#genuinely believe he is the funniest person alive
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lou wilson is incredible bc usually he plays like. a Good Person. perhaps a lil entitled (fabian) or incapable (amethar) but typically good guys. usually a team player like jammer or kingston, people who radiate kindness, they help the party out and everyone loves them. and then he came out swinging with lord airavis. just a shit stirring bird with exactly one loyalty and zero morals
#and he is right to do it!!#lou wilson#i. love. him.#genuinely believe he is the funniest person alive#lord airavis fucks and he deserves it#dimension 20#fantasy high#acofaf#a court of fey and flowers#a crown of candy#acoc#the unsleeping city#misfits and magic#mismag#d20
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towl 1x03 thoughts
rick is REALLY going through it trying to keep michonne alive by out maneuvering jadis AND thorne AND michonne herself because she fails horrendously at acting like she's not the most impressive person in the world AND trying not to have an aneurysm about all of that at the same time
speaking of rick you can't tell her to lie low and then eyefuck her in public every time you see her you are equally bad at this
equally you should probably stop kissing her every chance you get if you want her to believe you want her to leave lol
by contrast michonne screaming at him with her eyes while simultaneously giving him the silent treatment because she's actually too pissed off to yell at him? danai the actress you are!!!!!!!
also!!! the fact that rick thinks he can say "if you love me, you'll go" would actually make her leave is crazy. he has no idea how much that woman loves him! that's why she just smiled angrily at him because ACTUALLY. the reality is that she loves him way TOO much to ever leave him behind. that's WHY she's even here, in fact!!! he's not used to people fighting for him like this :(
michonne ripping that helmet off his head so hard i thought his head might come off with it had me cackling but also rick is stronger than me because I'd be on my knees
"you're a hero. with a shit haircut" I screamed he hates jadis so much it's so funny fdjaslkf
speaking of which I wonder if the freaks who think there is genuine sexual tension between rick and jadis caught his look of absolute disgust as he physically recoiled from her when she sexually harassed him for the 100th time. girl he's not gonna fuck you
CARL MENTION HELP
"He told me he'd find you. He found you." "Now I'm looking for him." MAYBE STOP MAKING ME CRY PERHAPS
one thing about rick and michonne they WILL find a minute to make out for a bit. and because andy and danai are EPs now they will do it with tongue while extremely well-lit! it's like they heard the complaints from the mothership and addressed them by kissing at least once per episode in broad daylight they love us
rich and michonne effortlessly fighting side by side and getting shit done after almost a decade apart because they are ACTUAL soulmates
the parallel between pearl aiming her gun at michonne and shane aiming his gun at rick in season 2 because they both feel threatened!!! big difference of course being that rick is there to literally put himself in the crosshairs to protect her
michonne staring rick down in a a turbulent helicopter and then abruptly yeeting them both into a raging storm because she is fed up with his shit is the funniest, most unhinged thing I've ever seen I love her so much
this show is fucking insane I love it. I'm still wary of how it will all end but I'm enjoying the hell out of it until we get there
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Finnick Odair x Fem!Reader: love as sweet as sugarcubes PART TWO
Finnick just wants you home. He misses you and he loves you.
You are in the Capitol with Johanna, Peeta, and Enobaria.
Read PART ONE HERE for context!!!
BTW ~ this is set during Hunger Games Mockingjay ~
Y/N's POV
I have no idea how long I have been in the Capitol being poked and prodded by metal instruments of pure torture, but it feels like forever. They've also been injecting me with tracker jacker venom and I hate the hallucinations. So far, my new plan is working. And by plan, I mean act stupid. Johanna hides a snicker back every time I crack my mouth open. I'm glad she seems to sort of enjoy this. I'm just trying to stay alive and keep my brain intact.
As I lie there in the hospital bed, a few Peacekeepers walk into the room. One props up my chair and asks, "Name?"
I answer, "Y/N L/N."
One of the Peacekeepers asks, "Who is the President of the Capitol?"
I answer "Your Mom."
I hear Johanna crack up laughing. Glad I could make her day.
It's rare to hear a genuine laugh from her or anything good. I mainly hear her screaming or trying to silently cry.
One of the Peacekeepers asks, "Who is the President of the Capitol?"
I answer, "You guys are no fun. It's Coriolanus Snow."
They ask, "Good. Now wasn't that simpler to just say the right answer."
I reply, "Yes it really was."
God, I hate them.
One of the Peacekeepers asks, "And how do you know Katniss?"
I answer, "I met her at the games during the training. It was the first time I spoke to her."
I'm not telling them much more than that. I answer the questions they know the answers to and not anymore.
One of the Peacekeepers asks, "And are you positive about this statement?"
I answer "Are you asking if I remember my life correctly? I know I'm right."
One of the Peacekeepers asks "Uh huh. We don't believe you. Your heart rate went up significantly when you answered that question. Boys, give her another injection."
I feel the venom run through my veins and I feel myself lean back. My eyes close a little and I find myself remembering more memories.
...
I then regain consciousness and I notice that the Peacekeepers are gone. Johanna says, "Y/N, you know you're playing with fire when you snap at them and play dumb."
I reply, "You do the same thing. Neither of us is doing better than the other. It's fine. I'm fine. We're trapped anyways. No one will come."
Peeta says, "I like to think that they will."
Johanna replies, "That's because you are an optimistic person."
Peeta asks, "How did Finnick tell you he loved you, Y/N? Was it cute?"
Johanna scoffs and asks, "Are you asking her to put you to bed with a bedtime story?"
Peeta answers, "Yes."
I exclaim, "Alright I can share that."
Johanna says, "Yay a love story for bedtime!"
I laugh and tell the story.
I notice Peeta asleep by the end and I smile. Good at least he fell asleep and the story time worked. I hope he can get back to Katniss.
Johanna exclaims, "I wish I was more like Peeta and I was hopeful."
I reply, "Me too. With everything going on, I have become more doubtful and anxious about our futures. The venom is hurting and the hallucinations are only getting worse. I just don't think anyone will rescue us or I will ever see Finnick again alive."
She replies, "No don't say that. Finnick said in the games, you were the only thing keeping him sane. He told me about his dream life with you by the water with kids and pets. Don't give up on that. At least you have someone."
I reply, "I'm sure there's someone out there for you too."
She laughs and says, "That's the funniest thing you've said all day."
2 weeks later ...
I lay there partially unconscious from all the tracker jacker venom and I notice the power go out.
I ask, "What is this about?"
Johanna answers, "No idea.
I'm too filled with tracker jacker venom to stay awake any longer, so I fall back asleep.
When I wake up, I'm in a different hospital room and someone is cuddling me. I blink a few times and realize it's Finnick. He looks pretty healthy, but he has bags under his eyes, so I guess he hasn't been sleeping well. I'm confused about how I got here and where I am. Everything about my brain is fuzzy. I also have a cast on. I'm very confused. I nudge Finnick slightly and he wakes up.
He looks into my eyes, smiles, and says, "Y/N! You're awake! Baby Oh how I've missed you! I probably should be more careful and quiet. Sorry, that was rude of me."
He pulls me into a gentle kiss and we kiss. I missed him so much.
I ask, "Where are we?"
He answers, "District 13, but you don't have to worry about that. You're safe. I'm safe. We are together and we can spend our future together."
I reply, "Johanna told me that you told her that you had a future for us all planned out with kids and pets."
He smiles softly and says, "Yeah... I see a real future with you and you make me so happy. I want to marry you one day and grow old with you and our kids and pets. I would've loved to live on the water with you, so we could swim all the time. But, I guess the underground is good for now and we can pick up new hobbies. Also, when I really propose, pretend you never heard this conversation, okay?"
I reply, "Ok, but only because I love you so much."
He smiles, kisses me on the cheek, and says. "I really love you so much. I missed you a lot too."
I reply, "I missed you too. You look like you couldn't sleep without me, but I'm here now and I hope you can rest easier. I should tell you that they injected me with tracker jacker venom causing me to hallucinate. Sometimes I will have nightmares and I want you to know in case I freak out at night."
He replies, "I will be here right beside you the whole time."
I yawn and say, "Ok, I'm gonna go back to sleep. You can get closer if you want. I won't break."
He kisses me on the forehead and then says, "I just don't want to hurt you. The doctor said you are extremely malnourished with lots of tracker jacker venom inside and a broken arm and he said you might have a concussion."
I reply, "Ok... um... then just stay close, love."
He nods and wraps his arms around me gently. I feel safer than I've felt in awhile.
And they all lived happily ever after... no but seriously, I could write a part three if you want... or not... hehehehehe
#thg finnick#thg fanfiction#thg series#the hunger games catching fire#the hunger games#finnick x you#finnick x reader#finnick imagine#finnick odair#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair angst#finnick odair x you
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i'm having a time of it where i couldn't look at screens very much, so i haven't been watching or posting as much about m*a*s*h, but you'd better believe that has left me even more time to THINK about m*a*s*h!!!
buckle up: update for season four disc one!
(after welcome to korea, that is, which was another post)
headline: LOVE the new characters!!
bj has somehow already committed arson?? hawkeye, you are SUCH a bad example for your little brother
at some point down the line i'm sure i will stop infantilizing this grown ass man but for now literally everything bj does i'm like. that's a Baby.
especially when he participates in a bit where they're going after frank or margaret, who he literally just met
you know when there's like a ten-year-old with a strong opinion about something, like "that [toy, tv show, video game] SUCKS!" with all the rage and feeling in their world-weary heart
... and then one step behind them is the five-year-old who chimes in "yeah that REALLY sucks!" but with this innocent delight in their eyes, like they have no idea what's going on but they're getting a really good grade in Big Kid
that's BJ, is what i'm saying
and colonel potter! he's regular army!! but it's ok: he drinks
it's soooo perfect that he and bj share their first o.r. scene. the sweet calming mentor energy... i'm luv him.
and then HE SHOOTS THE DEAD JEEP. i'm still laughing about that. if colonel potter never does one more funny thing again he's still the funniest man alive.
meanwhile! we join our established characters already in progress
frank and hawkeye's relationship gets genuinely hostile there for a while. uncomfortably so, even.
and during the week i was too dizzy to sit up and make this post i spent a LOT of time thinking about this!!!
each of them are spinning out for their own reasons, which play out all over this season so far. frank gained and lost the power he wanted so badly. hawkeye lost both his besties at the same time, and the support structure and identity that went along with that.
but also trapper's absence on its own radically changed the swamp boys dynamic!!
frank has always been justifiably hateable, but there was a SPORT to it, you know? hawkeye and trapper were tormenting him largely to entertain each other, which means they did it a lot but only to the point where it was funny
and think about the "but there's no real hate, right?" in O.R., like in frank's mind, they torture him but they're all still buddies!!! (and the occasional peek into frank's sad childhood could explain this perception)
it quickly becomes clear in season 4 that trapper was a tempering influence between hawkeye and frank, who end up in a full on BRAWL
LIKE A DRAWN OUT PHYSICAL FIGHT
also hard to watch: frank wrecking margaret's tent. hmm. mm-mmm. don't like this.
on the other hand, i loved the "i'm here but we're not doing anything!" scene in the next episode when they're playing cards in her tent. they're always slapping or kissing or scheming -- i feel like this is the first time we ever see them just hanging out like friends
… with anyone, actually. like this thirty seconds of a card game just unlocked an unseen part of both their personalities
something subtle is shifting in this relationship. by the end of "the kids," even sober-margaret is getting in on the joke that frank sucks. i await future developments.
THE KIIIIIIIIIIDS
oh god it's so sweet and harmless. it's healing. i love it. i want to roll around in that episode.
i hope "frank scams a purple heart and hawkeye steals it" continues to happen every season, like the mail episodes
i learned that alan alda directed this ep, which means that he made the decision both in front of and behind the camera for hawkeye to make this face as bj tells a bedtime story:
hawkeye!!!! don't fall in love with straight boys!!!!!
other things:
I'M STILL GRIEVING BY THE WAY
THEY CROPPED MY BOY OUT OF THE OPENING SEQUENCE
THEY CROPPED HIMMMMMM
henry blake memorial bar we hardly knew ye 😢
the moment when hawkeye is like yeah bj, just to get you up to speed: henry was basically radar's dad
any time they mention henry or trapper i have feelings but ALSO i have feelings whenever i think maybe they could have mentioned them but didn't. mentioned them IN MY HEART.
i'm a little fixated on the choice to replace henry and trapper, notorious philanderers, with characters who are immediately identified as Wife Guys
genuinely if y'all hadn't told me that mclean stevenson and wayne rogers wanted out, i would have assumed the character shakeup happened specifically for that reason!
totally other topic but i'm definitely missing some kind of joke here and it's driving me nuts: every time a british character shows up they're heavily spray-tanned. what does it meeeeaaaan??
and lastly. best part of "the bus" is the knowledge that somewhere off-screen, margaret, klinger, and the nurses are running the camp.
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I am still so grateful that @taylorswift liked the post of me and my sister Kate during the Lover era! For sure the most surrealist thing that's ever happened!
We are finally seeing Taylor live this year!! We have dreamt of seeing her live since we were young (7 and 4 years old). Money has always been tight for us. Our Mum and Dad knew how much we really wanted to go to the Speak Now tour in Belfast but unfortunately could not make it happen. ❤️
By the time 1989 and reputation came to Dublin, I eagerly watched videos of the tours on YouTube and posted updates on my tumblr. However, by then my little sister Kate was seriously struggling and repeatedly hospitalised with the (then undiagnosed) and vert rare connective tissue disorder that is Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. Kate unintentionally lost a significant of weight during these years and stopped getting nutrition from her food. We were terrified and didn't know what would happen.
We were born with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome and Dysautonomia, but these were only diagnosed last year. 🦓🦓💛💛
I have dealt with my symptoms from my early teens. My sister Kate has struggled since childhood. This has made socialising and forming solid friendships impossible as we are typically too ill to meet up.
Kate has a knee operation coming up soon. I have kyphosis surgery. We don't yet know if this will be before or after the eras tour in June. We hope everything works out and we can see Taylor live to celebrate all the eras.
To see Taylor right in front of us at Dublin Night One still feels too good to be true. This is what we have been waiting for all these years. I can't wait to sing and dance with Taylor and thousands of other fans for one magical night. I can't wait to have the best evening ever with my parents and my sister. This is what Kate and I have spent hundreds of hours sitting around the fire, carefully analysing verses and discussing hidden meanings. 🔮
Kate and I use a wheelchair part time. We do, however, plan to stand during the eras concert in the front right with our parents for a once in a lifetime experience. We will wear our braces and keep our pain medication topped up. We will get through the night. We know laughs and memories from the tour will last us a lifetime. We have many more tests and examinations left to carry out, but no doubt your jams (especially the tortured poets department as well as future music you are probably already working on). 🤣
We most look forward to hearing the song marjorie live. We both cried when we first listened to it. Taylor describes her grandmother beautifully. We feel especially connected to our grandfather when we listen to this. We discovered a few months back that we inherited our rare genetic condition from our grandfather. He passed young as it went undiscovered. We believe listening to marjorie helps keep his memory alive because we think of him. 💙☀️
We are lucky to have Taylor's music as a form of therapy. We relate to her quirks and her awkward and lovable sense of humour. We genuinely believe Taylor is the funniest person to ever live and we are entranced by how she is so unapologetically herself. Being 5ft 10 and seeing Taylor in the media has really helped me to be more comfortable and accepting of my height and my overall appearance.
@taylorswift if you just so happen to see this post or catch a glimpse of our sequin dresses, curly hair and ever-glittery eye makeup on stage please know: Kate and I are beyond ecstatic to celebrate at your concert. We are going to sing and dance like we have always dreamed of doing. Please ignore our clicking knees and hips if you just so happen to hear them up on the stage. I can say with almost 99% certainty any clicking will be our 22 and 19 year old bodies just doing their thing lol. 🤣
P.S. We can't wait to see your extremely sparkly outfits, shoes and makeup (we really REALLY love glitter in case it wasn't already obvious!!) in person. We love how unhinged you are with sparkles!! 💜
🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
- Anna (and the slightly more monotone but equally as funny, Kate). 🩷🩷
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Rambly brain dump
I’m probably venting actually idk
Maybe don’t read this I just need to put it somewhere
I don’t think I realized that all the shit that happened just genuinely wasn’t as funny as I thought it was
Like it was happening and I was like “lmao my dad broke in a window tryna get into my house”. But let’s be real. My dad broke in a window tryna get into my house. What?? That happened to me? I was supposed to go to a concert that night. I missed it because I was helping to clean up glass and keep my siblings entertained. My dad broke a window.
I freak out when cars pass by my window and get nervous when people knock in the door cause it reminds me of the night my dad had cops shine lights through our windows at 4am trying to see if we were home. And the stupidest thing is no, my mom wasn’t home. I was alone and I had to be brave and deal with that by myself. Because she stayed out with her boyfriend and was too much of a coward to come back and keep me safe.
I stayed up until 5am packing up and moving and leaving my entire life behind. I live in a little house with a tiny pull out bed and a toy box as a bedside table. I packed my shit up while my mom was throwing away my things and yelling at me for not being able to carry things that were too heavy. I still packed my things and I still ended up in this sad little house and I still left my safe place and I can’t ever go back. That home belongs to someone else. That place isn’t mine anymore.
And this doesn’t even only apply to things that happened during the divorce.
I had to have been like six at most, and my mom had my mouth tapped shut while I cried in a corner.
I’ve been locked out on my front porch at least three times. I was maybe 12.
My mom has been throwing out my things for years. It started with toys when I “misbehaved”, and now it’s things that actually matter to me. She broke into my fucking locker thing just to get into my personal stuff and throw it all away. And then she had the nerve to deny it. She threw away my art because she didn’t like it. She took away the apps I needed to make YouTube videos because she didn’t like them. Everything I’ve ever told her I liked, she’s always found a way to ruin.
When my parents found out I was queer they yelled at me about it for hours. Punished me for it. Told me I could tell anyone I wanted but no one would ever believe me. And y’know what? I told my Opa and he believed me. They’re probably half the reason I was so scared to tell him. But guess fucking what? They were wrong. And now they want me to believe they’re soooo supportive? Fuck that.
In 7th grade I was (for lack of a nicer way to say it-) very suicidal and I struggled slightly with hurting myself. Ofc I didn’t hurt myself in a way that mattered, I don’t even have scars anymore, but regardless. They found out about this, and punished me for that too. I literally wanted to be dead, thought I deserved it, and they grounded me for it. Didn’t help me at all. Just made me feel worse about it. I got myself clean and I made myself want to be alive again. They didn’t do anything for me.
I’ve been hit for things I shouldn’t have been. Sometimes I made the mistake of fighting back. I haven’t been hit since the divorce, cause y’know, they want me to like them. But I used to be hit all the time and I’m now realizing how scary that really is.
I’ve been threatened to have cops called on me. I’ve been threatened to be abandoned. I’ve been threatened to be killed.
I’ve been told straight up that my mother regrets me. Which is the funniest (or, maybe not funniest?) thing because I was literally unplanned. Though my mom refuses to admit it, I did the math, and my dad told me. We all know.
And I guess I just find it easier to play it like a joke. But it’s sorta hit me over the past two weeks that it actually affected me and I actually have problems because of it. It’s not funny. I may have had a childhood full of toys but I also had yelling outside my door at late night hours.
And I just played it as a joke because I didn’t know what else to do. Now it’s too late to be upset about it. It’s all happened and now I’ve gotta grow up and pretend it didn’t. I didn’t get the good parents. And I can’t do anything about it.
and it’s so scary cause if they can fake 20 years of love, what does that say about me? I’m both of them in one. I’m every bad thing they’ve done, put together. I’m a result of those mistakes. Am I designed to be as bad as they are? Cause I desperately want to be nothing like them.
I wish none of this ever happened to me. I remember too much and at the same find half of my memory is blank. I don’t know why I deserved this, and it makes it so hard to believe I didn’t. Why would such bad things happen to me if I didn’t deserve it? I did it all by myself for what reason?
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oooooooo im. im wavibg my fingers tell me about juno
ooooooo
ooohhhhhh noooooo… ive been hypnotized by your finger wibbling…. i guess i have to talk about hiiimmmm……
@ my fellow players in the d4 campaign DONT READ THIS. none of them actively use tumblr but jic
(LOTS of text under cut)
the first thing i always always always say about him is that he fucking SUCKS. hes the worst man alive i hope he dies im literally obsessed with him. juno infyris is a tiefling celestial warlock :3 his patron god is homebrew that i made myself! basically he grew up in the underdark (gracklstugh to be specific) doing odd jobs to make enough money to leave. since almost all of the underdark is under lolth, he genuinely just didnt. think gods were real. he was an atheist he just thought everyone else was in a cult on something LMFAO once he was old enough he started a little shop of his own selling fake magic items (most of which he stole). like spamton but not actually like spamton at all. now while setting up his window display for candlenights he ACCIDENTALLY SUMMONED A DEITY. shes like ohhh brave one you have summoned me….. your wish is my command… i shall aid you in your journeys…. and hes like Uh Um Uhhh Can You Help Me Out. (<- INCREDIBLY UNSPECIFIC THING TO SAY TO A LITERAL GOD.) she takes this and fuckinf runs with it hes now soulbound to this deity thats trying to make him a better person and have him do good deeds and stuff amd he HATES IT. as aforementioned he is the worst fucking guy alive hes greedy and selfish and an all around bastard who literally scams people for a living and now all of a sudden hes forced to be a good person or else god will kill him and its the funniest dynamic ive ever written. anyways he escapes his master and leaves the underdark and meets up with the party etc etc etc BUT i wanna talk more about his life before then. see the underdark is a really shitty fuckinf place to live for like 90% of the population and basically anyone that isnt a drow or duergar. SO. you can imagine his life kind of sucks. he is forever in servitude of at least one master at all times & is FOREVER trying to convince everyone he meets to let him live. he used to have wings, in fact! however when they grew in, his master used him for his wings & made him do a bunch of shady shit for him before cutting them off, not wanting juno to seem too valuable to others and have him stolen. juno currently doesn’t remember ever having wings & is convinced hes just naturally discoordinated and clumsy but in reality he’ll never fully acclimate to living without his wings. for all of the 18 years he lived in gracklstugh he spent every day trying to be good enough so that he wouldn’t be deemed useless and killed. his main tactic for this is flirting. see, he knows he’s fucking annoying, and he’s spent years trying to ‘fix it’, and he just can’t. so if he cant change his personality, he believes his only use is his looks. he’ll flash a charming smile and a kiss on the cheek to the vendor he’s currently robbing, distracting them so that he can steal just enough to get by. he’s fucking pretty, and he knows it, so he uses it to his advantage. he exists as an accessory, something to be used, and believes that’s the entirety of his worth. when he escapes the underdark by killing his master (with the help of angel, another pc in our campaign), he takes his left eye out. the scar changes everything. if he’s not pretty, not appealing enough, then he’s fucking useless. he finally got his chance to escape the underdark and now he’s going to be left to die as soon as he sees the sun for the first time. OBVIOUSLY THIS ISNT WHAT HAPPENS. throughout the campaign, one of the other pcs, rpck (no that’s not a typo his name is rpck) falls in love with him. this shit changes EVERYTHING his entire worldview begins to crumble as he learns he can finally be loved and. Yeaghf. im fucking normal about him. theres ALWAYS more i can say abt him but this is long enough already LMFAO thank u for letting me ramble jack :-)
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I saw a post like this and I wanted to try it. what I think of each member of gvf 🙆🏼♀️
jake: a sweet old soul. naturally shy but not shy enough to not start a conversation with you at a bar. will remember your cat’s name and ask about them next time he sees you. cares too much what people think of him. knows he’s pretty but doesn’t know how pretty and probably doesn’t believe it either. has a superpower for music, was literally born to be a musician. is the most emotional member of the band but will never admit it. he knows exactly what to do if you start crying and you never know how he does it (like magic). will find the quietest person in the room and go compliment them. cares about family more than anyone knows. stares at the darkness of a new moon 🌙
josh: genuinely misunderstood almost all of the time. will say the first thing that comes to mind and doesn’t process it until 30 seconds later. will stay up all night to talk and laugh with you (the most you will ever laugh). has a joke for everything. has a love for humans and human nature that not many people do nor understand. best person to tell a secret to except there is a possibility he will tell jake your secret (only jake though). will make you pull over the car to take a photo of the sunset. he’ll also show you that photo at least 3 times that night. will do face masks with you on self care nights. reminds you that the sun keeps the earth alive every single day ☀️
sam: fireball. will go to war for his friends and family so don’t try him. can’t handle awkward silence but sometimes makes things more awkward by telling jokes at the wrong time. can make you cry from laughing though. can make any socializing event a good time. brightens up a room when he walks in (he knows this). tells you the most disturbing fact at 4 in the morning as if it’s a normal thing to think about. will get an attitude for free. will mention how dirty city streets are every time you visit. points out butterflies when he sees one and addresses them by very human names 🦋
danny: angel on earth. will do anything to make sure you feel comfortable. stays kind of quiet for the first half of hanging out and then out of nowhere BOOM! he’s the loudest and funniest guy in the room. has an insane amount of patience, like mom-award-of-the-year kind of patience. remembers your fave song and recommends similar sounding music to you. points out cows on long drives. keeps a journal of dumb things he’s stopped a kiszka from doing. understands the kiszkas more than anyone else on earth. will finish your beer if you can’t. will reach things on the top shelf for you without you asking. will stop mid conversation to smell flowers 💐
#greta van fleet#jake kiszka#josh kiszka#sam kiszka#danny wagner#Idk who started this sorry :(#But I loved it so thank you ❤️
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3, 7, 10, 13 and 24 for gamora!
3. A song that reminds me of them
Not to be basic but. Would've, Could've, Should've. Also Weapon for Saturday by LOLO has such Gamora vibes
7. A quote of them that you remember
"Trust me by my deeds" like FUCK Infinity Wars & everything but I'm obsessed with that.....
"We're all ears, toots. Bet she's some kind of groupie" OBJECTIVELY THE FUNNIEST THING ANYONE HAS EVER SAID TO NATASHA ROMANOFF I'm a "Gamora calls everyone toots" truther
"Thanos built me for one purpose. To kill. You can take your chances with me but you'd be taking your chances with him too" my badass bitch <3
Her whole monologue on scars from Warlock & the Infinity Watch #9 is HAUNTING
"I was a little girl, the last person alive on the only planet I'd ever known. Even if he'd let me live, it was only a matter of time before I would have starved, or fell down a well. Of course I could see the face of Death" fucks so hard it's unfair.
10. Describe the character in one sentence
War crimes (affectionate)
13. Your favorite friendship they have
Her & Pip.... I truly think he was the first person to offer her unconditional love & what that meant to her literally cannot be understated. Adam's undoubtedly important to her, but Pip is too!! I wish their friendship would get more recognition 'cause they have some of my favorite moments in Gamora's history.
24. What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?
I genuinely believe that Thanos is the only living person that knows what happened in W&TIW #9 flashback.
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ok im tired as hell and its too gotdamn warm for me to actually sleep so im gonna list off some of my omori thoughts til i pass out
i got the good ending bc i was following a guide bc i Cannot stand full screan surprises n the guide was good but the one (1) thing it doesnt remind u to do daily is water Basils plants. so. im doing all of that again now
i love the fucking characters in the game theyre all so neat n alive. i keep wanting to say im attached to someone specific but im having a hard time picking favorites theyre all so Good
theres a lot like a Lot of instances where Kel is hinted at being the lesser sibling and just the least important out of his friend group and its only really stated in an obvious kinda way once n like. he seems totally fine most of the time and he doesnt seem down often or for long at all in unrelated moments but for these he doesnt seem to even acknowledge it. and of course the others dont seem to think of him as less important which is Good but does he like. have a problem with this. i wanna say hes hiding it but i dont Know bc hes fucking good at it. i might make a whole post on this later actually
seeing Hero cry hurt more than i thought it would and seeing him jump right back to smiling seconds later every time made it Worse. its the older sibling thing
one detail i really like is that while some of the scenes are meant to be funny to the audience, Hero's fear of spiders isnt usually made fun of (the only time i can remember is when Mari apparently snuck bugs into his desk to see his reaction lmao). otherwise hes taken seriously and the others try to push him to overcome it someday, not Now but its something he should work on himself. and the bit w Kel removing a spider from their room, all while saying what hes doing exactly and reassuring Hero that the spider was gone, was a sweet thing to see compared to all the other media where siblings would throw it at the other or something yknow its just nice
Aubrey Good. thats the post
Basil
i dont even know where to fuckin begin with Basil (affectionate) this kid has Problems
seriously theres so much shit going on w these kids thats left unsaid but is worked into the environments or even just what they Dont say its genuinely incredible. beautiful characterization and worldbuilding
the real world sections of omori feel less like im playing as Sunny and more like im guiding this child in a gentle but assertive manner to Do Shit. like ok kiddo brush ur teeth and then we're gonna go outside today. yes its good for u trust me ive been there anyway ur buddy is at the door, go have fun!! oh btw i found some parents who will literally pay u to help their kids with homework. yes ur doing that. its free money dude cmon
cant believe omori lets me live my true dream job (organizing things in short bursts for money)
on that note the music that plays for the tool organizing and the flyswatting jobs might be my favorite track in the game and i have no idea why. its like the audio equivalent of the word blorbo
i wish there was a fucking therapist in this town bc god knows id drag em all there
my brother came in during one of the endgame parts n thought Sunny was a girl when Basil was teasing him abt his crush on Aubrey n went "aw yeah you cant escape the gay even here" (not in a derogatory way) n it took me so off guard i forgot to correct him. hes right tho actually
"when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie thats omori" is the funniest joke that couldve ever come out of this game i want to personally thank whoever did that
showing all the different ways the kids reacted to grief and trauma and acknowledging that some were more harmful to themself or others and thats just how people work sometimes n they all make amends n agree to support each other in the end and begin to heal despite it all. h
also the moment that i realized the dream world was in fact a dream world made by Sunny and. everything it represents. his desires. his fears. dude
#i see a lot of myself in Sunny so all the messages abt facing stuff to heal and ackowledging change n stuff . MAN#the only bit that kinda went over my head was when everyone in the dream world was forgetting abt Basil#im. not entirely sure of the reason for that. im sure there is one but it missed me by a hair#im also aware the other route reveals a lot of stuff that im prolly missing but. i. do i have the courage for that. do i really wanna do it#ok ive been typing this stuff for two hours n its still warm as Fuck but im so so tired. gnight yall 💙💙#omori tag
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so s2 of saved by the bell really was a serve from start to finish huh…like i binged the whole thing at like 4 am last night so i know there’s shit i’m forgetting but some highlights that i legitimately cannot get over (spoilers):
• i was honestly very skeptical when they first started talking about the pandemic, but they managed to build a lot of the major themes of the season around it without making it feel too contrived. like i loved how the whole thing was about like, coming back together as a community and rebuilding spirit and stuff, and the whole speech at the end about how there’s no such thing as wasted time resonated so much
• devante’s entire character arc this season was genuinely one of my favorite parts of the show. his relationship with nadia was so cute and they actually had such important conversations as a part of it particularly with the class and race issues…and then devante’s whole career thing with the fair and then turning down the music opportunity…god i loved the line about how people told him the only way he was getting out was with a microphone or a football and i just love how much of his character is knowing who he is despite everyone trying to tell him who to be and the fact that he just never lets go of that!! best character energy!!!! also his growing love for bayside…seeing him so happy this season…the continuation of his amazing friendship with lexi….chef’s kiss!!!!
• BI AISHA BI AISHA BI AISHA!!!!! i’m so so happy this was a plot point this season and also approached so well, also i was SO happy seeing ariela barer as chloe because they are amazing in everything and chloe was suchhh a fun character. i was honestly disappointed last season when aisha didn’t get with jamie but i really liked the way they concluded things there (though i would really love more aisha/jamie friendship) and honestly it was so fun seeing aisha come in to who she is. also the whole arc of her absolutely decimating the racist asshole spanish teacher…that’s my fucking baby!!!!! i love her!!!!
• speaking of jamie he and lexi were so cute this season. like, the fact that they were able to grow so much both individually and as a couple was honestly impressive and they just complemented each other so well. i really like how they made it clear that things didn’t just happen and weren’t always natural, but both of them worked to make their relationship better and also be better people and i just…i love them okay
• also. the humor this season?? literally top tier. i genuinely laughed out loud multiple times, and i love that sbtb can include pop culture references that actually seem natural and funny. also i think one of my favorite lines in the entire season was “did you hear that the bakery’s having a sale today?” “no, on what?” “on HOT CROSS BUNS” *blows terribly into the recorder* i am still laughing over this
• i also just am never able to get over how the show like…really seamlessly integrates conversations about issues that feel really forced and unnatural in other sitcoms and shows like this. like somehow it manages to tackle so many convos across the board and not pull any of its punches while still keeping the heart of it and making people redeemable and being hilarious i love it so much
• mac morris…ugh still one of the funniest characters alive, still delivering every second, and the GROWTH!! the way he’s consistently shown to be so smart and so capable when he puts his mind to things…the way a core theme of his character is how he really just needs someone to believe in him and trust him enough to give him a chance (AND IT WAS DAISY!!)…the way this season addressed the fact that he feels like he constantly has these expectations to live by but he’s genuinely trying to be a better person and work at being more empathetic and less selfish…the way he’s come so far since s1………ugh 😫. i’m so proud.
• speaking of proud my daughter my heart the light of my life daisy did so much this season i am so proud of herself. absolutely love love love how a big part of the season was how like…she didn’t want to do the spirit competition at first because there were bigger issues but then she realized how important it was to the student body and how that fits into the big theme of her character of like…getting caught up in the big picture when focusing on her friends and the people she loves is what she really needs…i love that she got that this season…god i hated seeing her hurt but the way she came back from it and the heart that she put into it was so wonderful…my girl just spent the whole damn season showing up everyone around her i love her so damn much
• and maisy stans…maisy stans we ATE!!! we ATE this season!!!!!!!!!!! i had a feeling they’d start slowburning maisy but i did not expect real life confirmation that mac is head over heels in love with her…i did not expect “only for you” and him saying she changed him and him just wanting to spend time with her and her telling him she was impressed and smiling at him like That™️ and “i only date guys who win the spirit competition” MAISY STANS HOW ARE WE FEELING!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i was screaming from beginning to end let’s be real i was expecting hints but i was not expecting to be FED LIKE THIS!!!!!!! we truly won this season i am thriving my skin is clear my crops are watered maisy is soon to be canon life is so fucking good
anyway i went into this season thinking it would be decent i did not think it would blow my expectations out of the water i did not think it would serve so hard but i am so so thrilled by everything that happened i love this show so damn much anyway s3 where you at 😩🙏🏾
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Like The Stars Hold The Moon
Written By : @katnissmellarkkkk
Prompt 59 : "Katniss dad is a victor, he won his hunger games and is a mentor. Peeta is reaped for the games and Katniss begs her dad to help him win the games. [submitted by anonymous]“
Hi! It feels like there’s so much I need to say here and I can’t remember any of it now! This is obviously–if you read the summary, which I assume you did and that’s why you’re here hahaha–an EFE prompt. It was submitted by an anonymous person, so I don’t know specifically if this is what you wanted but I really hope this is good enough that you’ll be fulfilled?
I don’t think there is much more to say? I hope everyone who reads this has a good day! I wrote plenty of this on Easter so I’d like to thank Jesus for rising again. And I feel like the prompt alone is a sufficient summary but just so you know, this heavily features Katniss, Peeta (obvi), Haymitch and Katniss’ father, Hunter (I named him, that’s not canon, I know).
This fic I likely going to be a three-shot with an opportunity for a sequel three-shot. Oh and also, thank you to the anon who sent the prompt!
Oh and this got really long, so I’m just going to submit the first part on here and then I’ll add a link at the bottom to continue reading on AO3. I’ve never done this before so I don’t know if I’m doing it right?
Okay, if you read all my talking, bye now!
Rated T for the canon violence.
At the reaping for the Forty-Seventh Hunger Games, Matty Knick drew out the names of a ”very special boy“ and ”a very special girl“ from the reaping bowls. She read them off in a bright voice and matched the sentiment with an out of place perky smile. The girl’s name was Heather Branch.
And the boy’s was Hunter Everdeen.
Of course, everyone knows the story of Hunter Everdeen.
/
Year of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games.
"So Hunter,” Caesar Flickerman leans toward the victor, absolutely electrified, and says, “tell us, tell us. How excited are you for the games this year?”
The camera focuses in on gray eyes, the color of a storm cloud or a cleanly polished knife. Dangerous and hard and cunning.
Or protective and frightful and angry.
Or warm and loving and kind.
“I’m about as excited as I always am, Caesar,” he shoots back, not a trace of even so much as a smirk on his face. Not even so much as a lift from the corner of his mouth.
And still, the crowd of Capitol idiots burst out in laughter, as if they just heard the funniest joke in the world, as if this was Hunter’s desired response to the words.
As if the conversation wasn’t about teenagers—and some as young as twelve—killing other teenagers.
“And what about you, Haymitch?” Caesar asks next, segueing from one aggravated man to another.
“I’m looking forward to the free drinks,” Haymitch says while tipping back dark gold colored liquid into his mouth. Almost as an afterthought, he gestures wide and sloppy to the crowd, igniting cacophonous sounds from the population once more. “And of course, the social interaction with all you lovely people.”
No one in the audience recognizes the insult. No one understands the blatant sarcasm at their expense.
Here in District Twelve though, we do. As exemplified by Peeta’s laugh, vibrating against my back. “Shh,” I hush, laser focused on the enormous television screen before us.
“Daddy’s not speaking anymore,” Prim reminds me from the other room, where she’s currently flipping through a magazine our father sent.
“Well, be quiet before he does,” I snap, elbowing Peeta when he rolls his eyes now. “Stop it, I haven’t seen him in weeks,” I complain, fixing him with a fierce glare.
“I know,” he murmurs agreeably, gently kissing my temple. “But he’ll be home in a few days.”
As if they could hear our exchange from inside the television box, Caesar turns his attention back to my father. “Hunter, how excited are you to get home to District Twelve?”
At that, his eyes genuinely light up with ferocity. “I’m counting the minutes,” he replies, but still manages to keep his tone cool. He adamantly refuses to give away his true emotion to even a single soul in the Capitol. It’s his way of withholding power from their greedy, glitter covered hands.
But I see the change in him. Prim, from her position against the doorframe, sees it. I’m positive my mother, who’s watching with our brother from the comfort of our house sees it as well.
Our father’s eyes are now alive again, the permanent frown his mouth resides in on every televised appearance loosens a bit, his brows aren’t knit so closely together any longer.
Caesar Flickerman sees the change too evidently.
“Look at those silver coins!” He bellows, gesturing for the cameras to put my father in a close up now. “They just lit up like the stars when talking about home. Tell me, Hunter Everdeen, how’s the family back in District Twelve?”
At that, my father makes a considerable effort to transform his entire expression into a mask of indifference. “They’re good,” he states evenly, his tone clipped. Making it blatant to even the airheaded Capitol citizens that he refuses to speak publicly about his family.
“Because you’re not property of the Capitol, baby,” he told me once, while on a walk in the woods. “You’re not anyone’s property.”
“What about you and mommy?”
“You’re our responsibility, but not our property.” He’d knelt down to my height, which happened to be the shortest in my second grade class. “Property implies ownership, Katniss. And no one owns you. No one owns you or your sister. Remember that for me. And never let yourself forget it.”
“You’re daughters are both old enough for the reaping, am I right?” Caesar presses further, and my sister and I automatically sigh. Knowing the response that’s bound to come.
“What’s wrong?” Peeta asks, as he still remains completely clueless. I shake my head instead of offering an explanation though, leaning further into his chest.
Peeta won’t understand. He was raised in town by merchants—the owners of the bakery, to be specific. He’s never understood the fierce protectiveness, the instantaneous fury, the irrational tunnel vision, that appears when a victor’s child is mentioned entering the games.
Peeta’s never even met my father. I’m not impatient by any stretch of the imagination to put the two of them in the same room, to watch my father chew my boyfriend up and devour him alive, to abide by his rules and regulations that will surely come with dating.
He doesn’t know Peeta and I have even so much as shaken hands. I’ve never so much as left him even the slightest hint. Not even when I’ve accompanied him to the bakery for the occasional trade with Peeta’s father, the baker himself.
Like both Prim and I predicted, our father is now on edge, his breathing uneven and his nostrils flaring. “Yes. Both my girls are of age,” he says after a long beat, his tone hard and jagged.
Caesar though is either oblivious or is extraordinarily practiced at appearing obtuse. “Well, wouldn’t it be something if either of them were chosen for the games? Am I right?” He directs his questions to the audience. “Don’t we all love a family story?” His words elicit cheers and hollers and a murderous glint in my father’s silver eyes. The camera only catches it for a moment’s time before quickly flitting away, towards the much more enjoyable image of the Captiolites chattering like chipmunks at the very idea.
And suddenly I feel Peeta’s arm tighten around me, the vision of me—the only person in the world he’s certain that he loves—being taken away from our home here in Twelve and tossed into an arena with kids twice her size, too much for even his naïve mind.
“Don’t we all believe in Mr. Everdeen,” the talk show host continues to push and I feel my typical annoyance with the odd man bleed into anger. “I mean, he brought home Mr. Abernathy here.” And with one single hand gesture from Caesar, the entire interview’s focus re-centers on Haymitch.
And unlike my father, he doesn’t even miss a beat before replying.
“Barely,” he mutters with a last swig of his drink, cleaning the glass. “And he was stingy with the gifts.”
Next to him, my father relaxes a bit. Haymitch always brings out a bit of levity in him, even on his worst days.
After all, in my father’s eyes, the paunchy drunk is a symbol of hope.
Haymitch is the only person my father’s ever brought him. He’s the only other living victor inside the confines of Twelve.
Not to mention his closest friend.
And my surrogate uncle, I note, a bit ironically. Haymitch and I have a far different relationship than he has with anyone else in my family but he’s always been there, has known me since the day I was born, often has dinner at our house, rain or shine, no matter how much he annoys my mother, and he’s an irreplaceable member of my family.
The audience is still riled up from Haymitch and howling with laughter—a bit too much, in my opinion—but my father can’t let the subject of his children go before adding one last sentiment.
“Don’t worry, Caesar. If either of my girls are reaped, trust me,” he states, louder and far more pronounced than anything else he’s said the entire interview. “They will be the victor. There’s not a tribute in the arena that would survive against my girl.”
/
For as long as I can remember, my father had taken me to the woods. He sometimes claims the first time he looked down at me in my mother’s arms, at a mere two days old, he saw a familiar hunger in my eyes.
Not a hunger for food. District Twelve is the smallest and the poorest in the country of Panem, but luckily, my family is one of the richest.
Unlike my schoolmates, I’ve never once had to worry about having enough to eat for lunch. My parents never worried that we’d starve to death or that Prim and I could be taken from their grasp by authorities. They never worried about supplying us with whatever we needed—they gave us more than we ever could have wanted—and they never had to fret that we’d be sent to the mines for work one day.
No, we were far too wealthy and far too famous for any of that.
But my parents had a far different batch of worries to keep them up at night. Not about food or finances or anything remotely common in Twelve.
No, they had to worry about cameras peaking into the privacy of our home and photos being taken without our knowledge and my face or Prim’s face being splashed across every magazine and newspaper in the country.
They worried about the almost insatiable thirst the Capitol seems to have for more family dynamics among the victors.
Especially after the recent back-to-back sibling victories led the hunger games to higher ratings and revenues in the Capitol.
When I was a child, my mother coached me to never go into town without my father by my side. Which sounds easy enough, until my father’s extensive vacations to the Capitol are taken into consideration. For as long as I can remember, my father would leave at random stretches of time, for weeks on end. To go play puppet for a population so dumb, so completely isolated from the rest of the country, that they took his anger for sarcasm. They took his bite as charm. They believed his glare was an act, was part of his appeal, when in reality my father had rebelled against performing for the last twenty-seven years.
When he was gone, our lives became strict. Bedtimes came earlier, curtains remained drawn day in and day out, our mother never wanted to sing or dance or even so much as smile with her husband gone.
But when he was home, sunshine peaked in our windows again. It danced on the floor and it swept us away with its gentle affection.
There was music and laughter and sweets and toys. He never returned from the Capitol empty-handed. He brought back expensive jewels for our mother, he built me and Prim a fancy treehouse in the backyard, put up a large, golden swing-set, went as far as purchasing as many cakes and breads as he could hold from the Mellark Bakery.
Peeta’s parents bakery.
Since I was two, further back than I can even retain, my father would take me out to the woods, would hold my hand and tell me old stories of District Twelve’s past, detail insane urban legends, teach me about plants and berries and trees and the direction of the wind.
And for as long as I can remember, I idolized him. He was so confident and so charismatic and so kind. For as long as I could remember, I wanted to be exactly like him when I grew up. It felt like an honor to me that I received far more his end of the gene line than my mother’s. She was regarded as a beauty in her youth, but he was one of the most magnificent people in the country. Having his coloring and the same silver eyes felt like a special gift, awarded every single time someone marveled at how similar we appear.
But my father was gone often and the unpredictable lengths of his stays in the large, foreign city was one of the only constants my family ever knew. So it really came as no surprise when my mother phoned the cabin only minutes after Caesar’s interview was over.
“I’ll get it,” Prim says flatly after a moment, throwing a sardonic glance at me and Peeta on the couch. Now in a much different entanglement than we had been while watching the talk-show.
“Thanks,” I murmur unintelligibly against Peeta’s mouth, before closing my eyes in pleasure.
“Don’t strain yourselves,” she can’t stop herself from tacking on the end.
“We’ll try not to while you’re still here,” Peeta murmurs cheekily, moving his lips downwards, towards my neck, right onto my pulse point. I let out a somewhat ridiculous squeak in response.
“Hello?” Prim says lightly into the receiver, already knowing it’s our mother. No one else calls this phone, inside this hidden cabin, located in the woods surrounding Twelve.
The woods in which officials fenced off years ago. The woods in which it’s illegal to enter. The woods in which my father has taken me to hunt for families less fortunate than ours since I was a small infant.
It’s not a typical cabin found in the outskirts of Twelve. No, ordinarily a cabin out here—a cabin anywhere in Panem, really—is nothing more than a broken down shack. There’s normally nothing other than an unsteady foundation, a freezing damp floor and an unlit fireplace.
But somewhere along the lines, in the years before I was born, my parents resurrected this place from the depths of despair and expanded it, rebuilt it, refurnished and redecorated and turned it into a vast, warm, safe second home for all of us to run away to when we felt the need.
Prim listens into the receiver for a long moment before she sighs deeply and beckons me. “Katniss, can you?”
Instantly, I break away from Peeta’s embrace, cupping his face and pulling him back from my collarbone.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as I scramble off the couch, my anxiety abruptly spiked. “Did something happen?” I search Prim’s eyes as I take the phone from her but, to my utter relief, all I find there is blatant, unmasked disappointment.
I already know what my mother is going to say before I put the phone to my ear. “Hi?”
“Hi, honey,” she murmurs, her voice both strained and higher than typical. Which indicates she’s trying to put up a front for us right now, when she’d rather be moping in bed. “Your father just called. Evidently Effie Trinket informed him he has more scheduled commitments to fulfill before he can come home.”
I deflate, already prepard, knowing this was coming. Isn’t it always coming inadvertently? My father has never been home when he was scheduled to be in my life. No matter the holiday, the birthday, the emergency or event, the Capitol demands that they comes first to him. Not even my birth could upstage his commitments. He wasn’t allowed to return home to Twelve, to meet his firstborn child, until his press events were done and over with.
It’s no wonder he refuses to put on show for those people.
“Okay,” I mumble after a moment, not even convinced my mother is even still there on the other end.
“It’ll be alright,” she says, as positively as she can. “He’ll be home as soon.”
“Yeah.” I try and fail miserably to match her tone. I inherited my father’s ability to act. Or inability, that is.
There’s the faint sound of crying in the background, and my heart aches a bit. “I’m sorry, honey, I have to go check on Archer,” she apologizes as a way of saying goodbye.
I make my way into the kitchen as soon as we hang up. Prim is standing by the counter, staring at the same magazine our father sent three weeks ago.
Peeta comes up behind me then, his hand rubbing my back in comforting circles. “Your father delayed again?”
I nod silently, as my eyes focused on my little sister now. She’s trying her best to hold back the upset that’s threatening to take over.
And without hesitation, my instincts to protect my family from anything and everything painful kick in. “Prim, it’s okay. It’s probably only going to be another week before he’s back,” I console, stepping closer to her small frame and touching her back.
It’s all the initiation she needs before spinning around into my arms and clinging onto me tight. “He’s never around,” she cries into my neck—I’m not much taller than her—as her shoulders shake with tears.
I feel Peeta’s eyes on me, measuring my reaction to Prim’s words. He’s heard me cry the same thing time and time again, he knows the familiarity of this scene better than anyone should.
“He tries his best, Prim,” I whisper thickly into her long, blonde hair. She’s fair and light, like our mother. Like a merchant or peacekeeper. Looking at my little sister, you’d never consider her to be the daughter of a man from the Seam.
But you’d easily believe that she was a girl raised in Victor’s Village and I suppose that’s what counts. Where we were raised and not where we could have been, if things had gone different.
“He’s never really going to be ours though,” she weeps and I don’t have words to comfort her now. Because she’s right.
Our father will always belong to the Capitol, first and foremost.
And not even his children can upstage that.
/
Prim leaves not long later, to head home to Victor’s Village and more than likely curl up with our mother for the night. They’ve both always been so alike, so much softer and more hopeful than me. I half expect every trip of our father’s to double in time, if not triple. After a lifetime of disappointments, I can’t help but prepare myself.
It’s not that they’re weak for believing. It’s that I have too much Hunter Everdeen in me. I have too much pessimism crawling inside my bones to ever fully trust that he’s really coming home until he’s already stepped off the train in Twelve.
Too many hours of my childhood were spent, wearing fancy stockings and warm, fur-lined coats, standing at the train station, only to welcome a load of cargo and no father in sight. Too many times were phone calls answered in tears. Too many night spent crying, clinging to my father’s hunting jacket, so disoriented by the hazardous schedule in which our lives were ran, waiting for my father to phone, waiting for him to walk through the front door, waiting for him to sneak up on us in the middle of the night or pull us from class on a school day.
That was the true constant in my life. Waiting for my father to finally come home, knowing every moment we shared was on borrowed time. Knowing that he’d never truly belong to us. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting to hear my mother’s bedroom door slam and lock, waiting to hear Prim cry or Archer wail, waiting to see that defeated glint in my father’s slate gaze.
I close the cabin door behind my sister now, knowing with confidence that she’ll make it home alright, even with the sun currently setting in the faded blue sky.
Our father never took Prim hunting like he did me, never brought her out to the woods and taught her to shoot a bow and arrow, never showed her how to trap and kill an animal. But even still, the path from the cabin to our home in Victor’s Village is imprinted in our brains, like a birthmark or tattoo. We’d be able to find our way to and from, even if we were sleepwalking.
As would Peeta. Considering this is the place he spends the majority of his time.
Considering this cabin may as well be his permanent address.
And if it weren’t illegal, it very well might be, I think to myself wryly as I walk over to where he’s leaning against the doorframe now.
“Hello,” I greet again, hopping onto my tiptoes and kissing his lips lightly.
He grasps my hips, smiling against my mouth. “Don’t you have to get home too?” He hesitantly asks, his desire to keep me here bleeding through every caress of his fingers, as they trail underneath my loose shirt, sliding upwards and causing an electric current to ripple through the core of my body.
But I just shake my head at his inquiry, moving my mouth from his to kiss down the side of his face, underneath his jawline.
“Mmm,” he moans after a long moment, before suddenly putting a few more inches between us. “Are you sure your mother won’t miss you?”
Peeta’s always been considerate of my mother. Too considerate sometimes, if I do say so myself. Bordering on obsessive.
He is obsessed with keeping her approval, with never crossing any invisible line, with never even so much as mildly exasperating her.
I suppose it’s only natural though. She is the only parental figure he has in his life.
I’ve never been too enthusiastic to introduce him to my father and he’s never pushed the issue too far. Hunter Everdeen is a practical legend around Twelve—and beloved across the entirety of Panem—but he’s the reason, I’ve always privately felt, that I was isolated from all my classmates.
Sure, I’m already not the most friendly person to start with, in anyone’s book. As Haymitch never hesitates to tell me. But there was already very little chance of me making friends in school anyway. Being the victor of the Forty-Seventh Hunger Games’ child dropped the chances of play-dates or sleepovers drastically. My father trusts no one. Not with his children.
And I didn’t mind for the most part. I’m too like him to enjoy people much anyway. This whole notion was much harder on Prim, who adored her fellow classmates and easily endeared herself to them as well. But no matter how darling my little sister may be, nothing changed our father’s mind and when he was set on something, it was practically written in stone.
I can’t even imagine how Peeta must feel, having to live in fear for the entire last year of our little secret being exposed. I may be nervous about how my father will react, but Peeta has to be outright petrified.
“My mother will be fine,” I murmur, rolling my eyes as I lean back against the wall now. “She’s got Prim and Archie to keep her sane until my father’s home.”
Peeta chuckles at me, a mirthful smile in his eyes. “And you got me,” he teases, tapping my nose with his finger.
I giggle in a way I withheld until Prim left. I wasn’t about to give her ammunition to mock me later on. “All to myself,” I add, matching his expression now. “For unlimited hours of the day.”
“That’s my girl, looking on the bright side.”
I snort. “Yeah, that’s me.” I’m the exact opposite of an optimist. I prefer expecting the worse and setting expectations low. Maybe it’s a learned behavior but, at least that way, I’m not crushed like my mother when things don’t pan out the way I want.
Peeta mistakes the look on my face to be one of hidden disappointment. “You’re father will be home soon, sweetheart. They can’t keep him in the Capitol forever.”
“Can’t they?” I mumble, not expecting an answer. Before he can offer one—because Peeta is nothing if not a fixer—I quickly segue to a new topic. “Where do you think you’ll go when my father does come home?”
He just shrugs the question off though, completely unbothered. “Anywhere but home,” he says simply, his stunning blue eyes clear as the sky they remind me of.
“Anywhere but there,” I agree, my smile twisting into a grimace.
/
A year ago, when I was barely fifteen, President Snow—Panem’s true Gamemaker, my father always said—demanded every victor extend their stay in the Capitol, even after the games ended that year. He gave no outright reason and my father was cagey to speak on the subject, but in the end, the president’s word was law and there was no room for argument. President Snow can demand of us whatever he wishes.
It was a cold, dreary autumn that year, with early snowfall, which was the leading cause to the significant increase in accidents and injuries. My mother, the born healer, had more patients than she could handle, and even while training Prim as her assistant, she required my help. I was to head to town and purchase a list of herbs from the apothecary shop her parents still owned. The people who disowned her, who had little to no interest in her after she married a man from the Seam, victor or not. The people who never cared to meet their own grandchildren, to acknowledge our existence even as we passed right by their shop, in their plain sight.
I was dragging my feet the entire walk there, already with a sour taste in my mouth, when I heard the loudest wail my ears had every registered. When I heard sharp words being screamed out, when the sound of a boy sobbing filled the air.
And my instincts took over, my every sense focused on finding the hurt and helping them, altogether forgoing the trip for my mother’s herbs.
I followed the commotion to the bakery’s backdoor. Right through the open threshold, it was crystal clear, the baker’s wife—the witch, as many of the kids at school referred to her—had beaten her youngest son senselessly.
He’s in my year, I’d realized abruptly, staring with an agape mouth at his bloody face. His eye was swelling and his nose and lip were smeared scarlet and the only thing that crossed my mind at first, was I recognized him as the blonde boy with the colorful notebook, who could never meet my eyes and always wore long sleeves.
Of course, I snapped out of the daze after only a moment. The witch turned and caught sight of me, snapping that no Seam brat was going to get any free handouts from her and to scatter before she called the Peacekeepers.
Something about the unmasked prejudice against the Seam, a place where people in Twelve had next to nothing and were seen as lesser than the merchants, jolted me into action.
“Get your hand off him!” I’d demanded, using my entire body weight, just as my father taught me, to push the door open as she tried to close it in my face. “Let him go or I swear I’ll make you regret it.”
At that, I heard an ugly laugh and the door flew open again, my exerted force throwing it back into the wall.
“I’m serious, child,” she snaps, her blue eyes narrow and her mouth in a snide smirk. “I will call the Peacekeepers to remove you from my shop-”
I didn’t even let her finish. I wasn’t one to be messed with. Not when I just witnessed something awful firsthand, not when I had it in my power to do something.
I knew then I couldn’t bring my father home. He was owned by the president and the Capitol. To an extent, we all were. And I knew I couldn’t stop the games from happening or the possibility of my name being pulled from the reaping bowl. I couldn’t always make my mother come out of her room or even out of her bed, when her illness struck bad. And I couldn’t stop my siblings from crying for our father at night.
But I knew that day in the bakery, I had the power over Mrs. Mellark and I wasn’t going to let her get away with hurting her son anymore.
“Call them,” I dared, not an ounce of insecurity in my voice. “Cray is an old family friend.” He was actually indebted to my father, who’d kept the man’s secrets for too many years to count. But family friend rolled off the tongue more effectively.
“Head Peacekeeper is now making friends in the Seam?” She spat in disbelief. “No wonder this district is so rundown.”
She laughed humorlessly, but my focus was pulled towards the boy. He was covering the left side of his face, as if it hurt too badly to release. As if he was trying to stop his eye from swelling, stop his nose from gushing blood. As if he could hold his now split lip together with nothing more than the palm of his hand.
The sight hurt my heart to see. It burned a fire inside of me that only a true injustice could set alight.
“My father is Hunter Everdeen,” I snapped in the woman’s direction, not even basking in satisfaction when her face drained of all color. The idea that a scrappy little girl with olive skin and dark hair was the child of the most powerful man in all of Twelve struck a cord inside even the witch. “Still wanna make that call?”
The woman’s face was caught between anger and shock when I glanced at her again. And I hated her for it. I hated her and every single person in this district who hurt their kids, who took out their grievances on them, who made them cower and quiver in fear. Who raised them to be afraid of those they loved in a world already so awful.
I know I live a privileged life but, deep in my bones, I know even if things were different, my parents wouldn’t have laid a hand on us. Even if we were so poor I had to take tesserae, even if we were starving to the point of no return, even if we were practically homeless in the Seam, my parents would never hurt us.
“Leave,” the witch spoke then, but her voice was void of all emotion.
“Not without him,” I refused, my eyes planted on the wounded boy in front of me. The boy who was doing everything to avoid looking me in the eye, too busy covering his battered face.
I heard a sound caught between a groan and a shriek, before a cutting board was tossed across the room. “Just go!” She shouted at her son, causing him to flinch severely. “Just go with her!”
On her order, which sounded more distraught than angry, the boy had stormed out the back door and into the chilly evening air, still covering his face desperately, still looking utterly ashamed.
But he waited for me to catch up with him. He waited for me to guide him away from that awful woman he was forced to call his mother.
He didn’t flinch when I touched his arm nor when I took his hand. And when I led him away from the town and towards the village, he followed me without complaint.
Actually, he followed me without a single word.
I realized this just as my house came into view. “You never told me your name?” I whispered, looking up at him gently.
He had tears leaking from his eyes that he was doing his best to ignore, the bleeding on the left side of his face had barely even lightened up, his eye was swelling bigger and bigger, and yet, he chuckled a little at the question. “I’ve been in your class since kindergarten, Katniss.”
I felt my cheeks burn pink, even under the darkening sky. “I know.” But I still peered up at him, curiously waiting for him to tell me.
“It’s Peeta,” he finally answered, maybe a bit satirical.
“Peeta Mellark,” I suddenly recognized.
“Mhmm. Figured you’d pick up the last name.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s printed across the bakery in huge letters?”
“Oh.” He chuckled at my ignorance, causing my blush to deepen.
And I realized immediately how much I liked the sound of his laugh. How I liked being the reason for the sound.
My stomach did a complete flip at the notion and my ears abruptly felt hot, but I tried to push all this away, needing to get him to my mother.
“Wait,” he halted before I could even reached the front door. “Is your mother in there?”
I shot him a confused look. “Yeah, of course? Who else-”
I didn’t even get a chance to finish though. “I really don’t want anyone else to know about this,” he pleads, his eyes looking as frightened as they did with the witch.
“Peeta-” I start, opening my mouth argue, to convince him to go into the house and let my mother treat his injuries. To let me get him help.
But one look inside his desolated, defeated, terrified eyes and I couldn’t make myself do it. I couldn’t put him through any more than he’d already gone through. Not when he’d eventually have to go face the witch again at home.
“Okay,” I whispered, and I felt him squeeze the hand I didn’t realize I was still clutching. “Let me take you somewhere else. And I’ll try to fix you up myself.”
I wasn’t a healer like my mother and Prim. I was a hunter, just like my father, just like his very name, through and through. But I had witnessed enough of what my mother did—my father had forced me to witness enough of what she did, in case I ever needed the knowledge—and I was confident I had the expertise to help him.
My decision was validated by the relief in Peeta’s eyes, by the visible exhale he expelled from inside. He was ashamed, I realized, of his abuse. He was embarrassed to let anyone know what was happening behind closed doors.
I guided him by the hand outside the village, through the Seam—a place in which he’d never been before—and to the fence line.
“Isn’t it electrified?” He asked, his grip on my palm tightening. I liked the sensation for some reason. I liked the way his big hand felt wrapped around my small one. I liked how he wanted to hold onto me in the darkness.
“Nope,” I say, and let out a proud giggle. Or maybe a nervous one. Whenever I think back to this night, I can never tell.
“How do you know?” His blonde eyebrows knit together, still afraid in a way I’d never had to be. My father had taught me everything there was to know about the woods from a young age.
“Listen,” I urge softly, leaning my ear towards the fence.
He cranes forward too, waiting for the buzz of electricity to fill his ears. Only, just as I knew, it never does. Because it never has. The fence’s electricity was shut off long before we were even born.
I watched as his face registered the silence, as he realized and trusted I was right. And I beamed at him, before showing him the way my father slips beyond the fence and guiding him through the trees, towards the cabin, buried deep inside the woods.
It took an hour to find, not because of the blackened sky, but because Peeta’s face hurt so badly that his gait was slowed. But I remained patient, even though that was never my strong suit either. I waited for him to pick up the pace, to be ready to move, to find our way through the tall green trees. I pulled all the branches I could see out of his path, used the moon as our flashlight and didn’t complain once when he stumbled along the way.
By the time we got to the cabin, it had to be past Archer’s bedtime. My mother would be worried sick for me, but I soothed myself that she had plenty on her plate. I’m her firstborn. The child she understands the least, the one who’s like her husband in body and soul. I knew I was probably near the bottom of her worry list.
The very first thing I did when we entered the cabin was order Peeta to sit down in the dining room. I gathered my mother’s first aid kit from the bathroom, wet a rag in cool water and I got to work cleaning the blood from his face.
“This has to be gross for you,” he murmurs after a long stretch of silence. His eyes betrayed how self-conscious he must have felt.
Trying to alleviate his anxiety, I pretended to shrug it off. “My mother cleans wounds all the time. At our kitchen table, no less.”
Peeta made a noise that indicated he didn’t buy my act of ease. “I heard at school that you run from the sick and injured.”
I raised my eyebrows at the comment. No one at school talked about me. No one knew me well enough to. People stopped trying to get close to any of Hunter Everdeen’s kids years ago.
The longer I stared at Peeta in disbelief, the more he seemed to lose confidence in his statement. “Maybe I didn't hear it,” he finally amended. I brought the damp cloth back up to his face again as a reward, tenderly wiping away the blood, before using the clean side to set against his swelling lid, hoping to offer some pain reduction there as well. “Maybe I saw it,” he added sheepishly.
I furrowed my brows, even more perplexed by the elaboration. “Saw it?”
“When Leaf Barker tripped and broke his knee in Physical Education last year? You were almost green when you bolted out of the gymnasium.”
His words conjured up a vague image. Still though, something about this felt odd to me.
“How do you remember that better than I do?”
At that, Peeta shrugged. “I guess, I notice you sometimes?”
“What do you mean, sometimes?” I pressed, none of his words suddenly making a bit of sense.
“Why did you stick up for me tonight?” He abruptly segued, his expression shifting into something of defense, like he’s trying to deflect.
But I’m not one to be deterred. “I wasn’t going to stand there and watch your mother hurt you,” I stated, my voice remaining firm. “Why?”
He continued to walk around my question. “Is tonight the first night you ever noticed me?”
I pulled my hand and the damp cloth away from his wounded face, reaching in the kit to grab a white cream I’d seen my mother and Prim both use on swelling before. “Yes,” I finally replied, because I don’t know what else to say. That I saw him glance at me sometimes and then watched as his eyes flit away? That I noticed how he doodled in math class, because he found the subject boring? That I’d seen him lift a sack easily over his shoulder at the bakery and watched him beat almost every upperclassmen at wrestling, even while three years their junior?
None of that seems even remotely relevant to mention.
“When was the first time you noticed me?” I shot back, still being careful to apply the cream with only the lightest pressure to his battered eye.
“Kindergarten,” he instantly blurted out, his tone simple and bold.
I stared at him in disbelief for a long moment before chuckling, catching the joke. “Funny.”
“I’m serious,” he refuted, peaking his good eye open, the sky meeting a silver dollar as our gaze locked. And I see that he is serious somehow.
“What?”
“The first day of kindergarten,” he continued, after a long beat of me just staring him. His confidence had wavered once again and he was looking a bit regretful that he’d put this out in the open. “You were wearing a red velvet dress and brown stockings. Your hair was in two braids instead of one and your ribbons matched your dress. The teacher asked during music assembly who knew The Valley Song and your hand shot right up. She put you on a stool and you sang it, clear as day, for everyone to hear. Even the birds outside stopped to listen. And from that moment on… I was a goner.”
I just continued to look at him in disbelief, unable to put the pieces of what he’s said together. Finally, I whispered, “you’re telling the truth?”
“I’ve had a crush on you for forever,” he admitted, his singularly open eye giving away his nerves at the admission. “And I know you probably don’t feel the same way. I know you didn’t even know my name until tonight but I just wanted to say, in case we never have the chance to speak again-”
“Stop,” I cut him off, my mind already about to explode. “Stop, um…” I refused to look at him as I spoke, furiously staring down at my lap. “I need more time to… process this.”
He had a crush on me since the first day of kindergarten? He’d heard me sing and from that day forward he held a hidden candle for me?
And he never once worked up the courage to talk to me?
Dozens of moments suddenly race through my mind.
Cerulean blue eyes finding me in a crowd countless times and then pulling away as soon as I meet them. The time I wanted to play a stupid game at recess and a stocky blonde boy volunteered to be team captain, and then picked me first. The stunning drawing I found in my locker last year on Sweetheart’s Day, that I was convinced was put there by mistake, though it bore a striking resemblance to the doodles on Peeta’s notebook.
And before I could stop it, I felt myself begin to shake with nerves.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he apologized, seeing my frightened reaction. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just… I didn’t know if I’d ever get the opportunity to tell you again-”
“Shhh,” I hushed, picking up the damp cloth once more. “Let me take care of your face. And then…” I hesitated again, unsure what to say in this situation. I had exactly zero experiences to compare this to. “Tomorrow we can talk more.”
Peeta nodded amicably, staying silent for the reminder of my ministrations. I felt a terrible pang of guilt for not responding the way he’d probably hoped, but there was still a part of me too stunned to even fully register the confession.
I was an outcast. I’d never fit in with the kids at school, neither town or Seam. I don’t look like the merchants and I’m too rich for the Seam folk. I would have been alone all the time at school if it weren’t for Madge Undersee, the mayor’s daughter who sat with me at lunch and partnered with me in class.
How could anyone have even noticed me to be anything other than strange? I barely spoke, even in classes where I knew all the answers. And I hardly participated in games or gossip. I had a father who insisted most days on picking me up himself from school, not allowing me to walk home alone like the other kids.
But the look in Peeta’s eyes was earnest. He wasn’t playing some elaborate trick on me, he wasn’t trying to coerce me into confessing something as well so he could humiliate me. He was being genuine in every way I could tell. And I had my father’s senses.
The same senses that helped him win his hunger games.
A new thought struck me out of the blue. Peeta seemed too kind and too considerate to have a mother who beat him like this. He doesn’t fit the profile of the kids in the community home, brought there by even less abuse than I witnessed firsthand tonight.
The insane urge to get to know him more, to learn more about this complete stranger who I went out on an impulsive limb for suddenly surges through my brain.
It wouldn’t be a good idea, I told myself. He’s a merchant and I’m the daughter of a victor. Two titles that seem not far apart in theory but are miles away from the other in practice. And I’m not experienced with people the way he is. I don’t know how to make friends or how to maintain them. I don’t know what he expects from me but it’s surely more than I know how to give. I don’t know what to say in a situation like this. Haymitch always tells me I’m as romantic as dirt.
But is that what I want to be? I asked myself as I finished fixing Peeta up. Do I want to be romantic? Do I want to be that girl who holds her boyfriend’s hand in the town square and kisses him under the moonlight? Do I want to put an embroidered ribbon in my hair and wear an expensive dress from the Capitol to go to the Sweetheart’s Dance? Do I want to sneak in through my bedroom window at the crack of dawn so my father won’t know I’ve been out all night?
If I could learn to be romantic, would I want to be?
And naturally, the answer I’ve always known automatically seeps through my brain. No. I’m not like my mother and Prim. I’m practical by nature, rather than fanciful. I’ve never truly obsessed about falling in love or fawned over even the most incredible looking men on the television.
But something held me back now. Something inside me said that answer, the truth I’d always known, is suddenly not entirely accurate anymore.
Because I find that I did want those things I just described. I did want to have someone to hold, someone to laugh with, someone who conjured up that same flip in my stomach as Peeta did earlier when he laughed.
I wanted the same kind of love my parents had. The kind of love that brought them both to life, despite the horrible circumstances they’d both separately endured. I wanted the kind of love that they showed me was possible, even in a world as bleak and as inhumane as Panem felt at times.
I only realized how long I’d been silent, contemplating my inner desires, when Peeta offered a minuscule smile and stood up slowly to leave.
I opened my mouth to speak but when his eyes met mine, every thought in my head was magically wiped away. I had nothing to say, nothing that could be of any sort of consequence, that could mean anything in comparison to his confession.
“I should head back to town,” he murmured, trying to appear nonchalant. “Face my mother. Hope she’s in a better mood now-”
But I couldn’t stand the idea of him returning to the witch, the idea of going to school tomorrow and acting like his words weren’t still spinning around my brain, the idea of even sleeping soundly tonight.
“Peeta,” I called just as he was about to reach the front door. “Wait!”
He turned towards me, looking puzzled by my outburst. “What’s wrong?”
And I don’t know what came over me. I still can’t place what made me—a girl who had never been decisive a day in her life—fling myself across the room and smash my lips onto his.
He didn’t respond at first. I caught him too completely by surprise. His lips hung there, frozen, as mine pushed against his, with too much force and an overload of desperation.
But I felt an incredible stirring in my chest, an odd sensation that felt akin to a giggle amplified.
And when he finally recovered from the shock of it all, his hands both came to rest on either side of my hips, his mouth began to move against mine, his knees bent to reach my height with more success, and the stirring turned to a fiery spark. I know he felt it too, as the kiss was swiftly disturbed by his wide grin.
“Don’t go back home tonight,” I gasped out, looking up at him, wide-eyed and breathless.
His gaze melted as he took me in, he head bobbing in agreement without even needing to consider my request.
“Okay,” he’d whispered with a dazed smile, his blue eyes impossibly wild and sleepy at the same time.
His expression, his spirit somehow, was contagious, and I found myself somewhere stuck between a laugh and a blush when I replied.
“Okay.”
/
After that night, Peeta rarely went back home. I had called my mother and let her know I was staying at the cabin, but intentionally eluded telling her that the baker’s son was joining me. We’d spent the entire night talking in front of the fire, making each other laugh. The bashfulness I felt from my unexpected kiss stayed in my gut, causing me to bubble up with embarrassed laughter every so often.
But instead of that making things awkward, it cut the tension pretty smoothly. It was only months later did Peeta confess he’d felt just as nervous and just as shy about spending time with me. He was charismatic, I realize even that first night. Ironically funny. He was nice, in a way I rarely have found anyone to be. And, the more time went on, the more my desire grew to stay close to him. The more often I was around him, the more painfully I missed him when we were apart.
It was only a matter of time until my mother found out—not least of all, because my siblings accidentally caught us kissing in back of the school, a month to the day we first spoke.
I always imagined she’d be strict on me, the firstborn, when it came to dating. Especially in the world we lived in. Especially with my father’s position. I truly thought she’d forbid a relationship until I was of age. Maybe I was wrong about her. Or maybe she just saw how I looked at Peeta and understood that I wasn’t just being careless or rebellious. That whatever magnetic connection I felt towards Peeta wasn’t just an ordinary school-aged fling.
To my surprise as well, my mother seemed to take on a very similar stance to me when it came to Peeta and my father. Keeping the news of this entanglement from her husband’s ears was almost her idea.
“What are you thinking about?” Peeta asks me now, bringing me back to the present moment. His fingers tickle my neck as they brush my hair back behind my ear, touching one of the satin green ribbons weaved throughout my loose braids.
“You,” I reply coyly, shooting him a sly glance as I slip past him to head back towards the kitchen.
“Me?” He calls in mock disbelief. He trails up behind me, catching me by the waist and swinging me into his arms without warning.
“Peeta!” I exclaim, automatically wrapping myself around him as I try to steady my balance midair.
“What, baby?”
“Put me down, baby,” I mock, pressing my nose to his now, rubbing them together.
“I like holding you though,” he whispers, like he’s confessing some huge secret.
“Until your arms gets tired-”
“That was one time, Katniss.”
“I’m just reminding you,” I say with an air of superiority. “You don’t always appreciate holding me.”
At that, his demeanor falls a little. “I do when I realize I won’t be seeing you much in a few days.”
I feel my heart sink now too. As excited as I am at the prospect of my father coming home, after weeks apart, I always have to be a little more careful upon his first days back.
He always likes to spend time at the cabin and go for long walks in the woods upon his return. Spend more time in nature than the indoors, stay far away from people outside our family, sleep under the stars by the lake. The Capitol is apparently luxurious, but in my father’s own words, it is void of any true or natural beauty. Everything is artificial, man-made, concocted and orchestrated. There’s nothing that compares in his mind—or mine either—to a cool breeze on a sunny day spent in the meadow where the dandelions grow tall.
“But I’ll still see you in school?” I say, though my voice comes out as more of a plea. Peeta doesn’t always like to attend school these days, not when he knows his parents can easily track him down there.
His father, the baker himself, took the ambiguous loss of his youngest—his favorite—son particularly hard. It was only a matter of weeks after I intercepted his mother beating him that Peeta definitively decided to sever ties with majority of his family.
I’d like to say he made the choice all on his own but that’d be a lie. I watched as the physical bruises on his skin healed, as he began to peel back emotional layer upon layer to me, as he slowly told me what really had been going on in the Mellark’s family home. And I can’t say that I was impartial to his decision to cut the connection to a mother with a bruising fist and a father who closed his eyes and let it happen.
“Delly’s parents usually make me go to school so…” He shrugs it off, like it’s of no consequence, his arms hoisting me higher against his chest.
But I feel a sudden wave of gratitude towards the Cartwrights. They may be a little too jolly for my liking and their daughter, Delly, maybe can’t take a hint to save her life, but at least they always watch out for Peeta’s well-being. At least they cover for him when his mother come sniffing around and they feed him what they can afford and force him to attend class, where I’ll be able to see him.
“Good,” I murmur, at peace now. My father will be home soon and Peeta will be safely tucked away with his best friend.
I lean down and kiss his nose sweetly, reveling in the tender moment. His lips follow my lead and begin to plant themselves across my chin, underneath my jaw, causing me to squirm and squeal at the sensation.
“So,” he murmurs against my throat. “We have the entire place to ourselves, for the whole night, huh?”
His audacious smile elicits my own. “At least.” My father’s delays usually mean a minimum of two days.
Within a minute, Peeta has me on my back, against the softly quilted bed of my upstairs room. He takes his time helping me out of my clothes before I hurriedly shove his off, impatient and hungry.
He, of course, finds time to crack a joke. “Good thing Archie is too young to come here unchaperoned. Or else we’d never get the chance to do this.”
I roll my eyes and shove his mouth off my collarbone, utterly disgusted now. “Talking about my baby brother is one sure way to turn me off, Peeta.”
Archer, my three-old-brother, was an unexpected surprise, to put it lightly. My parents were done with two girls. My father joked him and my mother were both already set with one clone each, but alas, the year of the Seventieth Hunger Games was a year full of shocks.
A few months before the games that year, the coal mines—the industry Twelve is known for—exploded. Right in the middle of the afternoon, as everyone was obliviously going about their day.
It was a close call for many and one more reason my father is beloved around these parts. If he hadn’t been at the right place, at the right time, if he hadn’t volunteered to go with Prim and her class on a field trip down to the mines that day, there was a chance that no one would have noticed the gas leak.
It was too late to do anything by the time my father pointed it out, but his warning and the fact that people in Twelve take his word very seriously, managed to save the lives the inevitable explosion would have otherwise cost.
Through the outpouring of gratitude, and the overwhelming media coverage my whole family was abruptly bombarded with, my parents made the decision to pull me and Prim from school for a while, to hole up in the remodeled cabin, where no one could find us because of its illegal location.
I’ve never ask and I don't ever want to know when my parents conceived Archer. But about nine months after the vacation from the world, my mother gave birth to a little boy who looked identical to me and my father.
“Sorry,” Peeta whispers with a chuckle, collapsing beside me. “I’ll make it up to you.”
He moves to kiss my stomach, to trace circles on my hips like he always does. But I shake my head, a different request—or more like it, demand—on my mind.
“Tell me the story of how you first fell in love with me?”
Peeta rolls his eyes. Very dramatically. “You mean a year ago?”
“I mean in kindergarten,” I say with a smirk and then let out a shriek of surprise when he pounces on me, his lips attacking my neck.
“Aren’t you tired of that story yet?” He asks, his voice edging on exasperated.
“You never tire of a classic.” I give him a pout, knowing he never refuses me anything when I pull that trick.
I’m right, as per usual. “Fine,” he relents, but his eyes tell me that he enjoys telling this tale more than he leads on. “Come here.” He holds open his arms and waits for me to crawl into them, to settle against his chest.
I lay there for a long moment, my pointer finger running up and down the center of his bicep, as my ear rests against his heartbeat, patiently waiting for him to begin.
“It was the very first day of school. You were wearing a red, velvet dress…”
/
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hey so I’m not trying to be gross but this genuinely something that I wonder about like how does mc survive on her period in a mansion full of vampires? Especially with a pure blood like Comte or Leonardo like can’t they sense it? sorry if this is weird I’m just genuinely interested In like pure blood and vampire lore and like what they pick up on especially comte as he’s a fave. I’d love to hear your thoughts as always I love your posts and I hope you’re doing well and staying safe and healthy 💛☺️
Haha, please don’t worry! 😂😂😂 I’ve often wondered about the very same thing, and while I don’t have any canon answers, I can offer the most likely scenario from my understanding of the game. Hope you’re doing well too, lovely, thank you! Stay safe out there~💛💛💛
Given what I know, and the fact that blood is only a small component of the discharge that comes with one’s period, I’d wager it poses a low risk generally speaking. I think the plan would be to make sure everyone’s on guard and has been keeping up with their usual doses of Blanc/Rouge (no waiting until you starve, Jeanne, yes that is a threat) but otherwise everyone proceeds as they normally would. I think it would be hardest on the vamps who are most sensitive to the presence of blood/have a harder time controlling their thirst, like Isaac and Arthur.
Purebloods have been canonically established as having a much lower tendency to bloodlust by comparison to lesser/turned vampires, so I very much doubt Comte or Leonardo would react much. A blip on the screen for them, nothing more. (I often categorize Jeanne as the closest to pureblood level reactivity because his ability to control the thirst is exceptional; the only time he has ever come close to attacking MC was when he was at a point of intense starvation.) I think the only time her period could potentially become risky is if one of them was starving (and therefore reacting on the level of base instinct) or grievously injured. If they have feelings for her or she’s in a relationship with one of them, it may make them want to bite her more, but I don’t think they’d necessarily act on it. I’d assume most of them would be reluctant because MC is already losing blood as it is? Better to be safe than sorry, and all that.
As for whether or not they can anticipate it, I’m really not sure? It’s possible they might sense hormonal changes, but given I haven’t seen them react to anything so slight I can’t be sure. Purebloods I’d say it’s a coin toss; it’s very possible they can sense it before it comes--but I just have no way of knowing for sure. Lesser vampires, I very much doubt it.
That being said, you bring up a very timely contention (for me) as of late. Which is to say: what are purebloods capable of sensing? I’ll be elaborating on a recent JPN collection story event that included Comte, as it had a very interesting tidbit that I’d like to share with y’all. It isn’t a huge spoiler as I’ll be focusing on the pureblood lore that was included, but for those who don’t want to see it I’ll be placing it under a cut. (Also some slight spoilers for Comte and Leo’s main story rt).
Mandatory spoiler warning:
So this last event featured MC and her suitor taking care of a child for a few days, in which they act like a pair of surrogate parents. Naturally, being a feral Comte stan, I got his story. In it, both he and MC are taking care of a young girl named Emma--the daughter of a fellow aristocrat (a friend of his). At some point during the story, MC accidentally loses sight of Emma while hanging up the laundry. MC searches the entire mansion but can’t find her anywhere, and she begins to panic when Comte encounters her. Alarmed, he gently asks her what’s wrong and she explains what happened. There’s a brief pause [”...”] and then he says “It’s okay, MC. Emma is–”. Comte then leads her to the gazebo where the little tyke is fast asleep, taking a midday nap in the shade. Naturally MC is relieved to see her safe, but also a little baffled as Comte led her directly to Emma.
MC: “I’m so glad she’s okay. But…how did you know she’d be here?”
Comte: “Purebloods are good at sensing/detecting nearby human beings.”
And I ????? Granted it’s possible it got translated incorrectly but...I really don’t understand how else he would have known exactly where she was? If MC asked around and searched the entire place and still couldn’t find any trace of her, how would Comte have just known in an instant? Additionally, if he spotted her before he found MC panicking, then I doubt he would have just left her there without an adult/guardian nearby--he would have either stayed there or taken her with him.
So this makes it plenty plausible that he really did just sense her presence in the vicinity. But........like..........howmst in the fuck. Is that even possible. I have no idea, but I find it a little shocking that I’ve only discovered this now? I mean maybe I missed it somewhere else where this tidbit of lore came up, but as far as I know they don’t discuss it much? The most I remember is Comte giving very clear indications that purebloods were able to sense each other, but I assumed that was restricted to purebloods only...
That being said I’ve been thinking about it and, well, there are at least three pretty strong instances in the game that could affirm his claim in this story. Namely: the beginning of the story itself (Comte’s POV of the prologue), the kidnapping incident in Comte’s main story, and the beginning of Leonardo’s main story.
I remember @a-maidens-dream asking about something very interesting in Comte’s POV story, and at the time I was a little unsure what to do with the information--it wasn’t aligning in a way that made sense. But I think this might help that tidbit fall into place? I think that Comte really hadn’t realized she followed him into the door until she was already in the mansion, and as such this ability to sense humans would explain why he knew she was there before Napoleon even told him anything. If purebloods can sense human people, then he would know a human being entered the house because of the species signature; the only human person living there otherwise was Sebastian. I’m not sure if the sixth sense is acute enough for him to be able to differentiate between human people. (My guess is that it’s not that specific, or if it is, the pureblood has to know the person very well to be sure.)
Building on that, this is a subtle distinction, but it still stood out for me. In his main story route, both MC and a fellow aristocrat (a woman she was friends with) are taken to these small cabin things in the middle of the woods. All Comte, Napoleon, and Jeanne have to go on is the general location of these hideouts. They decide to split up; Comte goes one way, Napoleon and Jeanne go another. I find this instance particularly interesting because Comte’s POV indicates a kind of loss of rational thought--he is 100% in a panic state, just moving to satisfy one objective: save MC before time runs out. This suggests that Comte very much could have been relying on that sense to pinpoint her and her assailants. We have no evidence to believe he was ever a soldier or somebody with extensive experience in tracking--or that knew the landscape well. But he only trusts she’s alive and unharmed for sure when he has her in his arms again, suggesting either that this sixth sense has its limits (in regards to specificity of the person being detected) or that his judgement in that moment was too compromised for it to be clear.
The last one, and perhaps the funniest possibility of the three, lies in the beginning of Leonardo’s main story route. Iirc, Leonardo spends much of that time hauling MC around the mansion to interact and properly situate herself in the mansion’s social dynamic. While this may just be a coincidence, MC notes that she actively tried to hide from him and make herself scarce, but whenever she tried no amount of stealth worked. One can certainly argue he just paid attention or asked other residents about where she was, but I do think it’s worth considering? I need to re-look at the chapters, but I seem to recall her trying to hide in a garden shed and he still found her immediately and just picked her up and walked right back out.
Tl;dr: So does this mean Comte/Leo can sense when MC is on her period? I have no idea, but at this point I really can’t be sure what abilities they do and don’t have!
#asks#ikevamp#ikemen vampire#ikevamp meta#ikevamp comte#ikevamp saint germain#ikevamp leonardo#ikevamp leo#ikevamp jpn spoilers#i dont need sleep i need a n s w e r s yall holy shit#i'm torn bc i feel like i sound like a conspiracy theorist but i also#can't shake this feeling that there are hints of it in the storyline#oh well i will at the very least be paying closer attention moving forward#its interesting to me because like#its such an expansion of comte's character construction to know this?#in that like#he has every capacity to sense whether or not she's alive to some extent it seems#and yet he literally can't calm down/trust it as a result of the trauma#i love this little character detail--it feels v apt considering his contradictory nature#but i digress!#hopefully this was interesting and/or informative#happy to answer though the topic is a bit odd HAHA#thank you for the ask lovely! <3#rambles#not incorrect quotes#tw: period talk
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Alright, with the first demised, let's start a game I like to call "Life or Death" (feel free to suggest a cooler name)
You can either @ someone or join in the chain. Below is a list of people who made it to week 8 and you need to say why you want them to win AND how you would like to see them die.
Let's create some cool theories, headcannons and angst :3
I'll start:
The rebels:
Scott
Win: I want to see Scott go absolutely feral. The widow takes all the oppoturnities to avenge his husband and still manages to come out on top to claim the title of survivor. The win for the gays!
Loss: I want Martyn to be the one to kill Scott. They were THE chaos duo, allies since day one and even made a potion monopoly together. The angst here is big. Especially considering that indirectly it would be Jimmy's fault, as he was the one to break this friendship.
Grian
Win: Grian deserves to win just for all the traps he tried to set up and failed /j The person who indebted themselves and died when it was too late and couldn't get out, the person with the highest kill count and the most activated tnt stats does deserve to win for all that effort + keeping Scar alive.
Loss: Being killed by Scar. Like just this one time, Scar actually wants to kill/has to kill and kills his old buddy. Or dying to Scott or Martyn, so we know who was the best green out of the red/green duos /j Dying to a fellow blue sword is the real angst :)
Scar
Win: Okay but imagine Scar, the person who everyone expected to die first. The one who was the first yellow AND red would be the last one alive. Also I stand by the headcannon Scar has intimidating aura, which is why he survives his encounters.
Loss: The obvious angsty one is being killed by Grian or his trap. But I do vibe with the idea of Scar being killed by Bdubs, who angrily lays his body in the coffins infront of the crastle >:)
Or Scar being killed by Tango. But like seriously, Tango is probably the only person outside of the rebels, who Scar genuinely cares for. And Tango could get revenge for week 6, where Scar nearly blew Tango up.
The crastle:
Tango
Win: His double, triple, quadruple agent saga was the funniest arc I've seen and I believe the wandering traitor would deserve to win, especially if him winning that Bdubs, who was the reason he died in the first place, would die. Even more justice for our boy. It would also prove the theory that being with everyone at once IS the key to victory.
Loss: Being killed by Scar. For the reasons I stated before. Or murdered by Bdubs again. Most angst potentional would be dying to impulse OR Etho, considering they had their day 1 alliance and the wool castle arrangement :) Friendship is dead.
Impulse
Win: Impulse "Be friends with everyone" strategy will be proven superior. With an army of villigers, not only has supplies for himself, but armed others for war, so they would feel confident fighting each other. He watched his allies get slaughtered and did nothing to stop it :)
Loss: Traitors get executed :) Dying to anyone from the red army for obviois reasons. Also to Tango (Revenge for his emerald execution) or Etho, again for the wool castle allignement angst.
Bdubs
Win: The guy who was being made fun of for building a small castle that looks like a toilet and has holes in it proves to be the superior builder as he builds an unbreakable fortress. He wins this one for Cleo.
Loss: Dying to Scar so Scar be like "Good thing he bought those coffins." Or to Tango or Impulse, betrayed by the only people he had left. By the people Cleo warned him about and he told her it would be fine :)
The red army
Ren
Win: The red king proves his rp is very cool and poggers and not cringe and lame like his enemies proclaim! He will lead his army and raise to the top, becoming an eternal emperor. Why be a dog, when you can be a god?
Loss: Lissen, I know it's been said already, but Ren getting betrayed by Martyn 👀 I would love to see that. Or even Etho, who would ditch them for his wool castle buddies, oh boy.
Martyn
Win: The right-hand man becomes the ruler. The king is dead, long live the king. From a simple peasant boy bringing chaos and phantoms wherever he goes, to the most powerful man on the server. Character progression is very cool :)
Loss: Dying as he protects his king from certain death. Or being killed by Scott. OG chaotic duo, I am still not over you being enemies.
Etho
Win: They burned down his tree and kicked off his villain arc. He decided to confirm the rumours about him being the hidden anime protagonist and by the power of missiles and alliances rose to the top as the lone wolf of the group.
Loss: Betrayal from the OG village folk. They build not one, but two homes together and even after all their promises and meeting, they chose to murder him. Forever abandoned :(
BigB
Win: I really like the meme that's going around of "BigB wins by doing nothing." He would win by being in the shadows and staying loyal and honestly, what an icon.
Loss: Dying to either Grian or Martyn for the "Blue sword alliance." Less sadser death: BigB tragically dies saving his cookie for the last time 07
The wildcard:
Joel
Win: Joel saying "I can choose who I will betray." manifesting again, as people fall once again for his empty promises and he watches them all crash and burn. Once again proving that chosing sides is pointless (another Ranboo kinnie /j) and choosing people is overrated. Direct contrast to BigB's strategy. Chaotic arsonist my beloved <3
Loss: I have 2 ways for this one. First is dying to any of the people he betrayed after actually allying with a faction. The second one is dying to Scott specificaly as he tries to assasinate him once again and fails for the second time xD
@pastelicious-nova You don't have to do this kiki, but I would love to hear your thoughs <3
#3rd life smp#third life smp#scott smajor#smallishbeans#hc grian#goodtimeswithscar#bigb#hermitcraft etho#rendog#inthelittlewood#tangotek#impulsesv#bdoubleo100
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I finished watching The People vs. O.J. Simpson today and holy shit was it a wild ride. Having happened before I was even born, I knew next to nothing beyond he’s guilty but was found not guilty and the Bronco chase. That’s about it as far as what I knew going in. Little did I know that there was shit like a racist Nazi-fan cop who was WILLINGLY RECORDED accounting in GRAPHIC DETAIL his time brutalizing black people, falsifying evidence and reports, pulling interracial couples over, etc. AND talking mad shit about his police captain WHO JUST SO HAPPENED TO BE THE JUDGE’S WIFE. Like holy shit why wasn’t I told about that crazy ass shit. Fuck the Bronco chase, that’s child’s play compared to that.
Then there was the shit with the jury, which I mean I totally understand, I can’t fathom being effectively held prisoner for 8+ months with no access to the outside world. That shit would drive me to do stupid shit too. Also can I just remind y’all that judges are, if not at the actual bottom then absolutely in the bottom 5 of my all-time shit-list. They are the scum of the earth and the way we treat them is beyond obscene to me. I pray I never need to stand before one because I’m not sure I would make it out of that courtroom alive.
I also didn’t know that this was the golden era before anyone knew what the fuck a Kardashian was. Shame I missed it because it sounds truly blessed. When people kept fucking up Robert Kardashian’s name, I laughed. I also laughed at the funniest fucking scene ever which was when Robert Kardashian was telling his kids that fame is fleeting, and being famous doesn’t matter unless you’re also a good person. He basically laid it on suuuper thick that they all need to be good people if they’re famous. I don’t know if that really happened. If it did then that almost makes it sad. If it didn’t then whoever came up with the idea to add that is a comedic genius.
I will say, I don’t know to what degree of accuracy the show is when compared to the real events. The show is based upon a book that’s written about what happened, so shit could be easily misconstrued or w/e. I assumed the gist of it was legit though. What I wasn’t expecting was how this was all tied in with racism, sexism, rape, domestic violence, police brutality, etc. I mean pick a fucking cause and it’s probably in there. That’s the part that I actually kinda felt was played up for the show, but I couldn’t say for sure. The racism part for sure was real, I get that bit. But there was just an awful lot of preaching from the prosecutor, Marcia, that I just genuinely couldn’t see being real. The only reason that leads me to believe it’s real is that who in their right mind picks the OJ Simpson trial to be their vessel to preach about social justices? Just seems insane to me if your goal is to actually send a message, but whatever.
Speaking of justice, while he obviously did do it, I have to say assuming everything happened exactly the way it did in the show, I think I’d have to vote not guilty too. During the scene where the jury was deliberating the verdict, they brought up some valid (and a lot of invalid) points, but the one that stuck was the actual question that was being asked of them which was “Was it proven beyond a reasonable doubt that OJ Simpson committed the murders?” and when I really think about it, the only answer that makes sense to me is no, even though it’s obvious that he did it. A lot of the evidence was struck down, thrown out, mishandled, misrepresented, etc. and considering that at the time DNA evidence was basically nerd bullshit to any layman, then yeah, I’d say it wasn’t proven beyond a reasonable doubt.
Also I’m sorry but that man was clearly wearing the glove so why the fuck did everyone just pretend it didn’t fit? Even one of the jurors commented on it, like he’s literally wearing the glove and just doing weird shit with his hand to make it look like it didn’t fit.
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Let’s talk about zodiacs and TPN Part 1
This is largely inspired by the fact that I talk about the characters’ zodiacs nonstop in the fanfic I’m working on for my tpn witch au, and I’ve been chortling to myself the entire time about how well some of them fit their sign and how some of them just... don’t. I’m going to simply infodump about each character, their sign, element, and some attributes they fit to a t while others don’t make sense. I will also touch on compatibility for all you shippers out there, don’t worryyy. Now this isn’t at all a critique or review of the characters themselves— I know astrology is not the first thing authors consider when choosing character birthdays, if they even do at all, this is simply me rambling about my hyperfixation and projecting onto fictional characters like we all do.
A couple last notes— one character in particular (cough cough Ray) has a different “canon” birthdate from “actual” so I’ll discuss both. Also, while I will be doing surface level research to make sure I’m not talking out of my ass, im not a professional astrologist, I’m simply a witch with an enthusiasm for zodiacs. Well then, without further ado, let’s talk about the kiddos.
Emma
Birthdate: August 22nd
Sign: Leo
Element: Fire
An overview: The funniest thing to me about Emma is that she’s literally the epitome of a Leo. Fire signs are generally very outgoing and energetic—they talk a lot and tend to be the leaders of the packs. Leos in particular are incredibly admirable and truly know their way around a conversation. If I ever wanted to get stuck in an elevator for 48 hours with no wifi or connection to the outside world and only one random stranger to talk to for the entire duration, I would pick a Leo in a heartbeat. Emma is very much the leader-type, she’s someone everyone pauses and listens to when she calls for their attention, and she always prefers to talk her way out of conflict rather than fight—but not in an underhanded manipulative way, no, Leos are very genuine with their feelings and will be upfront about their reasons for their actions.
Take this scene between Emma and Leuvis for example— this to me is about the closest to perfect of a summary of what Leos are like, and how Emma fits her sign beautifully.
She doesn’t want to fight, but she will if she has to—for the good of her friends and the good of humanity. She can stick to her ideals and yet extend a hand to the enemy anyway. This is what makes Leos such a force to be reckoned with in leadership roles.
Compatibility and ships: I know I know, this is the part you’re most excited about. I’m going to attempt to refrain from sharing my opinion on each ship itself, I will simply point out which have the highest compatibility levels. First of all, essentially all signs are most compatible with 1. Other signs of the same element and 2. Their compliment sign, their elemental opposite.
Since Emma is a fire sign, she’s generally compatible with other fire signs (Sagittarius, Aries, and of course Leo) as well as Air signs (Aquarius, Gemini, and Libra). So speaking broadly, she’s compatible of course with Norman as an Aries, as well as Ray IF he truly is an Aquarius. But if we narrow it down a little bit, I should mention that fire signs being fire signs can often clash with each other because both their energies are so high (personal experience lmao), and therefore their elemental opposite, air, are generally the way to go. Usually you’ll find on astrological charts and sites that Leos are most compatible with Geminis and Aquariuses, so Ray again if he is an Aquarius, and then we bring Violet into the picture because she’s a Gemini. (Uh, speaking as a Gemini, Leos are my favorite people to date, and I always seem to crush on them as well. I have a problem. A Leo problem.) I’m so sorry Gilemma shippers but fire and earth signs are like the worst combo, I don’t know how this happened because I love Gilemma with all my heart. The stars simply did not align for us this time
Norman
Birthdate: March 21st
Sign: Aries
Element: Fire
Overview: okay listen. I didn’t believe Norman was an Aries at first because he’s not as high energy as most fire signs, but then the more I thought about it, the more it just makes sense. The most key trait to an Aries is loyalty. They are so incredibly loyal and caring to the people they love that they often neglect themselves in the process. They can be very quick to anger if someone hurts or insults their friend, and are unafraid to start a fight or commit morally gray or even black actions in service of their loved ones. Point is you don’t mess with an Aries’ family or friends. You will get burned.
All the loyalty applies to Norman so incredibly well—the way that his plans and actions revolve entirely around Emma and Ray, and the way that he sacrifices himself for their escape even though he’s terrified of dying. But even more so this loyalty strikes you in the face when he returns as William Minerva, willing and committed to full on genocide all to keep his friends alive and safe. As I’ve said Aries are quick to anger, which seemingly isn’t very present in cool-headed, thoughtful Norman, but then you remember this:
Look at his expression. Even if he doesn’t easily lose his cool, when he does it’s terrifying. So essentially Norman is a much more subtle Aries— he’s not in your face aggressive or full of energy, but he has all the hidden signs. So yeah, I honestly can’t think of any other sign that describes him better. Norman is an Aries.
Compatibility and ships: being a fire sign and all, Norman’s compatibility is actually very similar to Emma’s. He’s compatible with other Fire signs (Sagittarius, Leo, and Aries) as well as Air signs (Libra, Aquarius, and Gemini). Speaking broadly that makes him compatible with Emma and Ray again, but narrowing it down Aries are much better in general with Libras and Leos so congrats Noremma shippers you won.
Ray
“Canon” Birthdate: January 15th
“Actual” Birthdate: February 5th
“Canon” sign: Capricorn
“Actual” sign: Aquarius
“Canon” Element: Earth
“Actual” Element: Air
Overview: alright Ray is a bit of a mixed bag to unpack. Because it’s been stated that Ray’s January 15th birthday is not his actual birthday outside of the source material, then it’s reasonable for me to count both birthdays because people have different ideas of what’s canon and what’s not. Interestingly enough though, Ray does indeed fit well enough into both the Capricorn and Aquarius signs, however I personally believe one shows through him better than the other.
We’ve been talking about fire signs for Emma and Norman so it’s finally time to dive into two other elements! We’ll start with Capricorn then, the Earth sign. The most important thing to remember is that the Earth signs are the most grounded and practical. If you want someone who can give you logical and rational advice, your best bet would be the Earth signs (Air signs are also good at this but this ain’t about them. Although you will notice some overlap in traits between these two, particularly in Capricorns and Aquariuses).
We can already see the ‘practical’ side show through in Ray by the way he hyperfocuses on taking Norman and Emma to escape but insists on leaving the other kids behind. This isn’t to say he doesn’t feel for them, on the contrary, Earth signs are indeed very in tune with their emotions and empathy, but Capricorns really know how to set that part of them aside in favor of the calm and certain route. They like tangible solutions, things they can grasp with the least amount of risk, and they’re very resistant to changes—like giant rocks. This is also noticeable in how Ray gets so very flustered by Norman and Emma’s impulsivity. He clashes with both of them because Earth signs prefer to take things slow while Fire signs just like to make a leap and hope for the best.
Note how Emma says “not that I mind...” meanwhile Ray is out here going “I MIND!!” Which we learn is because of his identity as the spy. He’s got his own plan and a tangible solution to shoot for, and Norman and his impulsivity and Emma going along with it is messing everything up. Thus, he forcibly retakes control of the situation via making a deal with Norman after the traitor is revealed. Very Capricorn stuff.
And if you want an image that just completely sums up the Capricorn in Ray, here you go:
On the OTHER hand, if we’re to go off Ray’s “actual” birthdate, which was so lovingly calculated by Tempo, then we get Aquarius Ray, the Air sign. The most important things to note about the air signs is that they’re the thinkers—the farthest from impulsive, they’re the least in tune with their emotions, and they are oh so horribly indecisive. Where Earth signs will be able to give advice that adheres to both logic and emotion, Air signs stick purely to logic. Where Earth signs are able to make calm and rational decisions, Air signs will agonize over options and often find themselves lost, searching perpetually for a solution with no cracks in it. Hello. I’m an Air sign. :’))
I’m gonna come right out and say it. I hate Aquarius men. Aquarius women and enby folks, they’re great. But Aquarius men? I may, as a Gemini, get along with them in surface level casual conversation, but behind every Aquarius man’s back is a Mal waiting to strangle him the moment I am given the opportunity. I’m so sorry Ray my son but you are not an Aquarius okay. Alright. Well, let’s just talk about the parts of him that do fit Aquarius.
So from the very start Ray is obviously a thinker, someone who considers his options very carefully before he makes a decision, and someone who hates making choices based solely on emotion. In fact, he hates expressing emotions at all. Aquariuses are very good at repressing or hiding their emotions behind other emotions (most air signs are). The most common way to do this is to put up a wall of either numbness or full-on rage. We can see both in Ray.
Instead of showing vulnerability in a healthy way, he would rather do that. Ok cool Ray.
Aquariuses can also be very quiet people, and Ray’s pretty dang quiet for most of the series too. They’re the intellectuals you know are intellectuals even though they aren’t up in your face about it. Their reserved nature makes them 10x scarier when they’re genuinely angry, because boy can an Aquarius rage.
The thing about Aquarius Ray for me here is that while Ray does indeed have Aquarius energy, it’s not the Core of Ray. To me he’s so much more of an Earth sign, so therefore I diagnose Ray with Capricorn.
Compatibility and ships: ok this is a mixed bag again. Now if you got Aquarius Ray then of course he’s compatible with other Air signs (Gemini, Libra, and Aquarius) and Fire signs (Leo, Aries, and Sagittarius), which would make him compatible with Norman and Emma for sure, as well as probably Ayshe for you Rayshe shippers because my personal HC is Aquarius Ayshe.
If you’ve got Capricorn Ray, then Capricorns are compatible with other earth signs (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) and their compliment water signs (Cancer, Pisces, and Scorpio), though they’re best with Cancers and Tauruses. So yes, Anna is a Taurus, which makes Rayanna a compatible pair. But guess who’s a Cancer. Don. ALL MY RAYDON SHIPPERS GET OUT HERE YOU COWARDS IM CALLING YOUR NAME. YOU WIN THE SHIP GAME.
Gilda
Birthdate: May 13th
Sign: Taurus
Element: Earth
Overview: So again with the practical and grounded Earth signs. Tauruses now, are the most stubborn of them, which can be a little irritating at times, but it’s also a great asset when you consider how reliable they truly are. They’re bulls, which makes them solid and difficult to move, and you can always fall back on them when you’ve leapt too far ahead. Gilda is of course the epitome of reliable, and her stubbornness does show through at times—like when she’s the one person against Emma going out into danger all the time, constantly trying to talk her down into a more practical and certain solution. She’s also the first to attempt to bring Emma to see Ray’s side of the escape plan, which is very earth sign of both of them good job guys.
Compatibility and ships: I know I know I’m still upset Gilemma isn’t compatible astrologically but we can talk about other Gilda ships! Tauruses are most compatible with other earth signs (Capricorn, Virgo, and Taurus) and water signs (Cancer, Scorpio, and Pisces) which makes her compatible with our other lovely Taurus, Anna! Gilanna shippers unite. But they’re best with Cancers and Scorpios, which means Gildon is is at highest compatibility.
Don
Birthdate: July 4th
Sign: Cancer
Element: Water
Overview: HEY YALL ITS TIME TO TALK ABOUT MY LEAST FAVORITE SIGNS: W A T E R. (I’m sorry my water friends, I’m sure you’re lovely, but as an air sign I am always extremely suspicious of water signs at first meeting because our compatibility is so low it might as well not exist) So the water signs are at the absolute highest emotional level. This can make them extraordinarily kind and nurturing, but it can also make them absolutely unreasonable and destructive. None is this more present than in Cancers, one of the most sensitive signs, but also one of the most empathetic. We can tell very clearly in Don that he wears his emotions on his sleeve—he’s unafraid to cry or show his anger, but he also takes very good care of his younger siblings and shows such an intense concern for them that it can become frightening.
He’s such a good boy 🥺
Compatibility and ships: okay so same drill, Cancers are generally compatible with other Water signs (Scorpio, Pisces, and Cancer) as well as Earth signs (Taurus, Capricorn, and Virgo) though their highest compatibility is with Tauruses and Capricorns. So again. GILDON AND RAYDON SHIPPERS R I S E.
God I’m so sorry if I cause a ship war. I rambled for too long and I’m very tired, so you only get these five characters for now. BUT! That’s why it’s a part 1. If you want more please feel free to harass me in my ask inbox about the characters you want me to overanalyze the signs of. Gemini out!
#the promised neverland#yakusoku no neverland#tpn#tpn analysis#rayemma#noremma#norray#I have no idea what to tag#should I be tagging ships???#I mean I guess??#violemma#gildon#raydon#i already forgot all the ships i mentioned#y’all I’m so tired help#literally once I learned the silliest idiot was a Taurus I started thinking about zodiacs again and went yknw what. im gnna do it#and then i wrote all this in one sitting and now my eyes feel like the sahara desert#i mean i barely slept last night either so that might have something to do with it#pls harass me for more character zodiac analyses u kno u want to 🥺#ok i. i might pass out at any second#mal rants#tpn manga spoilers
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