole didn't i #oops

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paradisefovnd · 7 years

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8-12 for the multi muse meme

multimuse ask meme accepting

put this under a readmore bc it’s gonna get long

what is each of your muses otps? notps?

ruth balakov - otp: anything gay notp: darth vader??? idk

samir chaudhry - otp: i rlly like the thing goin on with @cverture‘s beth (im super slow in replying but ??? i like what we’ve got goin on) notp: voldemort

tutankhamun “tut” mcmullen - otp: ROWAN notp: that ask when rowan dumps him :(

jughead jones - otp: burgers notp: humans

melody valentine - otp: ALEXANDRA CABOT as written by @shenaniganelous notp: sadness

mark darcy - otp: BRIDGET OFC notp: not bridget???

choi han-kyul - otp: eun chan i cry :’) notp: someone who writes him off as a stupid playboy (and refuses to see his potential)

dr. noelle akopian - otp: a nice bath and glass of wine notp: any human who doesn’t treasure her like she deserves

greg serrano - otp: i’m trash but rebecca (also happiness) notp: greg and josh? (it’s not a bad ship i just can’t feel it for my greg? he thinks of josh as a bro and he can’t get those sexual feelins goin for chan)

maya - otp: aNYONE WHO TREATS HER WELL SOMEONE TAKE CARE OF MY BB notp: someone who is mean to her :(

valencia perez - otp: anything gay notp: valencia and men

johnny castle - otp: bABY notp: someone who takes advantage of him

blair warner - otp: GAY MOMS notp: not gay moms??

jo polniaczek - otp: GAY MOMS notp: not gay moms!!!

emily gilmore - otp: happiness notp: never having growth or independence

meredith quill - otp: diggin her and claire played by @iiinfiltrator!!! notp: ego

alice longbottom - otp: frank notp: what happens to her in canon

arthur weasley - otp: MOLLY notp: not molly

victoire weasley - otp: teddy, anything gay notp: idk??

helga g. pataki - otp: ARNOLD! notp: someone mean to her :(

effie trinket - otp: haymitch and anything gay notp: president snow??? idk

katniss everdeen - otp: madge :’) notp: men

jane villanueva - otp: michael, rafael, PETRA notp: adam :( (altho i might love him we’ll see)

michael cordero - otp: JANE GLORIANA VILLANUEVA notp: death :(

rogelio de la vega - otp: xiomara :’) notp: ppl being mean to him

elle woods - otp: VIVIENNE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! notp: professor callahan?

ryan atwood - otp: taylor townsend :’) also marissa i cry notp: lindsay

pam beesly - otp: JIM notp: roy

fitzwilliam darcy - otp: elizabeth (maybe charles bingley??) notp: sadness

jane bennet - otp: charles and anything gay notp: mean people

queen clarisse renaldi - otp: JOE notp: sad

sabrina fairchild - otp: anything gay notp: david what a icky person

capheus onyango - otp: HAPPINESS notp: being pressured into things :(

princess fiona - otp: shrek, anything gay notp: lord farquaad

shrek - otp: fiona notp: dragon

charles brooks - otp: liza notp: his ex i forgot her name whoops

josh - otp: liza, happiness notp: cLAIRE IHATE

chuck bartowski - otp: SARAH notp: JILL >:(

denny duquette - otp: life notp: death :/

why were you drawn to each one of your characters?

ruth balakov - i’ve had her character in my head for such a long time, and i was finally just like “fuck it! i’m gonna write her!” bc i love parks and rec, but i just can’t play leslie bc there’s too much history and stuff and i really wanted to play a quirky nina fc bc i used to have one that i loved, and it just seemed like a perfect fit

samir chaudhry - i felt a desperate need to reply as an astronaut to @cverture‘s beth, and so samir was born

tutankhamun “tut” mcmullen - tut’s origin story is one of the best!!! so, @idyllicism and i decided to use this randomizing character generator to do a fun random thread, and it gave me tut (which is why his name is so out there) who has grown so close to my heart, and i am thankful

jughead jones - tbh i added jughead bc i wanted to write him properly aKA ASEXUAL! I’M LOOKIN AT U RIVERDALE

melody valentine - tbh… i added her bc i wanted to write her with jenna :) and also i loved archie comics as a kid and always thought melody was so beautiful and her voice came easily to me so !

mark darcy - buckle in, this is gonna be a long ride. bridget jones’s diary is one of those movies that i love to death. it’s one of my sick movies, it’s one of my sad movies, my homesick movies, it helps me feel better. so, watching bridget jones i’ve always identified with both of the lead characters, but there’s something about mark that was especially easy for me to access. i’m still trying to figure out exactly what it is, but there’s something to him that i just…understand, if that makes sense. when i decided to make a multi-muse, he was one of the very first characters i had as a muse bc i knew i had to add him. he’s in my heart and soul.

choi han-kyul - so han-kyul is another one of those characters who i just really strongly identify with. in coffee prince, he’s someone who undergoes some huge development in who he is, and when i saw the drama for the first time, it aligned with some things i was dealing with in my own life. his relationship with his father, his coming to terms with his sexuality, his maturation, his longing to live up to his own potential, it all just hit me. another heart and soul character.

dr. noelle akopian - i added her for the funsies

greg serrano - i think i added him because he helps me come to terms with some real life stuff i have going on and also because i loved his development and wanted to explore that past what the show was able to give us

maya - honestly she’s the most pure being, and i just had to add her

valencia perez - valencia is a goddess who deserves better and i’m looking forward to exploring why she is the way she is

johnny castle - when i saw dirty dancing, i fell in love with johnny, and that’s pretty much it. god bless.

blair warner - i cANNOT fuck this is taking so much longer than i thought it would, but i have so many muses, and want to give them all their proper due, and fuclasfhdads. so from the beginning, i walked into a gas station this summer, and one of the employees was like “oh my god, you look exactly like blair from the facts of life!” and i was like “haha thanks!” bc i didn’t know who she was, but my dad who was with me was like “oh my god she does!” and then he was like “she’s like her more than just in looks too” meaning our personalities were similar. so OFC i had to watch this show to see my doppelganger. and WOW i was amazed bc she’s the closest i’ve ever seen to myself in physical aspects but also we’re very similar personality-wise too, and after my first episode, i fell in love, and i just had to add her as a muse

jo polniaczek - i didn’t expect jo, but after i watched that first episode, i fell in love just as i did with blair. honestly, the writers and cast can say she’s straight all they want, but jo is a gay icon, and it’s just so cool to see a character like that who’s so layered. jo is sensitive but also tough. she’s gone through a lot, but still holds such compassion and i love her to death and fuckfdsakfasf she’s honestly ruined all human beings for me now bc she’s the ultimate.

emily gilmore - so, emily is another one of those relating characters. what can i, a 22 year old baby bi, have in common with an old middle aged straight? well, let me tell you: a LOT. i identify so much with the way that emily has tried all her life to succeed in the society she was brought up in and having set ways of doing things and then just…letting go and trying to make herself happy. it’s inspiring and i love her.

meredith quill - listen, i’m not a fan of superhero movies, but i like the guardians of the galaxy series, and when i saw the second movie, i fell instantly in love with meredith and her light, and i had to add her

alice longbottom - i have never read the books, but i’ve read a lot of fandom stuff, and i just love the longbottoms, and i like that there’s a certain amount of freedom there to explore who she is and her story

arthur weasley - arthur reminds me of my dad, and his voice comes super easily to me which is why i added him

victoire weasley - again, i like the amount of freedom i’m afforded in figuring out who she is and all that

helga g. pataki - this is another heart and soul character. as a kid, i was also mean and dramatic and precocious. i was a LOT like helga. even today, i struggle with trying to soften myself for the benefit of others because i can come across as intimidating (idk why??). but i just…it’s just like damn. i get you, helga. we both have an alcoholic parent, tense relationships with our older sisters, and we both don’t have a TON of friends and just feel kind of…out of place, i guess, in the world we live in. we’re a little out of place and i just get her. i understand her, and i’m glad that she exists.

effie trinket - she’s just such a fascinating character, and i want to explore her more

katniss everdeen - i get her

jane villanueva - see, jane is someone who i think i look up to. she’s someone i wish i could be more like. i chose to add her as a muse because i love her and just want to give her a nice life bc lord knows she deserves it

michael cordero i added him bc he loves jane and is a huge dork and so caring and i lvoe him

rogelio de la vega - in a weird way, this is another character i relate a lot to. we’re both dramatic and a little vain, but we also care a lot about our family and most of the time, our intentions are good. he’s honestly such a fun character, and i’m glad i added him.

elle woods - i added her bc she’s amazing??? one of the best people of all time??? and her voice came easily to me so i was like “all right!!!!”

ryan atwood - he’s my fave character from the oc. i love his development, and i love how he’s not exactly who you expect him to be. you think he’s gonna be this big troublemaker, but actually, he just wants a stable life, and he wants the people he loves to be happy. he just wants peace

pam beesly - she’s another heart character. i think a lot of people find it easy to relate to pam bc she goes through so many relatable things, and her story is overcoming insecurities and becoming more confident, and i think that’s something a lot of people can see themselves in.

fitzwilliam darcy - i mean, i’ve always loved pride & prejudice, and i’ll be damned if darcy isn’t the easiest character for me to understand (a lot like mark)

jane bennet - she holds a special place in my heart bc people have said i’m like jane, and i’m always like “i wish” bc she’s the softest, most pure, most kind person, and i just needed that positivity in my life

queen clarisse renaldi - mY LOVE i love how they made her so layered in the movies, giving you hints of her background. i’ve always been interested in exploring her past, so i added her as a muse (another character whose voice came easily to me)

sabrina fairchild - sabrina is one of those movies i would watch after school was i was younger. i loved the romanticism of it and the costumes and music, and as i grew older, i started to think that it would have made for a more interesting movie if sabrina dumped linus at the end rather than ending up with him. what’s so interesting about that movie is her growth. she goes from a very dark place and undergoes some major development while still holding underpinnings of her past despite desperately trying to leave them behind.

capheus onyango - i love sense8, so i knew i wanted to add muses or a muse from there, and going through all the characters, capheus’s voice was the one that came most easily to me. he’s more than just his optimism, and i love having him in my roster bc he has such warmth and compassion for those around him. he worries about how his actions will affect others, and i just have such immense love for him.

princess fiona - me??? i grew up on shrek, and i love it in the most unironic way possible. i sincerely adore the movie and the musical, and fiona is a character i’ve always loved and related to a little bit.

shrek - but more than relating to fiona, i probably relate to shrek more. my family has always joked that i’m like an onion too and that i have layers just like shrek. he grosses me out a lil with all the farting and earwax, but otherwise, i love shrek and think that for living alone for years after being abandoned by his parents, he was able to grow rather quickly once meeting other people, and shrek is good in my book

charles brooks - he’s another darcy like character, although i don’t love him as much. i added him bc lbr the younger fandom needs him

josh - mY SON i love josh and i think that he has so much growing to do, and i love how the show has left some of his background open so that i can take a lil bit more liberty in figuring him out. i also love his adventurous spirit and his ease while also being so loyal and loving. he’s someone i really love.

chuck bartowski - chuck is one of those types that’s easier for me to write, and i think it’s just cause one of our core values is the same: family. family is one of the most important things to him, and it’s one of the most important things to me, and i think we just get each other in that aspect and more.

denny duquette - “i’m a man! i’m a strong virile horse of a man stuck in the body some weak sick bastard that I don’t know, like or recognize. now if you knew what that feels like, you would have never convinced me to let a battery run my heart. if you knew what that feels like izzie, you would have let me go.” this is why.

which muse is the most fun to write for?

again, i have fun with all of them, but probably rogelio. he’s just so much fun to write. helga is a lot of fun too! and ruth!

is there another muse you’ve been thinking of adding or writing for? who?

i mean, there are always more muses i’m thinking of adding. i’ve thought about adding na ae-ra from cunning single lady, but i’m pretty sure no one would write with her, so i haven’t added her yet.

i’m planning on watching the good place, and i just know i’ll probably wanna add someone from there

adding someone from frasier would be cool, but like…i highly doubt there would be an audience for them. like i’d love to write niles or smth, but idk if anyone’s even watched it. i mean, that hasn’t stopped me before, but i’m not pressed about it rn

i’ve always been wanting to add elizabeth from the crown because she’s another one of those characters i just super strongly relate to, but seeing as how she’s actually a real person, i haven’t. this is where i get a little confused because i know she’s a real person, but also, the show takes liberties, and she’s not actually queen elizabeth. like if i could take her character and make her not the real queen of england i would? but i just don’t know about what other people think of that? i dont knowslfjhads it’s a weird situation.

also someone from the west wing

what is something everyone should know about your muses before interacting?

sometimes, the muse for a certain character isn’t always there, so i can be really slow in replying.

#thank u lissa for sending me some!!!!#this took so long bc i wrote so much ims aljfhsdfhsldjfha #( answered tag. )#( mun tag. )#imthelcstprincess

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